what love is

Gwen smiled at him. He couldn't help but think that it suited her, that smile. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

"You're not kissing me," she said. His hand was still on her cheek, and her smile was still beautiful. He was sure his face was red. He leaned forward to press his lips to hers again, but she placed her palm on his chest. "Arthur, stop it."

He pulled away immediately. "Am I doing it wrong?" he asked. He knew how to kiss. He'd kissed dozens of women, visiting nobles or princesses that caught his eye. And he'd just kissed Gwen, too. He knew how to kiss. Why couldn't he kiss her?

"You're not kissing me in your head. You close your eyes and you don't see me, do you? You see someone else."

"And who, exactly, do I see?" Arthur knew this game. She was playing hard to get, testing his loyalty.

"Merlin."

Arthur's cheeks were aflame. "I– shut up! Why, out of all people, would I see Merlin?"

Gwen's smile turned into a grin. He liked it better, like this. "Because you have a thing for servants!"

Gwen was howling, cackling madly. Arthur crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, you have a thing for Pendragons!"

She stopped.

"I do not!"

"Do too! We've all seen how you look at Morgana! Frankly, I'm surprised she hasn't noticed. Merlin always says–"

"Oh, Merlin always says?"

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, they burst into laughter. It was loud and boisterous and was probably heard by every guard in the halls. There were tears in his eyes, tears in hers. He didn't think he'd ever been this happy while kissing a princess.

"You're pretty, Arthur," she said, finally. She wiped at her eye. Her smile had faded into something softer.

"And you're beautiful."

"I don't think we should kiss anymore," she said, "I don't think your father likes it."

"I don't think my father would like me kissing Merlin, either."

She laughed again. He did too.

They would be okay.