Oh my God, you guys, I actually wrote it! My Arturia/Guinevere piece!
... Yeah, okay, it's not much. And I'm not all that happy with it at some parts, the flow feels a little awkward at times. But still, overall I'm pretty happy with it. I consider this "possible AU" because it's lightly exploring the concept of Guinevere actually caring for Arturia, possibly in a romantic fashion, and what could result from that. For now, it's only going to be a one-shot, but I might expand it as I get more ideas.
Also, Guinevere is fem!Shirou. Because I really couldn't imagine her any other way.
Written while listening to the French version of "Can You Feel The Love Tonight". Yes, I'm sappy like that.
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It was very rare for Arturia Pendragon to have free time.
It was understandable; being a king was an occupation that usually took up all of one’s time, and even when it was said that he had free time, “free time” usually translated into “solve all of the other problems that were blocked out by the bigger ones”. But for once in her life, the young woman actually had true, genuine free time.
And no idea what to actually do with it.
Oh, certainly, she had some pressing issues; she needed to speak with Merlin about the recent dragon infestation, and the sooner she asked Lancelot exactly why Bedivere had been making bed eyes at him, the better, because the tension between the two was getting so thick she could cut it with Excalibur.
But none of those were horribly dire, ‘need-to-be-solved’ problems; indeed, she couldn’t even find Merlin, so for now trying to discuss the dragons was a no go until she had some idea of how to slay magical beasts that were easily thousands of years old.
Sighing, Arturia absently ran her fingers through the leaves of a passing bush as she walked; she had simply started off in one direction, letting her feet carry her, and in the course of that choice had ended up in the royal gardens. They really were very pretty, she mused, watching a butterfly flit along in the air. She barely had a chance to enjoy the view; really, she was always busy and running from place to place. Even when she passed through the garden with companions, it seemed she never saw it, really.
So lost in thought was the young king that she didn’t see the quick blur of movement through the flowers; had she been thinking clearly, she would have noticed it in half a second, but as it was she had paused, examining a small bush sporting some happy, white little flowers—
A pair of dark eyes gleamed lightly from within the flowers. Arturia blinked for a moment and stared dumbly.
“Boo.”
Arturia would go to her grave denying she had ever screamed.
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Merlin was in many ways, a very complex man.
Most didn’t have his sense of humor; most didn’t love his king as he did. Most didn’t linger on the fact that for a man—or woman, in this case—recently married, young Arthur didn’t spend much time with his bride.
Guinevere. A most beautiful young woman, by all accounts; long, silken red hair that curled slightly at the tips, soft and pale skin, a pair of calm, reserved golden eyes. Most men looked on her, envied the young king for his luck, and whispered behind his back about exactly what they desired when it came to the new queen.
Most men didn’t look at her and see that quiet, hidden loneliness lurking in her eyes.
Queen Guinevere was, in simple terms, homesick.
Merlin, being unlike most men, decided to do something about it. His idea was to call Arturia’s attention to it.
Scaring a scream out of her hadn’t been part of the plan, but it had been a pretty pleasant bonus.
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“I was looking for you, you know.”
“I believe you, my king,” the old man said, easily ignoring the throbbing pain at the back of his head where the king had smacked him the moment she had recognized him. His lips twitched dangerously, but he didn’t dare smile.
Arturia scowled anyway.
Sighing, she brushed loose strands of blonde hair out of her eyes. “I wanted to ask you about the dragon problem.”
Merlin chuckled. “How odd, I actually wanted to discuss something with you, as well.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, though it doesn’t concern dragons. I’ve been thinking more about the queen.”
Later, Arturia would feel guilty about the fact that the moment Merlin mentioned ‘queen’, her mind went blank. It took her several seconds to recall a face and a name to match the title. “You mean Guinevere?”
“Yes, her.” The man nodded, pleased that his companion was keeping up with the topic of their conversation. “It seems to be she’s a little homesick, my king.”
“A little…”
The blonde’s scowl became a frown of confusion; why was this important? Certainly, Guinevere seemed a little spaced out at times, often quite distant, but it wasn’t as if it was a major problem…
Oh.
Immediately, her face flushed. For the second time in a matter of seconds, she felt guilty.
Well, of course Guinevere would feel homesick. Ignoring the most obvious fact, she and Arturia hadn’t interacted since—God, the last time they’d actually spoken had been their wedding. The king had immediately been whisked away to deal with some problem, and hadn’t really had a good chance to interact with her wife since then.
Admittedly… interacting with Guinevere was something that scared Arturia.
Just a little bit.
A teensy, tiny little bit.
That still doesn’t justify my treatment of her.
Merlin chuckled, seeing his message had gotten through; it seemed some free time certainly helped the king remember certain aspects of her life. He stood up. “It’s just my thought,” he continued conversationally, “that you should do something to make her feel welcome.” He gestured to the small bush Arturia had been admiring earlier. “She often walks through this garden. She quite likes those flowers.”
He left then, letting the blushing woman figure out exactly what he meant.
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No one could understand exactly why the king went and asked one of the kitchen maids if they had any vases available, but it wasn’t really anyone’s right to judge what the young man did with his free time.
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Guinevere had been having a very boring day so far.
Outside of her chat with Lancelot in the morning before the knight had gone off to continue his training, not much had happened today. It was going to be on of those long, quiet days that stretched on forever, she could already tell.
Well, at least she had her book. She was rereading it, but whatever.
Sighing and turning away from the window, making a mental note to explore the gardens later, she cracked it open and absently scanned the page, trying to find the sentence she had last left off on.
She was just starting to get into the story when she heard a soft, hesitant knock on the door. It was so soft that for a moment, she could have sworn she imagined it; then it came again, a little louder and firmer. Baffled, she lifted her eyes. “Come in.”
There was a moment of hesitation, as if whoever was on the other side was gathering their courage; finally, the door pushed open. Startled, Guinevere immediately got to her feet. “My king,” she murmured, and smiled slightly, just a little nervously. “I didn’t expect you to visit.”
The ‘my king’ part wasn’t necessary; it was more the result of nervousness than actual thought. They were alone, currently, and Guinevere knew all too well that her ‘husband’ was indeed a young woman. One of the side effects of their marriage being more for technical reasons than for romantic, she mused.
The term didn’t seem to relax Arturia all that much, either; Guinevere could have sworn for a moment, the smaller girl flinched just a bit. Her usually immaculate blonde bun was a little messy, oddly enough; a few strands had escaped, falling into her eyes and lightly brushing her shoulders. It was an oddly appealing look.
Briefly, Guinevere wondered what Arturia would look like with her hair down. She hastily banished the thought before it could fully form.
“I… uh…. Yes,” Arturia said, very intelligently, and swallowed. She looked scared out of her wits, now that Guinevere was looking at her; and was she hiding something behind her back? “I noticed you haven’t visited the gardens today.”
The redhead’s smile became sheepish. “Yes, well, apparently there’s something of the upmost importance being done in the library that I have to see, so I’m now allowed outside until then. It doesn’t seem to be ready yet, though.”
“Ah.” Arturia seemed to lose track of the conversation at that point; she looked quite like a cornered deer facing the sharp end of an arrow.
Guinevere was patient, thankfully.
Finally, the young king seemed to collect herself. In several steps, she crossed the room, drew her hands out from behind her back, and shoved something into Guinevere’s hands. Her face as red as the sunset, she muttered “I was told you liked these flowers” before she practically fled from the room, saying something about dragons and knights who wanted to bed each other.
The golden-eyed woman stood there for a moment, quite stunned; she blinked several times, and finally her mind seemed to catch up with her. She looked down into her hands.
It was a small vase, wide, and clear; certainly, someone would miss it. It had been filled with dirt, fresh dark soil, and recently watered by the look and smell of it. And planted carefully so that no flower would be crowded out was a small batch of tiny white flowers, brilliant gold in the center, a small slash of light in the dim room.
Guinevere blinked, staring once again; for some reason, her sheepish smile shifted, widened, warmed just a little bit, even as she felt a slight blurring in her eyes. “Oh, Arturia,” she sighed.
“I was told you liked these flowers.”
She set the vase gently by the window, to ensure the flowers got plenty of sunlight. They had short life spans—all flowers did—but she wanted to enjoy them while they lasted.
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The knights saw small, faded dirt stains on their king’s hands, and didn’t ask how they got there.
Arturia was eternally grateful for it.
And when she got home from her mission that day, weary and aching in places she didn’t even know she had, Guinevere was waiting, and welcomed her with open arms.
It was… oddly soothing.
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Originally Posted by Komrade Kwestions
