"You're asking me to let Arthur stay here?" Gwen sputtered as she stared at Merlin in shock.
He sat at the kitchen table, munching enthusiastically on the soft bread and hard cheese she'd served him a few minutes before.
"Yes," he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Just for a few days. It's no big deal. He won't be any trouble, I promise."
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "He'll be plenty of trouble and you know it. But what I don't understand is... why? What reason could he possibly have for wanting to impersonate a commoner? Something about proving his worth, you said? But how...?"
"He believes the other knights give him special treatment because of who he is."
"Well, he's right," she said with a tiny smirk.
"I know that, Gwen," Merlin agreed, trying without any success to hide a grin. "You know that. Everybody knows that. The problem is that he's realized it now as well, and it's been a bit of a blow to his pride. But if he competes in the tournament while disguised as a commoner and he wins..."
"Then his arrogance will be justified," she finished for him with a shake of her head. "Merlin, this is ridiculous."
"Yes, it is," he said, giving her a mischievous smile. "So... will you do it?"
Of all the arrogant, pigheaded... Gwen fumed silently to herself later that night, as she struggled in vain to find a comfortable position on the lumpy sacks she'd been forced to use as a bed. Does he think of no one but himself?
It had started from the moment Arthur had walked in her door. He'd greeted her politely, but when she'd walked away to prepare some food, she'd glanced back over her shoulder to find him looking around her home with open distaste. Even worse had been when she'd heard him comment under his breath to Merlin that he couldn't possibly be expected to stay there.
Doesn't he realize that I can hear him? she'd wondered with a great deal of resentment.
Throughout the evening, it had been one thing after another. She hadn't minded cooking him supper, but it might have been nice to hear something a little more courteous than a mindless grunt when she'd set the plate in front of him. He could have at least picked up the pitcher and filled his own cup, rather than giving her an expectant look whenever it had run empty.
All of that was nothing, however, compared with their sleeping arrangements.
"Is this my bed?" he'd asked nonchalantly.
No, she corrected herself with a scowl of irritation. He didn't ask. If he'd asked, he would've waited for a response before taking over her bed like he owned it. How could a man with such a good heart be so oblivious to the feelings of others?
That was what baffled Gwen. Ever since the day she'd decided to try and see him in a better light, there'd been ample proof of his kindness, his honor, his willingness to put his own needs aside for the sake of his people.
He'd faced the Questing Beast without a trace of fear, nearly losing his life in his attempt to protect the kingdom. Since then, accompanied by his knights, he'd ventured out on many occasions to put down minor skirmishes or to intervene on behalf of even the poorest villagers who needed help.
From afar, Arthur was the perfect picture of a noble hero – unselfish, loyal, and honorable. He inspired a great deal of hope in Gwen as she dreamed of the day he'd come into power... a king worthy of the title, who'd transform Camelot into a kingdom where even the most humble citizen would never have to be afraid of the threat of tyranny or injustice.
Up close? All she wanted to do was smack him.
The following day did nothing to help Gwen's increasingly conflicted feelings. She'd been deeply offended at breakfast when he'd stared down at his bowl of porridge like it was something repulsive.
"Where's the rest?" he'd said in a tone that was almost demanding. "The meat and the cheese?"
He's your guest, she'd had to remind herself as she'd glared at him in stony silence from across the table. It would be rude to call him out on his behavior. Remember your manners, Gwen.
And yet just a few hours later, she'd found herself cheering enthusiastically for him from the sidelines, her heart surging with excitement as she'd watched him ride forth in heavy armor to face his opponents in the jousting tournament.
This was the Arthur who inspired all Gwen's hopes and expectations... not the spoiled houseguest who expected to be waited on hand and foot. Here was a man who didn't hesitate in the face of danger, charging forward fiercely and without hesitation to meet any opponent who might stand in his way.
Why does he feel such a need to prove himself? she'd wondered then. Look at him... none can hope to compete against his skill. Surely he must realize how good he is. Why is this so important to him?
Unable to resist the temptation, she asked the question rather bluntly later that evening.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I fear that people respect me just because of my title," he said, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.
"I don't believe that's true of everyone," Gwen said automatically, then wondered to herself if she really meant the words or if she'd said them merely because they were expected of her. It was a little troubling to realize that she couldn't be sure either way.
"Would you tell me if it were?" Arthur asked her skeptically, as if he could sense the direction of her thoughts.
"No."
"When I'm competing as William, my title doesn't matter," he told her in a quiet, sincere voice. "Nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament... if I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it and not because I am Prince Arthur."
Suddenly, she felt a great deal of sympathy for him. Did being born to privilege make him different than anyone else? Didn't every person long to be valued for who they really were inside? It had to be difficult never knowing where you stood with others... to realize they were obligated to treat you a certain way no matter what you said or did.
Arthur really does mean well, she thought herself with a sudden wave of compassion. Maybe I've been a little too critical of...
"I think I'll take a bath," he announced.
"That might be difficult seeing as I don't have a bathtub," she said, trying not to think about the level of ignorance that would lead him to believe that an average citizen of Camelot could afford one.
He's never lived in a place where bathtubs weren't readily available, she reminded herself. Don't judge him too harshly.
"Really?" he said, giving her a baffled look.
He could at least be courteous enough to hide his surprise, she thought in irritation. And then she caught herself, but before she could replace the thought with something a little more generous, he proceeded to make the situation even worse.
"Perhaps you could prepare me a bowl of hot water," he suggested carelessly. "I take it you have a bowl?"
"I think I can manage a bowl," she said, hearing the anger in her voice and no longer caring if he did as well. "Just walk all the way down to the well and fetch some water then, shall I?"
Special treatment indeed! Gwen fumed to herself throughout another sleepless night and well into the next day. He wanted to be treated like an ordinary person when he had something to gain from it, but not when it involved being considerate of anyone else!
If she truly believed him to be the type of man who cared nothing for others, she wouldn't be bothered by his selfishness. After all, it had never really affected her in the past... not until she'd begun to look closer and had recognized the goodness that lay beneath his pompous behavior.
He's better than this, she realized in a flash of clarity. That was why it upset her so much. This wasn't really him, only what he'd been taught throughout his life. And who was there to question his behavior when he was wrong?
Gwen found herself inadvertently thrust into that very position just a few hours later.
She'd never intended for Arthur to know about her miserable sleeping arrangements... he'd come in quite unexpectedly to find the curtain to the pantry drawn back. No, she hadn't intended to point out that it was his thoughtlessness that had robbed her of her own bed either.
The words that came out of her mouth shocked her even as she spoke them, but she just couldn't stop herself as all of her frustrations came pouring out. She was appalled as she listened to herself scold him for being rude, arrogant, and childish, then cringed inwardly as she went on to chastise him quite bluntly for his poor manners.
Arthur just listened quietly. He didn't flinch at the harsh criticisms, nor did he raise so much as an eyebrow to stop her. He just listened, which left her a little stunned as she brought her emotions under control and hastily added a respectful "my lord" to the end of her rant.
"Is there anything else you'd like to add?" he asked when she'd finished.
No, I think that's it."
Gwen, you're standing here insulting the Crown Prince of Camelot, she told herself, though the reminder came too late to make a difference. She suddenly felt uneasy as she imagined what King Uther's reaction would be if he'd heard the way a servant had just dared to speak to his son.
Arthur's not his father, she reminded herself, even as she realized it was a reassurance she didn't really need anymore. You have nothing to fear from him.
"You're right," Arthur said, his voice soft and sincere "You've invited me into your home and I have behaved appallingly."
Any further annoyance she might have felt faded away at his words, then disappeared entirely at his promise to cook her supper that night to make up for his behavior. It was difficult to remain angry with a man who took criticism so well, not to mention one who showed so much eagerness to make amends for his mistakes.
He really is endearing in his own clumsy way, she thought to herself with a smile as she wandered aimlessly through the streets of Camelot just a few minutes later. Imagine... Arthur Pendragon cooking supper for simple little Gwen. No one would believe it if she told them.
This suspicion was confirmed as she ran into Merlin, who looked at her as if she'd just sprouted horns when she said the words aloud. He rushed off in the direction of her house and she grinned inwardly, imagining the two men fumbling with the raw chicken and uncooked vegetables she'd left out for that evening's supper.
I'm sure it'll be burnt to a crisp, but I'll happily eat it anyway, she thought to herself in fond amusement. Arthur deserved a little credit for trying so hard.
To her surprise, however, there was no acrid smell of charred meat in the air when she arrived home an hour later. The mouthwatering aroma of perfectly roasted chicken filled the room instead as Arthur presented her with a beautiful supper, even going so far as to pull out her chair for her.
She began to forget why she'd ever been annoyed with him in the first place as they laughed and joked over the delicious food. Merlin must have helped him quite a lot, she thought to herself as she smiled at him from across the table. Well, I'll never let on that I know.
Feeling completely at ease in his presence for the first time, Gwen found herself enjoying the pleasantness of his smile and the warmth in his blue eyes... little things she'd never quite picked up on before.
He really is quite handsome when he makes an effort to put his arrogance aside, she thought with a smile as he insisted on clearing their dishes himself. I can't believe I've been around him for so many years and never noticed how...
But just then, she noticed something else. She frowned in confusion, then felt a rush of disappointment as she stared at the royal seal that was stamped on the bottom of the plates
He didn't cook me supper at all, she fumed to herself as she called him out on his dishonesty. No, he just sent a servant off to fetch it from the palace kitchens like usual. Only this is worse, because he lied to me. I can't believe I actually started to think...
"We had a nice meal together. What does it matter where it came from?"
"Because I thought you'd shown some humility!" she responded, not understanding why she felt like weeping at that moment. "I thought you'd done something kind for me even though I'm just a servant! A good king should respect his people, no matter who they are!"
She was about to walk away, resigned to the belief that he would never get it, when he caught her arm in a grasp that was surprisingly gentle. Reluctantly, she turned back to face him.
"I know I have much to learn," he said quietly. "I'm terrible at some things... cooking being one of them. But also knowing what to say to someone I care about."
The words hung in the air between them as she stared up at him in disbelief.
Someone I care about...
Arthur has feelings for me, she suddenly realized with a great deal of surprise. I think I might care about him, too. It's not just about the kind of king I hope he'll be or how I'd like him to treat other people. I don't know what it is, but I feel something for him.
With that in mind, it seemed strange that for the first time in months, she found herself thinking of Lancelot as she drifted off to sleep that night.