Title: Silver and Cold
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Guinevere, Merlin
Genre:Romance, Angst
Spoilers: Up until 2.12, you could say. Future!Fic.
Disclaimer: Merlin doesn't belong to me. Neither does his cute ears.
Summary: "Arthur needed a second to finally understand she was leaving him. He needed less time to know he could never stand it".
Author's notes: I couldn't stop myself from writing - this idea was so firm in my mind that I was writing this piece in my cellphone when I didn't have any paper close to me. Hope you like it.
Title is based on 'Silver and Cold' song, by AFI.
I was mostly just playing around with Arthurian legends; this short piece is most based on Sir Thomas Malory's 'Le Morte D'Arthur'.
And, unfortunately, this is un-betaed again, so feel free to point ou any mistake you may find :)

Two small notes: The ending is ambiguous, I couldn't decide if it was best to put him or not... but he stayed. And constructive criticism is always welcome!

She stares at the person she has learned to call her best friend.

"You are lying", it's all she says after minutes of silence. Her voice is shocked and insecure.

"I'm not", her friend replies, his blue eyes pleading for her forgiveness. "But, look - He may be wrong, though it has never happened before –"

"He is wrong", she says, ignoring the way he's looking at her. She thinks there's a bit of fear on him." I love him, I wouldn't ever –"

"I know, Gwen. But he doesn't mean today. He means someday".

"Never", she contradicts him, combing her fingers through her hair, nervously. What he had said is so impossible – "Could you – please, Merlin – It's late, I should rest now".

"Of course", he seems disturbed. At the door of her chambers, he turns around, glancing at her. Pleading once more. "I think he is telling in riddle, like always. Doom or betrayal doesn't have to mean –"

"I know exactly what they mean, Merlin", she says sharply, inhaling deeply.

"I just said it so you could prepare yourself", he explains, in a soft voice. "I always thought that if Morgana had known –", he bites his lips, and she looks even more apprehensive. Morgana is an unusual topic these days. "Well, she didn't, but you do now. You are going to be Queen; I know it just by looking at you. And you are going to be a great one".

"Except for the fact that –"

"Yes, except for this", he stops her, sounding urgent. "But you can make the difference. I believe in you". He smiles gently, trying to reassure her. The door closes behind him and she lies down on her bed, Merlin's words repeating on her head.

She closes her eyes; a single tear falls in her bed. That's the first night Guinevere has a nightmare.

The full moon was casting its light peacefully over the kingdom and the streets of Camelot were empty as far as Arthur could see. Still, something didn't feel right that night. He could sense something was going to happen – perhaps it was the cold breeze in the middle of the summer. It was not natural and yet Merlin had said there was no magic involved this time.

The guard at his side gave a long yawning and Arthur turned at him. It was just a boy, he thought, a couple of years younger than Arthur. He smiled kindly to the boy, who was turning a deep shade of scarlet after being caught almost falling asleep.

"You should go home", Arthur advised. The boy murmured something about his shift. "I stay here in your place tonight. It's okay". As the guard still felt insecure, Arthur smiled easily. "I don't think I will sleep tonight".

He didn't need to explain that ever since that cold breeze had started, his dreams were filled with dark images – he never could remember anything in the next morning, but he would wake up with that feeling of hurt and loneliness; as if he had lost something and couldn't remember what it was.

"Thank you", the boy said finally, with a small smile. There was something in his eyes that Arthur had already seen in the eyes of other people he had helped; he liked to think it was simple gratitude, but Merlin would say that was surprise – people were surprised Arthur could be a great man. "My King", the boy added, inclining his head before he turned around and disappeared in the darkness.

Arthur shivered, but this time it had nothing to do with the cold breeze. King. King Arthur. Even after six months, he wasn't used to the title yet. It didn't help, as someone would expect, that he had grown expecting to be called that. Sometimes, he just didn't feel like a king and he wondered when someone was going to point out that Arthur had no idea of what he was doing.

Because I know that one day, you will be King--a greater king than your father could ever be, she had whispered to him in a dream, a very long time ago, and like always, Arthur let the sound of her voice fill the space around him, warming him in a way that made he forget the cold breeze. He thought of her, only her, and the world seemed such a brighter place –

A shadow moved in the grounds. Wondering who was walking around Camelot that night, Arthur took out his sword and started to descend the stairs. The cold breeze had returned.

The shadow was moving fast towards the north exit of Camelot. For a moment, Arthur felt tired and wondered about just letting this person go – perhaps it meant no harm -, but he could feel the weight of his crown in his head. Being a King wasn't easy – and no one was supposed to travel at night without permission. He, along with his council, had decided it thinking of people's safety only and he should guarantee that his law was being executed.

He took the shortest way to the gates of the city. Arthur waited for the shadow, hid by a giant oak tree, until the footsteps came closer. The person stopped just a few steps outside of Camelot, its back to Arthur; he could see that the shadow had its head raised, staring at the castle, as if it needed a final look. Arthur hesitated for two seconds, and then he raised his sword, leaving his hiding place.

"Stop", he ordered, the point of his sword in the back of the shadow. Someone inhaled deeply and he thought it seemed rather familiar. "Now, turn around slowly".

As the shadow did as he had said, its cloak fell back, revealing dark curls Arthur knew all to well. He let the sword down, surprised, as he looked directly in the shade of brown that was his favourite in the world. "Guinevere?"

"My lord", she replied quietly, and Arthur could see she was scanning the place where they were. Then, when she let her eyes fix on his face, Gwen smiled a little, and Arthur relaxed.

"You stopped calling me that a long time ago", he reminded her, a playful tone on his voice.

"Indeed, my – Arthur".

"Better", he gave her his brightest smile, and, as he was expecting her to, Gwen's eyes flashed in the darkness. "Now, could you tell me what is a lady of the council doing out here so late?"

He had implied his words to be cheerfully again, but her expression had turned sober. "What?"

"You know I don't like when you call me that", she whispered, sounding annoyed. He frowned, sheathing his sword, and her eyes followed the movement. For some reason, she looked even more upset.

"We already had this discussion, Guinevere", he answered in the gentler voice he could manage. "You shouldn't be ashamed of being part of the council".

"I'm not, it's just –", she closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, there was a new sadness on them, but her voice was firm. "Oh, please, Arthur. We both know why you named for your council!"

He breathed slowly. That wasn't the first time she had said these words, though never before they had this cold edge on them. "I named you for almost the same reasons I named Merlin", he remarked quietly. "I needed every kind of people if I wanted it to work, no matter where they come from. And I wanted people I could trust – "

She laughed nervously. "Stop it", Gwen said, shaking her head. "Everyone knows the truth: Gaius knows, my neighbour knows, all of your knights know it", she stopped to catch her breath. "The only reason for the King to name a servant part of his council is that he wants to marry her and he can't since she has no title".

She was breathing fast now; Arthur could only stare at her. Their discussions about this topic had never come to this point. He had really thought it was just her usual insecurity that made her feel uncomfortable about her nomination to the council. He wondered how she could be so bright about some things, and, yet, sometimes, not believe she was just as noble as everyone else.

"Guinevere", he started slowly, taking a step closer to her. "I will not deny that my feelings for you were one of the reasons I named you for the council ", he took her hand between his, intertwining their fingers. "But not even for a single second my desire to marry you has influenced my decision. I wanted to marry when we couldn't and I want it now." Arthur kissed her forehead. "But you are there because I love you and above all, I trust you".

And he inclined his head, his lips looking for hers. He heard her soft sigh and for a tiny moment, he had her lips captured by his own; however, before he could feel her sweet taste, she turned her head, avoiding his eyes.

"Maybe you shouldn't", Gwen whispered, her voice so low it seemed more a thought that had escaped.

"Guinevere?", Arthur called her, feeling confused. She released her hand from his and, for the first time since he met her tonight, the coldness returned, making him tremble brusquely.

"Let me go, Arthur", she said, her voice pleading.

"Go where?"

"Just – you should go back to Camelot". She looked at him and there was a desperate urge on her eyes. "We –", she bit her lips, hesitating. "We will talk in the morning".

He knew that expression on her, even though she had never tried to use on him.

"Why are you lying to me, Gwen?", he asked in a perplexed voice.

"I have to go", she answered, her eyes suddenly seeing something distant. "That's all that matters right now, Arthur".

And she started to turn around. He stopped her, grabbing her elbow.

"You are making no sense, Guinevere. Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I don't care. Anywhere as long I'm far away from you".

For a moment, he just stood there, watching the fire reflecting on her hair. She seized the moment to walk away, again in a fast pace – he needed a second to finally understand she was leaving him. He needed less time to know he could never stand it.

"Guinevere", he said, and the sound of her name made her pause again, like a spell. He walked until he was in front of her. Gwen's eyes were red. He thought of a hundred things he wanted to say or do, and decided to do none. "Why?"

"We aren't supposed to be together", she whispered back, her voice shaking as tears dropped from her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows. "If that's because you were a servant, you know it's never mattered to -".

"It's not – ", she hesitated. "How can you be sure, Arthur?", she asked him, in a softer voice. "I've told you before, I cannot be your queen. I don't know how –"

"Believe me, neither do I", Arthur replied, trying to smile. It didn't work.

"But you are doing a fine job. You can do it, you always could –"

"I need you by my side. You know how I can be stupid sometimes, and when you are there I – I'm a better person when I have you, Guinevere. I love how you say what's on your mind, I trust your advice –"

"That's the problem", she stopped him, shaking her head. "Maybe you should not trust me".

He took a step closer to her.

"Why is that?"

She raised her eyes, and they were suddenly full of sadness.

"Because I will betray you". She waited until he could fully understand her words. Arthur froze. "Merlin said – you know how he still talks to that Dragon, and the Dragon told him that one day I – I will be the cause of your fall", Gwen finished in a dead voice, her lips trembling. "I can't – no matter what will cost – I won't be the reason –".

She stopped herself, lowering her head. Her whole body was shaking and before he could even think about it, Arthur took a step closer to her and hold her. Like always, she fit perfectly in his arms, as if she were made to them, and suddenly nothing of what she had said made any sense – because he knew, more than anything, that they were meant to be together. How could something as beautiful and pure as their love be the reason of his doom?

"We shouldn't believe in the Dragon, Guinevere", he whispered to her, in a soothing voice, stroking her hair. "We know how much he hates me, perhaps almost as he did to my father. He just doesn't want to see me happy".

"Merlin –"

" – is a wonderful friend and a powerful wizard, but can be thick enough sometimes". Undisturbed, Arthur kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes briefly.

"There's more", she murmured darkly. "I've been dreaming these last days, ever since Merlin told me – and I know it's true, Arthur", her voice was so low it could be the wind whispering. "There's fire and I'm burning, I'm dying, and still it doesn't hurt. My death doesn't matter because I see you and –", she hesitated, and he felt her tears soaking his shirt. "Then I feel actually hurt. You are safe and far from the fire, but your eyes, they're – there's no life in them. And I know it's my fault, it's all because of me". She swallowed. "In other dreams, I just see your face. There's death again in your eyes and I feel suddenly guilty, I know I have done something unforgivable, something I regret with all my soul –"

"Shhhhh", he enclosed her deeply in his arms. "It's just a nightmare. You were just impressed by what Merlin has told you".

"How can we be sure of it?", she asked in defeated voice.

"Because I love you. I trust what I feel, and right now, I feel you're the best person I've ever known. You are kind and passionate and incapable of doing any evil. That's what I am sure of".

"Arthur – ", she started, and he could her hopeless tone.

Her eyes met his and they just stared at each other. In that few seconds, he could picture the dreams she had described; somehow, it felt like he had already seen those images – he could see Guinevere burning at the stake, and he could feel the frozen air around him, even though the fire was just a few steps away. He could feel his heart breaking, the hurt that no wound could ever do – but there was nothing that Arthur could do to save her; he knew, without anyone needing to tell him, that he was the one that ordered Guinevere to be executed because she deserved it. And he knew, could feel in each one of his bones, that losing her was the same as dying – there were no wish for living anymore; that was the way her treason would make him fall after all. And then the moment was over and he wasn't watching a betrayer burning to death, but Guinevere, the woman he loved and trust with all of his life.

Gently, he separated himself from her. Keeping their eye-contact, he unsheathed his sword, giving it to her. Looking truly surprised, Gwen accepted it.

"Do it", Arthur said quietly. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. "Kill me".

"I – I can't – Never – "

"Yes, you can", he replied nonchalantly. "If you'll betray me someday, then it doesn't matter. If, as you believe, as the Dragon has pronounced, I will die because of you, then why wait?" He opened his arms, standing defenceless in front of her. "Kill me now".

She had started to tremble again. He resisted the urge of hugging her and promise that everything was going to be alright. Slowly, she lifted the sword, a single tear falling from her eye.

"I can't do it", she cried suddenly, falling on the ground. The sword lied at her side. "I would never murder you. Just thinking of it kills me", she raised her eyes to him. They were shining. "I love you so much –"

"As I love you", he replied softly, sitting down at her side. She raised her head and he stroked her face, wiping her tears. "That's enough".

"What if it isn't?"

"It is", he promised, leaning his head; his lips touched hers. He could taste her tears in this kiss, and, above of all, he could taste her desperate hope; it was the same as his.

He stares at her face; she looks peaceful, and he knows that's the last image he wants to keep of her in his head. His gaze feels upon every trace of her, and ignoring the crowd behind him, he raises his hand, touching her face, feeling her.

"You have to do it", she whispers, her eyes fixed on his face as if she wants a last look too.

"I know", he whispers back, his voice dead.

"I know I can't ask for anything, but, please – Live. If not for me – ", she hesitates and suddenly happy and coloured images come to his mind. She had asked him, in another life, to live for her. "And – I know it doesn't matter now, not after – ", she trails off. "But I loved you", she smiles softly. "I love you".

"As I love you", he says, and for a moment, they're a young and merry couple, and the future that lies ahead is bright and beautiful.

And then he turns around and she closes her eyes; the dark night is illuminated by the fire, and yet, all he can feel is the cold air around him.