AN: So I'm fairly new to the Merlin fandom, I've actually heard of the show when it came out in '08 but never had the time to watch it, but a few weeks ago while randomly flipping through the channels I caught the last twenty minutes of it and decided to give it a go and watched all four series almost in a marathon fashion (pretty much ignoring almost everything I had to do) and now I'm hooked and an avid Arthur and Gwen fan, and I love Angel Coulby as Gwen, and come on Bradley and Colin are not bad to look at either! Anyway I decided to write this while waiting for series 5 to come on this fall. I'm not particularly good at one shots but I've recently have been giving it a try (though this will be a very long one-shot since it has the whole story East of the Sun and West of the Moon is in this fic!) and I wanted to write something about that comment Arthur made to Gwen when she went to comfort him and said what happened between them was a moment of weakness. Just a thought on what might have happened after the reuniting embrace.

East of the Sun and West of the Moon by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe. I realize that the story East of the Sun and West of the Moon was written after the Arthurian times, but I was going more for the subtle connections to the story with the love Gwen feels for Arthur and so it will be summarized version-Well the first quarter I summarized and the rest is really copy and paste since I thought I couldn't ruin it by summarizing it. I suppose I just liked the tittle really. Also I rushed the romance because I imagine there probably wasn't much romance there.

Please excuse the spelling and grammar as this was not Beta proofed. Anyway I hope that you guys can enjoy it and please review!

Summary: What really happened between Arthur and Guinevere in Ealdor that night?

East of the Sun and West of the Moon

But don't you remember?
Don't you remember?
The reason you loved me before,
Baby, please remember me once more

When was the last time you thought of me?
Or have you completely erased me from your memory?
I often think about where I went wrong,
The more I do, the less I know

Don't You Remember by Adele

"I've missed you." she said softly, her heart pounding in her ear, expectations constricting her throat. But on the outside she was still calm and collective as she appeared to everyone almost all the time.

"And I you." those words broke the breath she didn't realize she was holding and her eyes softened, opening to him, she hoped that he could see just how much she hated herself for what she'd done to him, and even now she was confused as to what had led to that shameful night. But she acknowledged her wrong doing and she accepted that she'd have to bear the consequences for the rest of her life. But hearing him say those words gave her hope, gave her heart a start kick beat and she felt like she had come alive again after all these weeks without him.

He almost didn't believe his eyes, there she was looking just as enchanting as she's always been to him. The light of the few candles casting a glow about her. He was exhausted after everything that's happened, that would explain this image of her, for it couldn't really be her sitting there looking warm, inviting, and broken. He'd thought of her all the time, and it wasn't a surprise for him to dream of her, or a moment they had shared etched into his mind-his heart, for he'd done it all those times he fell asleep at his desk. He had to touch her to be sure that he was in fact awake.

She watched nervously as he tried to sit up, she didn't know what to do, the last time they'd seen each other he could barely stand the sight of her, and with good reason after he'd witnessed her breaking her vows. She saw herself there over and over again screaming at herself to stop, to think of the man she really loved, but each time she'd done that heinous act of betrayal. Blinking away the tears that threatened to fall she attempted to smile, she wouldn't let him feel that she was trying to use her tears against him. But she didn't succeed in the smile, only the conflicting emotions ran across her features, dancing like dark creatures with the help of the candle light.

When he'd managed half way she met him the other half. The contact just as reviving and thrilling as the first time he'd kissed her, only this time there were no perplexing feelings to sort through. He knew how he felt about her, he understood now what power she had over his heart. He pulled her tighter against him and buried his face in her neck, and took in her scent, let the cushion of her hair engulf him, pressing his lips to her warm skin. She was real. The thought prompting him to pull her even close against him, feeling her arms tighten around him, her fingers brushing his bare back. He sighed.

She didn't know how to breathe then, not for worry but from the overwhelming feeling of relief, of gratefulness, of anything that led him to fall onto her. She had loved him for all these years and realized this time apart from him that she'd love him a hundred more if possible, she'd do anything for him. Even if that meant never seeing him again. She'd do anything to right the wrong she'd done him. This moment though she could feel his grip tighten and felt her eyes prickle with tears.

He exhaled into her skin and slowly let her go, to look at her again. He saw so much in her eyes, saw the tremble of her lips. Her lips, he hadn't kissed her in weeks, and he'd missed that. He'd missed her touch, her soft eyes, he'd missed her beyond words. Reaching a hand slowly to touch the side of her face, he wondered if he'd ever feel this way about another woman. He watched as her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist and she kissed the palm of his hand. She had such tenderness to her. So she was here this whole time, here, when he was back in Camelot thinking that she could not be found.

"You should rest, your wounds need time to heal, and I'm afraid we don't know how much time there is to rest." she said softly holding his hand in hers.

He couldn't speak, just simply laid back down and watched her. Would she leave now that he's here? Would she follow his commend? He supposed she already broke that commend by being here now, his Guinevere always defiant for just cause. But he was glad for it, he needed to see her, he needed to know that she was safe, that she was alive. She gave him strength, Merlin gave him wisdom, and what did he bring into all that? He knew how doubt worked, how infectious it was and he was his own worst enemy at times.

"Everything will work out." she whispered softly.

He almost laughed at her optimism, but he was exhausted, he felt defeated. "How do you know?"

"Because I believe in you Arthur, and because I know you will fight for Camelot." She gave him that smile that she had every time he was riding off to war, that smile that said I will be waiting for you to return, the smile that he kept close to his mind when he felt weak.

"Guinevere..."

She shook her head, "get some sleep."

"Stay." Was all he could muster, and when she nodded, he felt relief wash over him that he hadn't felt since she'd left, closing his eyes he let the weight of everything drown him in sleep.

He woke with a start breathing hard and feeling panicked. "Arthur...sshh, you're okay." She said as she placed her cool hand on his chest, he looked up at her, finally. She pulled away and grabbed a goblet and handed to him, "here drink this."

The cool liquid calming his dry throat and raging heart, when he'd downed the whole goblet, she took it from his hands gently. She was always so gentle, so graceful, it sometimes amazed him how she was a blacksmith's daughter, a handmaid yet had this nobleness about her. She tentatively reached to brush back some hair from his damp forehead. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation, but it was gone in seconds and she was moving again. He just wanted to her to stay put and be close. As if she'd read his thoughts she moved to the head of the bed and sat next to his pillow, he watched her settle and then she placed her hands in her lap. He moved without hesitation.

"Let me tell you a tale." she whispered as she leaned against the wall, his head in her lap. Her fingers slowly running through the golden strands. "There once was a poor peasant who had so many children he had neither enough food or clothes to give to them."

He listened, her soft voice calming him, if not her wisdom, her voice was soothing to him he realized. Not having her around and calling his name after he returned to the castle was almost as lonely as being alone on a quest.

"Pretty children they all were, but the prettiest of them all was his youngest daughter, so lovely that there was no end to her loveliness."

He smiled, he'd once said she was lovely and in her humbleness she'd told him that she knew not whom he spoke of. "One day-on an evening late into the fall, the weather outside was wild and rough, and it was harrowingly dark. The rain was falling and wind was blowing, rattling the little cottage."

Her fingers worked magic in his hair, he felt relaxed, her hands were so graceful, though they showed the signs of her life as a servant, they were still soft and tender, like all of her. "They were all busy around the fire doing this or that, then suddenly there was three taps on the window. The man went out to see who it was, and there stood a great big white bear."

He looked up at her than with an arched eyebrow, was she telling him a children's tale? She smiled down at him as she continued, "Good evening to you, said the white bear, the same to you said the father, will you give me your youngest daughter and in exchange I will make you as rich as you are now poor."

"Well the man would not be at all sorry to be rich, but he thought he should talk with his daughter first. So he went inside and told his family about the great big white bear and how he will make them rich if only he could have his youngest daughter."

He watched her the whole time, there this sadness in her eyes, he wondered what/ if anything had happened other than her banishment. He had so many questions and no way of asking them. "The girl said 'no' outright, and nothing would change her mind. The man went to the white bear and told him to return a week from then. In that time he tried to convince his daughter of how in her doing this they would all live better, and she even better. Finally the girl agreed."

"Sounds like a hard choice for the girl." he finally said softly.

"It's never easy to leave the ones you love, Arthur. But sometimes you must for the greater good." she said watching his eyes look into her, but she didn't give him a chance to speak as she continued with her story. "So when the great white bear came for her she climbed on to his back and left with him. They rode long, long, away until they reached a steep cliff. He took her to a grand palace, the bear gave her a silver bell and all she had to do was ring it once and she'd get whatever she wanted. She was given everything she could ever want, and every night after she'd blow out the light go to bed, a man would come lie next to her, it was the white bear who cast of his pelt at night."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, the amusement apparent on his lips, but she continued, "but she never saw him, as she rose before she did and went to bed after her. Things went happily for a while, after several moons had past the bear noticed she was sad and quiet. He asked why, and she told him of her loneliness, of how she missed her family. So the bear told her that he'd let her visit, but she must not be alone with her mother, and she must not tell her of her life with him. She promised, for she could never betray the one whose given her so much."

He shifted and winced from the pain, she stopped and her hand landed where his was resting. "Are you alright?" Stupid question she knew since he most likely had a couple of broken ribs, but she didn't know what else to say.

He looked at her and gave a weak smile, he'd seen that look on her face enough to know she was trying to think of ways to make him feel better, "I'm fine. Continue."

She looked unsure but after a moment she resumed, "So off they went on the journey back to her family. At last they came to a grand house, and the bear told her that was where her family lived now, that he'd given them all he's promised. He reminded her of her promise and told her not to say anything for that would make them both very unhappy. Heavens forbid she had not forgotten, when they reached the door, the bear left her there."

He closed his eyes for a moment, listen to the night, and the flicker of the candle and the sound of Guinevere's voice. He took such comfort in her voice, he supposed he hadn't realized all the things about her that he liked, no needed, until she wasn't there anymore. Turned his face into her belly, taking in her scent once again, committing to memory as if that alone would be enough. He knew it wouldn't be.

"Her family was over joyed with her visit, they thanked her over and over again for all she's done for them, and finally they asked her how she was doing. She told them that it was good to live where she did, that she had everything she desired. That afternoon they ate dinner together, everything happened as the white bear had told her it would. Her mother wanted to speak to her alone, but she remembered the white bear and put it off, at last her mother found her alone and asked her again of how she was, and she told the whole story of how during the day he was a white bear but at night after she'd blown out the light he would lie next to her as a man."

"Are you telling me a child's tale?" he mumbled eyes still closed.

She chuckled, "it's meant to sooth you, and by the sounds of it, it maybe working."

His lips curved, "continue on."

"Oh dear her mother had said, it very well maybe a troll you are sleeping with! Now I will offer you some good advice, she said. I'll give you a candle stub, which you can carry home in your bosom; just light it while he is asleep, but be careful not to drop any tallow on him, her mother instructed. She took the candle stub and hid it in her bosom and that night the white bear came and took her away."

"Did the bear not smell the candle wax on her?" he found himself asking.

Guinevere looked down at him and smiled, "no" she simply said and carried on. "But when they had gone a piece, the white bear asked if all hadn't happened as he had said. She couldn't deny that it had.

Take care, said he, if you have listened to your mother's advice, you will bring bad luck on us both, and it will be finished with the two of us. No, by no means would she heed her mother's advice. So when she reached home, and had gone to bed, it was the same as before. A man came and lay down beside her; but in the middle of the night, when she heard that he was fast asleep, she got up and lit the candle. She let the light shine on him, and saw that he was the most handsome prince one ever set eyes on. She fell so deeply in love with him, that she thought she couldn't live if she didn't give him a kiss at once. And so she did, but as she kissed him she let three drops of hot tallow drip onto his shirt, and he woke up."

"She could not heed his warning?" Arthur asked incredulously, brows knit together like a child once again.

Guinevere ran two fingers over his brows smoothing, them, letting her finger trace around his eyes. "What have you done? he cried; now you have made us both unlucky, for had you held out only this one year, I would have been free! I have a stepmother who has bewitched me, so that I am a white bear by day, and a man by night. But now all ties are broken between us. Now I must leave you for her. She lives in a castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and there, too, is a princess, one with a nose three yards long, and now I will have to marry her. She cried and grieved, but there was no help for it; he had to go. Then she asked if she could go with him. No, she could not. Tell me the way, then she said, so I can look for you; surely I may do that. Yes, she could do that, but there was no way leading to the place. It lay east of the sun and west of the moon, and she'd never find her way there."

She stopped suddenly, he looked up at her and saw the tears she was trying to fight back, it finally occurred to him the significance of this tale, and he was at loss for words, he didn't know how to console her and he didn't know that he wanted to. A few minutes passed and she finally blinked away the glassiness from her eyes and smiled. She was too strong, he'd admired her strength, and at times he detested it. She could hid so easily while he could not.

"The next morning, when she woke up, both the prince and the castle were gone, and she was lying on a little green patch, in the midst of the thick, dark forest, and by her side lay the same bundle of rags she had brought with her from her old home. When she had rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and cried until she was tired, she set out on her way, and walked many, many days, until she came to a high cliff. An old woman sat under it, and played with a golden apple which she tossed about. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the prince, who lived with his stepmother in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and who was to marry the princess with a nose three yards long. How did you come to know about him? asked the old woman. Maybe you are the girl who should have had him? The old woman asked. Yes, she was."

"Guinevere..." he was silenced by her finger to his lips.

"So, so; it's you, is it? said the old woman. Well, all I know about him is, that he lives in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, and that you'll get there too late or never; but still you may borrow my horse, and you can ride him to my next neighbor. Maybe she'll be able to tell you; and when you get there just give the horse a switch under the left ear, and beg him to be off home. And you can take this golden apple along with you. So she got on the horse, and rode a long, long time, until she came to another cliff, under which sat another old woman, with a golden carding comb. The girl asked her if she knew the way to the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon, and she answered, like the first old woman, that she knew nothing about it, except that it was east of the sun and west of the moon. And you'll get there too late or never; but you can borrow my horse to my next neighbor; maybe she'll tell you all about it; and when you get there, just switch the horse under the left ear, and beg him to be off for home."

He wondered many nights what had happened to her, if she was well, if she was safe. He knew when he banished her that she had no where to go and the kind of danger he was putting her in. He had told her he didn't wish her dead, but the truth was, he couldn't watch her die, he couldn't be the one to kill her, but out there something might take her from him. He felt sick with guilt when he thought about what he'd done. Ironically he felt guilt, Merlin saw it as rage, as avoidance, but really he felt sick with himself for knowingly putting her in harms way. He wanted to know how she made it to Ealdor, was she here the whole time? How did she lose the ring she took the trouble to string around a piece of leather cord? He'd seen the way Merlin's eyes scanned the forest that day, his worried eyes searching for something-someone. Was it Merlin who brought her here? So many questions, yet he didn't know how to ask them. Listening to her tale now made him realize that the journey she'd taken to make amends, to abide by his law was a long and dangerous one.

"This old woman gave her the golden carding comb; she might find some use for it, she said. So the girl got up on the horse, and again rode a long, long way. At last she came to another great cliff, under which sat another old woman, spinning with a golden spinning wheel. She asked her, as well, if she knew the way to the prince, and where the castle was that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But it was the same thing over again. Perhaps you are the one who should have had the prince? said the old woman. Yes, that she was. But she didn't know the way any better than the other two. She knew it was east of the sun and west of the moon, but that was all. And you'll get there too late or never; but I'll lend you my horse, and then I think you'd best ride to the east wind and ask him; maybe he knows his way around those parts, and can blow you there."

"How did you get to Ealdor?" he finally asked.

Guinevere sighed, "you know I can't very well finish the tale if you insist on interrupting me, sire."

"I asked a question, Guinevere." he said firmly.

"Arthur, what does it matter how I came here?" she asked. "I'm here all the same."

He looked hurt, sadden at her answer, she didn't know how troubled he was by the thought of her roaming the woods alone. "I just want to know that, no harm came to you."

She wanted to laugh, but now wasn't the time for sad laughter or realizing the irony of the situation. "Let me finish my tale, and if after you still want to know, I shall tell you."

He gave a weak nod, and she resumed her work in his hair, as well as with her words. "She too gave her her golden spinning wheel. Maybe you'll find a use for it, said the old woman. She rode many weary days, before she got to the east wind's house, but at last she did reach it, and she asked the east wind if he could tell her the way to the prince who lived east of the sun and west of the moon. Yes, the east wind had often heard tell of it, the prince and the castle, but he didn't know the way there, for he had never blown so far."

"But, if you want, I'll go with you to my brother the west wind. Maybe he knows, for he's much stronger. If you will just get on my back I'll carry you there. Yes, she got on his back, and off they went in a rush. When they arrived at the west wind's house, the east wind said the girl he had brought was the one who was supposed to have had the prince who lived in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon. She had set out to find him, and he had brought her here, and would be glad to know if the west wind knew how to get to the castle. No, said the west wind, I've never blown so far; but if you want, I'll go with you to our brother the south wind, for he's much stronger than either of us, and he has flown far and wide. Maybe he'll tell you. Get on my back, and I'll carry you to him. Yes, she got on his back, and so they traveled to the south wind, and I think it didn't take long at all. When they got there, the west wind asked him if he could tell her the way to the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon, for she was the one who was supposed to have had the prince who lived there."

Would she have done that for him? Arthur wondered, and was once again reminded of Merlin's words. No one would sacrifice more for Camelot or you than Gwen, those words haunted him because he knew it to be true, yet she had betrayed him. Her betrayal confused him because of her loyal nature, but he supposed everyone was capable of making choices, and mistakes.

"Is that so? said the south wind. Is she the one? Well, I have visited a lot of places in my time, but I have not yet blown there. If you want, I'll take you to my brother the north wind; he is the oldest and strongest of us all, and if he doesn't know where it is, you'll never find anyone in the world to tell you. Get on my back, and I'll carry you there. Yes, she got on his back, and away he left his house at a good clip. They were not long underway. When they reached the north wind's house he was so wild and cross, that he blew cold gusts at them from a long way off. Blast you both, what do you want? he roared at them from afar, so that it struck them with an icy shiver. Well, said the south wind, you don't need to bluster so, for here I am, your brother, the south wind, and here is the girl who was supposed to have had the prince who lives in the castle that lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and now she wants to ask you if you ever were there, and can show her the way, for she wants so much to find him again."

She could tell from the puzzled look on his face, that he was thinking about something. Most likely what she'd done, why she'd done it. Not even she knew, how could he, she couldn't forgive herself, how could he? But she continued, because that's all she could do, keep going with memories to warm her heart. "Yes, I know where it is, said the north wind; a single time I blew an aspen leaf there, but afterward I was so tired that I couldn't blow a puff for many days. But if you really wish to go there, and aren't afraid to come along with me, I'll take you on my back and see if I can blow you there. Yes, with all her heart; she wanted to and had to get there if it were at all possible; and she wouldn't be afraid, however madly he went. Very well, then, said the north wind, but you must sleep here tonight, for we must have the whole day before us, if we're to get there at all. Early next morning the north wind woke her, and puffed himself up, and blew himself out, and made himself so stout and big. that he was gruesome to look at. Off they went high up through the air, as if they would not stop until they reached the end of the world."

"Guinevere..." he tried again.

Guinevere looked at him then and waited for him to speak. He could tell that she was annoyed, that she didn't want to speak of her journey. "What do you want to know Arthur?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know." She honestly didn't so what would she say to him? What did he expect from her? What did he want from her?

"When did you arrive here in Ealdor?" he asked trying to piece together all the places she's been.

"A week ago." She said softly, "before that I was living in another village north of here."

"Why did you leave?" he asked.

Guinevere thought back to the village being raided by Helios and his men, about being his captive, of escaping, of Morgana, her once friend turned enemy. "The village was raided."

He expected this yet hearing it didn't help that guilt he felt. "What happened?" he found himself ask again.

She sighed and looked away, her body suddenly stone, "I was taken captive, to be a mistress. Please Arthur, it doesn't matter now, I'm safe here in Ealdor."

His blood boiled but the anger was towards himself, he wanted to kill the bastard who thought he could claim her, no one had that right, then the thought that she could've been forced upon entered his mind and all he saw was red. "Did he touch you?"

Guinevere could hear the calmness in his voice, it was the sound that quiet rage. She didn't know if she should be over joyed or sadden by this revelation. "No, he didn't get a chance. I escaped." She didn't want to share her run in with Morgana, even after all that she's done, she didn't want Arthur to hate her. "Will you let me finish now?" He nodded.

"Here on earth there was a terrible storm; acres of forest and many houses were blown down, and when it swept over the sea, ships wrecked by the hundred. They tore on and on - no one can believe how far they went - and all the while they still went over the sea, and the north wind got more and more weary, and so out of breath he could barely bring out a puff, and his wings drooped and drooped, until at last he sunk so low that the tops of the waves splashed over his heels. Are you afraid? said the north wind. No, she wasn't."

Arthur was reminded of a moment long ago when he'd asked her the very question, the moment when he saw her courage, her strength, and her. It didn't surprise him that she was able to escape, he knew her to be a capable woman. But he knew she wasn't telling him everything, and it was about a week ago that he found their betrothal ring on the forest ground.

"They weren't very far from land by now, and the north wind had enough strength left that he managed to throw her up on the shore under the windows of the castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But then he was so weak and worn out, that he had to stay there and rest many days before he could go home again. The next morning the girl sat down under the castle window, and began to play with the golden apple. The first person she saw was the long-nosed princess who was to have the prince. What do you want for your golden apple, you girl? said the long-nosed one, as she opened the window. It's not for sale, for gold or money, said the girl."

"If it's not for sale for gold or money, what is it that you will sell it for? You may name your own price, said the princess. Well, you can have it, if I may get to the prince, who lives here, and be with him tonight, said the girl whom the north wind had brought. Yes, that could be done. So the princess took the golden apple; but when the girl came up to the prince's bedroom that night, he was fast asleep. She called him and shook him, and cried and grieved, but she could not wake him up. The next morning. as soon as day broke, the princess with the long nose came and drove her out."

"That day she sat down under the castle windows and began to card with her golden carding comb, and the same thing happened. The princess asked what she wanted for it. She said it wasn't for sale for gold or money, but if she could have permission to go to the prince and be with him that night, the princess could have it. But when she went to his room she found him fast asleep again, and however much she called, and shook, and cried, and prayed, she couldn't get life into him. As soon as the first gray peep of day came, the princess with the long nose came, and chased her out again."

"That day the girl sat down outside under the castle window and began to spin with her golden spinning wheel, and the princess with the long nose wanted to have it as well. She opened the window and asked what she wanted for it. The girl said, as she had said twice before, that it wasn't for sale for gold or money, but if she could go to the prince who was there, and be alone with him that night she could have it. Yes, she would be welcome to do that. But now you must know that there were some Christians who had been taken there, and while they were sitting in their room, which was next to the prince's, they had heard how a woman had been in there, crying, praying, and calling to him for two nights in a row, and they told this to the prince."

"That evening, when the princess came with a sleeping potion, the prince pretended to drink it, but threw it over his shoulder, for he could guess it was a sleeping potion. So, when the girl came in, she found the prince wide awake, and then she told him the whole story of how she had come there. Ah, said the prince, you've come in the very nick of time, for tomorrow is to be our wedding day. But now I won't have the long-nose, and you are the only woman in the world who can set me free. I'll say that I want to see what my wife is fit for, and beg her to wash the shirt which has the three spots of tallow on it. She'll agree, for she doesn't know that you are the one who put them there. Only those of pure heart, and not such a pack of trolls, can wash them out again. I'll say that I will marry only the woman who can wash them out, and ask you to try it."

Arthur smiled, of course she had to do some washing, this was a story about a poor man's daughter and a prince. He listened as the tale bore to a close, realizing that his mind had been soothed despite all the thoughts that lurked there.

"So there was great joy and love between them all the night. But next day, when the wedding was planned, the prince said, First of all, I'd like to see what my bride is fit for. Yes! said the stepmother, with all her heart. Well, said the prince, I've got a fine shirt which I'd like for my wedding shirt, but somehow or other it got three spots of tallow on it, which I must have washed out. I have sworn to marry only the woman who is able to do that. If she can't, then she's not worth having."

"Well, that was no big thing they said, so they agreed, and the one with the long nose began to wash away as hard as she could, but the more she rubbed and scrubbed, the bigger the spots grew. Ah! said the old troll woman, her mother, you can't wash. Let me try. But she had hardly touched the shirt, before it got far worse than before, and with all her rubbing, and wringing, and scrubbing, the spots grew bigger and blacker, and the shirt got ever darker and uglier. Then all the other trolls began to wash, but the longer it lasted, the blacker and uglier the shirt grew, until at last it was as black all over as if it been up the chimney."

"Ah! said the prince, none of you is worth a straw; you can't wash. Why there, outside, sits a beggar girl, I'll bet she knows how to wash better than the whole lot of you. Come in, girl! he shouted. She came in. Can you wash this shirt clean, girl, you? he said. I don't know, she said, but I think I can. And almost before she had taken it and dipped it into the water, it was as white as driven snow, and whiter still. Yes, you are the girl for me, said the prince. At that the old troll woman flew into such a rage, she exploded on the spot, and the princess with the long nose after her, and the whole pack of trolls after her - at least no one ever heard a word about them since."

"As for the prince and princess, they set free all the poor humans who had been captured and shut up there; and they took with them all the silver and gold, and flew away as far as they could from the castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon." she finished smiling at him. "There my lord, I'm finally done."

"She must have loved him quite a bit to travel so far to find him." he said softly.

Guinevere smiled sadly down at him, "She'd do anything to get back to him, she'd travel the whole world again if it meant she could be at his side."

He turned to look up at her then. "Why then did she betray him?"

She bit her lip, "I don't know, because she was being foolish, she felt pulled, but her heart was always with the prince."

He reached to push back a curl behind her ear, "for she is the one who is supposed to have the prince. There can only be her..."

She looked into his blue eyes and felt her heart tremble, she felt the water that blurred her vision and felt the need pool within her, she lowered her head and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was meant to be chaste, a good-bye kiss that she never received, and thought she'd steal it before he realized that she was there, and his disgust came back. But he'd turned his head and captures her lips fully. His hand had snuck around the back of her neck holding her in place, as he slowly rose to a sitting position.

Her gasp opened her lips to him, and he took all that he could, letting his tongue taste her, feel her battle him with her own. When he finally pulled away, she looked dazed, his hand slowly moved from the back of her neck to her jaw, his thumb brushed her cheek, and she closed her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time it was slow and chaste. It was like the kiss he had given her the first time. Unsure of what he really was doing, wondering if he'd gone mad, and then his lips touched hers and all thoughts where lost and suddenly the most overwhelming feeling coursed through him. He hadn't understood at that moment just how much in love with her he already was.

Her hands shyly touched his chest, where his heart was beating fast. She pulled away from that kiss, and opened her eyes slowly, those orbs of earth shining. She'd looked at him with love many time for him to know what that look in her eyes were now. She did love him, he knew that, but he couldn't explain what had happened, what she had done, why she'd done it.

"I'd go to every corner of the earth to get back to you, Arthur." she said gently as he traced the lines of her palm.

"I know." he said as he pulled her closer, the pain that the movement caused was nothing compared to what he knew was on the way, but at least he had this one last moment with her. The thought was sad and almost tragically romantic.

He expected her to give him her speech about what a great king he was, and how he'd get through this and be the man she knew him to be, yet he found without her, he didn't know what kind of man he was. He knew his duty to his people, he understood difficult choices had to be made, his life was to be viewed in an utilitarian fashion. Yet when he needed the extra push, there were times when even Merlin's advice wasn't enough. He ran his fingers through her curls, felt her warmth. He'd known from the moment when he'd picked up the ring he'd given her that she would always haunt his heart, she wouldn't let anyone else reign there. She was truly the queen of his heart.

Turning his lips to her warm soft skin he kissed her neck, she gasped as he remembered. A small smile pulled at his lips, he knew her like no other, and she him. Working his way up the column of her neck to the back of her ear, she arched closer and inviting him to continue, her hands running almost torturously slow on his skin. This was his Guinevere, not the woman he found in the arms of another man. His hand which rested on her waist squeezed her tight and she pushed herself towards him his head buried in her neck. He knew her.

Doubt was infectious really, and having seen what he saw with his own eyes the doubt in Guinevere was deep rooted. He couldn't trust her, but he couldn't trust his heart not to love her. Because he did love her, with all of his heart and soul. He pulled back from her lips and looked into her eyes again, there it shone, the love that he felt before those minutes that broke it all from him, he kissed her hard, bruising, punishing really. Their kisses had grown from the soft chaste one that he'd given her in her humble cottage to those of passion over the time they'd been together. He knew the taste of her like he knew the taste of a celebrated wine. His tongue now took, teased, tasted every bit of her mouth. The warmth here spread through him like wild fire and he was burning with need for her, he always had whenever she was near. He wasn't an innocent man, before Gunievere fell into his heart and stole it he'd been with a few ladies, after all he was prince of Camelot they all wanted a piece of him. He took what was given to him and said no apologies or thank you. It wasn't until that kiss he shared with Morgana's handmaiden that he truly felt a spark run through his veins.

He wanted to consume her, pull her and make her physically a part of himself if that were possible, for she was already a part of him in spirit. Her sighs and need for air made him release her and look at her again. Her eyes were still closed fluttering to open, her full lips were now a blushing pink, her cheeks flamed and he was the cause of it all. He let his hand run down her graceful neck to her collar to where he felt her heart racing, at the swell of her breasts. They had ventured far a few time while she was still in Camelot, but never to the point where her virtue would be questioned. It was as if she read his mind as she guided his hand over a breast, looking into his eyes with trust.

She knew that she couldn't hope that he'd forgive her over night, or ever for her betrayal, yet she wanted to give him something to remember her by, she wanted him to have this night as much she as she wanted it. Because she knew that no man would ever win her heart again. Because she knew they needed this night, if it were going to be their last, and her virtue was his from the moment he'd first kissed her. Her heart raced even harder if that was possible and heat pooled between her legs. When she felt his hand brush the side before he cupped her left breast in his large warm hand, her body responded, she leaned towards the warmth and gasped at his touch.

No man had ever touched her like this, he was sure of that, whatever it was that he witness that night, he knew somewhere in his heart that, Lancelot never touched her in this way, never made her gasp and moan this way. Dipping his head, he kissed the opening of her tunic. Her skin soft and inviting, his hands trailed down from her breast back to her waist and under her tunic where he could feel her stomach. Pushing the material further up, his fingers brushing the skin ever slowly. His eyes were on hers the entire time. When he finally pulled the garment away from her, his breath caught at the sight of her. Many nights he dreamt of what making love to Guinevere would be like, what she's look without any cloth covering her from his eyes, and now seeing her sitting there proud, bare from the waist up with complete trust in her eyes, he knew his dreams paled in comparison.

She waited for him to guide her, for him to let her touch him, feel him. And when he leaned forward to claim her lips, she felt the heat surge through her as her bare skin touched his, her nipples hardening at the contact of his chest, she wanted to wait for him to lead her but in that moment she lost herself in him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers buried themselves in his hair, and her lips took as much from him as he did from her. She knew his passion, she'd known form the moment his lips touched her all those years ago, but this is what she saw when she dreamt of him.

Somewhere in that kiss she was straddling his hips her heat pushing into his hardness, he push against her harder, they pulled away feverishly placing kisses on each, her fingers pulling his hair when he grazed a particularly sensitive part of her neck, all the while trying to get closer. She completely lost her train of thought when his mouth found a harden peak of her nipple. She threw her head back holding his shoulder tight for support, she gasped and whispered his name.

"Arthur..."

"Arthur..."

It was like music to his ear as she moaned his name softly, he suckled greedily, nothing tasted sweeter. He pushed her on her back never breaking contact from her skin. His hand went to work caressing her, feeling every bit of exposed skin. Closing his eyes when her lips kissed his neck and then found his lips again. Her hand trailing over his chest with care before landing on his trousers. Breaking the kiss he looked at her than where her hand held him, and he heard himself gasp. The look on her face was all he needed before it became a frenzy to release her and himself of their clothes. When he finally gazed upon her, he was suddenly filled with something primitive.

This night was about possession for him, he needed to conquer her, he needed her to fall apart at his touch, he needed her to realize that no other man could possibly touch her this way, make her feel the way he made her feel, or love her as fiercely as he loves her. His eyes were on her when he pushed into her warmth. She gasped and arched her back, he pushed further and finally could feel the pressure break and her clench his arms. It baffled him the overwhelming meaning of what he'd just done. He watched her fight the tears, she was always so strong, so controlled, she was his match in ever way. He kissed her lips as he waited for her to guide him, he'd never hurt her.

When she lifted her hip and pushed against him, he took charge again, looking into her eyes the whole while, he felt his heart racing in completely different way. He didn't ask her if she was alright, she didn't need him to ask as he kissed the side of her eye to brush away the moisture there. When he took her hand and folded their fingers in unison, she smiled at him. He thrust harder, watching as each jerk pushed her to the edge, as her hair bounced beneath her, as her mouth formed into O's, then he felt her tighten around him, her grip on his hands crushing as she floated up, and let him claim her lips before he was too was floating, her names spilling just once in a stringed whisper "Guinevere..."

"I love you Arthur..." she said over and over against his ears when his head rest against her cheek, he could feel the wetness from her tears.

"And I love you." he heard himself say without thinking, but he never really needed to think about that when it came her. He closed his eyes and took into memory the beauty of Guinevere, the scent of her, the feel of her, and the love he felt for her. He never loved another and he never would and for that reason alone he gripped her close to him for what seemed like forever. A perfect stillness in time.

When morning came, he rose and found her dressed and helping the villagers. She was kind, she was warmth, she was a friend, she was a mother to everyone, and a queen. He didn't feel empty that she wasn't with him when he woke, on the contrary he felt full of her, he felt her wisdom even now as he looked at the breakfast she left for him and his clothes neatly folded with the armor. She knew him as well, she knew him better than he knew himself. And that scared him, and that fear struck him with doubt once again. She had more power over him than he had over himself. He couldn't be weak, but without her he was. He thought of Merlin's words of how he and Guinevere would find one another again, and they had, but he didn't know if this time he could let her go, if he could lose her again.

But war was war, lives were lost, and nothing truly gained. At least he reasoned that he had all he wanted, he had her, and she was enough. But Guinevere knew better, knew that she would share him with Camelot, and she was willing to do so. She'd given him the night and today she'd let Camelot take him and he hoped that he could return to-with her, have her at his side.

But war changes things, and doubt was infectious.

The END.

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