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.
/
She woke with a start, to find him awake, and tracing soft intricate patterns into her shoulder blades, lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was still dark, and he was still holding her. Snuggling closer, relishing the immense heat they created beneath the thrown she put her head near his and stared up at the dream catcher her brother had found at the forge. Mother had decorated the home with them, though she was careful to call them ornaments, and leave out certain elements in their making. The chimes drifted, casting shadows at the far wall, and she couldn't resist kissing him on the cheek, greedy to take all she could whilst this lasted. His fingers stroked her, and she was content for the first time she could recall in recent memory.
" What is that?" Arthur's voice was soft and low, and she was torn momentarily between lying, and revealing a truth he may reject her for. She was a product of her mothers people as much as her fathers she reasoned. She wouldn't hide it.
" It's a dream catcher." He raised an eyebrow, listening intently, but his fingers continued their designs on her back. She carried on. " The design inside the hoop is supposed to resemble a spiders web. It catches bad dreams, as they don't know the way through, and when the sun hist it, they melt away."
Her mothers were all gorgeous, made of willow and fashioned with bright dyed feathers and carved wooden beads that chimed delicately if the wind was high.
" And good dreams?" His voice raked her skin, and she shivered closer. " Good dreams always know the way through. They weave their way through the centre of the web, down the feathers to the sleeper below." She waited, unsure of his reaction. Though it was not sorcery, merely an old tradition her mothers people passed on, she could understand how he may be suspicious.
" Perhaps if I wish it hard enough then, all the issues separating us could be bad dreams, and disappear in the dawn." It was a whispered longing, and it stunned her, that he be so unlike his father. That he would bare his soul so easily. So trustingly. " This will be the good dream, and in the morning I'll get up, go to training, and you will meet me at lunch, and we will eat together and hold hands and the world won't rear up in anger because of it."
It broke her heart.
" I know you can't stay Arthur." It hurt to admit, but she couldn't see him battle with the fact. " I know you would if it were possible."
" Do you Gwen?" He twisted his neck to stare at her directly, and the intensity of his gaze made her quiet. " I need to know that you do. I need to know that you understand. I won't take another. I won't marry for Camelot, or my father. It's you or it's no one. And sometimes...I see you, and I wonder if you have any idea how much it takes from me to be so close each day yet not be able to do this," he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, " or this," he dropped a kiss on her lips. " You have no cause for doubt Gwen. I know my heart. It's here." He caught her hand and placed it to the beating pulse beneath his fur lined skin. The solid beat flared under her palm. She swallowed.
" It's yours."
Now she was crying, and climbing across him to hold him in the tightest embrace she could muster.
" Let's call it a trade," she whispered into his throat, and he relaxed, letting his hand brush over her hair. Leaning to his mouth she kissed him, all her love in her kiss as she wished this could last.
/
" If anything happens, I'll stand by you Gwen." He dropped a kiss to her hair, his words deep and her involuntary shiver caught by the tender arc of his arm.
" Let's not borrow trouble Arthur. Let's just...enjoy this." She knew she would worry, that the wait would become an exquisite torture, as a secret image of a child with Arthur's eyes would erode all common sense in the face of repercussions such a happening would bring to play. She would bury the dreaming part of her she hid so well, appreciate how much more than she hoped she had already received. Tenderness for the man beside her swelled within.
Later, as the dark gave way to pre-dawn, and the bed was a pit of heat and skin and her inner thighs still sticky, she moved. Unwilling, but conscious of her self now, Gwen rose from the bed, wrapping the white coverlet about her shoulder and leaving him encased in the quilted throw. He reached for her, and she smiled, wondering if she looked horrific, her hair wild and skin sleep soft.
" You look wonderful."
" I didn't-" she had not spoken, keeping the vain thoughts to herself, and confusion made her frown.
" Its written all over your face. Everything is if you look hard enough. Why aren't you still next to me?" Plaintive, his query tinged with desire as he stared through half mast eyes.
" I just need to take a moment." His eyes travelled the length of her, barely covered by the white fabric, and she felt her chest hollow. Nothing had changed between them, but everything had.
" Would you like a hot drink?" It was unspoken, but tacked on to her offer, the truth that he should be leaving soon. Every second ticking by simply added to the possibility of his absence being noted. The thought of his warmth missing from her bed was already painful, and briefly, Gwen felt cold, wondering if she would be able to deal with the aftermath of this night.
" I'll make it." Swinging his legs from the bed, she blushed, since he was still naked, and he grinned at her expression. Pulling his trousers from the floor he tugged them up, eyeing her boldly. Desire flared to life in her abdomen once more. Tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, she raised an eyebrow in his direction.
" Are you sure? Do you even know how to light the stove sire?" He caught her quickly, and she laughed softly, as his mouth found her neck, growling at her throat.
" A very talented young woman showed me how a while ago. She's the daughter of a blacksmith you know."
Contentment swept her along, and they were kissing again. It all felt right. No awkwardness, or fretting. No agonising over what they had done. Slipping from his grasp, she slid away, aware of his eyes watching her naked limbs as she found her wash pot and soap. Glancing back as she picked up a fresh wash cloth, she paused as his eyes darkened, lust still alive, undiminished.
Clearing his throat, he inclined his head, in that very Arthur way he had.
" I'll just uhm-" He turned, and headed to her kitchen area. She smiled as he walked away, the smooth skin of his back, the dimples just above his hips, all so familiar yet thrilling. Concentrating, she began to wash, the cold water no hardship as her skin burnt with the memory of his touch. The soap dried, making her feel taut but clean, and something popped below her ribs as she spied the blood on the wet frothy cloth. Breathing deep, she carefully cleaned herself, conscious of Arthur so close as she performed the intimate act.
She heard him moving about, finding another cup to place next to her abandoned attempt earlier, goodness, what felt like a lifetime ago now. Lost in thought, she placed the cloth with her washing, and started, when Arthur's hands curled about her waist, his chest at her back, a wall of heat and fine hair and him.
" Tea's on." He nibbled at her throat, and she leant back, the white cover hiding nothing as he bent above her, his eyes on her naked form. On the springy dark curls between her legs, newly scented with lilac. His hands slid across her back, her curved rump, his lips scorching a line of kisses along her neck and shoulder.
" I want to taste you." Gruff, raw, his words at her ear made her squirm with need as starlight streaked up her spine. As if his confession weren't enough, his hand slid beneath her bottom, finding her curls from behind and she pushed back, letting her head fall to the side as his mouth widened, and his tongue lapped her with broad flat strokes. Then the reality of his words made her pause, panic widening her eyes.
" Arthur no!" He simply smiled into her eyes as she twisted her head up to his, stealing any other words with his mouth. Heat licked her limbs, her legs wobbly at the image his shocking words produced vividly in her minds eye. His fair head at her juncture, his tongue, pink and wet, sneaking though her curls to the delicate skin of her...A hot flash burst through her stomach, her aching muscles contracting once again. He hummed at her skin, his hands making easy work of setting her on fire.
" Guinevere yes."