Gwen knew that, in retrospect, the bed would eventually break. It was seventeen years old and very small, only built to take the weight of one person. It could have handled two... if they had kept very still. But there was no chance of that! It had been the lack of stillness that finally killed it.

If the bed had feelings it might have expressed surprise when one day Arthur and Gwen collapsed onto it and started thrashing about. It had served Arthur well in the two nights he slept on it despite how much he fidgeted... yet somehow it did not see this coming. Even when Gwen was a child and she used to jump on top it hadn't been as forceful as this. The bed creaked and groaned helplessly as they frantically moved against each other, hammering and thrusting while crying out to the heavens a chorus of "Arthur", "Guinevere" and various other sentiments and profanities. When it was all over Arthur, Gwen and the joints of the bed all let out a great moan of appreciation. Then there would be the blissful stillness accompanied by kisses and "I love yous".

Then it kept happening! There were still some nights when Gwen would sleep stilly and alone in the bed. Then there were some nights when she wouldn't sleep on it at all (because she and Arthur were at the palace attacking his bed, a bed that could cope with the strain) but it was still too much. If the bed could think, it wouldn't know what to think!

The sad truth was this; after seventeen years of loyal service as the bed that Gwen simply slept on, it couldn't take the pressure of being the bed she made love in. It was just too much and the longer time went on the more frequently it occurred. And the more frantic and experimental it became.

If the bed could talk, it would say "Give it a rest!"

Then one night it finally died. It had taken assault after assault on its joints, night after night for months when it finally gave up. It wasn't clear why it just suddenly gave up the ghost; maybe Arthur had taken Gwen just a little bit rougher than usual, or pounded her into the bed just a little too hard... or maybe they had finally just worn the damned thing to its last screw.

The bed fell in on itself just as the pair of them climaxed and collapsed against it, causing more shock and sensation than they had been expecting.

They were so dazed it took them a moment to realise what had happened. Arthur lifted his head from where it had been buried in Gwen's shoulder. "Did we just break the bed?"

"I think we did."

They pulled themselves from the wreckage and wrapped the bed sheets around themselves, still recovering from their tumble.

"Poor thing," Gwen commented, unable to contain her laughter. "It has served me so well too."

"Never mind," Arthur said humorously. "We'll get you a new one; in the meantime, you can sleep in my bed."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not going to lie," Arthur said. At least his bed could cope with the demand.

AN: Written for the A/G community on LJ's 1st drabble tag. The prompt was suggested by a friend of mine as "Gwen's bed breaks (for whatever reason :D)".