Live For Me (Arthur and Gwen)

Apart

"Good luck with that one," Arthur grinned, those blue eyes dancing.

Gwen looked down, praying that he couldn't see the blush forming on her cheeks, and murmured her agreement. He was right, though. It seemed she'd need all the luck she could get attending Lady Vivian. Her only experience as servant had been with Morgana, who was forever kind to her, and considerate, and even Arthur, though he had his faults, had never once truly insulted her. The Lady Vivian, on the other hand... Well, Gwen supposed she couldn't be that bad. Everyone had their virtues –– it just took a little longer to see it in some people.

She looked up and met Arthur's gaze. The prince's smile had faded, and he was watching her with soft eyes, and a look she couldn't quite place. It was something like admiration, or wonder, or... something. She didn't know. Guinevere blushed, biting the inside of her lip. She wondered if he knew just how much she cared for him, and just how much it ached to not be able to kiss him, hold him, or just be with him.

His throat bobbed, and Gwen was sure she was not imagining it when he leaned in, and she found herself doing the same, almost lost in those large, earnest blue eyes. 

But Arthur gave a small jolt, cleared his throat, and took a step back. Gwen bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from crying.

"I need to prepare for the feast," he said gruffly, and walked off. 

Gwen felt her shoulders slump, a soft sigh pushing its way past her lips. Everyone she'd ever felt anything for –– Merlin, Lancelot, even that young man, Archer, whom she'd had a complete girlhood crush on, and now Arthur... something had always stood in the way. It hurt more than she cared to admit, that she couldn't be with Arthur. She wondered if it hurt him, too. A small part of her told her not to be so foolish, that he was a prince, and had far prettier suitors than a maidservant, but... Well, it hurt too much to even think about it.

Gwen squared her shoulders and turned towards the door of Lady Vivian's chambers. She needed to prepare her for the feast. She knocked softly, and gritted her teeth at the imperious,

"Come."

She pushed open the door and curtsied to the blonde princess seated before her vanity, twirling a curl of her hair around a finger.

"My Lady," Gwen said, straightening up. "I am to help you prepare for the feast."

Lady Vivian barely spared her a glance, simply standing and marching to the screen in one corner of the room.

"Good," she said, and Gwen could see an arm extended around the edge of the screen, fingers beckoning. "Dress."

Taking a deep breath, Guinevere found a gold-and-white gown laid across the back of one of the chairs. On it was a note written in neat, careful letters.

'Father commanded me to pick out a dress for the Lady Vivian. I hope this meets his standards. And I hope you approve, Guinevere. You'll have to report to me at the feast.

Prince Arthur'

A slow smile spread across Gwen's face, and for a moment she forgot her annoyance and dread at serving Lady Vivian for however long she'd be staying, a warm feeling spreading through her. She picked up the dress, pocketing the note, and carried it over to the screen, where she handed it to the Lady.

"I hope you like it," Gwen said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Prince Arthur picked it out himself."

She couldn't help the swell of pride at the thought.

A snort sounded from out of sight. "Then I truly fear for Prince Arthur's future queen."

Gwen's hands clenched into fists. The Lady's blonde curls appeared around the corner of the screen, followed by the rest of her as she stepped out. Gwen hated to admit it, but she did look lovely, the gold-and-white going beautifully with her thick hair.