GENRE:  Fan-ficlet, Merlin, Arthur/Gwen


SUMMARY: Light smutlet. Prince Arthur seduces young Gwen

est. reading time: 10 – 15 minutes


As Gwen slowly came to, she realized there was a softness under her that she was not used to…

She was not in her own stiff, scratchy, straw bed. She was laying on a soft feathered mattress. A luxury, it was like laying on a cloud.

“What in the world am I doing here?” She asked herself in her half-wakeful state. She stirred slightly, causing a mirrored movement on top of her. She scrunched her face and half-opened her eyes.

A tousled blond head lay between her breasts, a pale muscular body lay tangled along her body. A callused hand fluttered slightly in her curls.

“…Oh.” She whispered. “What did-, It wasn’t a dream.”

It was coming back to her…

Prince Arthur’s beckoning. Her willing herself to be strong, determined not to be another conquest for him to be tossed aside. The words, as usual, came out all wrong and Arthur knew it… knew it and loved it.

It was the first time he’d touched her skin and the second time she’d touched his. They’d been carefully, determinedly avoiding each other’s touch, as dictated by the protocol of their stations…So, they’d told themselves. When they finally did touch. Just the hands, at first… all that tension, that had built up over time, was released in a passionate fury.

Morgan had released her of her duties for the day and she was on her way back to father’s little cottage. She was the only servant still roaming the royal halls.

“Guinevere.” She halted and looked around. And the voice came again. She turned in place and saw Arthur standing at his chamber door, his face set in a serious line.

“Guinevere, come here.”

She hesitated, frowning at him suspiciously. “What is it that you require of me, sire?”

“Your company. –You.”

Gwen took a deep breath. “Sire, it is my duty to obey, but I would rather not be used by you.”

He seemed stung by that. “You think I would-?” He inclined his head in a manner she instantly understood.

“-Oh no, sire. Not that..

Suddenly conscious of the fact that there might be other people around, she walked a little closer and kept her voice low….

“Of course, you don’t want that. ..I mean, I stupidly assumed, but you just require an ear, is that right?”

And there she was doing that enduring thing he loved, stumbling over her words, looking everywhere but at him, wringing her hands together as if embarrassed by her own innate nobility.

…More noble than any of the so-called ladies he’d encountered, anyway. Others had lied about their chastity, their motives, even Morgan had held back about the nature of her dreams.

In Arthur’s mind, Guinevere was the only true lady he’d known.

Her cheeks took on a low blushy maroon hue. She truly was the purest creature he hand ever encountered. He felt guilty to think of her in that way, so often. Guinevere was the girl he’d respected most in the world. Always faithful, moral, loyal…

Her opinion of him was the one he cared about most. But he could not deny his feelings any longer. Despite the many stained lips and cheeks, he’d caressed, he wanted her and only her.

He stifled a small laugh and simply held out his hand.

The anguish that crossed her face then, was as weighty as it gets.

He sighed. “ You were right…I do want, that and more…” He said, very seriously.

“But I will not force you to do what you do not want, Guinevere…but, I sensed. Nay, I hoped.

And finally… “Please. Guinevere.”

She looked up into his face then and saw something she could not say no to, even if she’d wanted to… Just his heart, open and vulnerable.

He’d lay his head beneath her own executioner’s axe.

She knew she should turn around. Her brain was practically shouting at her. But his eyes held her, drew her to him, and when she finally reached a single hand up to touch his own (first skin-to-skin), he took full advantage, drawing her into his room and his arms, closing the chamber doors behind them.

They both gasped and let out held breaths as their lips touched; a culmination of all that they’d held back over the years. The prince swung her back against the wall and pressed upon her, almost every part of him meeting part of her.

“Arthur…” It was a rapturous chant.

“It was always you.” He said incredulously, vocalizing his feelings for the first time. “How could I deny myself for so long…”

“Because you’re an arrogant prat…Couldn’t see past yourself, even when you were.” she said laughing, between kisses.

“Well,” he said, taking her face in her hands, fixing her eyes with his steady gaze “-no more….None after you.”

His hands slide down to her hips, gripping the edges of her tunic. This he held, while his fingertips inched her gown up her legs…

“Arthur, I’ve never…”

“-I know. If you don’t want to.”

“No-, I do. More than anything.”

He searched her eyes again, looking hesitant. Fear had settled within the lus.ty haze.

“I would never toss you aside, Gwen. How could dare to think it?” He leaned in, allowing his lips to brush the hallow of her neck, rolling his hips so his hardness ground against the sensitive flesh between her legs.

“…I love you.” He whispered.

“I trust you, Arthur…” She replied.

He rolled his hips, again, “…. with everything. I always have.” Guinevere’s throat hitched as her pleasure increased, her eyes fluttering closed.

Arthur lifted his head so he could see, his eyes glazed over, watching her in fascination with eyes much darker than the familiar clear blue.

Even her reactions were honest. She held back nothing. It was incredibly se.xy, to him.

This holding back was a tortuous ordeal…Exquisite, wonderful, torture. There was a moment when he had to still himself, for almost tumbling over too soon… Her hands were at the small of his lower back, urging him on…

He gasped against her ear…. “Guinevere.”

He planted his trembling hands on either side of her pushing himself away…

“I need to slow down…” He said, mostly to himself.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He said, smiling. “Absolutely not.”

“I just don’t want this to be over before we’ve properly begun.”

He took his loose shirt up over his head. And his trousers, already unlaced, just set lightly on the narrow bones of his hips.

God, he was beautiful. Pale and hard, a perfect work of art, courtesy of all his years of training and battle.

Gwen took her cue and reached both arms behind her, expertly unlacing both her tunic and her gown. Both fell in a pool at her slippered feet.

She stood before him, her curls forming a wild halo around her face, completely nude and unashamed under his gaze.

He just gaped. He drunk in the view lazily, longingly, his eyes caressing her as much as his hands would. He took in the details, soft sienna skin on perfect curves, another beauty mark he’d spied just below her belly-button, he’d already claimed it as his favorite spot, in his mind.

He set on the edge of his bed and drew her to him, his hands on her hips.

He sighed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe she was all his. Then, ever so gently, he rested his head against her curved belly, planting a kiss on his mark, while his hand slipped between her thighs. Again, he found that delicate bit of flesh, that brought the most pleasure and pressed his palm against it, and she rocked in a slow erotic dance.

She swayed and frowned.


She didn’t know want she wanted, but she knew it was very close…within reach.

She shuddered against him, and those warm flutters his expert movements caused, spread throughout her body.

She looked almost angry at him, when he stopped to shift the position of his hand, slipping a finger deep within her, while he continued to press her sensitive nub.

She gasped and let her head fall back., while he pumped his finger within, building a steady rhythm.

“My God…Arthur.

For his part, he gripped her hip with his other hand while he his forehead lay just beneath her bellybutton, continuing his ministrations.

He felt her grip tightened…She was close. He increased his pace and was rewarded with a choked, gasp….

“Oh, GOD!!! Arthur!!”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she looked down at him lustily, willing him not to stop, ever.

He met her eyes, urging her over that last line…

And then she crossed it.

“eh-Ahh! AHH! OHH! OOH!!” Her eyes widened in surprised elation, and she felt herself tipping over. She was losing her balance.

Arthur wrapped both arms around her waist, steadying her. He steered her around to his bed and gently lowered down her to his feathered mattress.

Gwen shuddered as the last waves of her orgasm shifted through her body. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and panting.

Arthur knew he’d never see anything more beautiful than she was in this moment. He lay beside her and watched, listening as the pace of her breathing steadied.

He brought the back of her hand to his lips and quipped smugly, “You are my lady now, aren’t you Guinevere?”

“Yes.” She said, a slow grin spreading across her lips.

“Think you might handle more, now?” He said, nuzzling her flushed cheek.

“Yes.” She said, nodding eagerly.

He shifted positions so she was beneath him, her legs open for him. She lifted her head kissing him, while she fumbled at the lightly tied laces at his waist. She shivered in pleasurable anticipation at the sight of his nude figure, when his thin breeches slipped down his hips. She bit her lower lip as her eyes lingered on the length and breadth of his hardness.

She wondered how…but did not fear.

She boldly allowed her hands to curve around the hard round slope of his bottom and brought him down closer to her flesh.

There, face to face, their eyes locked, Arthur slowly entered her….

She let out a short clipped scream.

“I’m hurting you.” he said, beginning to withdraw.

“-No, I’m fine Arthur, don’t stop.”

And so he pushed in much slower. God, she felt so good to him. Warm, and tight and wet, perfect.

Then he stilled. He concentrated very hard on not giving in to his body’s will. He realized that he was absolutely certain that she was the first true virgin he had been with. He wished she had been his first too…as she should have been.

He began an agonizingly slow pace, while Gwen’s body adjusted. And her body began to relax. The initial pain began to dull and that familiar warmth was taking it’s place.

When she finally wrapped an urging leg high up around his thigh, he let go…Grunting and moaning along in time with his frantic movements.

He couldn’t wait for her, this time.

“Ahh, Guinevere!” He said through clenched his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut as he came, life pouring into his life.

He collapsed on top of her and kissed her, a hand worrying at her curls.

After a long blissful afterglow, Arthur fell asleep.

His head lay between her breasts, while Gwen still awake and not-quite-believing, planted a kiss atop his head.

“…Yours forever, Arthur.”



4 responses to “THE PRINCE’S CHAMBERS

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