Author's Note: Does four days count as a quick update for 5,000+ words? I really wanted to get this out because I had ideas for chapter 6 before I finished thinking about chapter 5, and ideas for this chapter were already in my brain before chapter 4. And I'm thinking of a sequel? Gotta get to the end first.

Anywhooo…This chapter features a badass(?) Gwen. (or I hope you think she comes across as badass and not mary-sue considering she has 1500 years of life experience and what she's been through and this isn't Twilight or TVD and I'm going to stop before I add 1000 words on my hate for teen paranormal romance)

And finally, another character is introduced.

/end rambly note

Chapter 5: Compelling and Changes

When Arthur and Morgana presented Gwen to Uther for the first time, she stared up at the king with wide, frightened eyes. His presence demanded respect, and many cowered at the sight of him. Gwen's eyes flickered to the scar on his forehead, a permanent and defining feature.

"Rumor has it, it's from a dragon," the children of the lower town would say. The tale of Uther Pendragon's scare was a popular debate.

"Don't be stupid. A dragon claw could chop a head off," an older one would say. "It came from a griffin."

Gwen thought Uther might as well be a dragon. With his temper, it was surprising that he didn't breathe fire.

"What's this?" Uther stared down at her. She felt smaller than she was. Standing between Arthur and Morgana, she clutched their hands in fear. It did little to calm her, though. She could feel the siblings' nerves radiating on both sides of her.

"This is Gwen. Arthur found her on patrol and brought her to me," Morgana said ready to take on Uther.

Uther's eyes focused on Arthur. "You brought a child to give to Morgana?"

Arthur stiffened. "W-well when you say it like that—"

"A human, especially a child, is not a pet!" Uther's voice boomed.

"Of course not!" the siblings said in unison. "She's alone. I couldn't just leave her," Arthur said.

"So you brought her here?" Uther asked slowly.

"After he at my rabbit," Gwen spoke up. Her voice was small but it silenced Uther. It silenced the whole throne room. Gwen let go of their hands and stepped forward. "He was wounded and starving. He could've eaten me instead, my lord. But he didn't and he saved me. And my lord and lady have shown me nothing but kindness." She fidgeted under Uther's gaze as he remained silent. "And I will work my hardest to show my gratitude, that is, if his majesty allows me to stay."

The room remained silent as they waited for the king to speak. He studied Gwen a moment longer, and then snapped his gaze to his children. "You two can learn a thing or two from her."

Arthur and Morgana looked to each other then back to their father. "So…can I keep her?" Morgana asked hesitantly and cringed at her choice of words.

"She's your responsibility," Uther said sternly and dismissed them.

During a council meeting three weeks later, a tabby cat darted out of the servants' entrance and into the room. All heads turned toward the cat and then Gwen who came out running after it. She scooped up the feline and smiled nervously at her audience.

Uther cleared his throat and Arthur rose ready to defend Gwen even though he was confused as to why she was chasing the animal.

"What is the meaning of this?" the king asked harshly.

"Sir Purrs-a-Lot was running from his bath time," Gwen said meekly. One of the members repeated the name to himself and chuckled.

Uther eyed his son with a raised eyebrow. "You gave her a pet?"

Arthur didn't know about the cat, but now that he thought about it, Gwen and Morgana were being a little secretive lately. "No, I didn't." He looked down at Gwen and wished he hadn't when she looked back with big innocent eyes. "You can't…have…"

"I'll keep him out of trouble, I promise! It was just that he was so tired of being cooped up in my lady's chambers and…" Gwen rambled on about how Sir Purrs-a-Lot managed to slip away.

Geoffrey, one of Uther's most trusted advisors cleared his throat. "I don't see the trouble in letting the girl have a pet, sire."

Uther couldn't see a reason either, it was only a cat. "Don't let this happen again," he said to Gwen. His order sounded half-hearted, scolding her gently. He seemed to be growing fond of the tiny human.

Gwen bowed while still holding the cat, and then bounded out the room as quickly as she could without unsettling Sir Purrs-a-Lot. The whole council seemed to be uplifted by the interlude as the meeting went on in a livelier manner. Later, Arthur went to Morgana's chambers and asked, "Why didn't you tell me about the cat?" watching Gwen entertain the feline with an old pair of Morgana's shiny, dangling earrings.

"We were afraid you'd develop at taste for household pets," Morgana joked.

Sir Purrs-a-Lot became a well love pet in the castle. He'd relax on the high shelves of the library, occasionally giving Geoffrey a fright, and the old librarian would laugh afterwards. If he was in the same room with Uther, the king would pet it voluntarily and affectionately. And the cat would keep Arthur company when he was bored to death reading documents in his chambers.

Arthur threw down the parchment and flopped back in his chair. He lolled his head to the side to see Sir Purrs-a-Lot curled in the cushioned basket next to his desk. The cat looked up at him with bored, slit eyes and yawned. "You and me both," Arthur said.

Just then, Gwen entered. In the five years she's been living in the castle, Arthur's learned that no matter how she changed, the look she had on her face whenever she (rarely) asked for something stayed the same. She was no longer a child; the baby fat was gone from her cheeks , and she was looking more like a young woman every day, but when she smiled nervously with those sweet innocent eyes, whatever she was about to say, Arthur was going to say yes.

"So, I found a dog…"

The Roaring Twenties is what they called it. Art, jazz, and high spirits all around. Arthur and Leon walked down the sidewalk, on their way home from the Authority after a late meeting. The night was buzzing with energy; music and joyous (and drunken) laughter could be heard from the buildings they passed. A pair of giggling flappers passed them, blushing when they were caught looking.

Leon looked back and one of the girls was still staring him. She winked. "You know, these new fashions for woman nowadays aren't so bad. I don't see what the fuss is about."

"Could you imagine girls with those hairstyles back in our day? It's probably because we've been around for so long that change isn't that shocking," Arthur said.

Tipping their hats to each other in goodbye, they went their separate ways. Arthur entered the townhouse, and called out to Gwen when he didn't see her but sensed her. "Sorry I'm late, love. The meeting…"

He lost his train of thought when Gwen stepped out. Woman's clothing had become lighter, and more revealing in the last twenty years. He loved seeing Gwen swish around in beaded dresses and her shoulders bare, enjoying the unrestricting clothing. If she's happy, he's happy. There was nothing scandalous about happy women.

But his eyes were locked on her hair. When she let down her hair at night, it fell down her back in dark chocolate ringlets. Now, her hair was short and sculpted in finger waves, curls strategically placed and framing her face

"Do you like it?" Gwen said, hesitant. She held her arms stiffly at her sides, her hands curled into fist waiting for his answer.

"It's…" Arthur stared. "…different."

Her fist unclenched and she flattened her palms against the sides of her thighs. The beads of her dress swayed, clinking against each other for a second. "You don't like it."

"No!" he said quickly and rushed to her, placing his arms on his upper arms and held her at arm's length. "It's different, it's lovely."

"'Lovely.' You hate it," she frowned.

With her hair cropped short, and the curls styled against her face, her cheekbones were highlighted and the angles of her heart-shaped face were more prominent.

"You're beautiful," he said. "Always."

The morning after, Arthur felt Gwen stir next to him and sit up. He groaned, digging his head deeper into the pillow. He cracked an eye open and saw the blurry silhouette of Gwen stretching. He rolled on his back opening his other eye and watched her. She stretched her arms over her head, yawning. The sheet pooled at her waist and her bob was tussled. Without her long hair, he had an excellent view, and new appreciation for her back. He brought up his hand and stroked her from the nape of her neck, down her spine, caressing the silky skin. She arched when he reached the ticklish spot of her lower back. She gave him a playful smile over her shoulder.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, and pulled her back to him. He kissed along her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. He liked not having to constantly push her hair out the way. He nipped at her skin. Yes, he definitely liked the change.

"Trickler," Gwen said in distain. "Is a low-life drug dealer who was turned in the 80s. He'll compel someone into buying his drugs, get them high out of their mind, and drain them or turn them. And that's not all he does. Morgana adopted him into our group."

If it wasn't the "We have a situation" that worried Arthur, it was the tone of Gwaine's voice. When he described what happened and learned the name Trickler from one of the patrons who overheard his name being said, he had to ask Gwen. The hate he heard in her voice, what Trickler was preaching in Gwaine's bar…Trouble was on its way.

Gwen continued. "He's not the preaching type, though…"

"Ruling over humans and being led by Morgana…" Arthur rubbed his jaw. "Has Morgana ever said anything about wanting vampires to over? Do you think she sent him to send a message?"

"No, never," Gwen said. She dropped her head in her hands. "Oh, God. What if leaving has sent her over the edge."

"They're bringing him back to HQ. I'm going to go and see what he has to say," Arthur said.

"I'll come with you." Arthur tried to argue but she stopped him. "If he refuses, I can make him talk," she said unyielding.

Merlin insisted on going too. They apologized to Hunith who understood. She packed them the remaining cookies and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. Before Arthur went out to the car, Hunith pulled him to the side.

"Take care of her, Arthur," she said.

He patted the hand she had on his arm. "I will."

The underground of the Authority wasn't just the super-secret council room, many other super-secret rooms, one being an interrogation room. When they came to it, Leon was guarding the door.

"He's not talking," Leon said and opened the door.

Trickler sat at the metal table, his hands cuffed to it. He sneered at the site of Arthur sitting down in the opposite seat.

"So, Trickler, I hear that you're friends with Morgana," Arthur said.

Trickler sucked his teeth and blew Arthur a kiss. "I know your sister."

Arthur clenched his jaw. "And what's this about vampires ruling over humans?"

Trickler leaned back, quiet.

Arthur leaned back too, and folded his arms over his chest. "Fine. Maybe you'll talk to an old friend of yours." The door opened and Gwen came in. Trickler's eyes bulged out of his head and he tried to scurry out of the chair, pulling his wrist against the cuffs trying to escape. Arthur wasn't expecting that reaction.

"What is she doing here?!" Trickler screeched.

Interesting, Arthur thought. Morgana never said anything to her lackeys about Gwen leaving? Arthur stood. "I'll give you some time alone."

Unlike police interrogation rooms, this one didn't have a two-way mirror. Instead, there were hidden cameras and thermal sensors that sent a live feed to the room next door. There, the interrogation can be observed with no worries that if a vampire manages to break free, there's no window to escape through.

Leon, Elyan, Percival, Gwaine, Lance, and Merlin were watching the feed when Arthur entered.

"They told me vampires can compel other vampires," Merlin said, eyes transfixed on the screen. They were all glued to it.

"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "It depends on the skill of the vampire doing the compelling and the age and experience of the vampire being compelled." A lot of vampires now, especially baby vamps who were abandoned, don't learn the proper art of compelling and how to hone their skills. It makes them extremely susceptible to it. But none of that seemed to matter to Gwen. Morgana would swear that Gwen could compel before she was turned. Just a bat of her eyelashes and a simple please would do. And when she was a child, she had the court wrapped around her finger.

"Have you ever tried just saying 'please'?" she once asked while still human, a teenager. "How do you ask those pretty little blood servants that you want to suck their blood? Or do they just throw themselves at you?" She made a grand gesture of flinging oneself and plopped into the chair.

He stared at her.

"No, really," she continued. "How do you ask them?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "I just say I want them." She frowned at him. "What? You want me to say 'May I please drink from you or something like that?'"

She shrugged. "It's a start."

He grandly bent down on one knee and held her hand. "Guinevere, may I please drink from you?" He gave her his cheesiest smile.

She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms. "Maybe when I'm older."

The feed was silent as Gwen and Trickler just stared at each other.

"Trickler's not some untrained vamp. Do you think she can do it?" Leon asked. Some were harder to persuade than others, and Trickler sounded like quite the manipulator.

Arthur stared unblinking at the screen. "I know she can."

The American south was too hot for Arthur's liking. He stared at Gwen sitting next to him in the carriage, withdrawn and starring out the window. He had received a message from the President of the Authority of the United States stating that a vampire slave owner absolutely refused to release his slaves even though it's against the law for vampires to own slaves. Because the Authority of the UK was the founding government for vampire-kind, in complicated and extreme situations they're brought in to make things right. Uther sent Arthur and Gwen to deal with it, acknowledging Gwen's skill in compelling.

They stopped in front of a large plantation house, and Gwen lowered the veil attached to her hat. Arthur helped her out of the carriage, taking her gloved hand in his. She covered up as much as possible to avoid stares. He wanted to apologize to her.

"It's alright, my love," she said, gently rubbing a satin covered thumb on the back of his bare hand, feeling his stress.

Their escort was the vampire governor of Georgia. He hopped off the front of the carriage and led them to the porch steps. A portly middle aged vampire stepped out. His black hair slicked back with a shock white strip and handlebar mustache gave him a sinister look.

"Mr. Smith," the governor greeted.

Mr. Smith snickered. "Whatever you gon' say, I ain't doin' it." He rubbed his fat, sweaty neck with a handkerchief. "But if we gon' talk, let's do it outta this heat." He snickered again and invited them in.

"I'll stay out here," Gwen said not lifting her veil. Arthur gave her a final look before going in.

Mr. Smith barked at the servant to fetch some tea. He wiggled in the chair to get comfortable. "Now see here. This is my land, n' I own these slaves fair n' square."

"It's against the law, Mr.—"

Mr. Smith interrupted the governor by slamming his fist on the table. The maid waited for him to settle back before she put the tray of iced tea down. "They're mine. I can work 'em and feed on 'em as much as I like."

"It's against vampire law to own slaves," Arthur stated. He was doing his best not to lose the little patience he had.

Mr. Smith put on his worst British accent. "What are you going to do, report me to the Queen?" He switched back to his southern drawl. "This is America, n' she says I can own slaves!"

Arthur stood. "And I am Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, Vampire King of the United Kingdom. And I say you free them."

Mr. Smith cowered. Even he knew of the main Authority's power. No one had told him they were coming. More sweat poured from his forehead and stubbornly fought back. "No."

Just then Arthur felt Gwen calling him. He left without a word. Nervous, Mr. Smith followed him, a bloated sweaty mess. The governor trailed behind them. Arthur followed the call to the back of the house. Gwen was kneeling in front of a child; her hat and gloves removed to reveal her skin tone. The child and those around them marveled at the woman who looked liked them, but dressed so richly.

"What the devil!" Mr. Smith shouted and was about to stomp over to them, but Arthur stopped him, holding him back with a vice-like grip.

The child Gwen was kneeling in front of was a little boy. He had a fresh gash across his cheek that would fester soon if not treated properly. Gwen extracted her fangs and bit her thumb. The workers around them backed away but didn't run. The child didn't move, not a tremble, but stood with wide-eyed anticipation. Gwen held his hand with her left and brought her bleeding thumb to his cheek. She ran it over the wound and it closed. Then she took out a handkerchief and wiped away the remaining blood from the boy's cheek and from her now healed thumb. "All better," she said softly running her thumb back over the smoothed skin. The boy's and flew to his cheek and he rubbed it. He turned to look at a woman behind him. She came up and hugged him. "Thank you," she said to Gwen and they backed away when Mr. Smith broke from Arthur's hold, or Arthur let him go.

"And who do you think you are? Some painted up—"

"She's my wife, Smith," Arthur said, his voice cutting through Mr. Smith.

Smith sputtered. "Wife. You married a ni—"

"Mr. Smith," Gwen said with authority, demanding his attention.

Mr. Smith whipped his head back around to Gwen and froze. She stared at him, her eyes cold and unblinking. Every bit of him told him to flee, but he couldn't.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Gwen said.

"What—?"

"Where should I begin?" she pondered out loud.

"You can begin by gettin' off my prop—"

Gwen sauntered up to him. "Do you believe you are better than humans, Mr. Smith?"

Mr. Smith took a step back, upset with her close proximity, but he couldn't look away. "'Course I do!"

Venom laced Gwen's voice. "Slavery is one of the vilest human crimes, Mr. Smith. We do not encourage human mistakes."

"No…?" Mr. Smith asked, tilting his head to the side like a fat bird.

Gwen tilted her head, too, mocking him. "And we do not mimic human mistakes."

"No?" he asked again, blinking.

She lifted her head back up. "No. We do not enslave humans."

"…"

"You're going to free all of them, the field workers and household staff."

The last ounce of fight in Mr. Smith came out in a tiny "…but…"

Gwen covered the distance Mr. Smith made when he backed away. "You will free them. You will pay them. And you will house them. And when they are ready to go North, you will ensure them safe passage and property. You can afford it."

"I will," Mr. Smith nodded heavily.

"You will what, Mr. Smith?" Gwen asked, making sure he understood.

"I will free them, pay them, house them, give them safe passage, and give them property. They are free. I will draw up the papers."

"Do it now," she said with finality.

"Yes, ma'am." Mr. Smith turned away and went straight to the house to get to work.

Arthur went to Gwen; the newly freed workers kept their distance but looked on in awe at what they just witnessed. Gwen looked at Arthur wearily, and then felt blood trickle out her nostril, and brought her handkerchief to her nose.

They couldn't interfere with human crimes. Wars, slavery, the Holocaust, so many atrocities could've been ended with an easy push from a vampire. But it wasn't their duty. Humans had to right their own wrongs. And so did vampires.

Of all the things she's done, one of Gwen's biggest regrets is not stopping Trickler from killing a child when she had the chance. One night, she, Morgana, and her band of barbarians were on the prowl. They stumbled upon a father and son making their way home from a day out together. The little boy held a stuffed giraffe that was half his size under one arm and held his father's hand in the other. When they were spotted, someone said, "Dinner," and the group rushed forward. Gwen and Morgana stayed behind, watching.

Before the father could react, he was on the ground with three hungry baby vamps on top of him. He shouted at his son to run, and as the boy backed away, he bumped into Trickler.

"Ooh," Trickler grinned like the Cheshire cat, revealing his fangs. "Bite-sized. My favorite."

When Gwen saw Trickler pick up the child, she tried to make a move but Morgana stopped her. She wanted to rip her maker's arm off, but all she could do is watch as the mad vamp violently fed off the child hanging in his arms. Blood dripped on the stuffed giraffe dropped on the ground.

Despite the madness of each member in the group Morgana created, they all knew not to cross Gwen. Under Morgana's control, violence became second nature to her progeny, and sometimes Gwen didn't need to be told to attack.

"If Morgana knew you were here…" Trickler squeaked. "Working with the enemy!"

Gwen traced an invisible pattern with her finger on the table, still holding Trickler's gaze. "She hasn't told you? She released me."

"Oh. That would explain your absence, then." Trickler began to sweat.

"It's quite nice being free, not being forced to do what you're told," she said calmly. "But you and I both know I always did what I was told."

Trickler gulped.

"And now I've been told to get you to talk." She stopped tracing and started drumming her fingers, the vibration spreading through the table and the pattering of her nails unpleasant with his enhanced hearing.

"I don't know what you want to know," Trickler said hastily, not looking away from her hand.

"I think you do," Gwen said grimly and stood. She circled behind him until she sat on the table on his right side. She crossed her legs and leaned in. "What's Morgana planning, Trickler?"

He continued to look forward and clamped his mouth shut.

She patted his hand. "Come on, this will go much quicker if you say." She kept his eyes focused on him and watched him struggle to keep his attention straight ahead. "Look at me," she commanded.

His head snapped to her and she bent his fingers back, breaking them. Trickler's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his mouth opened to scream to which Gwen quickly said, "Don't scream." His jaw locked open and the veins bulged in his neck, and his fangs extracted from the shock, but no sound came out. She let go of his fingers, and there were pops and cracks as they slowly reset and healed. When Trickler's jaw relaxed, he closed his mouth and breathed heavily through his nose.

"What is Morgana planning?" Gwen asked again.

Trickler's breathing slowed, and he sneered. "You bitch!"

"Wrong answer." She broke his fingers again and let him scream. Gwen reached in his mouth and snagged one of his fangs between her fingers and pulled. Trickler cry was garbled, choking as blood fell back down his throat, and he thrashed. Gwen looked at the tooth with disgust then dropped it on the table just out of reach of his reach.

Trickler clawed at it with his broken and bruised digits, unable to grasp it. Gwen watched him before sliding off the table and moving to his other side. This time, she gripped his cheeks with one hand, her nails digging into his skin. "Last chance, Trickler."

His lips puckered trying to form words. She moved her hand to grip his neck tightly, but with enough slack to let him speak.

"She-she's gonna kill 'im. She's gonna kill him and anyone who stands in her w-way," Trickler said, gasping.

Gwen squeezed his throat to make him continue. He wheezed. "A-a-nd m-make sure vamps r-rule again…take b-back the land. H-humans will bow d-down."

"What is she going to do next? When is she coming for Arthur?" Gwen stressed.

"I-I-I don't know," he said honestly, gulping for air. "P-Please let me go. I'll do a-anything you want," he pleaded.

She eyed the other fang, out of place without its partner. She pulled that one out, too, without a second thought. She'd pull out all of his teeth if she could, for every child that saw his crude smile before being killed. She'd pull out every tooth that touched a child's flesh. "There is one thing you will do," she said, and whispered in his ear.

Elyan's been on the receiving end of Gwen's wrath on many occasions. The most he'd receive is a tongue lashing and a slap on the head, but followed by a sisterly hug. Percival and Leon witnessed many of these moments, secretly fearing that because she saw them as a brothers, she'd do the same to them if they was ever out of line. The silent treatment, scolding, a glare; those were once Gwen's methods of punishment, of torture. Tough sisterly love.

Gwaine thought the most aggressive Gwen got was the time she slammed him into the table when they first met. He'd tease her and provoke her, and all she would do is laugh him off. Except for the time when he laid on the end of her bed, bothering her while she was reading. She kicked him off while keeping her eye on the page. When he sat up from the floor, peeking at her over the end of the bed, she peered over the top of her book, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He smiled back.

Lance couldn't believe what he was seeing. Gentle feeding Gwen, the girl he would sneak into museums and the Eiffel Tower with after closing, the girl he secretly fell in love with. He would have never suspected...

Arthur watched as Gwen backed away from Trickler, take both his fangs in her hand and leave the room. When she pulled the first one out, Leon asked him if they should stop it. Arthur said no. Gwen was always verbally persuasive. This was new, and he couldn't help but keep watching, gaining insight into how much she's changed.

Gwen came through the door and dropped Trickler's fangs into the trash. They were all silent, unsure of what to say. "You can let him go," she said, tired. She held her left hand, untainted by Trickler's blood, against her nose, trying to stop the nose bleed.

Merlin, the only one without preconceived notions of Gwen, stepped forward handing her tissues. He lowered her in a chair, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we should call it a day."

The ride back to Arthur penthouse was silent. He wanted to go back to Avalon, where things were progressing nicely, but it was too late and the holiday was cut short. When they got home Gwen said, "Are you going to say anything?"

"What the hell was that?" was all Arthur could muster.

"Habit." She tried to sound unconcerned, and maybe would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for the fact that she couldn't look at him.

Arthur processed that one word. "A habit," he said. "Torturing is a habit?" He watched her pick at the bloody sleeve, not disturbed by it, unlike the clothing she threw away that only smelled of blood though none was on it. "You wanted him dead."

"Trickler was a monster," she said quietly.

Was? Arthur's brow furrowed. "Guinevere, what did you whisper in his ear?"

Morgana's hideout was a mess. She trashed the place after Gwen left, and Morgause just watched her let out let out her frustration. No one was even going to try and clean because Morgana would just ransack the place again. Morgana's held herself in her messy fortress for a week, plotting, shouting, and crying in Gwen's room, and no one would say a word.

There was a knock on the door and Morgause kicked junk out of the way to open it. Trickler was on the other side, and she and moved aside to let him in.

Morgana looked at him sourly. "And where have you been?"

I want you to send a message to Morgana from me.

Trickler seemed unfazed by the mess. He pulled out a crudely carved stake. Morgause stiffened and Morgana anticipated his next move.

"Gwen says Merry Christmas," Trickler said and ran the stake through his heart.

She refused to say anymore. Arthur pleaded with her to tell her what Morgana's made her do over the years, but Gwen locked herself in the guestroom for the rest of the night. She heard Arthur swear and retreat to his room.

Gwen hated Arthur's penthouse. The bachelor pad was monochromatic and missed that warmth that made a home a home. They filled the vast space of Avalon better with just the two of them, than Arthur did alone in his flat. The morning after the Trickler situation, she wasn't surprised when she opened the expensive stainless steel fridge to find it sparse. Eggs, beer, blood, and condiments. Sure they've been at Avalon and Hunith's the last few days, but she expected a bit more to be left in the fridge. The state of the freezer was just as sad. She found half a loaf of bread in the drawer and settled on making bland French toast.

Arthur entered wiping the sleep off his face. "And the balance of nature has been restored," he smiled tiredly, referring to her being up before him.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said placing the French toast on the table. "It's just that…"

"You're not ready," he finished, understanding. He made a face when he bit into the toast. "Isn't there supposed to be cinnamon in this?"

She was glad he understood. "Yeah. And vanilla. We need to go shopping. For food and for clothes."

They got the groceries first. Arthur pushed the cart while Gwen loaded it with things he never thought to buy before. She was also looking out for sales. He told her money was no object, but she insisted on saving. They bought all the necessities except for bread, which they got fresh from Seward's, a vampire bakery. When the owner and her son saw Arthur and Gwen, they smiled brightly.

"Well, look who walked in," Gelda, the baker said. Her son, Tyr, was already putting together their signature rolls and loafs they've made for almost two centuries.

"It's been so long," Tyr said, bumbling and blushing when he saw Gwen. "Welcome home."

It was the day after Christmas and people were already putting their gift cards to good use. Arthur sighed in relief when he sat on the bench. He didn't realize how exhausting shopping for an entirely new wardrobe would be. He kind of felt awkward sitting outside the lingerie store while Gwen went inside. If things were different, he'd be in there with her, but now, shopping for intimates with someone you were no longer intimate with didn't seem appropriate. Of all stores the bench needed to be placed, though.

A woman walked out of the store checking her phone and sat next to him on the bench. When she put it down, she noticed him. Arthur had to admit that she was pretty. She tried making small talk, which he responded to politely. Her name was Sophia; that's all he got out of the conversation. Not really paying attention, he didn't notice that she had scooted closer to him.

Gwen was standing in line when she looked out the store's window and saw a pretty blonde scoot closer to Arthur on the bench. The woman in line behind her watch Gwen with interest, impressed that she could move when the line moved while focusing her attention elsewhere.

Something was nagging her in the back of the brain. She didn't want to say it was jealousy, but it was. Arthur told her he searched for her for the eighty years, but did he ever…stray? Find relief in someone else's arms? She finally looked away when she reached the register. The transaction was a bit long due to her large purchase, but when it was done she walked briskly out the door, slowing down when she exited with feign calm.

"I'll carry that for you," Arthur offered reaching for the bag.

Gwen held it determinedly. "I'm not making you carry around a bag full of underwear," she said and gave a hard stare at the blonde, making the girl uncomfortable.

"I need to go," Sophia said quickly. "Uh, nice meeting you."

They watched her retreating form and Arthur turned back to Gwen. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?" She asked innocently.

Arthur smirked. "If looks could kill…"

She stopped pretending and said what was bothering her. "Where you with anyone during…"

Before Arthur could answer, a teenager bumped into Gwen. "Sorry!" he apologized while helping her regain her balance. They looked at each other and stilled. "Gwen!" he exclaimed.

Before she could respond, she heard Arthur next to her. "Mordred?"

A/N: Mordred! Anyone see that coming? Because I didn't. I added him at the last minute when an interesting thought popped into my head that will be revealed in the next chapter. The next chapter's a big one (plot-wise and maybe in length, too.) I haven't written it yet, but I'm excited. I hope you are, too :D

THANKS ALWAYS for reading and reviewing!