Comments: Just another little piece, based on Arthur going off to war....hope you like it

The days mould into one and time ticks by slowly like the beating of your heart. She was waiting, waiting for a sign, for a beacon of hope to know that he is safe. That his heart still beats beneath his armour and that it beats her name only. Nine months they had been gone, taken to a far off land to fight a senseless war by order of a king, who sits safe in the castle, sleeping on his soft bed and feeling no pain of the war he waged.

Every day without him felt like an eternity, ever day she lost a little piece of herself as if it floated off to be with him. She dreamed at nights, they were laying together on the edge of the battlefield, safe in each others arms...she could hear him whisper her name 'Guinevere' as it floated across the fields and into the night. And as she lay on his chest listening to his beating heart she thought of all of the words yet to be spoken and the moments yet to be etched into their memories.

The time he had been away put life in perspective for her. She had been a fool thinking that by distancing herself from him, that it would save her the heartache from the harsh realities of their relationship. The truth is all it had done was stolen moments away from them, the glances they made together should have been passionate embraces. Life was precious and each day needed to be lived as if it was their last, she felt sick at this thought, but life without Arthur, was a life she did not want to live.

If truth be known the strength of her feelings for him surprised her, his absence forcing her to deal with them. When she had seen Lancelot again, she realised that she used him, used him to escape the hurt of what she felt was a rejection from Arthur. When he said his 'father would never understand', although she knew he would not...it felt like he had made a mistake himself and by saying that he was let off the hook. So when Lancelot showed up, he gave her a chance to leave, to start a new life away from unrequited love and painful memories of the past, but Arthur showed up and her heart broke along with his that night.

If you would have asked her growing up what she felt about the prince, she would have used the words....arrogant, pig headed, bully and many more unsavoury words. But now she saw the man he was inside...he was brave, honourable, kind, intelligent, funny and completely loveable. She had fallen for him, never to escape...so the truth was her happiness lay in his hands.

As she walked alone the corridor, she thought of him...if she closed her eyes she could feel him near her, the way her skin would heat up and her heart would beat his name. And then reality would come back again, the loneliness would fill her soul and the air did not seem so sweet .

To help ease her mind, she had thrown herself into her work, she would spend her days with Gauis learning everything he would teach her and at night she would fill her mind with books to help her sleep.

The news of their return, came through whispers in the corridor...she ran through listening to them until she came to Gauis, he would know the truth.

A smile on his face told her the answer.

"They are to return within a month! Victorious" he pulled her into a hug and tears of joy escaped down her cheeks and stained his shoulder.

"He is safe Gwen, they both are" he rubbed circles on her back as the relief coursed through her body.

The next few weeks, the castle seemed to come alive again...in anticipation for the return of loved ones.

She hoped that he had missed her just as much as she did him. She looked in the mirror, hoping he would approve of her changed appearance. Her hair had grown; no longer tickling her shoulders instead it made its way down her back in long curls. She had lost weight and her dresses had all been taken in to reflect her new figure.

When she heard the victory trumpets playing, signalling their return, she was treating a injured man...she battled with herself whether to just run out or finish what she was doing. She sighed, she had to finish his wound, it was too large to leave. As she finally made her way out to the main square the whole of Camelot seemed to have gathered and she cursed her height. She tried jumping on the spot to catch one glimpse of him, a golden hair, anything...but she could not, the crowd cheering, the excitement in the air, but all she could see was the back of heads, heads of people she cared not of.

When the crowds finally started to disperse, she realised they were gone...gone into the castle and past her reach. She could go into his chambers and wait, or run along the corridors and try and catch him.

"Gwen...we have work to do" Gauis pointed at the injured being carried in on stretchers.

She battled with herself help, or go and her caring side won and she was off treating the wounded. The wounds were deep and nasty and her clean dress soon became covered in blood and dirt. She worked until the sun set over the hills.

Her heart felt heavy as she made her way home. She had waited, what felt like a lifetime to see him and now it was dark and he would be resting and the whole of Camelot had caught a glimpse of him and she had seen nothing, this was not quite the welcome home she had imagined!

She opened the door and into her home, lighting a few candles on the way. Her body started to heat up and her heart beat faster, he was near.

She turned around to find him leaning against her doorway. She gasped, his hair longer and a beard now covering his once soft skin...he looked older, but he was like the sunlight to her after a lifetime of darkness.

He closed the door and they wordlessly got closer to each other, never breaking eye contact. They were so close to each other, he reached out his hand, his nails covered in blood and dirt, but she didn't care. She closed her eyes as he placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed her face.

"Guinevere" his voice cracked as if he had not spoken since they left each other.

She opened her eyes, his eyes filled with tears and hers the same. A hunger lit inside her and she surprised him by launching herself on him, her lips crashing against his, the scratching of his beard not bothering her. His initial surprise soon left and he opened his mouth allowing her to taste his, she pushed him against her wall, the plates crashing around her as they fell on the floor. She did not look, she didn't care, she wanted to show him how much she missed him. Her hands went through his hair, no longer soft and clean but dirty and full of blood and sweat. He moaned as she pressed her body against his, she did not want any gap between them, no matter how improper it would look and no matter how much his body reacted to her.

His hands wrapped around her waist, she tasted every inch of his mouth, she wanted it to be etched in her memory. This was not a simple kiss, like the once shared before but a passionate and needed kiss, telling a story that words could not express.

Finally she had to pull back, air was become a necessity. She kept one hand in his hair and the other on his chest, her lips swollen and their breathing rapid.

Neither of them could speak...not tonight. He looked exhausted and dirty, his face showing the battle just had, she took his hand and led him to a chair. He did not question her, or protest he sat down and watched as she gathered a bowl and filled it with clean water and collected cloths, and towels. She needed to inspect his wounds and he knew she would, in fact he had dreamed of her tender touch.

He watched her every move, she carefully lifted off his tunic. She stopped breathing temporarily as his fine form came into view. The only thing ruining it was the dirt and untreated cuts and bruises that now covered his chest.

He heard her tut and he smiled.

She started with his hair. She placed a large bowl on table and guided him to lean back, she poured fresh water from a jug over his hair, her hands stroking his golden hair, pushing away the dirt. She picked up her favourite honey liquid; she used it for her hair and poured some onto his hair. She watched as he closed his eyes and sighed as her hands massaged his head.

He had definitely died or was dreaming. The smell of honey and the feel of Guinevere's hands on his hair, sent shivers down his spine and woke up his soul.

She then poured a fresh jug of water over his hair to rinse it. She placed a towel over his head and gently dried his hair, his eyes now looking directly at hers. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and placed the towel on the floor.

He watched as she rummaged through cupboards and came back with a blade and cream, he suspected it was from her father. She didn't speak she just raised the blade in her hand and he nodded to agree. If she didn't like the beard he did not want it on his face, he closed his eyes, giving complete faith in Guinevere knowing how to shave a beard and not cut him.

He felt nothing, just soft movements over his face. It was only when a cloth wiped his face and he saw her smile did he realise she had finished. She placed another kiss on his cheek and smiled.

Next was his chest, he was covered in muck, making his wounds hard to see. She picked up her softest cloth and dipped it into the bowl, she heard his heart beating faster as he watched her place the wet cloth on his chest. She had to really try hard to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than the bulging muscles beneath her finger tips.

She cleaned his chest, his arms, back and neck. Once she was satisfied his body was clean she set to addressing every wound. She carefully fixed the open wounds and then used her fingers to trace along the sealed ones, he shivered as she placed a kiss on them, as if apologising for not being there for them.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that she consumed his every thought and that each day apart from her had been unbearable. But he could not, the joy of seeing her, of feeling her lips on his was too much and his words had failed him.

When she had finished and was satisfied, that he was clean and his injuries sealed. She threw away the bloody cloths and water.

She came back to him and took his hand leading him to her bed. He sat down and she carefully took his boots off, she pushed lightly on his chest so that he lay down. He shifted over so she could join him, but he watched as she walked away and hoped she intended to lay with him.

He could see in the dim candle light an vague outline of her perfect form, luckily most of her hidden by a wooden divider as she changed, he watched the dress float above the divider, then heard it drop to the floor. A few minutes later, she appeared again in a clean one, he was definitely dreaming.

She blew out most of the candles on the way, leaving a small one lit by her bed. He watched as she lay next to him and placed her head carefully on his chest . He laced his arm around her and the other took her hand, they held onto each other wordlessly as the candle finally started to dim.

Arthur fell asleep first, she could tell by his heart slowing down and the light snore escaping from his lips. She moved her head so it was near his ear, the words on her tongue needed to flow "I love you" she whispered into his dreams.

A smile formed on his lips as he dreamt of laying in Guinevere's arms with the words he longed to hear filling his heart.