Merlin 1. Part 1: Armor Is No Obstacle

**Title: **Armor Is No Obstacle 

**Show: **_Merlin _

**Characters/Pairings: **Gwen/Arthur

**Rating: **NC-17 for sexuality

**Word Count:** 2,604

**Spoilers:** Season 1

**Warnings:** a bit OOC (depending on how believing you are of having dirty secrets). AU S1, unless you don't want it to be… because you never know…*winkwink*

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Merlin_ or its characters. Wouldn't mind owning Arthur though… Alas!

**Summary:** Gwen and Arthur have a little secret tradition for the annual Camelot tournament…

*Also posted on my livejournal under same username*

**A/N:** The night that the merlin_rarepair Challenge 3 prompt of "kink" was posted was the same night I rewatched 1x09 on NBC. I know it's hardly the kinkiest kink out there, but I had just been thinking about how delicious Arthur was in armor a few hours previous & then my head started running away with a plot bunny… and here we go.

I present: **Armor Kink**. Cuz don't tell me my fellow fangirls haven't thought it at least once. Heehee.

Let's face it. This probably doesn't happen in canon. But it _could_. _Maaaybeee_ ;)

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Their first time together had been during Arthur's first tournament as well. He was 16. Arthur had done surprisingly well in the first rounds, especially for his young age. But there was definite speculation that he couldn't beat the reigning champion, an older and bigger man. And those sentiments were affecting Arthur's confidence.

Lady Morgana sent Gwen to his room to give him a token the night before the final challenge and that is how it had started.

Gwen couldn't be quite sure how it happened that first time. He'd been nervous about the final, she'd said something to reassure him, he'd thanked her for her comfort…. And then Gwen could not quite remember how she'd ended up in his bed from there, she only remembered that it had progressed surprisingly naturally.

And then the next morning, he won the last battle and was named champion.

The year after that, the same thing happened: Gwen went to his room with a token from Morgana for the final round and somehow fell into bed with him for the second time.

By the next year, Morgana had stopped bothering with such social obligations as giving Arthur tokens. Yet Gwen still found herself stopping by to wish him luck and was immediately embraced by him and pulled into a kiss. He never asked about the absent token; it was as if he didn't care.

It happened each year, always the night before the final match of the Camelot tournament. It progressed from the fairly awkward first encounter to the unimaginable compatibility of their fourth. Thinking back on it, they were so young when it first happened and now they were grown, both 20 in age. But time hadn't stopped their annual habit before.

It was a strange agreement. Every other day of the year, they acted no differently than they should. In fact, they rarely interacted at all. But for whatever reason it was completely different for those few hours of the night, once a year. Then the next day, they returned to perfect normality. Those were the unspoken rules.

---

It wasn't as if Arthur was superstitious the way many knights were, with their lucky trinkets and pointless rituals. Sleeping with Gwen was more like preparation. After which he would fall asleep soundly, tired from the exertion, instead of lying awake and worrying about the following day. Then he would wake up refreshed and relaxed, some of the euphoria from the preceding night still remaining to ward off nervousness.

The previous year Gwen had been especially useful with his extra stress over Valiant. After spending his night angry with Merlin and at his own stupidity, embarrassed by the debacle in court, and ashamed of what his father must think of him, Gwen made everything seem better for an hour. She did not say anything about it, which he was glad for. Perhaps she knew it would be better that she didn't. Instead she took his mind off everything by just making love to him so he fell asleep thinking about her beautiful figure in place of all his troubles.

But last night, he'd been wanting her to come to his room without even thinking about stress-relief. He just wanted her. It had been a whole year, after all… Yet she did not come.

He knew that day would arrive, most likely when either he had finally been arranged into a marriage or she had begun seeing a nice miller's son, an honest butcher's apprentice, or he even used to wonder about Merlin. He thought it would be because of some other relationship one of them had. But he never thought it would be because of something which had happened _between them_.

Months ago, something between them changed. He didn't know what or how, merely that it _had_ changed. Perhaps it was because of the way they acted differently around each other. They didn't used to acknowledge each other at all. But then small isolated events occurred: her arrest, their cooperation to save a poisoned Merlin, their conversation at Ealdor, her father dying, him being tended by her... These little things built on top of each other until Arthur and Gwen could no longer live under the illusion that they had no other connection between them besides sex one night a year.

---

Gwen made her way through the grounds, navigating the maze of colored tents until she found the one she sought: red with a golden dragon.

She ducked inside, finding only Arthur among a table, a chair, and some other things.

He looked up, but said nothing. She had been afraid of him being upset, but instead he just seemed… guarded.

"I'm sorry, I never came by last night," she said quietly. "Morgana had a horrible dream last night and begged that I stay with her. I only just now have been able to get away."

"Oh." Arthur sighed heavily, as if relieved. "I thought it was… something else."

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "Just, nevermind."

There was silence between them, making them both awkwardly look away from each other.

Gwen finally wet her lips. "We could still…" At this, she raised her eyes to his, seeing him inhale and contemplate her suggestion.

Ultimately, he sighed. "There's just not enough time for me to get all my armor off and back on."

Gwen had already thought of this and shrugged one shoulder. "Then we don't take it off."

---

Arthur was taken aback at this. Yes, their annual tryst tended to show a bolder side of Gwen that he never saw besides then. But they never really strayed from conventional means. She even smiled wickedly at her suggestion, as if the idea of it excited her.

She held out her hand to Arthur, which he took, and led him to the table. She hopped up onto it, pulling him right in front of her and tugging up her skirt.

Her hands then went between the front slit of his knight's tunic to the bottom of his mail, lifting it and the under-layer of padding up to his stomach with her left hand. With her right, she unlaced his trousers, slipped him free, and began to rub him in her palm.

Arthur let out a strangled groan, trying to keep quiet with only the thin barrier of the tent to muffle their sounds. But he couldn't help it as he felt her hand on his arousal, now fully hard.

Gwen guided him closer, her knees catching his hips and letting his mail rest on her thighs as he came right near her entrance.

Arthur noticed how she only hitched up her skirts to her waist, but he made quick work of the ties at her front. He brought her hands away from him – despite his body's protests –and pulled the dress completely off her. Even if they didn't have to time for him to take off his armor, there was no way he was going another year without seeing her naked.

His eyes swept over her body, just as perfect as he remembered. The sunlight filtering through the red tent made her toffee skin glow a deep blush, exaggerating the flush that habitually graced her body when he took her. And Arthur liked the effect, imagining that this time Gwen was just that much hotter for him.

Gwen bit her lip in anticipation as he admired her. She rolled her hips forward, whimpering as her center brushed the head of his shaft. Arthur could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, her wetness moistening his tip from when she had grazed against him. He needed no more invitation, excitedly bracing her hips as he pushed into her.

He watched as Gwen shuddered and moaned softly. Her hand then quickly found the neck of his armor, jerking him forward into a kiss.

---

Arthur met her lips eagerly, wasting no time in slipping his tongue into her mouth and tilting her head back. Gwen groaned against his lips, wrapping her hand more tightly over the collar of his armor to keep him from leaving her – although she knew he wouldn't. Her other arm was slightly behind her, supporting herself as her hips met his in a steady rhythm.

He began with small thrusts, his gloved hands roving over her hips and sides up to her breasts. Gwen gasped at the exotic sensation of leather against her skin. It was strange but delicious, his ministrations making her hum in approval.

The seams of his glove proved even better when he brushed the sides of his thumbs over her nipples. She cried out, pulling her mouth from his to instinctively tilt her head back. Gwen saw as he smirked, deciding to languorously rub the seams against her nipples to see her react further. He was rewarded, Gwen biting her lip to try and keep the loud cries from escaping her mouth, resulting in desperate mewls.

Arthur pulled his right hand from her and brought it to his mouth. Their eyes locked, sharing equally lustful gazes, as he bit the tip of his middle finger and yanked the glove off. He tucked it haphazardly in the side of his belt before finding the supple skin of her thigh. Arthur growled at the contact, apparently reveling in the feel of her skin after being deprived of it from the gloves. He kneaded her thigh before traveling up to the curve of her bottom, pulling her closer against him, and plunging deeper inside her.

"Arthur," she gasped against his ear, while the arm that had steadied her on the table flew around his shoulders. He moaned lowly into her hair, although she didn't know if it was in response to her saying his name or the new intensity between their bodies.

His left, leather-clad hand traveled delectably from her hip, up her back, to between her shoulder blades and pressed her to him. She knew he was unable to feel her body through his padding and mail, so the affection of him holding her against him stirred her, although it could have easily just been done out of habit or wishing that he did not have such barriers.

Gwen, however, could still take advantage of his chest, realizing this as she rubbed eagerly against his mail. The tunic covered the mail, providing just enough protection from the roughness of the metal but not preventing her from feeling the friction of the steel links on her body. She gripped the armor plates on his shoulder tighter as she moved against him, sliding up and down to work her breasts and stomach along his chain mail.

Her thighs tightened around his hips, feeling his mail dig into her flesh. But she didn't care, she even _wanted_ it to, to leave some mark behind, even if the pattern indented between her thighs would fade within the hour.

Her left hand ran down his armor-clad arm, urging him to pull her hips even closer and move faster, _harder – _which he obliged. Her fingers stayed there, skimming over the cool, smooth metal on his bicep. She listened for each dull click of the armor joints moving against each other, the metallic sound familiar to her ears.

Gwen thought of her obsession with armor. Before it had been an interest, a hobby, but this was definitely taking her love of armor to a new level. It didn't help that the days leading up to this –the only time she would allow herself to desire Arthur – he was primarily in armor. And she would watch him fight from the stands, anticipating their approaching tryst and yearning for his armor-clad body. So it did not seem so strange to her, to make love to him in his armor. It appealed to her – hell, it _excited_ her – making her overcome with desire.

_Just a little more_.

---

Arthur knew she was close.

He always loved this part: when her body moved more feverishly against him, her breathing ragged and gasping in his ear, and she held on tighter, _desperate_. He liked how badly she _needed_ him and it was up to him to appease her.

Arthur remembered their first time, when he hadn't gotten her off – something that he was still a little ashamed of. Not only had he been inexperienced, but he really hadn't thought about it. By the next year, however, he had learned a bit more and got her to come. And he made sure to each year, wanting her to get her share of pleasure considering what she was doing for him… And especially because he loved it when she did.

He watched hungrily as Gwen arched her back and tilted her chin up. Arthur took the chance to kiss and suck on her exposed neck, feeling her racing pulse and the pleasurable sounds which she held back rumbling in her throat.

Her hands went to his hair, curling fists into his locks as he drove deeper in her still. She began to twitch, right at the edge, teetering on her breaking point. He heard Gwen suck in her breath and hold it, her body stilling for just a moment before the convulsions took her. She made little yelps and growls, trying to keep her noises to a minimum, but Arthur hardly cared if someone heard them at this point.

No longer having to hold back, he fervently thrust into her, clutching at her still-quaking body, speedily finding his own release, and hoarsely calling the name his lips knew well.

"_Guinevere_."

Once Arthur withdrew a small distance between them, Gwen slowly fell backward to lie on the table, tired and sated. She rested her head against the arm she curled up by her ear, her other arm stretched out straight above her. Her eyes fluttered half closed, still watching him through heavy lids, as a small satisfied smile crept onto her mouth.

"Hope I didn't tire you out," she murmured.

Arthur shook his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his un-gloved hand. "Just warming up for the fight," he panted.

Arthur rested his fists on the table by her sides to recover. While he looked down at her he noticed how at ease she was, remembering the girl that used to be embarrassed of her nakedness at the end of the night, quickly dressing to flee his room. He met her feline smile and for the first time he knew for sure that she didn't take part in their annual trysts out of obligation, but because she genuinely took pleasure in it.

She looked so alluring stretched out before him, more than any previous year and even just minutes prior. She reminded him of a nymph, beautiful and voluptuous. Arthur wanted to have her all over again, however he knew that time wouldn't allow it… But he didn't know if he could wait another year.

"Guinevere," he whispered. "Come to my room tonight, after the banquet. Please?"

She said nothing. Instead she sat up, her hands lifting up his mail and lacing back up his trousers. Arthur nervously watched as she then righted his tunic, straightened his mail, and smoothed his hair, before finally finding his eyes again.

Her lips twitched into a smile. "Only if you win," she teased lightly, because she knew he would.

He groaned at her words, leaning in to kiss her soundly. "I've never had more incentive to," he growled before reluctantly leaving the tent, full of energy and prepared to fight a whole league of men if need be just to have Guinevere in his bed that night.

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Review, please!


	2. Part 2: Once Is Not Enough

**Part 2 Title: Once Is Not Enough**

**Show: **_Merlin _

**Characters/Pairings: **Gwen/Arthur, Morgana cameo

**Rating: **NC-17

**Word Count:** 2,756

**Warnings:** a bit OOC (depending on how believing you are of having dirty secrets). Porn with only minor plot.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Merlin_ or its characters. Wouldn't mind owning Arthur though… Alas!

**Summary:** Gwen and Arthur had a little secret tradition for the annual Camelot tournament… and now they're breaking the unspoken rules. (Sequel to Armor Is No Obstacle)

**A/Ns:** For the camelot_love's Help Haiti Thing-a-thon on LJ, hosted by the selfless threemeows. threemeows' request was "remember that fic you did a while back, the one where gwen and arthur already were in a purely sexual relationship and they basically only slept together right before tournaments? He asked her to come to his room that night after the feast. I WANT THAT FIC LIKE BURNING ;D"

Even though when I wrote Part 1 of Armor Is No Obstacle I meant it to be quasi-compliant with S1, now that S2 happened, it's safe to say that both are AU.

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Gwen noticed how Arthur's eyes wandered over to her numerous times throughout the feast. It was strange, she thought, since he had never so much as glanced at her in all the other years they had had their annual trysts before the tournaments. But tonight, his gaze kept finding her, a small smile on his face that made her stomach swoop.

An hour before the probable end of the celebration, Lady Morgana excused herself because of a headache. Arthur noticed Gwen leaving with her lady and gave a small nod, his eyes piercing directly into hers.

"I would think you had somewhere to be, Gwen, the way you're rushing me into bed."

Gwen hoped the single candle didn't show her blushing face as she tucked the blankets around her mistress.

"I don't know why you would think that, my lady. Where do I have to be besides tending to you?"

Morgana smiled, however disbelieving. "Home. Which is where you should be after I kept you from it all last night. Perhaps this headache causing me an early night is in hopes to make up for that."

"It is never a trouble to stay with you, my lady. I've told you that many times."

Her mistress shook her head and shooed Gwen with a wave of her hand. "You do too much. Now, go. Have a pleasant night."

"Good night, my lady," Gwen whispered back.

Gwen closed the door softly, her feet then finding her halfway to Arthur's chambers before she realized what she was doing. Her mind was too busy thinking about that morning, making her face grow warm and heat pool between her legs.

She gave a quick look to check no one was around, before knocking on the prince's door.

"Come in," she heard him call, cueing her to push open the door.

Arthur turned away from looking out the window as she closed the door behind her. Neither moved from their place on either side of his room, making the distance between them seemed startling as they stared at each other.

"Congratulations on winning the tournament, my lord," she began formally.

"Thank you, Guinevere. Although I had some help."

"Help, my lord?"

He stepped forward. "From a woman. She gave me the right motivation."

Gwen felt herself flush. "What motivation was that?"

"A promise."

"It is nothing you haven't received before from her."

"But I am always grateful to receive it." He took another step toward her. "Guinevere," he began, his voice rumbling in that perfect way, "you are…"

She stepped forward as well. "What?"

"I don't know," he sighed, shaking his head.

They finally met in the middle of the room, staring silently at each other once more.

Gwen's eyes fell to study his body, her hands then reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. She paused, his shirt slipping through her fingers and floating to the floor as she admired his chest. Gone were the days when she was embarrassed to look at him like this, lust clearly in her eyes.

There was no doubt that she had found his armor arousing, the way he looked every bit the fearsome warrior and noble knight. But he was equally masculine bare-chested, and she had almost forgotten how appealing he looked naked… _almost_.

Biting her lip at the gall of her initiative with a prince, she pressed her palms against his abdomen. He did nothing, just continued watching her face. So she ran her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. She met his eyes, swallowing, wondering why he did no more than place his left hand on her hip.

"Arthur," she whispered, and his features finally broke into a smile at his name.

He tilted her chin with the knuckle of his other hand, before moving his fingers back and tangling them within her hair to guide her mouth to his. The kiss was soft and gentle, but firm. It was not like the frantic kisses they'd shared earlier that day before the final round – no, quite the opposite. They sent tingling sensations down her body and drew a long moan from her as her fingers tightened on his shoulders. He had never kissed her like this before.

"How much did you have to drink tonight?" she asked with a raised eyebrow when they finally broke.

He bent to kiss a slow trail down her neck. "Barely anything. I wouldn't want anything to heed me," he answered huskily. "Why?"

"You're just, um," Gwen struggled. She would have had a hard enough time finding the right words without him distracting her. _Different._

It's not like he had ever been rough with her. But he had always gauged his intensity to be just as much as she was up to, which became more and more considering how they'd just been in the tent that morning.

Not that she could complain, she thought, as he undressed her and his hands now ran over her waist and hips. It sent delicious shivers down her spine to which she closed her eyes. She then felt his mouth on her breast, making her gasp and instinctively clutch at his hair.

Remembering herself, she ran her other hand down his chest, her fingers shaking as he suckled her nipple and she tried to undo his trouser laces. But his hand stopped hers before she could reach inside.

"Let me savor this," he whispered, his voice on edge.

He brought her to his bed, laying her down in the middle. He then covered her body with his, resuming their kiss from before as his hands ran languorously over her body, making her moan and press against him. She grasped his shoulders before running her hands down his sides.

_God, she wanted him… _

He shifted, making her think he was moving to take off his trousers. Instead, his mouth just went lower on her body to her shoulders and collarbones, placing unhurried kisses over her until he reached her breasts and did the same there. He lingered for awhile, swirling and flicking his tongue around her nipples until her eyes rolled back in her head and she keened. Then he continued to her ribcage and stomach.

He'd never done this before. Never spent _this much_ attention on her. And she was far past the point of needing to be readied for him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking with need.

"Taking you in," he whispered huskily. "For until next year."

Gwen flushed. It's not like as prince – and a handsome one at that – he couldn't get other women in his bed between their times together. So why was he acting like this was such a special occasion?

Reason left her once he's reached her hipbones, his mouth following them down until he was _so close_.

"Spread your legs for me," he whispered.

Gwen didn't even think before her body acted on its own.

His fingers were on her. And he wasn't just checking to see if she was wet and ready for him. No, he was running his fingers over her in a caress.

Gwen made a small noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan, which caused Arthur to look up. His eyes met hers, watching her as she felt his finger press all the way inside her. Then she definitely moaned. Her hands clutched the sheets when he actually started to move it in and out of her, her breathing growing heavy.

She didn't understand why he was doing this, why he was pleasuring _her_ without getting anything out of it himself. Men just weren't like that; they placed their own pleasure above a woman's if they even considered it at all.

She met Arthur's gaze again, studying how he smiled at her, his expression like it often was as he bedded her.

Was he actually taking pleasure in this?

He stopped, causing her to sigh in what she realized was disappointment. Until he added another finger while his other hand rested on her mound to move his thumb over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She cried out, her fists tightening around the sheet underneath her as he worked. She wasn't even going to bother trying to figure out his motive for doing this anymore. As long as he kept doing this.

"Don't stop," she whimpered, her body tightening and her legs twitching as she approached her release. "_Please_."

"Not until you want me to, Guinevere," he growled back.

She pressed the back of her head firmly against the pillow as she keened, colored lights popping behind her eyelids.

His hands finally slowed, before pulling the fingers from inside her out and sucking them into his mouth. She watched as his eyes closed and he made an unconscious noise to communicate his pleasure. His other hand remained resting on her mound, his thumb still flicking occasionally over her still-sensitive bud and making her gasp and whimper. Then he leaned forward, running his tongue over her folds and sucking lightly on her clit. She bucked wildly against him and cried his name, making him lift his head and flash a cocky grin.

He crawled forward to cover her body with his again, being met by Gwen wrapping her arms tight around him to pull him close. He probed her lips open, slowly running his tongue over the inside of her mouth for her to taste herself. She might have even thought it bizarre if she wasn't so enthralled in the moment.

Then her hands were unlacing his trousers, which he wasn't stopping her from doing this time. He didn't even need her help in getting aroused, she realized. But Gwen stroked him anyway, enjoying how he shivered and his hips instinctively jerked against her hands. He buried his face into her neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin below her ear.

"Stop, Guinevere, please," he pleaded breathlessly. "I want… I can't take…"

She couldn't help but smile to herself at her control over him, enjoying how his body quaked over hers. But she stopped anyway, opting instead to push his trousers the rest of the way off.

In the next moment, he was inside of her, their bodies instinctively grinding into each other before any rhythm could be set. They paused and readjusted, Arthur pulling one of her legs around his waist so he sank deeper, causing a collective moan. Then they were moving against each other again, this time in perfect unison.

His face was still buried in her neck, his breath hot on her skin, occasionally pressing moist kisses over her throat. Every so often he moaned her full name – _Guinevere_ – against her ear, caressing each syllable in a way she'd never heard from anyone but him. Each time he, she'd grip his shoulders tighter, sometimes gasping his given name in return. Then she would feel his lips curl against her skin into a smile, because she knew that for whatever reason he liked it when she called him that – _Arthur_.

It did not take her long to find her release again, Arthur following not long behind. He rolled off her, both of them panting heavily.

A few minutes passed, before Gwen deemed it the right time for her to leave. So she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to get up. But before she could, she felt a strong arm wrapped around her waist.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

"Home," she answered promptly.

Arthur began to place kisses over her shoulder. "So soon?"

She tried to ignore her body's reaction to him. "You're insatiable, did you know that?"

"When it comes to you, I am."

Gwen's face became heated once again. "I don't know why, my lord." It's not like she was the most experienced of women. She'd only been with one other boy from the village, which paled in comparison to some girls. There were definitely more practiced women.

"It's 'Arthur,'" he reminded. "And I don't know why, either, Guinevere. It's unexplainable."

He was kissing the sensitive spot below her ear now, crumbling Gwen's resolve. He was soon lying back down, pulling her on top of him. She surrendered all too easily, propping herself up to kiss him.

They'd certainly been kissing a lot that night, especially while not actually in coitus. But it was hard to complain when his mouth was making her body quiver, growing warm and pliant for him.

It seemed she was not the only one responding to their kisses, considering how he was growing hard against her thighs a few minutes later. He groaned, pressing her more firmly against him with his hands on her lower back.

She finally pulled back enough to look at him properly.

"But you're exhausted, my lord," she said decidedly. Catching how his mouth opened to correct her, she added, "_Arthur_."

He smiled. "Well you're to blame for that, I think."

"Fighting in a tournament every day for the past week is the blame for that."

"And you're not helping."

"I could go –" Gwen made a move to get off him.

"_No_," he said quickly, his arm tight around her waist. "Just give me a minute to collect my strength."

"Or…" she whispered.

"Or what?"

Gwen sat up and straddled his thighs.

Arthur smiled wider. "I think I might like this idea, Guinevere."

She returned his smile, sliding herself onto him and making him moan. His hands found her hips, holding onto her tightly as she started to move. He shut his eyes tight for a moment, his breath catching in his throat before releasing it and muttering something incoherent.

"Guinevere," he moaned, looking up at her.

"Just lie back and relax, my lord," she whispered, milking a particularly long stroke upward before shoving back down.

Arthur grunted, his grip tightening on her hips even more. Then she saw his eyes follow her hand as it traveled up to her breast.

"Bloody hell, Gwen."

She sighed contently as her hand played with her nipples. "Arthur," she whispered breathlessly.

Gwen was feeling the rise of her climax again, her pace increasing as she got closer and closer. Arthur must have sensed it as well, because he had begun thrusting up into her so that she was losing herself quickly. Before she could even fully realize, he then rolled them onto her back and was pounding into her until she arched against him and screamed. Arthur collapsed a minute later, making sure he landed next to her.

This time, Gwen stood up before she was fully recovered, her legs still shaking as she made her way towards her dress. She could sense his eyes on her back as she pulled on her clothes and hear his breathing even out.

"I was wondering if we might be friends, Guinevere."

She turned, seeing how Arthur had propped himself up on his elbow to watch her. "I wouldn't quite consider this something that friends do."

"No, I mean… when we're not doing… _this_ – are we friends?" he asked with what seemed like utmost sincerity.

Raising her eyebrows at him, she hesitated for a moment. "We have _mutual_ friends. But… I don't think I could quite deem us 'friends.'"

"Well, we could be… you know." His voice turned careful, uncertain. "We don't need to be _great_ friends, just … friends." He shrugged his shoulders.

Gwen wet her lips. "Yes. I suppose we could be," she said carefully.

"Good," he nodded. "So until next year?" he asked, unable to suppress a suggestive smile.

"Oh?" she smiled. "I assumed we were good for the next _two_ years, since I allowed you _two_ extra times after the one this morning."

Arthur jokingly narrowed his eyes. "Now that's not fair. You never informed me of such rules."

Gwen opened her mouth to respond. But then she caught his charming grin and decided if they kept up with teasing each other, she might easily find herself with him for the fourth time that day – which although not unappealing, it was already late and she really shouldn't encourage him any more.

"We'll see," she said seriously. Because there was honestly no knowing what might change within that year that could alter their situation.

"And until then…" he said with a slow nod, "friends?"

"Yes… Friends."

He said nothing for a bit as he studied her, making her wonder what he was thinking and why he kept pressing this 'friends' issue.

"Good night, my lord," she said finally.

"Good night, Guinevere."


End file.

Merlin, Romance