Guinevere's Unknown Freedom

Insufferable... Merlin was entirely correct. Sometimes Arthur really was a... well, Gwen was too furious at the moment to choose from among Merlin's numerous insults. She lay in bed fuming as she waited impatiently for Arthur to fall asleep, an event which would no doubt be heralded by his obnoxious snore.

... and as far as being right where Arthur was concerned, she'd hit the nail on the head on that first night they'd ever shared the same sleeping quarters. He really did sound like a pig when he slept.

"Goodnight, Guinevere," he murmured pleasantly, oblivious to her anger as he flopped over onto his stomach with a loud grunt.

Typical. The man was definitely the most unobservant person she'd ever met in her life. Unless she spelled them out for him in no uncertain terms, he remained blissfully unaware of her feelings, especially the ones that caused her to lapse into silence.

"Goodnight, Arthur," she said through gritted teeth.

It had all started earlier that evening when they'd been entertaining Lord Lionel and his new bride over a lovely dinner. The hapless young woman had knocked over a goblet of wine, shrieking in horror as the deep red liquid had soaked into the snowy white tablecloth.

Shushing her apologies with a reassuring smile, Gwen had risen to her feet and reached for a cleaning cloth.

What had followed was something she'd never forget – a pair of scandalized gasps, followed by an awkward laugh that had sounded almost... embarrassed.

"Guinevere, what are you doing?" Arthur had hissed under his breath, closing a hand around her wrist and pushing it beneath the table. "Queens don't do that!"

And then he'd called for Merlin.

"I dismissed Merlin for the evening," she'd said shortly.

"You did what?"

"He was exhausted, Arthur. I thought it might be nice to let him make an early night of it for once."

"Exhausted? Lazy is more like it. Really, Guinevere, don't you think I should be consulted about these things?"

Neither of them had noticed when Lord Lionel and his wife had mumbled their excuses and slipped from the chamber, eager to avoid the brewing argument.

"Merlin is not lazy," she'd responded irritably, snatching her hand away to scrub at the offending mess. "You work him much too hard, Arthur. He needed a break."

"Merlin!" Arthur had bellowed loudly enough to wake the entire castle. "Put that down, Guinevere. You'll ruin your dress."

"Arthur! I don't mind cleaning it up, really. What's the point in disturbing someone else at this hour?"

"You're a queen now. It just isn't proper for you to work like a servant."

Gwen had scowled at him, scrubbing even more furiously at the stained tablecloth. "So I mustn't lift a finger to do anything useful, yet I can't make any decisions concerning our staff without your consent, Tell me, Arthur, what exactly do you expect a queen to do?"

"I..." and then she'd felt a pang of sympathy for him as he'd floundered, remembering that he'd never had the opportunity to grow up around any examples of queenly behavior.

But her momentary compassion had faded when Merlin stumbled into the chamber, yawning hugely as he'd rubbed at a pillow crease on his cheek.

"Go back to bed, Merlin," she'd said gently, at the same time Arthur had demanded, "Take care of this mess."

"Arthur..." she'd protested as Merlin had started to clear the table. "This really isn't necessary."

"He doesn't mind, do you, Merlin?"

The servant had shot them both a sleepy smile. "Of course not."

And with that, Gwen had thrown up her hands in frustration and left the chamber.

She'd expected the argument to continue when Arthur had come upstairs a little while later; instead, he'd launched into a lengthy and altogether useless account of that day's training session. He'd prattled on and on about some new combat maneuver Gwaine had introduced, completely oblivious to the way she'd stormed around the chamber as they'd readied themselves for bed.

Gwen was brought back to the present by a telltale snuffle, followed by a loud snore. Her lips curved into a humorless smile. Oblivious? Well, perhaps for once, that would work in her favor.

She slipped out of bed, exchanging her nightdress for a simple gown and dark velvet cloak. Cautiously, she let herself out of the chamber and crept along the deserted corridors, emerging with a sigh of relief into the dimly lit tunnel that led beyond the city walls.

Arthur would be horrified to know she was out by herself at such a late hour, but it wasn't the first time she'd done it, and she was quite certain that it wouldn't be the last. Dangerous or not, sometimes she just needed a little room to breathe.

The forest just ahead was illuminated by the light of a full moon, soft and ethereal as it beckoned her forward with promises of solitude, comfort, and peace. Gwen sought it eagerly, disappearing into the trees with a sigh of relief.

She didn't go far... only a few dozen paces were necessary to reach the fallen log where she'd made a seat for herself many times in the past, inhaling the sweet fragrances of night blossoms and fresh green foliage as she sought to put an end to her troubled thoughts.

Something was different tonight, however. It took her a minute or to figure out what it was, and then it came to her... the soft tinkling of water just a few feet away.

Curious, she pushed aside a heavy growth of ferns, gasping in surprise as her eyes fell upon the tiny spring that lay shimmering in the moonlight. Sinking to her knees, she trailed her fingers across the glassy surface, enjoying the water's coolness as her mind returned to the source of her distress.

It wasn't that she was unhappy... she really did love Arthur, and her two short months of being queen had been pleasant for the most part. But every once in a while, she couldn't help feeling stifled by her new position and all the expectation that came along with it. Sometimes she wondered if Arthur had been aware of how much she'd be obligated to prove in order to be considered worthy of her new position.

Had he thought about the impossible standards by which she'd find herself judged? Probably not – the best thing about Arthur was that he seldom cared what the rest of the world thought about him marrying a servant. And yet the worst thing was that he didn't realize that his lack of concern didn't stop the world from forming its own opinions.

Expectation... sometimes it bothered Gwen to realize that she'd spent most of her life conforming to what the Pendragons required of her at any given time. She'd been a maidservant... not just any maidservant either, but one who was meticulously trained to respond to Morgana's every whim. Following that, she'd been tutored in the most effective ways to care for the ailing King Uther, a man she'd secretly despised, because again, that was the duty which had been laid out for her.

Strangely enough, being queen was the most difficult position of all. Perhaps it was the fact that Arthur and his family had spent so many years grooming her to serve... how could she be expected to dismiss a lifetime of habit simply because she put on a fancy dress and sat beside the king?

Why was it so difficult for him to understand that part of her would always be a servant?

... because he's had his destiny laid out before him since birth, she realized. He's never had to adjust to any role other than the one he's been preparing for since he drew his first breath.

She held up her hand, watching the crystal droplets fall like rain from her fingertips. No, it wasn't that she was unhappy with her choices, but whenever a new challenge presented itself, another instance of feeling that she didn't quite "fit", she couldn't help but wonder what sort of life she might have had if her fate hadn't been determined by her relationship with the Pendragons.

Caught up in that thought, she absently raised her fingers to her lips, sucking away the remaining moisture. The thick bed of ferns beneath her seemed softer, more inviting, and suddenly, it was impossible to resist the temptation to stretch out on her back and close her eyes... only for a minute...

"I must leave Camelot immediately."

She stared up into the boy's dark eyes, so soft and full of hope, and wondered how he could manage to feel anything other than anger or crushing disappointment after the way the king had treated him.

"I'm sorry, Lancelot," she said gently, feeling another stab of resentment for the unfeeling tyrant who'd failed to give such a remarkable person the appreciation he deserved. Even after being humiliated and thrown in the dungeons, he'd ridden out against that terrible creature, risking his life to achieve that which Arthur and all the Knights of Camelot had failed to do.

Lancelot had saved all their lives, and what did he receive in return? Nothing but scorn. It made her positively ill.

"Come with me."

"What?" she stared up at him in shock, certain she'd misunderstood.

He shifted on the balls of his feet, biting his lip as he avoided her eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady... I know it's terribly presumptuous to even suggest such a thing, but..."

"We've only known each other for a few days," she said helplessly.

"I know. I just... there's something about you..."

She knew exactly what he was talking about. It didn't matter that each of them hadn't even known the other even existed only a week before. From the moment they'd met, there'd been something between them... a powerful attraction that was equal parts frightening and intriguing. How could she discover what it meant if she allowed him to leave, knowing very well she might never see him again?

"Can you... do you think you could give me a few hours to consider your offer? I... I would need to speak with my father if I decide to accept. And I'd have to gather my things, of course."

Lancelot broke into a relieved smile. "Of course. I will wait for you just beyond the city gates."

She showed him to the door, but as she started to turn away, he reached out and caught her arm. Suppressing a shiver at the unexpected contact, she turned back to find his dark eyes smoldering with some strong emotion she couldn't identify. Suddenly breathless, she waited for him to speak.

"Gwen, I just wanted you to know... if you're not comfortable, or if you change your mind, I'll understand. And I... I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. If you'd prefer me go forth alone, believe me when I say I'll find a way to return to you someday."

Then he leaned down and placed the softest of kisses upon her lips, and she surrendered with a sigh to the only thing that felt right in a world that had always been filled with indecision.

Her choice was clear.

What need was there to wait, when the future was standing right in front of her, enveloping her body in an embrace that spoke to her of safety, comfort, devotion... love?

Informing her father wasn't easy – although he'd always credited Gwen with common sense and wisdom that went far beyond her years, it was obvious that he was terrified to let her go. It was only after numerous reassurances and promises to write every week that he reluctantly conceded, sending her off with a fierce hug and an unnecessary reminder that she was welcome to return at any time if her plans didn't work out as well as she hoped.

Morgana's hopelessly romantic nature couldn't help responding to the idea of running away with a sinfully handsome man, of course, but it was obvious she was distraught at the idea of losing her faithful maidservant... more than that, one of her most cherished friends.

The others offered their own objections... Merlin and Gaius both insisted her home was in Camelot, not adrift in the world where they could no longer see her every day. But in the end, Gwen silenced them all, and by sunset, she passed beyond the city gates to find Lancelot waiting faithfully for her arrival.

From that point on, there was no room for hesitation. They traveled together beyond the hills, through forests and mountains, becoming lovers one blissful night beneath a shimmering blanket of stars. Having little resources to speak of, they picked up whatever work they could find along their journey, and in time, the money they earned, combined with her meager savings, was enough to purchase a tiny cottage with a small patch of surprisingly fertile land.

Soon thereafter, Lancelot begged for her hand in marriage. Gwen gazed at him tenderly as he knelt at her feet, sun burnished and more than a little dirty from his tireless efforts in the field, and her choice was clear... a decision that had in truth been made since the day she'd packed her few possessions and placed her future at his feet.

But as happy as they were together throughout the next few years, it eventually became obvious that there was something missing. Neither of them acknowledged it aloud, but they both grew to recognize it in one another. Gwen saw it in the way Lancelot's eyes occasionally lingered on the scabbard hanging by the door, the blade inside blunted and dull from lack of use. He noticed it whenever she retrieved the box of letters from beneath their bed, every last one of them worn and creased after being read dozens of times.

And so when the message arrived at their doorstep, an urgent plea for assistance in Camelot's most desperate hour, there was no need for further discussion. They simply packed their bags, then set their feet on the path that would carry them home.

Gwen gradually came back to consciousness, disoriented by the heavy silence all around her. Where was Arthur? She couldn't recall the last time she'd fallen asleep without the strangely comforting rumble of his snore in her ears.

She sat up, blinking several times as she remembered where she was and how she'd come to be there. It had been an unpleasant evening, made significantly worse by the fact that it had triggered all the frustrations she'd been keeping to herself over the past couple of months. It wasn't like her to be so resentful, however, and now that her anger had faded, she felt deeply guilty for the unpleasant thoughts she'd directed at her husband. Whatever flaws Arthur might have, he never had anything less than the best of intentions where she was concerned.

Thankfully, she was able to slip back into the palace undetected, relieved to discover that he was still sound asleep, oblivious to her nighttime wanderings.

With a relieved smile, she changed into her nightdress and slipped into bed beside him, laying her head on his bare shoulder. No, life certainly wasn't perfect... there were quite a few adjustments that needed to be made before she'd be comfortable in her new role as queen.

But as far as what could've been if she'd chosen another path, Gwen knew with absolute certainty that she'd have never been able to abandon this beloved city. And despite his shortcomings, Arthur had given her the greatest gift of all when he'd made her his queen. She now had the power to be directly involved in the safety and protection of Camelot, the only place on earth where she truly belonged.

In exchange for that, she supposed she could abstain from cleaning up a few messes here and there.