-14-

Guinevere made her way home with little fuss; the short walk from Tom's to her apartment doing little to clear her mind, but she determinedly pushed her worries away. There were more pressing issues she had to deal with, and the people who relied on her would not wait until she resolved her problems.

She kicked off her shoes as soon as she arrived at her flat and went to work at once. There were three cases that required her attention, and she was soon caught up in the paperwork needed to process them. Phone calls, e-mails, and going through legal reference took up most of her day. It wasn't until her mobile phone rang did she even realize that the day slipped by.

"Hello?" She asked into the mouthpiece.

"Sis?" It was her brother, Elyan.

"Hi, Elyan!" Guinevere put closed the folder of the file she was working on and smiled.

"Hey, Gwen," Elyan said. "I just wanted to let you know that dad and I got most of the arrangements for the hauling done. He wanted to give you a heads up in case you got worried.

She heard her Tom laughing in the background and despite her tiredness, Guinevere smiled, too.

"Mmmm," she gave a satisfied mumble. "That's good to know. So, do you guys need me for anything?"

"No, were good. This is basically gruntwork now. But we do need to get together for the insurance and the safety deposit boxes."

"All right, just let me know when I should be there."

"Won't be for another few days," Elyan's voice dropped to a whisper. "Dad's got a lot of stuff. He kept every single card we made for him in school."

Guinevere did laugh at that. Tom had always been sentimental.

Brother and sister chatted a bit more until she felt the beginnings of a headache. Elyan must've picked up on her tension because he asked if anything was the matter.

"No," Guinevere said as she rubbed her temple with a free hand. "Just a headache, that's all."

Elyan huffed. "Have you eaten anything at all today?"

She sheepishly answered to the negative.

After a few choice words from her brother, Guinevere conceded defeat and agreed that an early night in would be the best course of action. After saying her goodbyes, she ate a quick dinner and made her way to the bathroom, soaking away her tension in a hot bath before heading to bed.

And for the first time in months, Guinevere dreamt of Camelot.

She saw herself in Arthur's chambers, wearing lavender silk edged in pale gold lace. A heavy crown was on her head-amethysts nestled among filigreed gold flowers.

She was standing by an open window, looking at a moon that shone brightly over a dark stretch of land. In the dream, she was lost in thought, but her mind was calm. She felt no fear, just an overwhelming sense of peace accompanied by a fluttering of excitement in her stomach.

She was taken out of her reverie by the sound of an opening door. Guinevere turned and immediately smiles at the sight of Arthur, resplendent in a dark crimson cape, a crown of gold also encircling his head. He was dressed in ceremonial mail, the links glinting as they caught the light of what seemed like a thousand candles that were strewn about the room.

"My Lord," she said and dropped in a curtsy. Her actions, though, were meant more to tease than to show obeisance.

"My Queen." Arthur gave her a bow, but there was a wicked gleam in his eye as he straightened. "My wife."

He crossed the distance that separated them, his arms going about her waist as he reached her. He looked into her eyes as her fingers idly toyed with the dragons that decorated the clasp which held his cape in place.

"Alone at last," Guinevere whispered, loving how Arthur's breathing quickened at her words.

"Finally," he said in a voice that mirrored his desire.

"I've missed you, Arthur," she confessed.

For all its pomp and pageantry, her coronation had been a legal ceremony, installing her as a sovereign of the kingdom. Advisers had schooled her for weeks, telling her how to walk, to kneel, the words to say, and even where to train her eyes when the king placed the crown on her head.

Arthur had held her hand throughout most of the ceremony; his warmth a welcome comfort against the appraising looks she received from some of the invited royals. After all, it wasn't too long ago that she was a servant, and only a few months before banished from the kingdom for offenses against the crown.

But love had won out in the end. The wedding ceremony was simple and quiet, as she preferred. Their audience limited to the vicar, Gaius, Merlin, Elyan, and the knights closest to her and Arthur. Her now-husband had worried that she had no ladies-in-waiting, but she appeased him by saying that she had dressed and taken care of herself for years, and that she could manage without one for one more day.

Her dress had been simple, white lace over ivory silk, the boat neckline showing off the elegant lines of her neck and shoulders. She asked for no veil, instead opting to tie her curls back with her mother's silver hair clasp. She held a bouquet of lilacs, lavender, and wildflowers and their scent had permeated the small room where they were announced as husband and wife.

In contrast, her proclamation as Queen of Camelot was a day of festivity and by the end of it, Guinevere was tired and a bit cross because she and Arthur had to separate to attend to their guests. But her annoyance was forgotten as soon as her husband held her in his arms.

"You still smell like lavender," Arthur said as he buried his nose in her hair. "I must smell like a stable."

She laughed. "Hardly, my love. You smell like sunshine."

She planted a small kiss at the base of his neck, enjoying how his pulse seemed to flutter as she touched it with her lips.

"Guinevere," Arthur said, his voice drawing out her name in the way that made her weak in the knees.

"Crowns off?" She asked.

"Crowns off." He agreed.

Very gently, she lifted the crown from Arthur's head, setting it on one of the plush velvet pillows that had been placed on a table in their room. Arthur reciprocated her actions, but this time, he also took off the jeweled clasp that was used to pull back her hair. He ran his fingers through her curls, loosening them, until they flowed like a dark river down her back.

"Arthur," Guinevere said softly, lust coloring her voice.

He heard her and without much preamble, pulled her close to him and crushed her lips with his own.

Their hands were impatient and clothes were quickly removed. Silk, satin, and the finest of cottons pooled at their feet, and when Guinevere finally stood naked in front of her husband, there was no shyness in her eyes. She reveled in the love and desire she saw in Arthur's gaze, feeling her nipples harden under his gaze. Need uncoiled within her and every inch of her skin clamored for his touch.

Arthur carried her in his arms and laid her down on the bed, its rich velvet cover adding to the sensations brought about by his touch. He trailed reverent kisses from her temple to her shoulder to her hip, his fingers following the path they paved.

Guinevere moaned softly and ran her hands over Arthur's body, enjoying how he, too, felt under her touch. She found even greater pleasure when he gasped as her fingers found particularly sensitive spots along the way.

Her thighs parted of their own volition, inviting Arthur's gaze to her most secret places. He touched her core, his fingers finding her soft, wet, and hot. His thumb worked at the nub of flesh and nerves between her folds.

"Arthur," Guinevere said, her voice guttural. "Please."

"Please what, my Queen?"

"I need you."

He slid over her, his hard cock nestling between her folds.

"Guinevere," Arthur said, gritting his teeth as he fought for control. "This may hurt, love."

Her eyes showed no fear and no hesitation, just pure love for the beautiful man above her. Guinevere nodded and spread her legs wider, planting her feet on the bed, allowing Arthur to bury himself deep within her.

"I am yours Arthur," she said as she traveled her hands down the sides of his body, loving how his muscles formed steel under the silk of his skin. "Body and soul, I am yours, my King."

He slid slowly into her, making her feel every bit of his length but also caring so that no discomfort happens as their bodies join.

Guinevere moaned in her sleep, the images in her dream taking over as her body remembered how she moved with Arthur, calling out his name as she reached her climax.

Miles away, in a bedroom much like the one in her dream, Arthur's eyes sprang open the same time hers did. And like her, he is recalling a dream that is more memory than fiction. But while Guinevere was trying to rid herself of the images, Arthur was desperately holding on, his body craving hers and his heart longing for a woman who turned his life around mere hours after meeting.