salut all --
Sooooo sorry this has taken so long to get to you. It's quite long, which I didn't intend, but hope toi don't mind. I've truly had fun écriture this one. I wanted to montrer various aspects of Arthur/Gwen's relationship -- king/queen/mom/dad/husband/wife -- they are the whole of what I think l’amour should be. Hope that I was able to convey that in even a small amount. Hope toi enjoy reading!
Here are liens to précédant chapters:
Chapter 1: link
Chapter 2: link
Hugs, enjoy and I'd l’amour to hear what toi think! :)
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Chapter 3
Guinevere Pendragon entered the royal bedchamber and instantly knew two things.
One: her instincts had been correct. Her husband had indeed planned an ambush.
Two: she had been right to enlist Merlin's help. For without it, her cause was already lost.
The gently roaring fire, in and of itself would have not been out of the ordinary. Combined with the newly installed -- and as of yet -- unlit candles as well as the exotic fragrance in the air, it was a dead give away. What was glaringly absent, however, was the organizer of such a setting.
Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Chalking it up to an unexpected obligation of the royal kind, Gwen made her way across the room and advanced toward the bed, Lost in thought and grateful to have a few moments to steel herself against whatever Arthur had planned.
Unfortunately for Gwen, Arthur was well skilled in sneak attacks.
"The boys in bed?"
Startled, Gwen jumped and spun around so quickly she nearly bumped her nose against an exposed chest in the sea of white that filled her vision.
Her soft body, on the other hand, did not escape a full-on collision with hard muscles and radiating heat.
He was Just. That. Close.
Her breath caught and a wild blush rushed to her cheeks as her traitorous knees wobbled unsteadily. Even she knew it had nothing to do with his sudden appearance and everything to do with his proximity. Taking a step back, she tried to composer herself.
Try, being the operative word.
She took him in with one glance. White shirt. Tight breeches. Hands on hips in a casual, confident stance that on other men was appealing, but on Arthur Pendragon was downright lethal. Full, red lips tilted in a come-hither smile. And devilish blue eyes scanning every inch of her, lingering oh-so-obviously in the general vicinity of her ample -- and suddenly heaving -- bosom. That was, of course, before sliding up to her lips where they threatened to hover for a deliciously long time.
Ambush indeed.
"Arthur! toi startled me."
"Why? Were toi expecting someone else in our bedchamber?" Arthur inquired, eyes sparking with a wicked taunt, an amused smirk forming on his lips. Clearly, he was enjoying her discomfort a bit too much.
Gwen's eyes narrowed. "Yes, actually." Her chin rose defiantly before she spun back around and focused all her energy on placing a small vase of white and purple fleurs on the night stand with exact precision. It took plus than just a great effort to still the shaking of her hands and keep the breathlessness out of her voice. It took every ounce of willpower. "Where's Rachel?"
"I sent her home. After all..."
Heated fingers slid up her back and found their accueil at the apex of neck and exposed shoulder. A lone thumb trailed the short length from the haut, retour au début of her tunic to the base of her neck then wrapped itself in a tiny curl before languidly returning to its original path to repeat its original journey. Gwen's eyes drifted closed at the tingles shooting to parts of her body she couldn't even name. His warm breath at her ear sent a clump of curls into a riotous dance and a rebellious shiver down her spine. And the scent that was uniquely Arthur accosted her with the sweetest vengeance, making her dizzy and pleasantly out of sorts.
"...if I can't undress my own wife, what good am I?"
Oh, heavens. This is going to be so much harder than I imagined. He's barely touched me and I'm already all aquiver. One plus huskily-voiced suggestion like that and I'll be his for the taking. Is the spell even working? What was it Merlin told me to do? Think, Gwen, think. Oh, right. Silently repeat the phrase Merlin gave me. Even if it IS the furthest thing from the truth...
Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, concentrated really hard and looped the chant over and over in her mind.
Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly toad.
And just like that, renewed willpower flowed through her. The tingles were gone. Her knees were steady once more, and the shivers that threatened to take her over vanished like a vapor. When she turned to face Arthur a moment later, it was with a calm and unaffected air.
"What good, indeed." Gwen smiled up at Arthur, gave his chest a chaste pat then sidestepped him as if he were nothing plus than a stone cold pillar.
Arthur blinked rapidly, stunned. He could have sworn he'd felt her shiver. And there was no denying the blush coloring her mocha skin ou the sigh that escaped her when he whispered in her ear...
Taken back par her sudden change in demeanor, but still undeterred, Arthur relaxed into the bedpost, arms crossed over his chest, and settled in to admire the gentle sway of her hips as she glided toward the cabinet that held their bedding and nightly attire. That sight alone sent his temperature skyrocketing and his body into a state of sensory awareness. Arthur blew out a short, heavy breath and marveled at the wonder that was Guinevere. What that woman could do to him just par simply walking across the room...
He deliberately shifted his gaze upward and assessed the situation. If she was affected at all par his initial attempt to seduce, she was attempting not to montrer it. Which meant he had a challenge on his hands. Good. I so l’amour my Guinevere-inspired challenges.
He grinned mischievously. His suivant ploy should weaken that calm, sturdy resolve of hers.
It always did.
"You know what I was thinking today?"
"Hmm, what?"
"That it's about time for the people of Camelot to have a princess to faon, fawn over."
Gwen's hands paused momentarily in their task. Oh, he wouldn't use that, would he? Gwen rolled her eyes and bit back a chuckle. Yes. Yes, of course he would. He's done it before with great and repeated success. That shameless, darling little devil...
"Is that so?" Gwen inquired, keeping her voice light and attention averted. For expanding the Pendragon legacy with the addition of another child was one hope Guinevere had fervently shared with her husband for years. The disappointment of a few false alarms and one early miscarriage had done little to deter their desire ou willingness to valiantly try, try, and try again.
"It is quite so. I can even picture her." His voice grew dreamy and Gwen knew, without seeing, the look that was stealing over his expression. "Long, bouncing curls. Beautiful warm eyes. A smile that would brighten the jour of even the most wretched of men. And cute little freckles across her sweet little face. Just like her mum." His tone shifted from dream to reality. "You know she'd be Camelot's little angel."
"I'm sure she would." Gwen agreed as she replaced the robe she'd originally chosen to wear and decided instead to let the night play out in all of its planned unpredictability.
Like a hunter stalking his prey, Arthur pushed himself away from the bedpost and approached slowly, cautiously -- careful not to chase away the tender doe in his sights. "So..."
"So?"
"What do toi think?"
"I think..." Gwen closed the cabinet and turned to face him, a knowing smile on her lips. "...I know what you're doing."
"Well, if toi don't, then I'm doing something wrong." Arthur quipped, amused.
Gwen ignored his obviously suggestive tone and colombe headfirst into an entirely different reason altogether. "You think if I have a little girl to fuss over, our boys will be all yours to do with as you please."
"What?" Arthur feigned innocence. "That thought
didn't even..."
A dark eyebrow rose, halting his protest.
Arthur sighed and conceded without a fight. There was no point really. The woman knew him too well. "Alright, so maybe it did, but only once and very briefly." He tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and slowly drew her to him. That she let him was a small victory of sorts, even if she hadn't yet melted into his embrace. "So, what do toi say? Do toi want to make a princess with me?"
"You know the answer." Gwen softly conceded herself.
"And you know the means."
He was so shamelessly focused and downright obvious about it, she couldn't help the smile that curved her lips ou the coyness that slipped through her expression only to settle in her warm eyes. She didn't even try. After all, in the end, they both had the same goal. "Arthur Pendragon, are toi trying to seduce me?"
"If I say yes, will toi let me?"
"If I say no, what will toi do?"
"Let toi seduce me instead?" Arthur suggested, rather suggestively.
"That, Arthur, is a distinct possibility." Gwen promised. With
conditions. "But only once your reasoning for having a dit princess doesn't leave so much to be desired."
Arthur opened his mouth to counter, but Gwen had already danced out of his arms and across the room where she began to turn down the lit with the efficiency of her former profession. He noticed she'd taken no night dress out of the cupboard and smiled to himself.
Whatever was going on with her, whatever was keeping her from his arms, she didn't intend for it to last forever. ou even till the morning, for that matter. No, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Of that, he was sure. But something was keeping her stubbornly, adorably resistant.
Probably one of those famous lessons of hers. The ones he'd learned to spot coming at him from a thousand paces. They were rarely taught in words, and through the years he'd actually learned to anticipate and enjoy the machinations his beautiful wife put him through for the simplest of points. Only this time, things were playing out a bit differently. There must be something big waiting at the end of all this.
He weighed his options.
So far, he'd been directly subtle. And subtly direct. Now it was time to just lay his cards out on the table, tableau and see what hand she played in return.
"You know, it'll be rather difficult to give the kingdom a new heir if my wife won't allow me to touch her."
"Oh, I don't know. There are other ways." Gwen rejoined.
He chuckled through his surprise. "Oh, really? Please. Enlighten me."
"We could always take a stroll down to the lower town, pick up some orphaned waif and make her our own."
"The lower town."
"Uh-huh." She glanced up at him, noting his bewilderment. "What? toi did it once before and made her your queen. Look how that turned out."
Dense blue eyes narrowed with deliberate censure. "Hmmm, yes. I'm seeing that rather clearly right now."
Gwen sighed and tilted her head, assessing him. "Oh, now, Arthur, don't pout so." A corresponding pout formed on her own lips, but only to keep herself from bursting into laughter.
He did look rather pitiful with his lips pursed in disgruntled injury. So like their boys when they didn't get their way and were about to commence a royal fit. Stubborn, petulant -- and adorably so. Since the spell would soon break and she had every intention of fulfilling his every desire when it did, it wouldn't hurt to throw him a bone. However small it may be.
"You know very well toi always get what toi want in the end."
"Yes, but for some reason toi are thwarting my wants. toi have been all day." Arthur accused lightly before releasing a dramatic sigh. His shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, well. toi leave me no choice. It's to work then."
Every good military strategist knows when to advance and when to retreat. And Arthur was a brilliant strategist. Now, with her holding what seemed like the upper hand, was the perfect time to withdraw and feign his own disinterest. To wait out his enemy, so to speak. At least until she breached the walls and ventured into his territory. ou initiated an ambush of her own. A part of Arthur secretly hoped she would. Because after all, watching Guinevere work her feminine wiles on him was always such a delight.
Arthur retreated to his bureau where he sat, opened a book of unattended papers and began to sift through them with what appeared to be the most intense interest.
Gwen bit her lower lip as she silently watched him, regret and disappointment pouring through her. She hadn't expected him to give up so easily. Not after having gone to so much trouble to set a romantic stage, and especially not after an entire jour of forced abstinence. And she certainly hadn't intended to injure ou slight. She merely had a matter of great importance to discuss and feared his charms would chase the thoughts right out of her head. donné her body's involuntary reaction to him before he'd barely touched her, her fears had been well-founded.
But now, it was time to advance her cause.
So she could willingly surrender to his.
She moved to her night stand, pulled out two scrolls and turned back to Arthur, who was still silently Lost in paperwork. Approaching his bureau with a slow, determined step, Gwen paused then cleared her throat to gain his attention.
He pretended not to hear.
Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Arthur? May we speak?"
"That depends." Arthur answered without so much as a glance in her direction.
"On?"
"With whom shall I be speaking?" He signed his name with a flourish to an innocuous document he'd barely read. "My strong, rational wife that sends me off to battle with a Kiss and a Rebelle smile?" He pulled out the suivant order of business and pretended to peruse its contents. "Or the wife that occasionally chucks all sense and reason into a barrel..." He paused to sign his name. And for emphasis. "...and sends it careening off a cliff?" He glanced up at her then with a rakish grin.
She managed to keep a smile in check. Barely. "Does it really matter?"
"No. But I like to be prepared."
"Well, in that case....maybe a little of both."
"Well, in that case..." Arthur deliberately laid down his quill, leaned back in his chair and gave her his full attention. "...I'm listening."
Gwen squared her shoulders as if preparing for battle, took a deep breath and began. "After the events of this morning, I had an occasion to think. If toi insist on continuing with the boys' training, then I, in turn, must insist that toi meet a few demands."
Ah. He should have known. This was all about the boys. As was usually the case when an adorable Guinevere took adorable leave of her senses. Not quite the tact he'd expected she would take. Then again, she always was surprising him and this had already proven to be quite entertaining. He prepared himself for plus of the same.
A golden eyebrow rose in surprise. "Demands? This must be serious."
It was not her right to make the request ou her power to carry out any and every wish that fluttered into her beautiful head that Arthur questioned. It was her choice in letting him know she held the power to do so.
"It is."
"Alright then. Let's hear them."
"I've written them down." Gwen countered as she held out proof of her words.
"Oh, my. This is serious." Arthur quipped as he stared at the proffered parchment. He reached across the distance and took her demands in hand, opened the missive and began a silent reading. At each point, his eyebrow seemed to disappear further into his hair. "You want me to strap the boys to the chevaux so they can't fall off, jousting is to be done with leather lances and the mace shan't be attempted until they are at least fifteen?" Arthur couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. Though, for the record, he did try. "Guinevere, toi realize we can't do this."
"I do indeed." Gwen conceded quickly and reassuringly. "Which is why I also wanted to give toi this."
She offered him a seconde scroll.
"And this is?"
"My compromise with myself."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. His gaze, first focused on this 'compromise' as she called it, shifted to her, full of sudden suspicion. "Tell me." Rising from his seat, Arthur came around to where Gwen was standing and placed himself between her and the desk, then leaned back. "Did toi come up with all of this before ou after toi watched the boys train today?"
Her surprise was evident. "What? But, how did you..."
Blue eyes laughed down at her. "Guinevere, really. For years now, it has been a great pleasure of mine to watch you. There isn't a wave of your dainty hand..." A hand he slowly, deliberately gathered in his. "...a turn of your beautiful head..." Gently pushing himself away from the desk, he reached out and ran a lone finger down the side of her face before playfully caressing her chin. "...or a delicate footstep..." A sudden déplacer pulled her to him. An arm slipped around her waist anchoring her in place. "...that I couldn't recognize from a thousand paces." He took a moment to scan her face, his intense gaze landing on her lips then snapping upward to meet her suddenly dazed gaze with a pointed message. "With my eyes closed."
Gwen swallowed hard and felt the blood rush once plus to her cheeks. That tingle was back in full force and she was finding it increasingly hard to breath. When she spoke, a tell-tale tremor vibrated through her words. "Is...that...so?"
"Hmmm...very." His confirming whisper was like a warm, gentle breeze against her skin.
Arthur thrilled to the way her body trembled in his arms. How her gaze shifted with focused intensity to his lips. How shallow her breathing had become. He knew all too well the signs of his wife's descent into surrender. That it taken so little effort on his part was testament that he'd not been the only one to suffer through the temptations of the day.
Without thought ou will, Gwen gravitated toward him. Her hands slid up his torso with slowly seductive intent and châtaigne, châtaignier eyes grew almost black with desire as they latched on to a pair of lips hovering so close to hers. She wanted to Kiss him so badly it hurt. Actually, physically hurt. Why, why, why must he always be so...irresistible? And why had she chosen this night of all nights to do just that? A moment of decision was at hand -- either pursue her motherly crusade ou offer a wifely surrender without a fight. Her husband's cœur, coeur thundered beneath her hand. Her son's faces wavered before her...
Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly...
Her gaze slipped upward to meet his. The stormy desire waiting for her in those placid, blue depths broke all resistance.
Oh, blast it all. Spells be damned.
She tilted her head upward and leaned closer, her lips parting in invitation...
Then, like a flame cruelly snuffed out, Arthur shrugged, dropped her hand and sidestepped her, much as she'd done him earlier. The shift came so quickly, Gwen nearly Lost her balance and had to use the bureau for support. Arthur continued speaking, seemingly oblivious to the effect he'd had on her. "Besides, your bright red manteau was a dead give away. I could see toi coming before toi came out of the servant's entrance."
"Oh."
And for the life of her, Gwen couldn't tell if that 'oh' was a direct result of having been discovered so easily ou an intense disappointment that his lips were no longer within reach. ou both. If the pounding of her cœur, coeur and the intense ache inside of her was any indication...
Biting back a grin, a devious Arthur moved to a side table, tableau where a pitcher of water was always present. As much as he wanted her...and he did want her...a little payback was only fair. After all, that was only a small taste of what he'd had to endure all day. He poured himself a mug and let his chuckle get Lost in a deep gulp of water. Oh. So. Very. Close. Just a little bit longer and she would be a pliable mass of flesh ready and willing to be molded to his every desire. Like clay in the hand of a master potter.
"If it means anything, I am glad toi came. Though why toi bothered, I'll never know." Arthur continued as if nothing were amiss.
It took a moment longer than usual for his words to penetrate the fog surrounding her brain, but when they did, Gwen bristled and turned to face him. "And what do toi mean par that?"
She caught him in mid-swig. "Hmm, well..." Arthur swallowed then explained. "....you spent all of your time hidden, most of which toi had your hands over your eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth. I distinctly recall a moment when I actually prayed..." He cast his eyes upward in attitude of supplication. "'...dear God, don't let her bite it off'."
"And why would that be of concern?"
"Wellll..." Arthur took another drink of water, set the mug down with deliberate exactness then retraced his steps back to her, his now moist lips tilting in that familiarly sensual way of his. "...last I checked, lips were required for s’embrasser and there is a small matter..." He pulled her back into the cercle of his arms. "...of one that toi owe me. toi know, for bringing your boys accueil to you... unscathed."
One look in his laughing eyes and Gwen had his number. Little devil, indeed.. .
He was enjoying himself. Immensely. Playing with her. Teasing her. Winding her up, letting her teeter on a dangerous edge, pulling her back to relative safety...then winding her up again. Well, two could play at that game. It was a good thing she'd had the foresight to slip a little something in her seconde set of demands that should properly wind him up.
She was tempted to utter the magic phrase once more. Tempted, but not yielding. After all, the hope of wiping that knowing arrogance from his lips was proving to be plus potent than any magic spell could ever be in fortifying her resistance.
"All that is owed will be paid in due time, my luv. All in due time." There was a double-edged promise to those words and a daring glint in Gwen's eyes. Though it was increasingly difficult, she pushed herself out of his embrace. This time, she didn't go far. After all, there was a small matter that still needed to be addressed and once it was...
Gwen pressed the as-yet-unopened scroll to his chest, her eyes flicking downward. "My compromise."
Amused, Arthur took the document, cleared his throat, unrolled the scroll with a comically exaggerated flourish and began to read.
A moment of silence hung in the room.
"Now these..." Arthur pursed his lips and bobbed his head from side to side in silent agreement to the terms that met his gaze. "...these are demands I can live by."
"Can toi really?"
"Of course. I don't want our boys vying against each other for power ou position any plus than toi do. I remember too well the betrayal of family." Arthur commenté evenly. "As for the rest, these are all very reasonable requests."
A genuinely relieved Gwen beamed and bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. "I am so very glad we are agreed. I was worried that toi might think them too frivolous and I..."
Arthur's brows knit in consternation.
"Hang on a moment here."
Oh. He must have reached that part. With hands locked behind her back, Gwen unconsciously, nervously twisted back and forth as she innocently hummed. "Hmmm?"
"What's this about a training schedule?" As he quickly scanned further, Arthur's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief. "Oh, toi can't be serious. Guinevere, really."
His gaze met hers.
"What? If toi are determined to put a sword in their hands, I am equally determined to put a broom."
"Guin-e-vere..."
"I will not have my boys growing up like spoiled little prats, Arthur Pendragon. And don't toi dare give me that look. toi know exactly what I'm talking about." A finger raised in chastisement dropped to poke him lightly in the chest for emphasis. Gwen had clearly prepared for this battle as she stepped into the arena, already swinging. "I want them to know how to cook for themselves, mend their own weapons, sew their own buttons if need be. I know they have servants and I know it's unconventional, but toi and I, Arthur, are an unconventional king and queen. Our boys are the product of that and should be our testament to the realm. Both yours and mine."
Barely taking a breath, Gwen continued. "And when it comes their time, it is only right that they rule knowing what their decisions will do to their people. Having them spend some time in the lower town learning common men's trades will not only expand their experiences and resourcefulness, but it will make them better leaders. It will make them better men. They need to understand and appreciate the hard work that goes into maintaining a kingdom as much as they need to know how to negotiate a peace treaty ou balançoire, swing a sword. And if toi have a problem with that, Arthur, then we have a problem."
Arthur chuckled, his eyes dancing with admiration, as he placed reassuring hands on her shoulders. "Guinevere..." His pride in the passion and common sense of his wife was something Arthur always felt but could rarely express. Now was no different. Though he certainly did try. "...my fierce and noble queen, toi can withdraw from the field of battle with honor. I agree with all that you've said."
Gwen blinked at that.
"You do."
"Without question."
Confusion crumbled her expression. "Then I don't understand. What is your objection?"
"You're going to teach them to woo?" His pointed look was as much question as it was accusation.
"Oh. That."
"Yes. That."
Gwen shrugged off his inquiry with a wave of her hand. "Well, I don't intend on teaching them right away, of course. They're just little boys. But it's never too early to instill in them the proper respect that every lady deserves. It is, after all, half the battle in winning a lady's heart."
"That, Guinevere, is not the issue."
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Gwen placed impatient hands on her shapely hips. "Then what is?"
"You will be teaching them instead of me because..."
It started as a smile that turned into a grin that flourished into a chuckle then outright laughter filling the room. "Oh, Arthur. That's so sweet that toi think toi could."
Feeling plus than a bit insulted par her reaction, instant irritation flushed blood red on Arthur's face. "I beg your pardon. There was nothing 'sweet' about that and did I not win you?"
Gwen struggled to contain herself. Precisely what she expected. She could always count on the male ego layered with that Pendragon pride to deliver to her an Arthur primed for gentle manipulation. "Yes. But that was in spite of yourself." Another giggle escaped. Then another as Gwen lovingly patted him on the chest and shook her head with an amused sigh. "Oh, Arthur. toi are such a dear dollop-head sometimes."
Taking the parchment from him, she grinned, turned toward his bureau and began to close up boutique for the day. Now that she'd gained her husband's tacit approval on the plan to shape their sons' future, she was beyond ready to put her own secret plans in action.
"But...how can you...I...how..."
"Remember destiny and chicken?" Gwen tossed over her shoulder. Though that issue had been settled long ago, Gwen couldn't help the tightness of her tone. Perhaps because the lady in question still professed first official claim to Arthur's heart. "I do. Lady Vivian never fails to remind me when she visits. Which is precisely why we keep those to once every other an and hide every chicken in Camelot when she does."
"I was not responsible for that! I was enchanted!"
"Yes, to l’amour her. Your method of wooing, however, was all on you." Having tidied his desk, Gwen turned to face him. Noting his exasperation, her expression softened with sympathy. She approached him, gathered his face in her hands and sought to soothe and cajole. "Awww, don't get me wrong, luv." With a twist. "I'm glad toi failed."
"Gwen, honestly." Ego now thoroughly bruised, Arthur defiantly removed her hands from his face, took a step back and struck the pose of a man having been falsely accused and ready to answer each charge in earnest. Hands on hips. Shoulders squared. Lips full and pursed with serious intent. "I know just as much about wooing a woman as any man."
"And that, Arthur, is the problem." Gwen answered, continuing to push buttons -- and Arthur -- in the direction she desperately wanted him to go. "Face it, dear, toi have never been one for grand, romantic gestures like a...a bard chant my praises ou poésie written par your own hand."
"Perhaps not." As expected, Arthur took up the challenge she'd subtly leveled without hesitation. Hard muscles flexed unconsciously beneath the white shirt, relaxed and flexed again. His jaw tightened stubbornly and his eyes snapped with raw determination. He was focused. Intense. Commanding. The very picture of a conqueror greedily eyeing his conquest just moments before he release the battle cry and claimed the spoils of his raid. "But let me tell toi something, Guinevere Pendragon, I know the only thing any man needs to."
"Oh?" Gwen's cœur, coeur triple-hammered in her chest as she secretly thrilled to the thought of her man proving just that. "And what is that?"
"What his lady wants."
Four words.
Just. Four. Words.
In a tone that brokered no argument. No resistance. No defeat.
And Guinevere Pendragon's victory was in sight.
"And what, pray tell, does your lady want?"
Her coy smile was not Lost on Arthur. Nor was the flirtatious sweep of her gaze as she took him in, head to toe then back again. Pausing to admire, lingering provocatively. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth in a sure sign of desire.Oh. Ohhh. Oh, that darling little minx. She just ambushed me and I fell for it. Well. Nicely played, Guinevere Pendragon. And now...turn about is fair play...
Arthur Lost no time answering his lady's unspoken request. A golden eyebrow rose. "First of all...ambiance.”
With a snap of Arthur's fingers, the unlit candles spread throughout the room flared to life.
Gwen gasped in surprise and delight as she gazed around her. “Arthur, how did you...” She let the thought dangle, then answered her own question. “Merlin.”
“No. Magic. Ours, to be exact.” Arthur corrected cryptically. He held his hand out to her. "Does my lady like it?”
A sly smile curved Gwen's lips as her gaze focus a moment on his silent invitation before slipping upward to meet his steady, hungry gaze. She bit back a trembling sigh as a delicate hand slipped into his with deliberate, taunting slowness. “Indeed, she does."
His fingers closed over hers. There was a pause pregnant with tantalizing possibilities as they stared at each other. Desire. Longing. Need. The slow feu building between them sparked and blazed and threatened to consume. Intense. Raw. Palpable. And just when Gwen thought she would explode from the anticipation of Arthur's suivant move, he spoke.
"Then perhaps...she would also like..." Then in one smooth, lightening-quick move, Arthur unexpectedly spun her around and pulled her hard against him, back to chest. The low, predatory rumble in her ear was in direct contrast to the implied submission of his chosen word. "...a confession."
The room grew unearthly still. And hellishly hot. And there was simply no air left to breathe.
Oh, sweet heaven above, this is going to be delicious. Trembling from Arthur's maneuver and cœur, coeur thudding so loudly in her ears she could barely make out her own words, Gwen urged him on. "A...confession?" Gwen swallowed hard, her breath was now coming in short, erratic pants. A tongue darted out to wet suddenly parched lips. "And umm...what...what wicked deed have toi done today?"
"None. Yet." That one gently clipped word held plus promise than even Gwen had anticipated. Her eyes drifted closed as she sank into him, letting her soft curves mold into the hard lines of his body. She felt everything. The cœur, coeur thundering against her back. Each flex of his muscles. Every breath. The low rumble of his voice in her ear vibrated through her, setting off intense sparks and making her insides tremble unmercifully. "But I do confess to learning my lesson."
"Lesson?"
A shiver chased down her spine when Arthur dropped a Kiss on her shoulder. Then another. And another. Like raindrops of fire. The heat of them soaked into her skin and spread rapidly to the most delightfully intimate places. His provocative assault continued in her other ear as he nuzzled her neck first, then her hair, breathing her in and exhaling a unique mixture of deep satisfaction and pure desire. Gwen tilted her head to give him ample access as her fingers found the side of his face, lingered a moment for a loving caress then slid upward, getting Lost in his silky hair.
"Mmmm, yes. The one you've been trying so very hard to teach me all day."
"Which is?"
"That I can spend days and nights away from toi and return a tortured man." His hands moved from her waist and began to wander with purpose. "But being so close, having toi in the same room, within reach and not be able to touch you...well, now..." Fingers dancing along her too sensitive ribcage and ghosting toward a favori destination, Arthur trailed slow, hot kisses from shoulder to neck then nipped at Gwen's earlobe before finishing his thought. "...that's a special kind of hell on earth."
"Nicely...." Gwen struggled to speak, offering instead a prolonged sigh of pleasure in response to his determinedly roaming hands. "...put."
"Nicely taught." She felt the smile in his voice as it caressed her skin. "But here endeth the lesson. Agreed?"
"Mmm-hmm..." Gwen purred her answer, a clear indication that what she was agreeing to mattered little as long as his hands continued to work their magic.
"There's just one, slight problem." Arthur intoned his disappointment.
"Oh? And what is that?" Fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, Gwen's lips tilted in an amused smile. Her husband was up to something plus than the obvious. She'd know that tone anywhere.
"There are entirely too many layers of material between us."
And there it is. We are now back at the beginning. He really is shamelessly obvious tonight.
There'd been no doubt he would gain her ultimate agreement. Not even the first time he'd suggested it. But there was something in the unspoken asking that hinted at a deeper need. That called to something fundamental between them. The equality of their union. The honor of their covenant. The inherently gentle ebb and flow of their love. And his profound desire to be donné what he could easily take.
She readily, eagerly complied.
"Well..." Hands dropping to cover his, she moved them to the laces on her tunic before voicing her solution to their problem. Just in case her non-verbal suggestion was unclear. "...you did say something about undressing your wife..."
"Indeed." There was a satisfied smile in his voice. "Another confession?" Arthur offered before sending another shiver through her entire body. "I've been dying to do this...all day."
"And I, with you."
Gwen's answer gained her a gentle Kiss on her cheek. "Then let us die no longer."
For the suivant few moments, neither of them spoke. Neither of them breathed.
Arthur made quick work of the laces of Gwen's outer tunic then discarded the pins keeping her hair in place with irreverent haste. It was then he paused. He relished. He breathed her in. His hands slowly colombe into her thick tresses, gently jostling them free from their constraints until a riot of waves cascaded down Gwen's back. His hands followed in seductive pursuit as they slipped between the sheer dentelle and heavy linen of her inner and outer tunic before journeying back up over her shoulders, down her arms, his determined fingers hooking the material and taking her outer tunic with them.
As her dress fell to the floor with gentle thud, Arthur's hands slipped downward to her tiny waist then lower to her shapely hips. A gentle nudge indicated his wishes. "And now, Guinevere..."
Complying, she turned and arched her neck to fully look into his face. One hand slipped through his hair sending heated chills vibrating through his body as her other hand instinctively found its way to cover his rapidly beating heart. There was no doubting the desire that flared in her eyes as she looked at him coyly then melted into him, leaving not even a breath to spare between them.
"Yes?"
Her warm breath blew against the exposed skin and Arthur immediately felt the impact in the Chair de poule that spread over his flesh. He pressed his hand into the small of her back making her contact with his hardness plus pronounced as his eyes locked with hers in an intimate promise. As his gaze drifted downward to place a blazing caress over the fullness of her lips, her tongue unconsciously snuck out in response, moistening the focus of his desire. "...I am a starving man."
"I'm quite famished myself." Gwen responded breathlessly.
"Perhaps, then, we should..."
Gwen stopped him with a finger to his lips. "Less talk, luv."
A smile spread beneath her touch as an knowing eyebrow lifted. "More action?"
"Mmm-hmmm." Gwen's lips tilted in eager acquiescence.
"What my lady wants..." Eyes locked, Arthur's lips hovered teasingly over hers. "...my lady gets..."
The Kiss was not at all unexpected, nor was the explosive intensity of it.
Arthur’s velvety lips slid over Gwen’s in perfect rhythm contradicting the erratic beating of their hearts as his fingers Raiponce in her silky hair then slipped vers l'avant, vers l’avant to grasp her jaw pulling her plus deeply into him. A wave of dizziness shook them both to their core as Arthur sucked her bottom lip provocatively eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from deep inside Gwen. Gwen's tongue traced Arthur's lips teasingly, urging his openness, a silent request he readily complied to. Passion ignited like a burst of flame that threatened to consume as tongues and lips met hungrily. Caressing, exploring, stroking…becoming reacquainted with well-known territory as if they'd been separated for years instead of mere hours.
That's when the unexpected happened. Guinevere felt ill. Positively, physically, stomach-churningly ill. She pulled out of Arthur's arms, spun away and covered her mouth in an effort not to gag. His hands were at her back instantly and she felt another lurch coming. His presence engulfed her and she gagged again. She quickly surmised the reason. "Oh, no. No, no, no, not now."
Arthur was instantly alarmed. "Guinevere, what's wrong?"
Hand on her stomach, she swallowed back the bile that had risen so quickly and began to frantically fan herself. "How long has it been since I came in the room?"
"I don't know. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe."
Turning her toward him, Arthur dipped his head to gain her attention. His hands were on her face and the confusion and concern in his eyes made her regret having ever approached Merlin for help. She was going to maim that little magician the suivant time she saw him...
"Gwen, what is it?"
Biting her lower lip, Gwen's mortified gaze met his. "Oh, Arthur, I've done something rather silly."
"That seems to be the norm today." Arthur quipped as relief washed over him at her words. Silly he could handle. "What did toi do?"
"I asked Merlin to spell me so I could..." She paused and swallowed hard. "...well, resist you."
"Resist me?"
Gwen's head bobbed in confirmation. Her averted gaze and fluttering hands were an outward indication of her inward angst. "After today I figured you'd plan some grand gesture to coax me into bed. And after watching toi train today, I so, sooo wanted to be coaxed but..."
"You had to make your point about the boys first. I see." Arthur quickly surmised, his mind racing through the events of the evening, putting two and two together. Suddenly, things made a bit plus sense. His gaze slid to her discomfited expression. He wanted so badly to laugh at her antics, but she looked so miserable and mortified standing there, he simply didn't have the heart.
Now.
Later perhaps...
"And I take it a side effect of this spell is the urge to lose your dîner if we kiss."
"It appears so."
"Well, if there's one thing I've learned from Merlin in all these years, it is that every spell can be broken." He paused, Lost in thought. "Was there a time on the spell ou was I to be tortured indefinitely?"
"I never intended to torture and I only asked for twenty minutes." A pretty pout formed on a now-humbled Gwen's lips.
"Twenty minutes." Pursed lips, a curt nod of his head and hands on his hips, a determined Arthur was not to be deterred. "Well, then. That gives us five to sit here and stare at each other or..."
"Or?"
Her gaze snapped upward to meet his, hope sparking like a freshly ignited flame.
"Five to prove me right." Arthur held his hand out to her, a challenging eyebrow raised and a predatory smile touching his lips. "That is, of course, if toi dare risk it."
Gwen's smile returned in full force as she
slipped her hand into his and let him pull her back accueil into the cercle of his arms. Her hands drifted to his face in a gentle, loving caress. "For one of your kisses, Arthur Pendragon, I would risk the world."
This time the Kiss was achingly slow and tantalizingly sweet.
So sweet it made her cœur, coeur weep. So slow, she felt as if she were being savored. Worshipped. Torn apart bit par delicious bit. She sighed her immense approval. And that sigh turned into a moan. The moan into a plea. The plea into a demand...
And with two minutes to go, the spell was broken.
But for the rest of the night, the magic still remained.
tbc....
Sooooo sorry this has taken so long to get to you. It's quite long, which I didn't intend, but hope toi don't mind. I've truly had fun écriture this one. I wanted to montrer various aspects of Arthur/Gwen's relationship -- king/queen/mom/dad/husband/wife -- they are the whole of what I think l’amour should be. Hope that I was able to convey that in even a small amount. Hope toi enjoy reading!
Here are liens to précédant chapters:
Chapter 1: link
Chapter 2: link
Hugs, enjoy and I'd l’amour to hear what toi think! :)
------------------------
Chapter 3
Guinevere Pendragon entered the royal bedchamber and instantly knew two things.
One: her instincts had been correct. Her husband had indeed planned an ambush.
Two: she had been right to enlist Merlin's help. For without it, her cause was already lost.
The gently roaring fire, in and of itself would have not been out of the ordinary. Combined with the newly installed -- and as of yet -- unlit candles as well as the exotic fragrance in the air, it was a dead give away. What was glaringly absent, however, was the organizer of such a setting.
Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Chalking it up to an unexpected obligation of the royal kind, Gwen made her way across the room and advanced toward the bed, Lost in thought and grateful to have a few moments to steel herself against whatever Arthur had planned.
Unfortunately for Gwen, Arthur was well skilled in sneak attacks.
"The boys in bed?"
Startled, Gwen jumped and spun around so quickly she nearly bumped her nose against an exposed chest in the sea of white that filled her vision.
Her soft body, on the other hand, did not escape a full-on collision with hard muscles and radiating heat.
He was Just. That. Close.
Her breath caught and a wild blush rushed to her cheeks as her traitorous knees wobbled unsteadily. Even she knew it had nothing to do with his sudden appearance and everything to do with his proximity. Taking a step back, she tried to composer herself.
Try, being the operative word.
She took him in with one glance. White shirt. Tight breeches. Hands on hips in a casual, confident stance that on other men was appealing, but on Arthur Pendragon was downright lethal. Full, red lips tilted in a come-hither smile. And devilish blue eyes scanning every inch of her, lingering oh-so-obviously in the general vicinity of her ample -- and suddenly heaving -- bosom. That was, of course, before sliding up to her lips where they threatened to hover for a deliciously long time.
Ambush indeed.
"Arthur! toi startled me."
"Why? Were toi expecting someone else in our bedchamber?" Arthur inquired, eyes sparking with a wicked taunt, an amused smirk forming on his lips. Clearly, he was enjoying her discomfort a bit too much.
Gwen's eyes narrowed. "Yes, actually." Her chin rose defiantly before she spun back around and focused all her energy on placing a small vase of white and purple fleurs on the night stand with exact precision. It took plus than just a great effort to still the shaking of her hands and keep the breathlessness out of her voice. It took every ounce of willpower. "Where's Rachel?"
"I sent her home. After all..."
Heated fingers slid up her back and found their accueil at the apex of neck and exposed shoulder. A lone thumb trailed the short length from the haut, retour au début of her tunic to the base of her neck then wrapped itself in a tiny curl before languidly returning to its original path to repeat its original journey. Gwen's eyes drifted closed at the tingles shooting to parts of her body she couldn't even name. His warm breath at her ear sent a clump of curls into a riotous dance and a rebellious shiver down her spine. And the scent that was uniquely Arthur accosted her with the sweetest vengeance, making her dizzy and pleasantly out of sorts.
"...if I can't undress my own wife, what good am I?"
Oh, heavens. This is going to be so much harder than I imagined. He's barely touched me and I'm already all aquiver. One plus huskily-voiced suggestion like that and I'll be his for the taking. Is the spell even working? What was it Merlin told me to do? Think, Gwen, think. Oh, right. Silently repeat the phrase Merlin gave me. Even if it IS the furthest thing from the truth...
Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, concentrated really hard and looped the chant over and over in her mind.
Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly toad.
And just like that, renewed willpower flowed through her. The tingles were gone. Her knees were steady once more, and the shivers that threatened to take her over vanished like a vapor. When she turned to face Arthur a moment later, it was with a calm and unaffected air.
"What good, indeed." Gwen smiled up at Arthur, gave his chest a chaste pat then sidestepped him as if he were nothing plus than a stone cold pillar.
Arthur blinked rapidly, stunned. He could have sworn he'd felt her shiver. And there was no denying the blush coloring her mocha skin ou the sigh that escaped her when he whispered in her ear...
Taken back par her sudden change in demeanor, but still undeterred, Arthur relaxed into the bedpost, arms crossed over his chest, and settled in to admire the gentle sway of her hips as she glided toward the cabinet that held their bedding and nightly attire. That sight alone sent his temperature skyrocketing and his body into a state of sensory awareness. Arthur blew out a short, heavy breath and marveled at the wonder that was Guinevere. What that woman could do to him just par simply walking across the room...
He deliberately shifted his gaze upward and assessed the situation. If she was affected at all par his initial attempt to seduce, she was attempting not to montrer it. Which meant he had a challenge on his hands. Good. I so l’amour my Guinevere-inspired challenges.
He grinned mischievously. His suivant ploy should weaken that calm, sturdy resolve of hers.
It always did.
"You know what I was thinking today?"
"Hmm, what?"
"That it's about time for the people of Camelot to have a princess to faon, fawn over."
Gwen's hands paused momentarily in their task. Oh, he wouldn't use that, would he? Gwen rolled her eyes and bit back a chuckle. Yes. Yes, of course he would. He's done it before with great and repeated success. That shameless, darling little devil...
"Is that so?" Gwen inquired, keeping her voice light and attention averted. For expanding the Pendragon legacy with the addition of another child was one hope Guinevere had fervently shared with her husband for years. The disappointment of a few false alarms and one early miscarriage had done little to deter their desire ou willingness to valiantly try, try, and try again.
"It is quite so. I can even picture her." His voice grew dreamy and Gwen knew, without seeing, the look that was stealing over his expression. "Long, bouncing curls. Beautiful warm eyes. A smile that would brighten the jour of even the most wretched of men. And cute little freckles across her sweet little face. Just like her mum." His tone shifted from dream to reality. "You know she'd be Camelot's little angel."
"I'm sure she would." Gwen agreed as she replaced the robe she'd originally chosen to wear and decided instead to let the night play out in all of its planned unpredictability.
Like a hunter stalking his prey, Arthur pushed himself away from the bedpost and approached slowly, cautiously -- careful not to chase away the tender doe in his sights. "So..."
"So?"
"What do toi think?"
"I think..." Gwen closed the cabinet and turned to face him, a knowing smile on her lips. "...I know what you're doing."
"Well, if toi don't, then I'm doing something wrong." Arthur quipped, amused.
Gwen ignored his obviously suggestive tone and colombe headfirst into an entirely different reason altogether. "You think if I have a little girl to fuss over, our boys will be all yours to do with as you please."
"What?" Arthur feigned innocence. "That thought
didn't even..."
A dark eyebrow rose, halting his protest.
Arthur sighed and conceded without a fight. There was no point really. The woman knew him too well. "Alright, so maybe it did, but only once and very briefly." He tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and slowly drew her to him. That she let him was a small victory of sorts, even if she hadn't yet melted into his embrace. "So, what do toi say? Do toi want to make a princess with me?"
"You know the answer." Gwen softly conceded herself.
"And you know the means."
He was so shamelessly focused and downright obvious about it, she couldn't help the smile that curved her lips ou the coyness that slipped through her expression only to settle in her warm eyes. She didn't even try. After all, in the end, they both had the same goal. "Arthur Pendragon, are toi trying to seduce me?"
"If I say yes, will toi let me?"
"If I say no, what will toi do?"
"Let toi seduce me instead?" Arthur suggested, rather suggestively.
"That, Arthur, is a distinct possibility." Gwen promised. With
conditions. "But only once your reasoning for having a dit princess doesn't leave so much to be desired."
Arthur opened his mouth to counter, but Gwen had already danced out of his arms and across the room where she began to turn down the lit with the efficiency of her former profession. He noticed she'd taken no night dress out of the cupboard and smiled to himself.
Whatever was going on with her, whatever was keeping her from his arms, she didn't intend for it to last forever. ou even till the morning, for that matter. No, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Of that, he was sure. But something was keeping her stubbornly, adorably resistant.
Probably one of those famous lessons of hers. The ones he'd learned to spot coming at him from a thousand paces. They were rarely taught in words, and through the years he'd actually learned to anticipate and enjoy the machinations his beautiful wife put him through for the simplest of points. Only this time, things were playing out a bit differently. There must be something big waiting at the end of all this.
He weighed his options.
So far, he'd been directly subtle. And subtly direct. Now it was time to just lay his cards out on the table, tableau and see what hand she played in return.
"You know, it'll be rather difficult to give the kingdom a new heir if my wife won't allow me to touch her."
"Oh, I don't know. There are other ways." Gwen rejoined.
He chuckled through his surprise. "Oh, really? Please. Enlighten me."
"We could always take a stroll down to the lower town, pick up some orphaned waif and make her our own."
"The lower town."
"Uh-huh." She glanced up at him, noting his bewilderment. "What? toi did it once before and made her your queen. Look how that turned out."
Dense blue eyes narrowed with deliberate censure. "Hmmm, yes. I'm seeing that rather clearly right now."
Gwen sighed and tilted her head, assessing him. "Oh, now, Arthur, don't pout so." A corresponding pout formed on her own lips, but only to keep herself from bursting into laughter.
He did look rather pitiful with his lips pursed in disgruntled injury. So like their boys when they didn't get their way and were about to commence a royal fit. Stubborn, petulant -- and adorably so. Since the spell would soon break and she had every intention of fulfilling his every desire when it did, it wouldn't hurt to throw him a bone. However small it may be.
"You know very well toi always get what toi want in the end."
"Yes, but for some reason toi are thwarting my wants. toi have been all day." Arthur accused lightly before releasing a dramatic sigh. His shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, well. toi leave me no choice. It's to work then."
Every good military strategist knows when to advance and when to retreat. And Arthur was a brilliant strategist. Now, with her holding what seemed like the upper hand, was the perfect time to withdraw and feign his own disinterest. To wait out his enemy, so to speak. At least until she breached the walls and ventured into his territory. ou initiated an ambush of her own. A part of Arthur secretly hoped she would. Because after all, watching Guinevere work her feminine wiles on him was always such a delight.
Arthur retreated to his bureau where he sat, opened a book of unattended papers and began to sift through them with what appeared to be the most intense interest.
Gwen bit her lower lip as she silently watched him, regret and disappointment pouring through her. She hadn't expected him to give up so easily. Not after having gone to so much trouble to set a romantic stage, and especially not after an entire jour of forced abstinence. And she certainly hadn't intended to injure ou slight. She merely had a matter of great importance to discuss and feared his charms would chase the thoughts right out of her head. donné her body's involuntary reaction to him before he'd barely touched her, her fears had been well-founded.
But now, it was time to advance her cause.
So she could willingly surrender to his.
She moved to her night stand, pulled out two scrolls and turned back to Arthur, who was still silently Lost in paperwork. Approaching his bureau with a slow, determined step, Gwen paused then cleared her throat to gain his attention.
He pretended not to hear.
Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Arthur? May we speak?"
"That depends." Arthur answered without so much as a glance in her direction.
"On?"
"With whom shall I be speaking?" He signed his name with a flourish to an innocuous document he'd barely read. "My strong, rational wife that sends me off to battle with a Kiss and a Rebelle smile?" He pulled out the suivant order of business and pretended to peruse its contents. "Or the wife that occasionally chucks all sense and reason into a barrel..." He paused to sign his name. And for emphasis. "...and sends it careening off a cliff?" He glanced up at her then with a rakish grin.
She managed to keep a smile in check. Barely. "Does it really matter?"
"No. But I like to be prepared."
"Well, in that case....maybe a little of both."
"Well, in that case..." Arthur deliberately laid down his quill, leaned back in his chair and gave her his full attention. "...I'm listening."
Gwen squared her shoulders as if preparing for battle, took a deep breath and began. "After the events of this morning, I had an occasion to think. If toi insist on continuing with the boys' training, then I, in turn, must insist that toi meet a few demands."
Ah. He should have known. This was all about the boys. As was usually the case when an adorable Guinevere took adorable leave of her senses. Not quite the tact he'd expected she would take. Then again, she always was surprising him and this had already proven to be quite entertaining. He prepared himself for plus of the same.
A golden eyebrow rose in surprise. "Demands? This must be serious."
It was not her right to make the request ou her power to carry out any and every wish that fluttered into her beautiful head that Arthur questioned. It was her choice in letting him know she held the power to do so.
"It is."
"Alright then. Let's hear them."
"I've written them down." Gwen countered as she held out proof of her words.
"Oh, my. This is serious." Arthur quipped as he stared at the proffered parchment. He reached across the distance and took her demands in hand, opened the missive and began a silent reading. At each point, his eyebrow seemed to disappear further into his hair. "You want me to strap the boys to the chevaux so they can't fall off, jousting is to be done with leather lances and the mace shan't be attempted until they are at least fifteen?" Arthur couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. Though, for the record, he did try. "Guinevere, toi realize we can't do this."
"I do indeed." Gwen conceded quickly and reassuringly. "Which is why I also wanted to give toi this."
She offered him a seconde scroll.
"And this is?"
"My compromise with myself."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. His gaze, first focused on this 'compromise' as she called it, shifted to her, full of sudden suspicion. "Tell me." Rising from his seat, Arthur came around to where Gwen was standing and placed himself between her and the desk, then leaned back. "Did toi come up with all of this before ou after toi watched the boys train today?"
Her surprise was evident. "What? But, how did you..."
Blue eyes laughed down at her. "Guinevere, really. For years now, it has been a great pleasure of mine to watch you. There isn't a wave of your dainty hand..." A hand he slowly, deliberately gathered in his. "...a turn of your beautiful head..." Gently pushing himself away from the desk, he reached out and ran a lone finger down the side of her face before playfully caressing her chin. "...or a delicate footstep..." A sudden déplacer pulled her to him. An arm slipped around her waist anchoring her in place. "...that I couldn't recognize from a thousand paces." He took a moment to scan her face, his intense gaze landing on her lips then snapping upward to meet her suddenly dazed gaze with a pointed message. "With my eyes closed."
Gwen swallowed hard and felt the blood rush once plus to her cheeks. That tingle was back in full force and she was finding it increasingly hard to breath. When she spoke, a tell-tale tremor vibrated through her words. "Is...that...so?"
"Hmmm...very." His confirming whisper was like a warm, gentle breeze against her skin.
Arthur thrilled to the way her body trembled in his arms. How her gaze shifted with focused intensity to his lips. How shallow her breathing had become. He knew all too well the signs of his wife's descent into surrender. That it taken so little effort on his part was testament that he'd not been the only one to suffer through the temptations of the day.
Without thought ou will, Gwen gravitated toward him. Her hands slid up his torso with slowly seductive intent and châtaigne, châtaignier eyes grew almost black with desire as they latched on to a pair of lips hovering so close to hers. She wanted to Kiss him so badly it hurt. Actually, physically hurt. Why, why, why must he always be so...irresistible? And why had she chosen this night of all nights to do just that? A moment of decision was at hand -- either pursue her motherly crusade ou offer a wifely surrender without a fight. Her husband's cœur, coeur thundered beneath her hand. Her son's faces wavered before her...
Arthur is an ugly toad. Arthur is an ugly...
Her gaze slipped upward to meet his. The stormy desire waiting for her in those placid, blue depths broke all resistance.
Oh, blast it all. Spells be damned.
She tilted her head upward and leaned closer, her lips parting in invitation...
Then, like a flame cruelly snuffed out, Arthur shrugged, dropped her hand and sidestepped her, much as she'd done him earlier. The shift came so quickly, Gwen nearly Lost her balance and had to use the bureau for support. Arthur continued speaking, seemingly oblivious to the effect he'd had on her. "Besides, your bright red manteau was a dead give away. I could see toi coming before toi came out of the servant's entrance."
"Oh."
And for the life of her, Gwen couldn't tell if that 'oh' was a direct result of having been discovered so easily ou an intense disappointment that his lips were no longer within reach. ou both. If the pounding of her cœur, coeur and the intense ache inside of her was any indication...
Biting back a grin, a devious Arthur moved to a side table, tableau where a pitcher of water was always present. As much as he wanted her...and he did want her...a little payback was only fair. After all, that was only a small taste of what he'd had to endure all day. He poured himself a mug and let his chuckle get Lost in a deep gulp of water. Oh. So. Very. Close. Just a little bit longer and she would be a pliable mass of flesh ready and willing to be molded to his every desire. Like clay in the hand of a master potter.
"If it means anything, I am glad toi came. Though why toi bothered, I'll never know." Arthur continued as if nothing were amiss.
It took a moment longer than usual for his words to penetrate the fog surrounding her brain, but when they did, Gwen bristled and turned to face him. "And what do toi mean par that?"
She caught him in mid-swig. "Hmm, well..." Arthur swallowed then explained. "....you spent all of your time hidden, most of which toi had your hands over your eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth. I distinctly recall a moment when I actually prayed..." He cast his eyes upward in attitude of supplication. "'...dear God, don't let her bite it off'."
"And why would that be of concern?"
"Wellll..." Arthur took another drink of water, set the mug down with deliberate exactness then retraced his steps back to her, his now moist lips tilting in that familiarly sensual way of his. "...last I checked, lips were required for s’embrasser and there is a small matter..." He pulled her back into the cercle of his arms. "...of one that toi owe me. toi know, for bringing your boys accueil to you... unscathed."
One look in his laughing eyes and Gwen had his number. Little devil, indeed.. .
He was enjoying himself. Immensely. Playing with her. Teasing her. Winding her up, letting her teeter on a dangerous edge, pulling her back to relative safety...then winding her up again. Well, two could play at that game. It was a good thing she'd had the foresight to slip a little something in her seconde set of demands that should properly wind him up.
She was tempted to utter the magic phrase once more. Tempted, but not yielding. After all, the hope of wiping that knowing arrogance from his lips was proving to be plus potent than any magic spell could ever be in fortifying her resistance.
"All that is owed will be paid in due time, my luv. All in due time." There was a double-edged promise to those words and a daring glint in Gwen's eyes. Though it was increasingly difficult, she pushed herself out of his embrace. This time, she didn't go far. After all, there was a small matter that still needed to be addressed and once it was...
Gwen pressed the as-yet-unopened scroll to his chest, her eyes flicking downward. "My compromise."
Amused, Arthur took the document, cleared his throat, unrolled the scroll with a comically exaggerated flourish and began to read.
A moment of silence hung in the room.
"Now these..." Arthur pursed his lips and bobbed his head from side to side in silent agreement to the terms that met his gaze. "...these are demands I can live by."
"Can toi really?"
"Of course. I don't want our boys vying against each other for power ou position any plus than toi do. I remember too well the betrayal of family." Arthur commenté evenly. "As for the rest, these are all very reasonable requests."
A genuinely relieved Gwen beamed and bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. "I am so very glad we are agreed. I was worried that toi might think them too frivolous and I..."
Arthur's brows knit in consternation.
"Hang on a moment here."
Oh. He must have reached that part. With hands locked behind her back, Gwen unconsciously, nervously twisted back and forth as she innocently hummed. "Hmmm?"
"What's this about a training schedule?" As he quickly scanned further, Arthur's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief. "Oh, toi can't be serious. Guinevere, really."
His gaze met hers.
"What? If toi are determined to put a sword in their hands, I am equally determined to put a broom."
"Guin-e-vere..."
"I will not have my boys growing up like spoiled little prats, Arthur Pendragon. And don't toi dare give me that look. toi know exactly what I'm talking about." A finger raised in chastisement dropped to poke him lightly in the chest for emphasis. Gwen had clearly prepared for this battle as she stepped into the arena, already swinging. "I want them to know how to cook for themselves, mend their own weapons, sew their own buttons if need be. I know they have servants and I know it's unconventional, but toi and I, Arthur, are an unconventional king and queen. Our boys are the product of that and should be our testament to the realm. Both yours and mine."
Barely taking a breath, Gwen continued. "And when it comes their time, it is only right that they rule knowing what their decisions will do to their people. Having them spend some time in the lower town learning common men's trades will not only expand their experiences and resourcefulness, but it will make them better leaders. It will make them better men. They need to understand and appreciate the hard work that goes into maintaining a kingdom as much as they need to know how to negotiate a peace treaty ou balançoire, swing a sword. And if toi have a problem with that, Arthur, then we have a problem."
Arthur chuckled, his eyes dancing with admiration, as he placed reassuring hands on her shoulders. "Guinevere..." His pride in the passion and common sense of his wife was something Arthur always felt but could rarely express. Now was no different. Though he certainly did try. "...my fierce and noble queen, toi can withdraw from the field of battle with honor. I agree with all that you've said."
Gwen blinked at that.
"You do."
"Without question."
Confusion crumbled her expression. "Then I don't understand. What is your objection?"
"You're going to teach them to woo?" His pointed look was as much question as it was accusation.
"Oh. That."
"Yes. That."
Gwen shrugged off his inquiry with a wave of her hand. "Well, I don't intend on teaching them right away, of course. They're just little boys. But it's never too early to instill in them the proper respect that every lady deserves. It is, after all, half the battle in winning a lady's heart."
"That, Guinevere, is not the issue."
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Gwen placed impatient hands on her shapely hips. "Then what is?"
"You will be teaching them instead of me because..."
It started as a smile that turned into a grin that flourished into a chuckle then outright laughter filling the room. "Oh, Arthur. That's so sweet that toi think toi could."
Feeling plus than a bit insulted par her reaction, instant irritation flushed blood red on Arthur's face. "I beg your pardon. There was nothing 'sweet' about that and did I not win you?"
Gwen struggled to contain herself. Precisely what she expected. She could always count on the male ego layered with that Pendragon pride to deliver to her an Arthur primed for gentle manipulation. "Yes. But that was in spite of yourself." Another giggle escaped. Then another as Gwen lovingly patted him on the chest and shook her head with an amused sigh. "Oh, Arthur. toi are such a dear dollop-head sometimes."
Taking the parchment from him, she grinned, turned toward his bureau and began to close up boutique for the day. Now that she'd gained her husband's tacit approval on the plan to shape their sons' future, she was beyond ready to put her own secret plans in action.
"But...how can you...I...how..."
"Remember destiny and chicken?" Gwen tossed over her shoulder. Though that issue had been settled long ago, Gwen couldn't help the tightness of her tone. Perhaps because the lady in question still professed first official claim to Arthur's heart. "I do. Lady Vivian never fails to remind me when she visits. Which is precisely why we keep those to once every other an and hide every chicken in Camelot when she does."
"I was not responsible for that! I was enchanted!"
"Yes, to l’amour her. Your method of wooing, however, was all on you." Having tidied his desk, Gwen turned to face him. Noting his exasperation, her expression softened with sympathy. She approached him, gathered his face in her hands and sought to soothe and cajole. "Awww, don't get me wrong, luv." With a twist. "I'm glad toi failed."
"Gwen, honestly." Ego now thoroughly bruised, Arthur defiantly removed her hands from his face, took a step back and struck the pose of a man having been falsely accused and ready to answer each charge in earnest. Hands on hips. Shoulders squared. Lips full and pursed with serious intent. "I know just as much about wooing a woman as any man."
"And that, Arthur, is the problem." Gwen answered, continuing to push buttons -- and Arthur -- in the direction she desperately wanted him to go. "Face it, dear, toi have never been one for grand, romantic gestures like a...a bard chant my praises ou poésie written par your own hand."
"Perhaps not." As expected, Arthur took up the challenge she'd subtly leveled without hesitation. Hard muscles flexed unconsciously beneath the white shirt, relaxed and flexed again. His jaw tightened stubbornly and his eyes snapped with raw determination. He was focused. Intense. Commanding. The very picture of a conqueror greedily eyeing his conquest just moments before he release the battle cry and claimed the spoils of his raid. "But let me tell toi something, Guinevere Pendragon, I know the only thing any man needs to."
"Oh?" Gwen's cœur, coeur triple-hammered in her chest as she secretly thrilled to the thought of her man proving just that. "And what is that?"
"What his lady wants."
Four words.
Just. Four. Words.
In a tone that brokered no argument. No resistance. No defeat.
And Guinevere Pendragon's victory was in sight.
"And what, pray tell, does your lady want?"
Her coy smile was not Lost on Arthur. Nor was the flirtatious sweep of her gaze as she took him in, head to toe then back again. Pausing to admire, lingering provocatively. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth in a sure sign of desire.Oh. Ohhh. Oh, that darling little minx. She just ambushed me and I fell for it. Well. Nicely played, Guinevere Pendragon. And now...turn about is fair play...
Arthur Lost no time answering his lady's unspoken request. A golden eyebrow rose. "First of all...ambiance.”
With a snap of Arthur's fingers, the unlit candles spread throughout the room flared to life.
Gwen gasped in surprise and delight as she gazed around her. “Arthur, how did you...” She let the thought dangle, then answered her own question. “Merlin.”
“No. Magic. Ours, to be exact.” Arthur corrected cryptically. He held his hand out to her. "Does my lady like it?”
A sly smile curved Gwen's lips as her gaze focus a moment on his silent invitation before slipping upward to meet his steady, hungry gaze. She bit back a trembling sigh as a delicate hand slipped into his with deliberate, taunting slowness. “Indeed, she does."
His fingers closed over hers. There was a pause pregnant with tantalizing possibilities as they stared at each other. Desire. Longing. Need. The slow feu building between them sparked and blazed and threatened to consume. Intense. Raw. Palpable. And just when Gwen thought she would explode from the anticipation of Arthur's suivant move, he spoke.
"Then perhaps...she would also like..." Then in one smooth, lightening-quick move, Arthur unexpectedly spun her around and pulled her hard against him, back to chest. The low, predatory rumble in her ear was in direct contrast to the implied submission of his chosen word. "...a confession."
The room grew unearthly still. And hellishly hot. And there was simply no air left to breathe.
Oh, sweet heaven above, this is going to be delicious. Trembling from Arthur's maneuver and cœur, coeur thudding so loudly in her ears she could barely make out her own words, Gwen urged him on. "A...confession?" Gwen swallowed hard, her breath was now coming in short, erratic pants. A tongue darted out to wet suddenly parched lips. "And umm...what...what wicked deed have toi done today?"
"None. Yet." That one gently clipped word held plus promise than even Gwen had anticipated. Her eyes drifted closed as she sank into him, letting her soft curves mold into the hard lines of his body. She felt everything. The cœur, coeur thundering against her back. Each flex of his muscles. Every breath. The low rumble of his voice in her ear vibrated through her, setting off intense sparks and making her insides tremble unmercifully. "But I do confess to learning my lesson."
"Lesson?"
A shiver chased down her spine when Arthur dropped a Kiss on her shoulder. Then another. And another. Like raindrops of fire. The heat of them soaked into her skin and spread rapidly to the most delightfully intimate places. His provocative assault continued in her other ear as he nuzzled her neck first, then her hair, breathing her in and exhaling a unique mixture of deep satisfaction and pure desire. Gwen tilted her head to give him ample access as her fingers found the side of his face, lingered a moment for a loving caress then slid upward, getting Lost in his silky hair.
"Mmmm, yes. The one you've been trying so very hard to teach me all day."
"Which is?"
"That I can spend days and nights away from toi and return a tortured man." His hands moved from her waist and began to wander with purpose. "But being so close, having toi in the same room, within reach and not be able to touch you...well, now..." Fingers dancing along her too sensitive ribcage and ghosting toward a favori destination, Arthur trailed slow, hot kisses from shoulder to neck then nipped at Gwen's earlobe before finishing his thought. "...that's a special kind of hell on earth."
"Nicely...." Gwen struggled to speak, offering instead a prolonged sigh of pleasure in response to his determinedly roaming hands. "...put."
"Nicely taught." She felt the smile in his voice as it caressed her skin. "But here endeth the lesson. Agreed?"
"Mmm-hmm..." Gwen purred her answer, a clear indication that what she was agreeing to mattered little as long as his hands continued to work their magic.
"There's just one, slight problem." Arthur intoned his disappointment.
"Oh? And what is that?" Fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, Gwen's lips tilted in an amused smile. Her husband was up to something plus than the obvious. She'd know that tone anywhere.
"There are entirely too many layers of material between us."
And there it is. We are now back at the beginning. He really is shamelessly obvious tonight.
There'd been no doubt he would gain her ultimate agreement. Not even the first time he'd suggested it. But there was something in the unspoken asking that hinted at a deeper need. That called to something fundamental between them. The equality of their union. The honor of their covenant. The inherently gentle ebb and flow of their love. And his profound desire to be donné what he could easily take.
She readily, eagerly complied.
"Well..." Hands dropping to cover his, she moved them to the laces on her tunic before voicing her solution to their problem. Just in case her non-verbal suggestion was unclear. "...you did say something about undressing your wife..."
"Indeed." There was a satisfied smile in his voice. "Another confession?" Arthur offered before sending another shiver through her entire body. "I've been dying to do this...all day."
"And I, with you."
Gwen's answer gained her a gentle Kiss on her cheek. "Then let us die no longer."
For the suivant few moments, neither of them spoke. Neither of them breathed.
Arthur made quick work of the laces of Gwen's outer tunic then discarded the pins keeping her hair in place with irreverent haste. It was then he paused. He relished. He breathed her in. His hands slowly colombe into her thick tresses, gently jostling them free from their constraints until a riot of waves cascaded down Gwen's back. His hands followed in seductive pursuit as they slipped between the sheer dentelle and heavy linen of her inner and outer tunic before journeying back up over her shoulders, down her arms, his determined fingers hooking the material and taking her outer tunic with them.
As her dress fell to the floor with gentle thud, Arthur's hands slipped downward to her tiny waist then lower to her shapely hips. A gentle nudge indicated his wishes. "And now, Guinevere..."
Complying, she turned and arched her neck to fully look into his face. One hand slipped through his hair sending heated chills vibrating through his body as her other hand instinctively found its way to cover his rapidly beating heart. There was no doubting the desire that flared in her eyes as she looked at him coyly then melted into him, leaving not even a breath to spare between them.
"Yes?"
Her warm breath blew against the exposed skin and Arthur immediately felt the impact in the Chair de poule that spread over his flesh. He pressed his hand into the small of her back making her contact with his hardness plus pronounced as his eyes locked with hers in an intimate promise. As his gaze drifted downward to place a blazing caress over the fullness of her lips, her tongue unconsciously snuck out in response, moistening the focus of his desire. "...I am a starving man."
"I'm quite famished myself." Gwen responded breathlessly.
"Perhaps, then, we should..."
Gwen stopped him with a finger to his lips. "Less talk, luv."
A smile spread beneath her touch as an knowing eyebrow lifted. "More action?"
"Mmm-hmmm." Gwen's lips tilted in eager acquiescence.
"What my lady wants..." Eyes locked, Arthur's lips hovered teasingly over hers. "...my lady gets..."
The Kiss was not at all unexpected, nor was the explosive intensity of it.
Arthur’s velvety lips slid over Gwen’s in perfect rhythm contradicting the erratic beating of their hearts as his fingers Raiponce in her silky hair then slipped vers l'avant, vers l’avant to grasp her jaw pulling her plus deeply into him. A wave of dizziness shook them both to their core as Arthur sucked her bottom lip provocatively eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from deep inside Gwen. Gwen's tongue traced Arthur's lips teasingly, urging his openness, a silent request he readily complied to. Passion ignited like a burst of flame that threatened to consume as tongues and lips met hungrily. Caressing, exploring, stroking…becoming reacquainted with well-known territory as if they'd been separated for years instead of mere hours.
That's when the unexpected happened. Guinevere felt ill. Positively, physically, stomach-churningly ill. She pulled out of Arthur's arms, spun away and covered her mouth in an effort not to gag. His hands were at her back instantly and she felt another lurch coming. His presence engulfed her and she gagged again. She quickly surmised the reason. "Oh, no. No, no, no, not now."
Arthur was instantly alarmed. "Guinevere, what's wrong?"
Hand on her stomach, she swallowed back the bile that had risen so quickly and began to frantically fan herself. "How long has it been since I came in the room?"
"I don't know. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe."
Turning her toward him, Arthur dipped his head to gain her attention. His hands were on her face and the confusion and concern in his eyes made her regret having ever approached Merlin for help. She was going to maim that little magician the suivant time she saw him...
"Gwen, what is it?"
Biting her lower lip, Gwen's mortified gaze met his. "Oh, Arthur, I've done something rather silly."
"That seems to be the norm today." Arthur quipped as relief washed over him at her words. Silly he could handle. "What did toi do?"
"I asked Merlin to spell me so I could..." She paused and swallowed hard. "...well, resist you."
"Resist me?"
Gwen's head bobbed in confirmation. Her averted gaze and fluttering hands were an outward indication of her inward angst. "After today I figured you'd plan some grand gesture to coax me into bed. And after watching toi train today, I so, sooo wanted to be coaxed but..."
"You had to make your point about the boys first. I see." Arthur quickly surmised, his mind racing through the events of the evening, putting two and two together. Suddenly, things made a bit plus sense. His gaze slid to her discomfited expression. He wanted so badly to laugh at her antics, but she looked so miserable and mortified standing there, he simply didn't have the heart.
Now.
Later perhaps...
"And I take it a side effect of this spell is the urge to lose your dîner if we kiss."
"It appears so."
"Well, if there's one thing I've learned from Merlin in all these years, it is that every spell can be broken." He paused, Lost in thought. "Was there a time on the spell ou was I to be tortured indefinitely?"
"I never intended to torture and I only asked for twenty minutes." A pretty pout formed on a now-humbled Gwen's lips.
"Twenty minutes." Pursed lips, a curt nod of his head and hands on his hips, a determined Arthur was not to be deterred. "Well, then. That gives us five to sit here and stare at each other or..."
"Or?"
Her gaze snapped upward to meet his, hope sparking like a freshly ignited flame.
"Five to prove me right." Arthur held his hand out to her, a challenging eyebrow raised and a predatory smile touching his lips. "That is, of course, if toi dare risk it."
Gwen's smile returned in full force as she
slipped her hand into his and let him pull her back accueil into the cercle of his arms. Her hands drifted to his face in a gentle, loving caress. "For one of your kisses, Arthur Pendragon, I would risk the world."
This time the Kiss was achingly slow and tantalizingly sweet.
So sweet it made her cœur, coeur weep. So slow, she felt as if she were being savored. Worshipped. Torn apart bit par delicious bit. She sighed her immense approval. And that sigh turned into a moan. The moan into a plea. The plea into a demand...
And with two minutes to go, the spell was broken.
But for the rest of the night, the magic still remained.
tbc....
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![We Have Always Been, We Shall Always Be [4]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/33200000/We-Have-Always-Been-We-Shall-Always-Be-4-arthur-and-gwen-33224557-245-260.gif)
