TITLE: The Longest Day
Author: Shabbytiger
Show: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur and Gwen
Genre: Romance
Warnings: MA for adult content later...plus set after episode 3 x 10.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine, just borrowed for naughty purposes :P
Multi Chapter and Complete.
/
The banquet was a feast of food, noise and colour. Arthur hated every minute ticking slowly by, as he sat next to his father, whose mead intake was bordering on lethal. Morgana was quiet, but behaving oddly, glancing at him strangely and demanding dance after dance though she usually refrained from them. The effort to smile and dance weighed heavier than the golden band that seemed to squeeze his head like a vice. It all just washed over him, and he was disconnected like he never had been before. Exchanging banter with the Knights was a chore, the food was tasteless, and Gwen was a spirit on the edge of his vision all evening, each glimpse of her hair, or skirts, or smile only serving to make him wish the night over so he could return to his chamber and deal with the growing ache she inspired. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, feeling adrift. Gwen refused to meet his eyes tonight, and he found that bothered him. A lot. Trying to catch her eye was akin to catching snowflakes in a net. Impossible.
" Drink up Arthur." Uther slapped him on the back, causing him to choke on the mead he was sipping. Uther was a loud drunk. " Why so sombre boy? This is a celebration! We're celebrating...uh.." A glazed look and Uther grinned, laughing wildly. " Life! That's it. We're celebrating life boy." Arthur forced a smile, raising his glass at his father, cringing inside. Life? Lord, was his father blind? Every day bought fresh reports from the outlying lands that Cenred and his rogue army were growing bolder. And more violent. A cold thought then, as he pictured Merlin's village, under attack once more. Worse, that Merlin would be recognised, since the adventure to save Elyan. The idea that another person that he cared about may still be threatened was yet one more unravelling thread he could no longer manage. He ran a weary hand over his face, wishing Merlin back at Camelot. As infuriating as the idiot could be, he was a comfort too, with his cheek, and nuggets of wisdom that seemed too prescient for all his innocent what me bravado. Tired suddenly, he downed his drink, and turned to make his excuses to his father.
Gwen stood behind the table, her heart in her mouth as she strove to keep her expression neutral. All night she had hovered at the edges of the crowd, trying to hide. Watching Arthur from a distance. His melancholy was almost palpable however, and although having Uther so close made her stomach twist with fear, she simply couldn't leave without offering some support for the prince. As much as she missed Merlin, it had occurred to her that Arthur too may be feeling his loss. He turned so quickly, she had no time to school her features, and when his eyes widened, she knew that similar shock registered in her own. The moment was raw, a pulsing tangible slice of time that hit her hard. She had struggled to keep away, to avoid his eyes, and had watched him during training, witnessing his temporary loss of control. All the concern she had felt flooded her now, and the urge to touch him, burnt her skin. She stepped backwards quickly, conscious of Uther, of Morgana, whose backs were to her, but whom could turn any second and witness the emotion she knew was writ large in her face. Stupid, she thought, spinning away to melt back into the crowd. She was so stupid, to risk an encounter so soon after...her thoughts failed her, as the memory of her arrest swamped her. It still kept her awake at nights, along with other things.
As she threaded her way through the crowd, hoping that her presence would not be missed, a hand caught her arm in a firm grip, and a voice, low and smooth scorched her ear.
" Outside. Now." The tone was authoritative, but she heard the plea too, and it turned her to liquid. Keeping her head forward, nervous of discovery, she slipped her hand to that on her arm, and squeezed lightly. Her throat was too full for words to make it to the surface. His touch was lightning to her skin, and she only hoped that no one would notice her heightened colour as he released her arm and she wobbled a little, trying to focus on finding her way out. In her new gown, the rose bodice heaved and she felt as though her body were trying to escape it as she crossed the banquet hall. The skirts grazed her thighs as she hurried, and the truth of her reaction to Arthur was humbling as she throbbed deep inside for more than she should. Yet beneath her desire for his touch, was a tenderness, a need to sooth his anxiety, that she had seen so many times, laying just below his cool exterior these past few days. Gwen was used to hurt, used to disappointment in life, but bizarrely, as tough and capable as she considered Arthur to be, the need to take on his troubles was an ache in her chest that matched that between her thighs. A sharp powerful heat swept her, and as she nodded distractedly at the serving girls by the door, a decision somehow made itself. Arthur was hers, and she was his. Tonight she would express that mutual ownership, consequences be damned.
/
Arthur leant against a column in the corridor outside the banquet hall, grateful that his father had turned his attention to Morgana as he feigned off the evening, claiming an injury during training was giving him trouble. Lucky for Arthur that Uther would need attention for some hours, and that Morgana's keen eyes would be forced to watch on, and be the good girl he was coming to suspect she was anything but. That was a thorny topic that scattered his head, and he pushed it away as he waited for Gwen, hoping she would slip from the hall. The reality that she may ignore his request, especially since they had both acknowledged the ongoing danger such interludes posed, was a panicky jump in his chest, and he clenched and unclenched his fists as he waited. And waited. He was aware of every sound from the hall, every peal of laughter or raucous shout, and each time the doors opened, he glanced from his place behind the column, hope lifting his shoulders before dropping once more. The damn cloak he was forced to wear was dragging on his neck, and he tugged at it impatiently. She was not going to show. His heart was a stone in his chest, and frustration, physical and mental fired along his spine, his feet moving before he knew where he was going. Humiliation skimmed his cheeks, as he realised he had been lurking in the corridor like a love lorn puppy. Idiot. He stormed to his bedchamber, barking at the guards along the way to move, desperate to reach the sanctuary of his room to rid himself of the cloak and crown. The symbols of every reason he and Gwen could not be. He wanted to find her and yell at her, shake her, kiss her. Gods he wanted to crawl inside her and stay there, with a yearning so brutal it hurt.
Once in his room, he flung off the cloak, and the crown was discarded to the table, next to his breakfast dishes. On the tip of his tongue was a rebuke for Merlin, but he was not here, and Arthur had no idea which servant had been serving him today. Couldn't even tell the lazy so and so off to vent dome of his rage. The smell of cold wax filled the room, the faint aroma of his breakfast still lingering. It all simply added to the strange interminable day he felt he kept re-living. The notion of returning to the banquet was dismissed quickly, as he stalked about his room, tugging off his clothing, before landing on his bed with a thud and yanking his boots off before turning them into missiles that flew across the room. Groaning, he fell backwards, closing his eyes. He should never have ordered her to meet him. It had been a request, yet on reflection, his curt clipped words may have roused the independent flare he so admired in Gwen, and his stomach flipped, regret a roar in his blood. Desire to search her out floored him, but he stayed put, knowing that in his current mood, their meeting could end badly. He threw an arm across his eyes, and concentrated on levelling his heart beat. Tonight was only going to get longer he thought, and hoped exhaustion would force his mind to quit and give him some peace.