(no subject)
For jazzebelles and her prompt on HeroineXchange.
Title: Six Days With a Princess
Author: Me, Rachel Marie
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: Up to 2.04 + spoilery pictures for future episodes!
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me. Probably for the best.
Summary: Much to her chagrin, Gwen gets a new mistress. And she has her sights set on a certain prince.
Author’s notes: First post and first piece of writing for this pair. I ran a few pages too far for the comments section of HeroineXchange ... but, jazzebelles, I hope you enjoy. I should add that in some thread, somewhere, someone referred to Princess Chats-a-lot as "Elaine," and it stuck. So thanks for for that, whoever you are! Unbetaed. <3
Gwen had no future as a court jester or any other sort of performer, but her current balancing act was enough to make her consider the idea. With one hand, she balanced a silver platter of fruits and biscuits against her hip, while she held up the hem of her skirt with the other, taking the stairs out of the kitchens nearly two at a time. This was her third trip back and forth, and she was beginning to feel spent.
She prided herself on maintaining a positive attitude about most things, but this week had thoroughly pushed Gwen’s limit. She’d been happy to oblige Morgana’s request that she see to the comfort of Camelot’s royal visitors days earlier. But lending an extra hand had somewhere along the line translated to becoming young Princess Elaine’s personal handmaiden, much to her chagrin.
Elaine was nice, to be sure. Nice enough, given her high stature. She didn’t snap at Gwen as some of the nobility was wont to do, and her sense of entitlement - while expected - was not accompanied by a cold exterior.
Gwen spent the first fateful day hot on Elaine’s heels, for such a small thing she had quite the stride. She’d only been able to catch about half the princess’s words as she prattled on about, “Oh, at home-” this and “In our castle-” that. Gwen gave up on seeing much of Morgana or Merlin and resigned herself to helping rearrange Elaine’s apartments in a manner more suitable to her tastes - as close to the way things were arranged wherever she was from, Gwen eventually pieced together. And while Elaine and her father, King Haden, dined with the Uther, Arthur and Morgana, Gwen turned down Elaine’s bed with summer bed dressings, more delicate for Elaine’s “Ever so sensitive!” skin. She found out Elaine’s golden locks required two hundred brush strokes on each side - expertly executed by Gwen herself - before she was willing to turn in to bed, and hung around for another hour in case Elaine required anything else before retiring herself. Elaine had thanked her for her efforts, and that had been enough.
Rumors spread quickly in Camelot, though, and there were few pretenses surrounding Elaine and her father’s visit.
It had long been the appropriate time for Arthur to take a wife, and in light of the recent … mishap … with the king’s own bride, Uther was apparently eager to see a fruitful royal marriage come to fruition. The knight’s tournament was a good enough reason for the king to extend an invitation to his long standing ally from the south to visit, and according to kitchen gossip, Uther had added a strong encouragement to his missive that Haden bring his unwed daughter.
As the old cook and a number of servant girls gathered around the table that second morning, going on and on about Elaine’s beauty and fitness to be queen one day, Gwen gathered her temporary mistress’s breakfast and climbed the stairs to her apartments, ears burning.
“My lady,” she began, seeing Elaine awake and in her bed. “I hope you slept well.”
Elaine gave Gwen a small smile and sat up against her pillows, but didn’t budge. They stared at each other for a moment, until Elaine gave a very soft cough and flicked her eyes over to her dressing gown. Gwen gave a start, retrieved it and went to stand by the bed … where she waited, until Elaine cleared her throat once more. Gwen pulled back the covers, and Elaine gave an exaggerated yawn before finally standing.
“My goodness, it is dreadfully cold here!” she exclaimed, making for her seat in front of the breakfast tray.
Gwen locked her hands behind her back. “It’s been a rather warm May …”
But Elaine barely seemed to register her words. “It’s a wonder I slept at all - oh, thank you - that bed was so large and cold. If it wouldn’t trouble you, do see to it that the winter blankets are replaced on the bed-”
Gwen bit down on her lip. “Of course.”
Elaine began to eat in silence, and Gwen began making the bed, content with her own thoughts rather than conversation, thinking sourly about the work she was about to undo.
After breakfast, Elaine dressed - or, Gwen dressed Elaine - and embarked on what she termed “a walk.” Except Gwen was horrified to find that Princess Elaine’s walk primarily involved passing conspicuously back and forth by the knight’s training grounds as they prepared for the tournament to begin the next day. Though the princess seemed to have little shame about ogling Arthur and the other men from a short distance away, Gwen studiously avoided catching anyone’s gaze, content to answer questions when they arose and otherwise turning out to Elaine’s rambling as best she could.
After a short period of silent treatment in light of the kidnapping debacle (as Gwen had come to think of it), she and Arthur and found a comfortable neutrality. They were at least able to acknowledge each other again, even if they no longer conversed with the ease they had shared during his hideaway at her house. She even fancied that one day they might have some kind of friendship - or as much friendship a servant, such as herself, could share with the prince. But there were no declarations of affection, and Gwen had stopped allowing herself lingering gazes his way. And since she stopped looking, there’d be no way to see if she was receiving any in return.
She had scolded herself into realizing that any future with Arthur was folly, fantasy, and she’d take care to remember that.
But talk of an engagement between Elaine and Arthur made her feel rather nauseous. Of course he would eventually find a noblewoman to settle down and marry, but … so soon?
The sound of metal clanging and Elaine let out a rather loud squeak, drawing Gwen out of her reverie. Gwen’s gaze snapped up from the ground, settling first upon her mistress with her hands clasped over her heart and an openly romantic, wide-eyed gaze, then toward the men, where Arthur was reaching down to offer a fallen knight a hand up. His head turned and caught Gwen’s eye, and she immediately felt a familiar flush creep up her neck. His unreadable expression quickly slid into a self-satisfied smirk that made Gwen turn away.
“My he is fit,” murmured Elaine, holding on to the rail before her and ogling him some more.
Gwen turned her back to him. “He’s okay.”
On the third evening, after the tournament festivities, Gwen helped Elaine dress for supper once more.
“The crown prince is very skilled with a sword,” remarked the princess, tapping a thoughtful finger against her bottom lip as Gwen crouched by her ankles, helping her into her shoes.
Gwen hesitated as she straightened the bottom of Elaine’s green gown. “He has been training a long time, my lady.”
She could hear the smirk in Elaine’s voice. “That much is apparent,” she replied, before sighing rather loudly. “I’ve never set eyes upon a man so … skilled with his hands.” Gwen repressed a gag. “Nor have I seen such a handsome face. Oh, there are some decent ones at home to be sure, but Arthur-”
“Will this be all, my lady?” Gwen interrupted, standing.
Elaine gave a start and stared at her blankly for a moment, before smiling knowingly. “My cape, if you’d be so kind, Gwen.”
With a nod, she went to the boudoir, and Elaine drifted in front of a mirror. “He shall make a fine husband.”
Gwen’s head was suddenly throbbing, and she very much so wanted to lie down. She fumbled through the closet, taking a moment to collect herself.
“Do you not think so?” asked Elaine lightly.
“I wouldn’t know, and it’s not for me to judge,” she managed. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “My lady.”
She finished dressing Elaine in silence, affixing the gold throw over one should and tying her hair back for her. She stepped back for Elaine to evaluate herself in the mirror, and tamp down another pang of distress. Elaine was beautiful, delicate. Her hands had never known work, and her forehead had never broken a sweat. She looked like a gold jewel from head to toe, and there was no way Arthur wouldn’t notice.
No reason he shouldn’t notice, Gwen corrected herself.
After all, when you got past the rather grating way Elaine elongated her vowels and the propensity for drama in her reactions when men were about … and her too-perfect hair … and the slightly irritating way that she cleared her throat when she wanted you to notice something, she was really all right. At the very least, very pretty. And Arthur deserved somebody … pretty.
Yes, that was it.
The next day, Gwen resolved to have a very good attitude about the whole affair. She wasn’t privy to dinner between the visiting party and Uther, Arthur and Morgana, but she hoped they were going well enough. Elaine had been sweet and Gwen decided it was time for her to grow up, no use in being hurt by any of this.
She did her best to enjoy the tournament. Arthur was doing well, but Gwen expected no less, and she had fun enough watching from the side lines - there being no space with Morgana as Elaine was in her usual seat. She resisted feeling badly when Arthur exchanged a few words with his father (Uther making several pointed looks in Elaine’s direction), and she excused herself early when it seemed he’d pass by her to get to his tent.
The morning of the fifth day, Gwen arrived in the kitchens bright and early to retrieve Elaine’s breakfast.
“Good morning, Maggie,” she greeted the cook, setting down a bundle of flowers she’d picked for Elaine’s room the previous day.
The older woman gave Gwen a warm, tired smile and nodded toward some fresh bread. “I’ve been working on that, if you’d like a bite.”
Gwen thanked her and chewed away as she began assembling the pieces of Elaine’s meal, happy to work and happy to be surrounded by other working people, and also quite proud of her renewed good attitude. Though much of the castle was still asleep, the kitchen was steaming and full of life already, people passing in and out, ready to tend to the needs of the nobility.
The smile was soon wiped off her face once more. It came in pieces, but Gwen received the message no less. She’d get some relief from Elaine that evening, it seemed, because word had it that the prince had extended an invitation for Elaine to share a private meal with him, likely in his quarters. And if the gossip of a few other chambermaids was to be believed, Arthur would be betrothed by the end of the week.
Instead of allowing herself to be bowled over by hurt or anguish, Gwen to a skeptical position and went about her business - though she did decide at the last minute to chuck her flowers out at the last minute in lieu of putting them in Elaine’s quarters. And since Elaine made no mention of special dinner plans over breakfast, Gwen chalked that story up to rumor once more and carried on with the day, opting to clean instead of watch the remainder of the tournament.
In the late afternoon, as the sun began to set, Elaine swept back into her room with another young woman in tow - a lady of Camelot that Gwen hardly knew at all - to prepare for supper. Grateful Elaine had someone other than her to talk to, Gwen got on with retrieving the green gown Elaine had wore to dinner previously.
“Oh no,” sighed Elaine, clucking her tongue at Gwen, “I couldn’t possibly wear that again.”
“What would you prefer to wear, my lady?” asked Gwen politely, draping the garment over her arm.
Elaine turned to face the mirror, twirling a ringlet of hair around her finger. “The red,” she replied decisively. “I’ve seen him in red before.”
There was little doubt to whom she referred, and Gwen stopped herself from rolling her eyes until her back was turned. Another voice, Elaine’s companion, piped up from the chaise lounge beside the window. “It does flatter him so,” she murmured, clearly recalling.
Gwen stepped forward, this time with a silky red thing in tow, and she laid it out on the bed before helping Elaine out of the dress she was already in. When she pulled the new dress over the princess’s head, her companion gasped in delight. “Oh, it is a beautiful dress!”
Elaine smiled at her reflection, batting her eyelashes at herself. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“If I know anything about Prince Arthur-”
Gwen’s stomach dropped. She stared at Elaine’s reflection and watched her practice a few flirtatious moves while the other lady cooed and won her way into the affections of the future queen of Camelot.
And once Elaine was ready to leave - more than once Gwen repressed deep-down urges to step on the hem of the red dress as Elaine moved about - Gwen curtsied deeply and managed to get out, “To the dining hall then, my lady?”
Elaine sashayed by her, toward the door. “No!” she chirped, and went on her way.
That night, Gwen didn’t sleep a bit, plagued by visions of Elaine and Arthur staring into each other’s eyes, Arthur feeding Elaine dinner strawberries by hand, the shoulder of Elaine’s red dress falling to reveal one perfect pale shoulder, and proclamations of marriage between the two by the next morning.
And by the next morning, she had resolved to seek out Morgana and beg to return to her service, however uncouth it might be. Marriage in the works or not, Gwen was about at the end of her rope.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t given to selfish impulses and failed in that regard, as was evident by her balancing act.
Elaine and her companions - the part of two had now grown by three, no doubt other young ladies who wanted to find favor and “friendship” with the young woman who was certain to be Arthur’s bride - first wanted biscuits, then decided to watch their figures and that Gwen should take the treats away. And then, upon her return, Elaine had changed her mind and decided yes, she was still hungry, and a little fruit would do no harm. Gwen, for her part, was only thankful that she hadn’t spent too much time in Elaine’s presence - little enough to avoid hearing any word on how her romantic date with Arthur had gone.
She stumbled up to the top of the stairs, and out into the courtyard, dropping her hem and taking the platter with two hands as she did so. If she could keep the ladies occupied with food long enough, maybe she’d have actually have a moment to seek out Morgana instead …
Distracted by her thoughts, and feeling a bit flustered over the whole thing anyway, Gwen stumbled forward over the step down into the courtyard. “Oh!” she exclaimed, righting herself almost immediately as the tray teetered in her hands. An apple bounced out and away.
She sighed and stepped after it, bending to pick it up just as another large hand entered her periphery.
“That’s okay, I’ve got it-” Gwen began, reaching down. But the other hand snatched it up before she could. She moved to stand and found herself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
“Oh - My lord,” she began, her voice betraying nothing.
Arthur nodded, “Guinevere.” Then, “You dropped an apple.”
She allowed herself a tight smile, deeply uncomfortable. “It seems I have.”
“You should be more careful,” he offered, not quite smiling himself. She balanced the tray on one hand again and reached out for it, but Arthur tsked and shook his head. “That’s not more careful.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Gwen murmured, taking the platter in both hands and sticking it out for him to replace the fallen fruit.
To that, he outright smirked, eyes twinkling. Gwen felt her heart constrict a little, and she ducked her head and curtseyed. But as she stepped to go around him, Arthur moved as well, blocking her path to the guest apartments. With the same mischievous expression playing on his face, he tossed his pilfered apple into the air and caught it. “Where are you off to in such a rush?”
Gwen sighed. “Princess Elaine requested a mid-morning snack, and I’d best not keep her waiting,” she replied, avoiding his gaze as she repressed the same visions her mind tormented her with the previous night. Arthur gave a slight nod, and she stepped around him … but then, against her better judgment, paused. “I trust your dinner with her was … pleasant, my lord?”
Heaven and earth, Gwen!
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at her, his mouth drawn tight before forming another sly smile. She turned to face him head on. “Dinner?” he repeated.
Gwen gave a slight nod. “Elaine was … very excited.”
“She does tend to be.”
Gwen hesitated, then turned to leave once more. Still, unable to help herself, she looked at him again. “I suppose I’ll be preparing the castle for her … lengthy stay?”
At that, Arthur grinned at her outright. “What are you getting at, Guinevere?”
“Nothing, my lord.”
“Are you asking if I’m marrying her?”
“Not at all, my lord.”
But now they were both smiling, and Gwen felt very foolish. Arthur took a few steps toward her She stared up at into his face, and wished she’d had the nerve to agree with Elaine about how handsome he was when she’d brought it up in the first place.
“You know, Guinevere,” Arthur began, his voice softer now, “My father did just marry a troll. So you’ll understand if I doubt his taste in women.” He placed the apple back on her tray. “Besides, she’s awfully chatty.”
She tamped down another grin. “I should be getting back to Elaine now,” she murmured. Arthur gave a little nod, smiling, and Gwen ducked her head. And as she hurried back to Elaine’s side, she mused to herself that she’d try to find the time to pick her some flowers after all.
Title: Six Days With a Princess
Author: Me, Rachel Marie
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: Up to 2.04 + spoilery pictures for future episodes!
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me. Probably for the best.
Summary: Much to her chagrin, Gwen gets a new mistress. And she has her sights set on a certain prince.
Author’s notes: First post and first piece of writing for this pair. I ran a few pages too far for the comments section of HeroineXchange ... but, jazzebelles, I hope you enjoy. I should add that in some thread, somewhere, someone referred to Princess Chats-a-lot as "Elaine," and it stuck. So thanks for for that, whoever you are! Unbetaed. <3
Gwen had no future as a court jester or any other sort of performer, but her current balancing act was enough to make her consider the idea. With one hand, she balanced a silver platter of fruits and biscuits against her hip, while she held up the hem of her skirt with the other, taking the stairs out of the kitchens nearly two at a time. This was her third trip back and forth, and she was beginning to feel spent.
She prided herself on maintaining a positive attitude about most things, but this week had thoroughly pushed Gwen’s limit. She’d been happy to oblige Morgana’s request that she see to the comfort of Camelot’s royal visitors days earlier. But lending an extra hand had somewhere along the line translated to becoming young Princess Elaine’s personal handmaiden, much to her chagrin.
Elaine was nice, to be sure. Nice enough, given her high stature. She didn’t snap at Gwen as some of the nobility was wont to do, and her sense of entitlement - while expected - was not accompanied by a cold exterior.
Gwen spent the first fateful day hot on Elaine’s heels, for such a small thing she had quite the stride. She’d only been able to catch about half the princess’s words as she prattled on about, “Oh, at home-” this and “In our castle-” that. Gwen gave up on seeing much of Morgana or Merlin and resigned herself to helping rearrange Elaine’s apartments in a manner more suitable to her tastes - as close to the way things were arranged wherever she was from, Gwen eventually pieced together. And while Elaine and her father, King Haden, dined with the Uther, Arthur and Morgana, Gwen turned down Elaine’s bed with summer bed dressings, more delicate for Elaine’s “Ever so sensitive!” skin. She found out Elaine’s golden locks required two hundred brush strokes on each side - expertly executed by Gwen herself - before she was willing to turn in to bed, and hung around for another hour in case Elaine required anything else before retiring herself. Elaine had thanked her for her efforts, and that had been enough.
Rumors spread quickly in Camelot, though, and there were few pretenses surrounding Elaine and her father’s visit.
It had long been the appropriate time for Arthur to take a wife, and in light of the recent … mishap … with the king’s own bride, Uther was apparently eager to see a fruitful royal marriage come to fruition. The knight’s tournament was a good enough reason for the king to extend an invitation to his long standing ally from the south to visit, and according to kitchen gossip, Uther had added a strong encouragement to his missive that Haden bring his unwed daughter.
As the old cook and a number of servant girls gathered around the table that second morning, going on and on about Elaine’s beauty and fitness to be queen one day, Gwen gathered her temporary mistress’s breakfast and climbed the stairs to her apartments, ears burning.
“My lady,” she began, seeing Elaine awake and in her bed. “I hope you slept well.”
Elaine gave Gwen a small smile and sat up against her pillows, but didn’t budge. They stared at each other for a moment, until Elaine gave a very soft cough and flicked her eyes over to her dressing gown. Gwen gave a start, retrieved it and went to stand by the bed … where she waited, until Elaine cleared her throat once more. Gwen pulled back the covers, and Elaine gave an exaggerated yawn before finally standing.
“My goodness, it is dreadfully cold here!” she exclaimed, making for her seat in front of the breakfast tray.
Gwen locked her hands behind her back. “It’s been a rather warm May …”
But Elaine barely seemed to register her words. “It’s a wonder I slept at all - oh, thank you - that bed was so large and cold. If it wouldn’t trouble you, do see to it that the winter blankets are replaced on the bed-”
Gwen bit down on her lip. “Of course.”
Elaine began to eat in silence, and Gwen began making the bed, content with her own thoughts rather than conversation, thinking sourly about the work she was about to undo.
After breakfast, Elaine dressed - or, Gwen dressed Elaine - and embarked on what she termed “a walk.” Except Gwen was horrified to find that Princess Elaine’s walk primarily involved passing conspicuously back and forth by the knight’s training grounds as they prepared for the tournament to begin the next day. Though the princess seemed to have little shame about ogling Arthur and the other men from a short distance away, Gwen studiously avoided catching anyone’s gaze, content to answer questions when they arose and otherwise turning out to Elaine’s rambling as best she could.
After a short period of silent treatment in light of the kidnapping debacle (as Gwen had come to think of it), she and Arthur and found a comfortable neutrality. They were at least able to acknowledge each other again, even if they no longer conversed with the ease they had shared during his hideaway at her house. She even fancied that one day they might have some kind of friendship - or as much friendship a servant, such as herself, could share with the prince. But there were no declarations of affection, and Gwen had stopped allowing herself lingering gazes his way. And since she stopped looking, there’d be no way to see if she was receiving any in return.
She had scolded herself into realizing that any future with Arthur was folly, fantasy, and she’d take care to remember that.
But talk of an engagement between Elaine and Arthur made her feel rather nauseous. Of course he would eventually find a noblewoman to settle down and marry, but … so soon?
The sound of metal clanging and Elaine let out a rather loud squeak, drawing Gwen out of her reverie. Gwen’s gaze snapped up from the ground, settling first upon her mistress with her hands clasped over her heart and an openly romantic, wide-eyed gaze, then toward the men, where Arthur was reaching down to offer a fallen knight a hand up. His head turned and caught Gwen’s eye, and she immediately felt a familiar flush creep up her neck. His unreadable expression quickly slid into a self-satisfied smirk that made Gwen turn away.
“My he is fit,” murmured Elaine, holding on to the rail before her and ogling him some more.
Gwen turned her back to him. “He’s okay.”
On the third evening, after the tournament festivities, Gwen helped Elaine dress for supper once more.
“The crown prince is very skilled with a sword,” remarked the princess, tapping a thoughtful finger against her bottom lip as Gwen crouched by her ankles, helping her into her shoes.
Gwen hesitated as she straightened the bottom of Elaine’s green gown. “He has been training a long time, my lady.”
She could hear the smirk in Elaine’s voice. “That much is apparent,” she replied, before sighing rather loudly. “I’ve never set eyes upon a man so … skilled with his hands.” Gwen repressed a gag. “Nor have I seen such a handsome face. Oh, there are some decent ones at home to be sure, but Arthur-”
“Will this be all, my lady?” Gwen interrupted, standing.
Elaine gave a start and stared at her blankly for a moment, before smiling knowingly. “My cape, if you’d be so kind, Gwen.”
With a nod, she went to the boudoir, and Elaine drifted in front of a mirror. “He shall make a fine husband.”
Gwen’s head was suddenly throbbing, and she very much so wanted to lie down. She fumbled through the closet, taking a moment to collect herself.
“Do you not think so?” asked Elaine lightly.
“I wouldn’t know, and it’s not for me to judge,” she managed. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “My lady.”
She finished dressing Elaine in silence, affixing the gold throw over one should and tying her hair back for her. She stepped back for Elaine to evaluate herself in the mirror, and tamp down another pang of distress. Elaine was beautiful, delicate. Her hands had never known work, and her forehead had never broken a sweat. She looked like a gold jewel from head to toe, and there was no way Arthur wouldn’t notice.
No reason he shouldn’t notice, Gwen corrected herself.
After all, when you got past the rather grating way Elaine elongated her vowels and the propensity for drama in her reactions when men were about … and her too-perfect hair … and the slightly irritating way that she cleared her throat when she wanted you to notice something, she was really all right. At the very least, very pretty. And Arthur deserved somebody … pretty.
Yes, that was it.
The next day, Gwen resolved to have a very good attitude about the whole affair. She wasn’t privy to dinner between the visiting party and Uther, Arthur and Morgana, but she hoped they were going well enough. Elaine had been sweet and Gwen decided it was time for her to grow up, no use in being hurt by any of this.
She did her best to enjoy the tournament. Arthur was doing well, but Gwen expected no less, and she had fun enough watching from the side lines - there being no space with Morgana as Elaine was in her usual seat. She resisted feeling badly when Arthur exchanged a few words with his father (Uther making several pointed looks in Elaine’s direction), and she excused herself early when it seemed he’d pass by her to get to his tent.
The morning of the fifth day, Gwen arrived in the kitchens bright and early to retrieve Elaine’s breakfast.
“Good morning, Maggie,” she greeted the cook, setting down a bundle of flowers she’d picked for Elaine’s room the previous day.
The older woman gave Gwen a warm, tired smile and nodded toward some fresh bread. “I’ve been working on that, if you’d like a bite.”
Gwen thanked her and chewed away as she began assembling the pieces of Elaine’s meal, happy to work and happy to be surrounded by other working people, and also quite proud of her renewed good attitude. Though much of the castle was still asleep, the kitchen was steaming and full of life already, people passing in and out, ready to tend to the needs of the nobility.
The smile was soon wiped off her face once more. It came in pieces, but Gwen received the message no less. She’d get some relief from Elaine that evening, it seemed, because word had it that the prince had extended an invitation for Elaine to share a private meal with him, likely in his quarters. And if the gossip of a few other chambermaids was to be believed, Arthur would be betrothed by the end of the week.
Instead of allowing herself to be bowled over by hurt or anguish, Gwen to a skeptical position and went about her business - though she did decide at the last minute to chuck her flowers out at the last minute in lieu of putting them in Elaine’s quarters. And since Elaine made no mention of special dinner plans over breakfast, Gwen chalked that story up to rumor once more and carried on with the day, opting to clean instead of watch the remainder of the tournament.
In the late afternoon, as the sun began to set, Elaine swept back into her room with another young woman in tow - a lady of Camelot that Gwen hardly knew at all - to prepare for supper. Grateful Elaine had someone other than her to talk to, Gwen got on with retrieving the green gown Elaine had wore to dinner previously.
“Oh no,” sighed Elaine, clucking her tongue at Gwen, “I couldn’t possibly wear that again.”
“What would you prefer to wear, my lady?” asked Gwen politely, draping the garment over her arm.
Elaine turned to face the mirror, twirling a ringlet of hair around her finger. “The red,” she replied decisively. “I’ve seen him in red before.”
There was little doubt to whom she referred, and Gwen stopped herself from rolling her eyes until her back was turned. Another voice, Elaine’s companion, piped up from the chaise lounge beside the window. “It does flatter him so,” she murmured, clearly recalling.
Gwen stepped forward, this time with a silky red thing in tow, and she laid it out on the bed before helping Elaine out of the dress she was already in. When she pulled the new dress over the princess’s head, her companion gasped in delight. “Oh, it is a beautiful dress!”
Elaine smiled at her reflection, batting her eyelashes at herself. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“If I know anything about Prince Arthur-”
Gwen’s stomach dropped. She stared at Elaine’s reflection and watched her practice a few flirtatious moves while the other lady cooed and won her way into the affections of the future queen of Camelot.
And once Elaine was ready to leave - more than once Gwen repressed deep-down urges to step on the hem of the red dress as Elaine moved about - Gwen curtsied deeply and managed to get out, “To the dining hall then, my lady?”
Elaine sashayed by her, toward the door. “No!” she chirped, and went on her way.
That night, Gwen didn’t sleep a bit, plagued by visions of Elaine and Arthur staring into each other’s eyes, Arthur feeding Elaine dinner strawberries by hand, the shoulder of Elaine’s red dress falling to reveal one perfect pale shoulder, and proclamations of marriage between the two by the next morning.
And by the next morning, she had resolved to seek out Morgana and beg to return to her service, however uncouth it might be. Marriage in the works or not, Gwen was about at the end of her rope.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t given to selfish impulses and failed in that regard, as was evident by her balancing act.
Elaine and her companions - the part of two had now grown by three, no doubt other young ladies who wanted to find favor and “friendship” with the young woman who was certain to be Arthur’s bride - first wanted biscuits, then decided to watch their figures and that Gwen should take the treats away. And then, upon her return, Elaine had changed her mind and decided yes, she was still hungry, and a little fruit would do no harm. Gwen, for her part, was only thankful that she hadn’t spent too much time in Elaine’s presence - little enough to avoid hearing any word on how her romantic date with Arthur had gone.
She stumbled up to the top of the stairs, and out into the courtyard, dropping her hem and taking the platter with two hands as she did so. If she could keep the ladies occupied with food long enough, maybe she’d have actually have a moment to seek out Morgana instead …
Distracted by her thoughts, and feeling a bit flustered over the whole thing anyway, Gwen stumbled forward over the step down into the courtyard. “Oh!” she exclaimed, righting herself almost immediately as the tray teetered in her hands. An apple bounced out and away.
She sighed and stepped after it, bending to pick it up just as another large hand entered her periphery.
“That’s okay, I’ve got it-” Gwen began, reaching down. But the other hand snatched it up before she could. She moved to stand and found herself looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
“Oh - My lord,” she began, her voice betraying nothing.
Arthur nodded, “Guinevere.” Then, “You dropped an apple.”
She allowed herself a tight smile, deeply uncomfortable. “It seems I have.”
“You should be more careful,” he offered, not quite smiling himself. She balanced the tray on one hand again and reached out for it, but Arthur tsked and shook his head. “That’s not more careful.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Gwen murmured, taking the platter in both hands and sticking it out for him to replace the fallen fruit.
To that, he outright smirked, eyes twinkling. Gwen felt her heart constrict a little, and she ducked her head and curtseyed. But as she stepped to go around him, Arthur moved as well, blocking her path to the guest apartments. With the same mischievous expression playing on his face, he tossed his pilfered apple into the air and caught it. “Where are you off to in such a rush?”
Gwen sighed. “Princess Elaine requested a mid-morning snack, and I’d best not keep her waiting,” she replied, avoiding his gaze as she repressed the same visions her mind tormented her with the previous night. Arthur gave a slight nod, and she stepped around him … but then, against her better judgment, paused. “I trust your dinner with her was … pleasant, my lord?”
Heaven and earth, Gwen!
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at her, his mouth drawn tight before forming another sly smile. She turned to face him head on. “Dinner?” he repeated.
Gwen gave a slight nod. “Elaine was … very excited.”
“She does tend to be.”
Gwen hesitated, then turned to leave once more. Still, unable to help herself, she looked at him again. “I suppose I’ll be preparing the castle for her … lengthy stay?”
At that, Arthur grinned at her outright. “What are you getting at, Guinevere?”
“Nothing, my lord.”
“Are you asking if I’m marrying her?”
“Not at all, my lord.”
But now they were both smiling, and Gwen felt very foolish. Arthur took a few steps toward her She stared up at into his face, and wished she’d had the nerve to agree with Elaine about how handsome he was when she’d brought it up in the first place.
“You know, Guinevere,” Arthur began, his voice softer now, “My father did just marry a troll. So you’ll understand if I doubt his taste in women.” He placed the apple back on her tray. “Besides, she’s awfully chatty.”
She tamped down another grin. “I should be getting back to Elaine now,” she murmured. Arthur gave a little nod, smiling, and Gwen ducked her head. And as she hurried back to Elaine’s side, she mused to herself that she’d try to find the time to pick her some flowers after all.