Warning: fluff, sex, fluff, with a touch of humour thrown in for good measure
Summary/Author's Note: Every once in a while I go through a phase where I watch oodles of Friends. Currently I'm on season 9 where Monica and Chandler are trying to get pregnant, and as apparently everything in my life somehow relates to Merlin, I wondered how Gwen and Arthur would start on that particular journey and - voila. I hope you enjoy ♥!
"Arthur," she whispered in his ear late one night. He was lying on his stomach, face pressed to the crook of his arm as his other hand traced haphazardly across her cheek. Gwen lay half on top of him, her fingers in his hair, running through the strands or dancing along his neck. Their chatter had been of idle things, before quieting as they became lost to their own thoughts, intent on just watching each other.
Arthur sometimes wondered when he had become such a sentimental person, so easily tender to Guinevere, the affection he felt never a burden. He didn't regret the slow change; it did not lessen his ability to rule or his capability for ruthlessness on the battlefield. But especially in this space, and particularly underneath these covers, those harder attributes rarely ever showed.
"Guinevere," he finally whispered back, and smiled automatically when she smiled at the way he said her name. His fingers passed over her lips, and she kissed each one, running her hand across his back.
"I was thinking," she began and then bit her lip. He always felt conflicted when she did that; it was appealing on many levels, but also meant he lost sight of the plump round of her lip. "We ought to try in earnest to have an heir."
Though his heart skipped eagerly as a pleased flush spread fast from his neck to his ears and his stomach clenched in anticipation, he chuckled: he had never been able to pass the opportunity to tease her. "If I didn't know better, Gwen," he said lightly, brushing a curl of her hair from her cheek. "I'd think you were simply trying to find an excuse to make love to me more often."
"Well, perhaps I'm not thinking entirely for the future of the kingdom," she admitted, eyes raising to the ceiling in feigned innocence.
"No?" Arthur asked, already starting to raise himself up. The gentle flames of desire were lapping warmly in his stomach, and he knew exactly how to kiss Gwen so she would quickly feel the same.
She made a noise in the back of her throat, rolling onto her back and smiling cheekily up at him as he leaned over her. "It will take lots of... tries, obviously," Guinevere continued, sighing when he brushed his lips across her throat. "And even when it's the wrong time of my cycle, we really ought to be practising."
"I knew I married you for a reason," he muttered, closing his eyes as her hand snaked down his chest. "Aside from your keen mind, and gorgeous smile, I mean."
"I only agreed to marry you for your famed prowess in the bedroom," she proclaimed brazenly. Arthur growled his disbelief, silencing her giggles with an enthusiastic kiss as her hand wrapped tight around him.
"I can't get pregnant that way, Arthur," she scolded teasingly. He had disrobed her eagerly the moment they stepped into their chambers, tossing her dress aside carelessly before picking her up and laying her down on the bed. It had been a pleasant surprise, one she had not expected, though perhaps she should have given how boring the evening was. Arthur was always restless after hours spent in the company of those with little intelligence or wit.
He was lying now between her legs, half undressed, his hands splayed across her abdomen where he had pressed innumerable tender kisses earlier. He eyed her core intently, and she recognised the look on his face which meant he was imagining her taste on his tongue. It excited and amused her, but she was also keen on seeing her tummy grow with a life made half of herself and half Arthur.
Any other type of sex simply delayed that dream becoming reality.
"Always so practical," he finally grumbled and she bit back a soft moan when his breath breezed across her sensitive flesh. With a last, reluctant look between her thighs, he sat up and shed the last of his clothing.
He took her breath away; he always had. She knew every part of his body, from mole to scar; ticklish spots to the places he experienced little pleasure. And the understanding that she kept all this knowledge, could call upon every bit of it to ensure his pleasure and her own, was one of the only selfish things Gwen took absolute happiness in.
Gwen reached out for him and he linked his fingers with hers, settling down beside her and kissing across her chest. She sent her free hand into his hair, pressing her fingers in tight circles and tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull, relishing the feel of his puffed sigh when she finally found the exact point she'd been seeking.
She smiled when he shifted so he was sort-of atop her, and she met each of his kisses as passionately as he gave them. Arthur's hands began stroking down her body, exploring a little randomly, then paying special attention to her breasts until she was panting against his mouth. Her own hands moved compulsively down and across his back, stroking lower to hold his bottom before she ran her fingers along his length.
"Guinevere," he murmured around her mouth and she twitched her leg aside so he could settle between her thighs. Gwen slowly slid her hands up his back as he kissed her with aching sweetness - a new habit of his since they'd decided to try for a child.
Once her hands found his head, she lifted her knees to hold tight against his hips and broke off the kiss to find his eyes. "I love you," she whispered, and Arthur smiled at her in a way which still sent her heart fluttering, before he gently grasped her hip, pushing into her.
The initial connection set them both panting anew, and Arthur rested his brow to Gwen's as they watched each other closely. After a few beats, Arthur offered her a seductive wink which made her chuckle, before he tipped his head back, and began a slow rhythm which Gwen matched easily. She took advantage of his bared neck stretched before her to press messy kisses into his skin and relished the smile she saw blossom fast on his lips.
With each thrust his chest brushed against hers and Gwen gripped his shoulders tightly with every pass. Arthur looked down at her when she began to raise her hips to his more quickly, and he laughed breathlessly at whatever determination showed on her face before pressing a wet kiss to her cheek. He slid his arm beneath her, palm spread flat between her shoulder blades and Gwen eagerly helped push them up as Arthur rose to sit back with Gwen spread across his lap.
There was something about this position which Gwen adored; somehow they seemed even closer, more intimate than any other way. Arthur met her gaze with darkened, wide eyes and kissed her lightly before leaning into her, lips brushing against her neck as he whispered, "lead me, my queen."
Gwen always felt the same dip of surprise whenever anyone addressed her that way, and the dip in these circumstances translated to a tightening of her body which had Arthur groaning against her throat. One of her hands gripped his shoulder and another braced at his ribcage as she increased the rhythm he had set earlier.
His lips attached themselves to the middle of her collarbone, and with each of her movements, he sucked and nipped. "You'll leave a mark," she gasped after a short while, as his hand slid to hold her bum, kneading in a counter rhythm to her rocking.
"I don't care," he murmured back, breath breezing hotly across her sweaty chest, raising goosebumps in its wake. To prove his point, he added his tongue to the task, stroking short teasing lines within the circle of his lips. Gwen tipped her head back, pushing down more roughly against him and Arthur gasped, "I mean I really don't care."
He sounded almost dazed that it made her laugh, vibrations rumbling from the pit of her tummy, through her limbs until it set Arthur laughing too. His hips began to thrust faster and he was beginning to drive her mad. The feeling of his body moving in her and heaving against her through laughter and motion and sweat and then - desperation, as his arms circled around her, pulling her tight against him so she could hardly move more than her hips deliriously against his, their moans and groans, gasps and sighs sounding almost musical in her desire.
Her hands roved ceaselessly across his back, stroking and scratching as her body began trembling and Gwen wanted so badly to have his mouth pressed to hers but he held her too close for that. Her lips instead found his earlobe and Arthur's respondent echoing groan of approval made her gnaw and suck all the harder.
They were being terribly loud, a part of her mind warned her, but Gwen had stopped listening long ago to the shy girl who was solely mindful of social convention. As Arthur's mouth closed around her shoulder, teeth biting just hard enough to leave dull marks, Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, rocking frantically and clinging to him tightly as wave after wave of pleasure began swelling through her.
The court physician's advice suddenly broke through the haze, and just before her ecstasy broke, Gwen cried urgently, "down!" Arthur moved quickly, throwing them back so Gwen lay beneath him, her legs wrapped tight about his waist as she arched and climaxed, calling nonsensically to the heavens at the same moment Arthur stiffened before spilling richly into her with a deep moan of her name.
After a few moments spent gasping as they rode their pleasure, Arthur kissed her languidly, gently pulling his hands from beneath her and sliding free from within her. When Gwen opened her eyes, she was greeted with his amused, tired smile and she smoothed her palms across his stomach before whispering, "what?"
"You said 'thanks' as you came," Arthur told her, hardly maintaining the neutral tone to which she thought he was striving. It had been ages since Arthur had made her blush in bed, but Gwen could feel the embarrassed flush spreading swiftly across her cheeks. "I would take it as a stroke to my ego, but you already think that's large enough."
"I do," she agreed slowly. She wormed her fingers into the thick of hair on his forehead, tussling his fringe. He watched her expectantly for a moment before ducking his head a bit with a snort and Gwen tipped her chin up to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.
He laughed then, kissing her forehead and her nose before finally alighting a chaste kiss on her mouth. "That's all right," he said, rolling to the side and quickly pulling her against him to tuck her into his side before tugging the blankets over to cover them. Gwen shifted to lie half on top of him, the better to watch him; then slid her feet along his legs to tangle them together, the better to fall asleep cherished in his hold.
"I didn't know I said anything," she continued wearily. Satisfaction was still heavy in her limbs, and she could hardly be worried given how obviously entertained he was. In any case, her mind was considering what their combined efforts were hopefully doing inside her and Gwen absently stretched her hand across his chest, seeking his fingers.
Catching her hand and stroking her palm with his thumb, Arthur drew her attention to the present, raising an eyebrow at her. "What could you have meant?" he asked, eyes bright with curiosity. She frowned and puckered her lips in thought. "You also said 'down' just before," he offered helpfully.
If anything, her blush increased with that knowlege. "Oh," she said in realisation, glancing nervously to his face and then laughing at his bewilderment. "The physician said it was best if I was laying down, when, you know, so everything would... Both of our... Well. It would all just be - better. That way."
He was staring at her blankly, and then suddenly he was laughing heartily again. "So you were thanking me for -
"Yes. For that."
He laughed and stroked her head affectionately, and Gwen kissed his chest, thinking again how loving this man, her sovereign, would be as a father. Though she doubted very much that their children would ever see the end of the teasing.
Arthur was quite tired of dinners, actually. The last month had been one noble's marriage after another noble's birthday after another kingdom's treaty signed and he would really rather be doing anything else than attending yet another bloody celebratory dinner.
Not to mention the day had already been long, what with the bandit attacks on the eastern border and a series of thefts in the lower quarter of the city. Meetings had started at dawn, with little time in between for much else.
"We ought to ban celebrations with royalty," he voiced, waspish, to Guinevere who was undressing behind a screen in the corner. "If people want to bloody celebrate something, they can do it in their chambers. We could send them wine."
Gwen made a noncommittal sound from behind her screen and Arthur stood straight from shucking his boots. "Don't tell me you actually enjoy these dinners," he said irritably and moved towards her screen, deciding immediately that a nonsense row would be the perfect reason to arrive late and leave early. "Most of the time everyone is drunk anyway..."
He rounded the screen to find Gwen standing with a stunned expression, still entirely dressed, her hands spread across her flat stomach. Anxiety filled him as grain in a bucket and he lurched towards her, hands gripping her shoulders. "What is it?" he asked urgently. "Are you ill?"
But Guinevere shook her head, looking at him as if just realising he was there. "I'm late," she said and Arthur's eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Not at all. No one can question our sense of time, after all-
But she was shaking her head vigorously. "No, Arthur," she said, voice now a quiet whisper. "I've just realised that I'm late." The emphasis niggled something in the back of his mind, and Arthur glanced down at her hands still covering her abdomen.
With a jolt which widened his eyes and sent his heart pounding wildly, Arthur met her gaze again. "You mean... you mean, that your cycle - that you haven't, yet - but that you ought to have..." Gwen was watching him and nodding, an ecstatic smile starting to spread her lips, and lift her features, setting her face aglow. He remembered her on their wedding day, resplendent in white and shining before him similarly. "So that means that you're, what it really means -
Her laughter rang out, loudly, filling their chambers in an almost substantial way. "You sound like me!" she cried gleefully, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly against her. "Pregnant, Arthur!" He stood frozen and Guinevere laughed again. She pulled away from the hug to grip his head tightly between her palms, whispering affectionately, "you absolute prat," before raising to her toes and kissing him firmly.
Her lips were soft and warm against his, melting his shock away like the first sunshine after winter and all Arthur knew was an unadulterated joy. And that joy was hot, and it was Guinevere.
She squeaked in surprise as he broke the kiss, sweeping her right off her feet and moving towards their bed. She kept laughing delightedly, although she'd also begun to squirm in his hold, hands pushing ineffectively against his arms to release her. "We'll be late," she cried between giggles and Arthur set her carefully back on the ground, just beside their bed, with a snort.
"I've definitely never cared any less about anything," he said, leaning around her to get at her back, his hands flying through the familiar ritual of unlacing the ties of her dress.
Gwen stood patiently in front of him, fingers stroking up and down his arms as he worked, her mouth pressing light kisses along his jaw. "You were only looking for an excuse not to attend," she teased after a moment. "This could always wait until afterwards."
"When have I ever waited for anything?" he responded distractedly, struggling to tug the lace free from a particularly tiny hole. He may just have to fire the seamstress.
"You waited years for me," Gwen whispered, her hand snaking up to cup his cheek and Arthur slowed. He pulled back a little to see her glowing expression and let her hand guide his mouth to hers. The kiss was slower than their earlier ones, Arthur following Guinevere's gentle lead, until she broke the kiss with a contented sigh, resting her forehead against his. "You're going to be a father," she informed him lightly.
Arthur closed his eyes while waves of emotion, bright and free, washed over him as he contemplated those words. They should have meant heir and duty; royalty and training. But all he could really associate with them were love and Guinevere.
"And you're going to be a mother," Arthur said quietly with a jubilant chuckle, opening his eyes to find hers.
They were incredibly late to the dinner.