Comments: Another little chapter, hope you like it. Thanks Augustmist x
As Guinevere sat in front of the mirror carefully pulling the flowers from her hair she heard a knock at the door.
Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she opened the door... Arthur stood there and she moved out of the way to let him in. She closed the door behind him and she watched as he looked around the room, noticing any changes.
"Arthur?" she questioned, he turned around and looked at her, he didn't talk he just made his way across the room, a determined look crossing his face.
Her knees went weak as he tilted her back and his lips met hers, she groaned and his tongue now traced her mouth. Arthur was not a man for words – but, boy, did he know how to do the action!
She relaxed, her temporary shock now replaced with equal passion and her hands laced through his golden hair. She knew why he was here, Morgana's words had caused him an injury and he had come to her to heal it, to seek confirmation that she was his and no one else's.
He eventually pulled his mouth from hers and she stared into his perfect blue eyes. He smiled at her and pulled her back to stand straight, her lips were swollen and her mouth remained slightly open as his arms now left her.
He ran his hands through his hair, looking for the right words.
Gwen composed herself, she didn't want them to spend the evening opening up old wounds; she wanted to just feel his lips again on hers again.
She got closer to him "Just kiss me, Arthur." Her breath tickled his lips and he complied.
------
They lay together, dishevelled and silent. No words were needed; she was his Guinevere and no-one else's.
Guinevere's hand gently stroked his hard chest... She felt completely safe in his arms, which sounded strange considering she was lying in the Crown Prince's arms and at any moment someone could burst in and her life would be over. But right now, for a few moments: life was perfect.
She eventually drifted off to sleep, his heart beat making the perfect lullaby. He carefully untangled himself from her. Placing a kiss on her forehead and a blanket over her sleeping body, he silently crept away into the night.
As he walked back to the castle, his head still rang from the night he had just had. Something was going on with Morgana. He was not talking about her comment about Lancelot – after all she could not be aware of the inner conflicts it caused him – but she had intentionally caused harm to Guinevere. Morgana had always cared for her maid above everyone, but tonight… He could see it in her eyes: she did it on purpose to wound her and he didn't know why. If he thought back to the first few days she had returned, he noticed how different she was. Of course, on the outside she may have seemed normal, but inside something had changed.
His speculations, however, were stopped when he saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eye. It was late in the evening and not many people wandered the castle at this hour – so the prince went to investigate.
He followed the sound of footsteps, his hand on his sword. He quickly turned the corner and saw Morgana walking down the corridor, her green cloak swishing behind her. What was she doing up at this hour? He thought about going after her, asking her if she was alright, but after this evening! All he wanted was to go to his chambers and rest. He would talk to her another time.