three word prompt: Don’t say it.
This shouldn’t have happened. It was improper for a woman to be alone with a man she was not related to in any capacity, let alone a serving girl alone with the future king. And yet, there Gwen was, tending to Arthur after a particularly nasty fall from his horse during the joust. She should have never thrown him that token, should have never convinced herself that it was a lighthearted gesture, all in good fun, a part of the game. It distracted him, and that distraction had gotten him hurt.
“Gwen,” came Arthur’s voice, a soft, slightly pained mumble. She ignored it, wiping his face with a cloth. He said her name again, and again she ignored it, her eyes steadily focused on a spot just above his head. If she didn’t look down, she wouldn’t be tempted to do something improper, or stupid, like press her lips against his forehead to let him know he wasn’t as alone as he might have felt in the moment.
Though the use of her full name was firmer, his hand encircling her wrist remained gentle. At last, she put down the cloth, looking into his eyes with a sigh.
She looked away, shaking her head in disagreement.
“Yes, it was. It was foolish. I forgot myself. And now you’re bruised and sore and it happened because of me.”
“If I had to lose that match a thousand times to get you to speak to me again, I would.”
She froze, her gaze returning to him quicker than lightning flashing. She was, after all, the one who had tried to put a stop to this. The clandestine meetings in stairwells, their fingers brushing as they passed each other in the great hall. A rendezvous in the woods, or if they were particularly emboldened, her cottage after dark. And she wasn’t angry with him, nor with herself. Princes and maidens dallied with each other, it was in nearly every fairy story she’d read. But it could not continue. The joust was a momentary lapse in judgement, a fantasy she had allowed herself. And as she gazed upon what it had cost her, something inside of her broke.
“You can’t say things like that.”
She huffed out a breath, rolling her eyes lightly. Ever argumentative, her Arthur was, especially about the things (and people) he wanted.
“You can’t. Not anymore.”
Arthur shifted, lifting himself up slowly so his back was against the headboard. Guinevere, in turn, shifted closer, her hands hovering above him as she sat by his side on his bed. He reached up and took them carefully, interlacing their fingers and giving them both a quick squeeze. Any words that remained within her fell silent when he lifted their joined hands and kissed the backs of hers. She didn’t think, leaning forward until he met her where she was, a kiss as light as air the only forewarning for the tumble she was about to take. She removed her hands from his, holding his face while his hands found her waist. It was all too familiar, this, him, and yet, it remained dizzying, leaving her breathless and feeling as though the world beneath her melted away, and all that remained was them. His lips were at her neck and her eyes were closed when she heard him inhale sharply. Immediately she opened them, her hands flying to his ribcage to try and stabilize him.
“I’m fine,” Arthur insisted, waving her off despite his wincing. Gwen exhaled, twisting her fingers through a few of her curls.
“Guinevere,” Arthur murmured again, pulling her closer to him. She allowed herself to go, curling up by his side, her head on his shoulder.
“This is impossible,” she reminded him, pressing a kiss against his bare shoulder, “you know that.”
“How can you be so certain?”
He looked down at her, his eyes filled with something she had seen only once before, when her father looked at her mother.
It was as much a whisper as a plea, because if he told her, there was no going back. There was no pretending that what they had wasn’t the most powerful thing either of them had ever felt. There was no pretending it wasn’t worth it to risk her life, her status, everything, for the chance to be with him. There was no pretending she didn’t feel it too. There was no pretending she wouldn’t do everything in her power to be with him, always.
Gwen kissed him quickly, just once. Arthur held her against him, and neither of them spoke.
Later, she would admit to herself that she was incorrect.
They had passed the point of no return long ago.
All that was left was to admit it.
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