When In the Woods

A/N: This was created out of my curiosity about what may have happened to Arthur's 'Friends' from the first episode. There were four that were visible, but I'm only going to use three of them, and act as though there was no fourth person, and it was kinda hard to see their faces so I'm kinda making those up too…Uhmm, anyway I wanted to bring them back for a moment, just to see how they interact with Guinevere, and how Arthur would respond.

Guinevere had a very rare day to herself, the Lady Morgana had given her the day off, and she took it eagerly, it was not that she didn't enjoy her job, because she did, it was just that since Morgana's return, she had seemed distant. Gwen was used to Morgana wanting some time to herself every now and again, but never for an entire day. Since Morgana had returned from her year of absence, she hasn't been the same. Guinevere was please that her mistress and friend had returned, virtually unharmed, but she was difference, she wasn't as in tune with Morgana as she used to be, and it was quite unnerving.

Guinevere spent more time lying in bed that morning than she was ever used to, attempting to figure out what she wanted to do for the day. She had cleaned her cottage, it was small, and had taken no time at all, so there wasn't anything in particular that she had to do for the rest of the day. She pulled her thin blanket over her head, and groaned…so much for a day off, she didn't even know what to do with herself. She turned over in her tiny cot of a bed, and a gleam from her dining table caught her eye, she sat up on the bed to get a better look at what it was, throwing back the cover as she did.

It was the tip of the rather intricately designed sword that her father had given her on her a few months before…he was wrongfully executed by Uther's men. She had left it out by accident after cleaning under her bed. He said, ironically enough, that should anything happen to him, that Guinevere should be able to fend for herself, or at the very least had a weapon to do so with. Since her father's death Guinevere has almost been killed by a Dragon, abducted by Heingist's men, and then abducted again by King Cendred's. As one could see, Guinevere was obviously fending for herself quite spectacularly. It wasn't so much that Gwen couldn't wield a sword (the events at Ealdor proved that much); it was just that she only knew the basics; she knew enough to stay alive, she wasn't exactly knight of Camelot material.

Perhaps, Gwen thought, today would be the perfect opportunity to practice. She quickly got out of bed, and changed into her singular pair of trousers and a tan tunic, the ensemble that she often wore on trips away from Camelot, minus the fur throw. The outfit allowed her the freedom of movement that a dress would otherwise restrict. She grabbed her sword, and made her way out of her small, yet homey cottage, down the street through the bustling market, and out into the woods. It was a quiet day, peaceful, and as far as Guinevere could see, there was no one in the forest with her. It was the way she had hoped it would be, there were no distractions of any sort.

She took the sword, and twirled it about her hand as she had seen Arthur do before beginning in any combat. She raised it parallel to her body, and swung level, as hard as she could, letting out a very unbecoming grunt as she did so. She swung left, then right, letting out corresponding grunts. She did a jab above, then one below, and continued on in a similar pattern for the next few minutes. She was attempting to reenact what she had seen the knights do during practice, when she would stare out at the practice field from time to time out of Morgana's window. She was working up a good sweat; surely sweating meant she was doing something right. She pivoted on the ball of her right foot, and was prepared to swing until she saw three men leaning against the tree that was adjacent to her person.

Guinevere dropped the sword out of surprise; it fell into the grass, barley missing her poor feet. She looked again and recognized the faces of the men; they were nobles, or at least the sons of the nobles of Camelot. There was nothing noble about the men; in fact, from what Guinevere had seen, and heard about the men, they were anything but. The one that was standing the closest to her and in front of the other two was Ulric, son of Lord Benedict and Lady Thea. He was the most troublesome of the group, usually the instigator, and he was considered the leader. He was a rather handsome man around the same age or a little older than Guinevere, yet his sour personality negated any coins he may have collected in aesthetics. The other two were brothers, fraternal twins, Rowan and Gavin; they were the sons of Lord Terrowin and Lady Ayleth. They were not as handsome as Ulric, nor was Gavin as cruel as Ulric and his brother, but they were far from being fair.

Guinevere didn't trust any of them. "Can I help you?" She asked none of them in particular. She didn't care who their parents were, you don't just sneak up on someone in the woods, without any justification.

Ulric walked up to her, and bent down to pick up the sword she dropped earlier, she had forgotten about it. He stood up. "I don't know, can you?" He questioned. She stared at him, and he stared at her with a raised eyebrow, and Rowan and Gavin said nothing.

"Are we to assume that it was you making all those noises a few minutes ago?" Ulric questioned. Guinevere blushed, she hadn't realized she was making any particularly loud noises; she was too immersed in practice. He took her blush as a yes. "Such unbecoming noises coming from such a small woman." He said.

"How do you know she's a woman?" Rowan piped, joking about her attire.

"She's definitely a woman." Ulric said looking her up, and down appreciatively eying her breast as her chest was still heaving from the exertion of her workout. While her outfit allowed her movement, she cursed it for being so form fitting, it was quite literally making her sick the way that Ulric was eyeing her, like she was a piece of meat that he was expecting to receive. "What is a beautiful woman like you, doing in the middle of the woods, all alone?" He ran his index finger down the length of her arm, Guinevere jerked it away.

"I don't believe that's any of your business." She said icily.

"I believe I recognize you, aren't you the Lady Morgana's maid? The same one that walks around in that delectable purple dress of yours?" Guinevere wasn't paying attention to Ulric; she was concentrating on her sword in his hands. He saw this, and when she reached for it, he tossed it in the grass beside Rowan, and Rowan picked it up. Guinevere stomped over to Rowan to retrieve what was hers, but when she reached him, he tossed it back to Ulric. Guinevere stood in front of Ulric, glaring a hole into him. She refused to succumb to a childish game of 'monkey in the middle'. She crossed her arms tightly.

"I suggest that you give that back." She said through her teeth.

He took a step closer to her. "Or what?" He whispered. For that she had no response, he was still of noble blood, and she wasn't allowed to threaten him, even under the given circumstance, let alone pull through with any rash action. He was twice the size of her anyway, and he had her sword, she couldn't fight him in hand-to-hand combat, she had absolutely no experience with that. She sighed. He smiled. "Precisely. Now, I could give you you're sword back, of course there would be provisions of sorts, compensations…" He grabbed her face in hand rather forcefully, and turned it towards his. She tried not to look in his eyes, but it was hard not to, they were filled with a look she knew to be lust for all she's heard of it. "Perhaps a warmed bed is in order…" His face was inching closer and closer to hers.

"Perhaps you better give her the damn sword and step the hell away from her." Hissed a voice emerging form the trees, Guinevere almost sagged in relief as she recognized its owner, and Ulric let go of her face.

Prince Arthur came into view, with a sword clenched tightly in his hand, he looked furious, and like a cobra, coiled and ready to strike. Ulric gave her the sword without hesitation. "Guinevere?" She walked over to Arthur, her savior, her love, oh too happily. He pulled her behind him possessively, glaring at Ulric as he did so.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Arthur asked, with a fire in his eyes that Guinevere had never seen before, giving her a tingle at the crest between her legs.

"Arthur, old friend, how have you been?" Ulric asked with a fake smile.

"I'll ask you the question again, what-the bloody-hell-did-you-think-you-were-doing?" Arthur growled, enunciating each word.

"I wouldn't have touched her if I knew that she belonged to you." Ulric ignored the question, and opted for ignorance.

"She doesn't don't belong to me, or anyone else for that matter." Arthur hissed.

"That's obviously why you're protecting her." Ulric said beginning to become irritated.

"I am a Knight of Camelot, as well as its Prince. It is my duty as both a Knight and Camelot's future Sovereign, to protect the Honour of a woman." Was Arthur's tart reply.

"When did you become so concerned about the future? What happened to the old, fun-loving Arthur?" Ulric shot out.

"He grew-up, unlike you. What's the matter with you harassing poor women in the middle of the forest!" Arthur turned on Rowan and Gavin, "And you two were just going to stand there and let him!" At least they had the nerve to look sheepish. "You make me sick, the lot of you! If I ever see, or hear about you touching Guinevere or so much as look at her the wrong way, I can promise you, that I will run you clear through with a sword wherever you may stand at the moment. That goes for any woman. I suggest you get out of my sight, I have half a mind to kill you now!" They didn't need to be told twice, they scurried away almost tripping over each other's heels, neither wanting to feel the fury of Prince Arthur.

When they were gone from sight, Arthur turned around to face Guinevere. Shooting question after question.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm-"

"Did they harm you in any way?"

"No-"

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"ARTHUR" That got his attention, he stared cow-eyed at her outburst. She blushed maroon.

"I'm fine, really." He kissed her then, claiming her lips as his, all of her as his. He lied to Ulric; she did belong to him. He pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around her, quite possessive indeed. She hugged him back in equal measure

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes."

"100%"

"ARTHUR! You're spending too much time around Merlin." She muttered against his chest.

"I agree, though I am really worried about you."

"I told you I was fine, thank you for the help. I feel as though I am becoming quite the damsel."

"Makes my job a lot easier."

"My own personal Knight in shining armor" Guinevere chuckled, as did Arthur, and she could feel it resound in his chest. They stood in companionable silence for a while, his chin perched above her mess of curls, until he pulled back. "What, pray tell, were you doing in the woods with a sword in the first place?"

"I was practicing to defend myself in incidents such as these." She replied.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked, pulling her back to him.

"Not so well apparently."

"Maybe you need a mentor. Someone to train you like a real Knight." Arthur suggested.

"Oh really?" Gwen asked.

"Yes really."

"Do you know anyone in particular." She grinned knowingly.

"I may know someone…" He smirked.

A/N: That just seemed like a good place to end it, there was no beta, and it is now 3:22 in the morning, damn muses don't want to ever want to be convenient! If you read please review, I never get many no matter how hard I try...O_o…