Merlin retired to his room but Gwen was far too worked up to sleep. Promising Merlin she wouldn't go too far, she tugged a shawl around her shoulders and walked out into the cool night air.

Stars blinked down at her and she allowed that little bit of hope that had been building in her the moment she laid eyes on Arthur in the forge, freedom. She remembered how she used to think of Arthur looking down at her from the heavens. And how in moments, of selfishness, she'd wished he hadn't loved Camelot so much. But now, he was alive and well. Yes, he didn't seem to have his memories but surely time would fix that. Maybe if not time, then magic. Her mind drifted to how she'd broken an enchantment that had taken hold of them with a kiss. Perhaps a kiss would do the trick again.

In the cocoon of darkness, Gwen could finally consider what this meant for her and for Camelot. Memories of Arthur with Amber, his easy chatter and affectionate touches, went through her mind and she smiled in the darkness.

"Your father is back," she whispered as she rubbed her stomach. Her smile widened. "Your father is back," she said again, letting both relief and happiness flow through her. Arthur would be able to deal with the council and the fighting kingdoms. Her child would have a father and most importantly, she wouldn't be alone.

Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned, thinking it was Merlin checking up on her.

It was Arthur.

He could feel her hands tracing the line of his waistband, her tongue playing with his earlobe. She bit it playfully, then groaned when he cupped her bum through her shift. Small kisses were pressed against his jaw as her hands went lower, brushing lightly against his length but never fully touching him.

"Tease," he hissed, lips curling into a smile as his eyes closed, submitting to her ministrations.

Her breath puffed against his cheek when she laughed softly, moving to his throat to press more warm kisses on him. He opened his eyes. Her face was hidden in his neck but he could see her hair.

Her dark curls.

He shot up in bed, his chest rising and falling

The moon winked at him through his window, as if privvy to Kay's inappropriate dreams and he groaned, well aware that he wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again, not when he was awashed with need. Need for the woman sleeping in the room next to his. Was she even available? Was he even available? They had no more than an hour worth of interaction, so why was he so consumed by her? Confused and frustrated, he eased himself quietly out of bed, aware of the thin walls that separated the rooms. By now, he was familiar enough with the corridors to pad out of the tavern in the darkness, in search for some fresh air.

As he turned the corner, he saw her. He blinked, convinced it was a vision, borne from his desires, but it was her.

Her figure was silhouetted against the moon, her curls, released from their braid, danced in the light night breeze. Yet her postured revealed a sadness deep inside and while the smart thing to do would be to leave her to her thoughts, Kay found himself moving towards her.

He knew the moment she sensed his presence. Tightening her cloak around her, she turned. With the moonlight on her skin, her hair loose around her face, she looked like an ethereal princess. His body, again, reacted with desire, his skin tightening not just because of the cool air. Somehow he managed to make himself move, nodding in greeting and her returning smile filled him with warmth. She had to be someone precious to him. Why else was he reacting this way to her? But why was she acting as if she didn't know him? The thought that, perhaps, she no longer wanted him back in her life hit him and he stilled.

"Kay," she whispered, the word imbued with meaning he couldn't fathom.

Her whisper started him walking towards her, stopping only when he was a breath away, her lavender scent surrounding him. She didn't move away, instead lifting her hand to gently touch his cheek. He trapped her hand against his cheek with his, marvelling at how perfectly her smaller hand fit under his. Her eyes locked with his, those sad brown eyes that made his heart ache.

Then his eyes dropped to her lips.

She licked them.

With a harsh groan, he dipped his head and kissed her. It was brief, gentle and as he pulled away, something settled in his heart, something light, something warm and he couldn't help the smile that formed.

"Arthur," she sighed when their contact broke.

Kay took a step back, the warmth he was feeling just moments earlier dissipating. "Arthur?"

Her eyes snapped opened, her hand flying to her mouth as she took a step back.

"Who is Arthur?"

"This - this wasn't how - Merlin -" She stopped and drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have -"

"Who is Arthur?" He asked with more urgency, his hands grasping her upper arms, suddenly convinced that the answer to this question was the key to his past. She was the key to his past.

She looked at him, her gaze gentle. "You."

The breath he didn't realise he was holding whooshed out of him, a weight lifted off his heart. He was Arthur, possibly the husband of this woman in front of him. He smiled. "I'm Arthur. I didn't know." Then he laughed, suddenly overwhelmed with affection for Gwen and gratitude that something had brought them here to Helb where he was. "I have so many questions!"

But Gwen looked troubled, stepping out of his hold and moving slightly away. Once again, the thought that she wanted nothing to do with him shot through him.

"Gwen," he frowned, uncertain. If he was her husband, shouldn't she be happy to see him? Or perhaps they weren't happily married as he always assumed. Or perhaps she wasn't his wife. Had he been having an affair? The thought made him sick, but who knew what kind of person he was before he lost his memory?

"We have to talk," she said quite seriously, still standing much too far from him. Her brow was furrowed and she bit her lip in nervousness, causing whatever excitement he felt just moments ago to disappear. She didn't look like she had anything good to tell him. All his fears came rising to the surface.

He didn't remember. She'd kissed him with all the love she had for him and he didn't remember.

His eyes wary, he sat gingerly on the bench nearby when she gestured, then she followed suit. Not knowing where to start - did she tell him he was King Arthur of Camelot, did she tell him that it seemed like he had returned from the dead, did she tell him he was going to be a father - she said nothing, trying to sort out her thoughts, angry at herself for not listening to Merlin.

"Who am I to you?"

"You're my husband," she said quietly.

"Your husband," he repeated. Then his smile rivalled the brightness of the stars and Gwen never knew she could feel such happiness again. "I like that. Were you looking for me?"

Still smiling, she nodded. "Yes. Mer - Ambrose and I – he's your best friend – we heard rumours that someone who looked like my husband was living here and so we made the journey here to find out if they were true."

"So why didn't you say something earlier?"

She wanted to tell him it was complicated but he deserved better than that. Finally, she confessed, hoping he didn't think her out of her mind. "Because what do you do when you come face to face with someone you thought had been dead for two months?"

"Dead?" He looked at her. Even with the shadows on his face, she could sense his shock and disbelief. Whatever he had thought of, it clearly wasn't this.

Memories of Leon and Percival delivering the news of Arthur's death surfaced and she bit her lip, blinking back tears. Merlin was right. This didn't make any sense. If there had been a chance of Arthur still alive, Merlin would never have left his side. So why was Arthur now sitting next to her, as alive as he could be? In her joy at the possibility that Arthur was still alive, she hadn't taken Merlin's concerns seriously.

"Yes. There was a battle and we thought you'd died in it. Ambrose – he thought – he said that he'd buried you and – I don't understand," she sobbed as the tears she'd held back for so long, found their escape.

Arthur didn't laugh at her story nor did he recoil in shock or horror. Instead, he put his arm around her and tucked her into his side, into his familiar warmth. Turning her head, she cried into his shoulder as he murmured comfort, tentatively rubbing her back. She cried for his lost memories, for the months she'd lived thinking he was dead, for all they had suffered.

"Come, let's go back and get some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow," he said when her tears eventually dried and all that was left of her sobs were hiccups and short breaths. His hands cradled her face and after a moment's hesitation, he brushed his lips across hers. "If it helps, I'm happy that I'm married to you. I knew you were important the moment I saw you."