She's No Scrubber; Merlin
Title: She's No Scrubber
Author: mydoctortennant
Warnings: Slight sexual references
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: 14a
Disclaimer: not mine etc etc
Dedication: For crayford for the prompt "relocation"
Summary: Scrubbing a floor isn't meant to cause such thoughts.
my merlin prompt table
With Morgana gone and the city no longer in crisis, Gwen had found herself working her fingers to the bone helping to get the city back into shape. Her current job consisted of scrubbing one of the floors of a rebuilt corridor. The Dragon had done a spectacular job of destroying the city, the fires had burned for days, he had killed dozens of people and more importantly - to Uther at least - the Knight’s that served.
Arthur had been busy for the last week trying to replace the men he had lost in battle. It was proving a difficult task. All the best fighters of Camelot had already been a Knight, now Arthur had to clutch at loose threads to try and tie together any semblance of an army together. It was getting late and with the fleeting light, Arthur had called it a day.
He pinched his nose as he walked up the corridor, he could feel a head ache coming on. No doubt his father would lecture him about it, and his lack of success. Tell him about the trials and tribulations of being King, and Arthur would pretend to listen whilst thinking about other things completely.
Gwen, on the other hand was still at work. She had a bucket of steadily cooling soapy water at her side, scrubbing brush in her hand. Arthur stopped in his path on seeing her, keeping about ten paces away. She hadn’t noticed him, so he settled for watching her just for a while.
He leant against the wall, watching as she swept a hair behind her ear before continuing it scrub the floor. He couldn’t see her face, but he imagined that her mouth would be set in a line, a slight frown on her brow, and concentration in her eyes. Or anger, he imagined her using tasks like this to take her frustrations out on the world. She wasn’t a particularly negatively minded person, or never presented herself that way, she hid her anger well most of the time.
He knew why she was frustrated this time. They had spoken about it. Actually had a conversation about anything other than their situation. She had told him about how she felt about Morgana. How she missed her. Yet at the same time, felt betrayed because she fraternised with the enemy. But more than anything how she wished she would return.
He had promised her once that her job would be safe and he wasn’t going back on that now. Even with Morgana no longer in the castle he had made it his personal ask to make sure there was a post for her. With the death toll from the battle against the Dragon, it hadn’t been difficult to find her something. In reality she was the seamstress, best in Camelot, but with all the cleaning that needed doing, she was lending a hand.
He continued to watch her from a distance. Back and forth. Back and Forth. Circles. Side to side.
He started to feel slightly uncomfortable watching her after a while. All the strength and the movements she was making. As she leant forward and leaning onto her knees and leaning back again, sitting on her feet. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. Uneasy.
Approaching her now would be awkward. He would have to go another way; he could detour back to his room before going to dinner. He would need to detour somewhere; he couldn’t turn up to dinner with his father in his current state.
It would poise questions he wouldn’t want to answer.
There were times when Arthur wished that there was no status keeping in the way of them; maybe they would be wed by now. Then his current problem would be easily solved, and he wouldn’t feel quite so guilty about the urges he was having.
He turned on his heel and walked off at a great speed. He had to get away from there.
Gwen turned as she heard his retreating footsteps, she frowned, why had he not said anything? Maybe he hadn’t seen her. She sighed and turned her attention back to the floor. Her skirts would be filthy when she was done; adding more work to her job list that was already long enough and rapidly growing.
One day she wouldn’t have to think about dirty dresses and scrubbing floors. She hoped
Author: mydoctortennant
Warnings: Slight sexual references
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: 14a
Disclaimer: not mine etc etc
Dedication: For crayford for the prompt "relocation"
Summary: Scrubbing a floor isn't meant to cause such thoughts.
my merlin prompt table
With Morgana gone and the city no longer in crisis, Gwen had found herself working her fingers to the bone helping to get the city back into shape. Her current job consisted of scrubbing one of the floors of a rebuilt corridor. The Dragon had done a spectacular job of destroying the city, the fires had burned for days, he had killed dozens of people and more importantly - to Uther at least - the Knight’s that served.
Arthur had been busy for the last week trying to replace the men he had lost in battle. It was proving a difficult task. All the best fighters of Camelot had already been a Knight, now Arthur had to clutch at loose threads to try and tie together any semblance of an army together. It was getting late and with the fleeting light, Arthur had called it a day.
He pinched his nose as he walked up the corridor, he could feel a head ache coming on. No doubt his father would lecture him about it, and his lack of success. Tell him about the trials and tribulations of being King, and Arthur would pretend to listen whilst thinking about other things completely.
Gwen, on the other hand was still at work. She had a bucket of steadily cooling soapy water at her side, scrubbing brush in her hand. Arthur stopped in his path on seeing her, keeping about ten paces away. She hadn’t noticed him, so he settled for watching her just for a while.
He leant against the wall, watching as she swept a hair behind her ear before continuing it scrub the floor. He couldn’t see her face, but he imagined that her mouth would be set in a line, a slight frown on her brow, and concentration in her eyes. Or anger, he imagined her using tasks like this to take her frustrations out on the world. She wasn’t a particularly negatively minded person, or never presented herself that way, she hid her anger well most of the time.
He knew why she was frustrated this time. They had spoken about it. Actually had a conversation about anything other than their situation. She had told him about how she felt about Morgana. How she missed her. Yet at the same time, felt betrayed because she fraternised with the enemy. But more than anything how she wished she would return.
He had promised her once that her job would be safe and he wasn’t going back on that now. Even with Morgana no longer in the castle he had made it his personal ask to make sure there was a post for her. With the death toll from the battle against the Dragon, it hadn’t been difficult to find her something. In reality she was the seamstress, best in Camelot, but with all the cleaning that needed doing, she was lending a hand.
He continued to watch her from a distance. Back and forth. Back and Forth. Circles. Side to side.
He started to feel slightly uncomfortable watching her after a while. All the strength and the movements she was making. As she leant forward and leaning onto her knees and leaning back again, sitting on her feet. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. Uneasy.
Approaching her now would be awkward. He would have to go another way; he could detour back to his room before going to dinner. He would need to detour somewhere; he couldn’t turn up to dinner with his father in his current state.
It would poise questions he wouldn’t want to answer.
There were times when Arthur wished that there was no status keeping in the way of them; maybe they would be wed by now. Then his current problem would be easily solved, and he wouldn’t feel quite so guilty about the urges he was having.
He turned on his heel and walked off at a great speed. He had to get away from there.
Gwen turned as she heard his retreating footsteps, she frowned, why had he not said anything? Maybe he hadn’t seen her. She sighed and turned her attention back to the floor. Her skirts would be filthy when she was done; adding more work to her job list that was already long enough and rapidly growing.
One day she wouldn’t have to think about dirty dresses and scrubbing floors. She hoped