Once & Forever

A year and a half later, Katrina found herself standing back in front of the entrance of Camelot. She had thought, hoped even, that she would never return. But there had been talk. Talk that the Lady Morgana had revealed herself as a sorceress, and fled the kingdom. Talk that the King Uther had fallen. And talk that Arthur Pendragon was now king of Camelot.

Katrina hadn't returned because she had been summoned, she was there because the feel of looming danger was just around the corner. The lands around Camelot had grown unsafe, and it became exhausting, constantly watching her back. Though she wasn't sure how much safer she would feel in Camelot. But if she were to be honest, her safety wasn't the first and true reason she had come back.

"Kat?" The voice gave her a star, and she whirled, sword in hand. Merlin almost dropped everything he was carrying.

She sighed out, in relief. "Merlin." She glanced at his load. "Gathering herbs for Gaius?"

"What are you doing here?" His voice was deeper; a little more hard; a little more cold.

"I... I heard Arthur is king, now?"

"He is."

"How is he doing?"

Merlin finally smiled at her, which brought her more relief than she realized she would feel. "Why don't you come in and see for yourself?" His word brought her back to the night of her celebration, the night when Arthur danced with her.

"I..." she trailed off, unsure of the words she wanted to say. "I'm not sure I'll be entirely welcome."

"Because of how you left things?"

Katrina winced, as though Merlin had dealt her a physical blow. Was he sour about how things had ended? Did he blame her? Did he even know what had happened with Arthur? Maybe not, but he was smart enough to put the pieces together.

"I didn't leave things. Arthur made it very clear how things were to be. And I had done my job. I wasn't needed in Camelot anymore."

"Of course you were needed," Merlin murmured, his expression softening a bit.

"Arthur made it clear," she repeated.

"Arthur wasn't being honest. Arthur didn't even know..." Didn't know what? But she knew. Because she hadn't known either. Not until it was too late. "Come on, come in with me. Gaius will be happy to see you. You didn't say goodbye." Merlin began to walk toward the citadel. Katrina was quick to follow.

"I'm... Sorry about that."

Merlin was quiet for a moment, right up until they reached the steps in front of the castle. "I understand," he finally said. Katrina turned to him. "I understand why you left. I understand why you're scared. I just... Just give Arthur a chance. He's different; things are different."

They were about to head up the stairs when they heard Merlin's name being shouted. The voice was drawing closer, from within the castle. "Merlin!" Arthur stepped outside and started to yell at his servant again, but quickly stopped when he saw Katrina right beside him. She couldn't read the look on his face. Likewise, he wasn't sure how to deconstruct her expression. But she could see him breathe her name.

She waited for him to come to her. "What are you doing here?" His voice, too, had hardened. It carried a certain weight with it; a heaviness.

"I'm sorry," she started, catching him off guard. Was she apologizing for leaving? "I heard about your father." Oh. His expression remained stoic, despite the ever-present, battling feelings inside of him. "But you're king now." Her eyes seemed to be searching his face. Maybe for something that they would never find.

"That I am." He seemed to stand a little taller when he said this.

"Well, it suits you, Your Highness."

"I-" Arthur started, and then stopped, feeling the corner of his mouth pull upward. That gleam in her eyes... She was messing with him. "It's good to see you again, Katrina." Rather unexpectedly, he pulled her into a hug. She tensed immediately, but allowed herself to fall into it a little more, as she returned the embrace.

"So... Do your kingly duties keep you from training?" She raised an eyebrow, as she pulled back.

Arthur smirked. "I don't see why they shouldn't."

It felt almost as though nothing had changed, as Arthur and Katrina faced off in the field. Except that Arthur was better. He was more alert, more level-headed, and more keen, as he eyed her face for any betrayal of emotion. This time, he was the first one to strike, and it nearly knocked her off of her feet. He flashed a boyish grin, and returned back to his original position, careful with his footwork, as they danced their way around in circles.

Katrina lashed out, and they began to parry with one another, almost matching the other blow-for-blow. But then Katrina ducked, swiping behind Arthur's knees, and bringing him to the grass with a thud. She leaned down over him, smirking. "I think I've earned the right to finally kick your ass." Her smile vanished and she let out a yelp of surprise, as the king flipped her onto her back, and lightly rested his blade against her neck.

"And yet, I can still best you." She felt like he was staring at her for an inordinate amount of time and she felt her face growing hot.

Arthur finally got up, helping her to her feet. She cleared her throat and picked up her sword. "Then I can honestly teach you nothing, Arthur Pendragon." She smiled in earnest and sheathed her sword.

"That may be, but you don't have to leave. Stay, at least for a few nights. Surely you didn't travel all the way here for a quick spar?" They were walking back up to the castle, their steps almost synchronized.

"That's very kind of you, Arthur. I suppose it would be rude of me to deny you, would it not?"

"I won't take it to heart, if you don't care to." He had stopped walking. She stopped and turned to him.

"Arthur..."

"I have some business to attend to, but I will see you at supper?" He wasn't looking at her now. She, too, reverted her eyes.

"Yes, I'll be there. But no fancy feasts on my account, please." She didn't want to embarrass herself any further.

"I was thinking something... quieter. Maybe just a meal in my chambers?"

"O-Oh. Of course." So there was still a chance of her making herself a fool, apparently.

Later that night, she found herself in the same room that she had been offered before - two doors down from Arthur's chambers. When it came time to join him for supper, Gwen brought her a flowing, white dress, presumably from what Morgana left behind. "White is a good color on you, my lady," Gwen said as Katrina stepped from behind the partition.

"Is it?" She glanced down at herself, and then chuckled. "I'm so used to wearing black. This looks very... odd." She looked back up at Gwen, who was practically beaming*. "Is it really that good? I almost prefer the crimson dress."

"I think the Lady Morgana took that with her. But she left most of her old clothes behind. I'm sure I can find you something... darker, if you prefer. What about purple?"

Katrina laughed. "No, no, Gwen. Truly, this is fine. It's just... different. All of this is different."

Guinevere quickly caught onto the nuance in Kat's words, and nodded. "Yes. Things definitely are very different, now that Arthur king. But he has the love and support of his people, so he's off to a very good start."

Katrina cocked a brow. "Gwen..." she began. "Do you... have feelings for Arthur?"

Gwen seemed taken aback. "Arthur? Oh, no, no..." The look in her eyes was suddenly very sad, and Katrina almost regretted asking the question. "My heart... It... It belongs to Lancelot."

The blonde smiled. "And does he feel the same?"

"He did..."

"Did?"

"He gave his life, for Camelot, not long before Uther passed."

"Gwen... I... I'm so sorry," Katrina murmured.

"It... It didn't matter anyways. I'm just a-"

"You are so much more than just a serving girl, Guinevere. You are... You are beautiful, and kind, and sweet, and charismatic, and charming, and caring, and... I could go on," she said with a laugh. "When Morgana left, and Uther died, you became more than just a maid, Gwen." Kat's hands were on the woman's shoulders now, and it was her turn to smile at her. "Follow your heart, Gwen. Lancelot would want that for you."

"As should you, my lady." Gwen smiled knowingly, and then began to quickly usher the mercenary out of the door. "Go see him." She smiled at Kat, as the blonde glanced over her shoulder, nervously. "And Katrina?" She turned once more to look at Guinevere. "Thank you," Gwen said, softly.

She then walked the few paces to Arthur's chamber doors. She hesitated, ready to knock, when the door flew open, and Merlin nearly barreled into her.

"Kat! I'm sorry!" he quickly stabled the woman by putting his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Honestly, I'm a bit nervous," she murmured, so only Merlin could hear.

He chuckled. "Trust me, there's nothing to be nervous about."

"Merlin?" Arthur called, from inside his room.

"He's ready, if you want to go in." Merlin stepped aside and gently nudged Katrina toward the partially open door. She swallowed and took a deep breath, as if trying to quell any fears she had. And she was. But she stepped through the doors; doors that shut quietly behind her, as Merlin left.

Her and Arthur's eyes met immediately, and they both seemed to be at a loss for words. Arthur was in a loose, white tunic, and dark trousers. Katrina's hair was in loose waves that fell to just above her hips, pulled to one side over her shoulder. Arthur's golden hair was loose, and unkempt, but in more of a royal way; it in no way looked messy. They almost matched.

"Katrina." Her name was almost just a breath on his lips. He pulled out a seat and motioned for her to join him. The food looked incredible, and she realized she had not eaten at all that day. She almost bowed to him, before taking the seat. As she eyed the food, she laughed a little.

"Merlin prepared all of this?"

Arthur looked a little surprised, and then a bit sheepish. "I don't know how to cook," he admitted, as he took his own seat, at the head of the table.

"I haven't had much experience myself," she said. "But I do know how to make a few things. Nothing fit for royalty, though." She laughed. Arthur poured wine into her chalice, and then his own.

"Maybe you could sneak down to the kitchen and make something, some time," he half joked. He didn't know how long she was planning on staying this time around. He didn't want to drive her away just yet, though.

“Maybe,” she said, as she took her first bite of the meal. Arthur watched her for a moment, before tucking into the meal.

They mostly ate in silence, occasionally commenting on the quality of the meal, and taking sips of their wine. Several chalices later, Katrina could feel her face radiating heat; she felt calm, and reposed.

“Thank you for the meal, Arthur. It was the best I’ve had since… Well, since I was last in Camelot.”

“Only the best for my guest of honor,” he said with a chuckle.

She almost snorted. “I’m hardly honorable.”

“You,” he stated. “Are the most honorable woman that I know.”

She might have blushed, had her cheeks not already been flushed with wine. “Even though… I just left?”

Arthur grew quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

The mood was almost somber, now.

“I should… Retire for the night,” she murmured, as she got to her feet. Though, she was a little light-headed, and tripped on the hem of hem of her dress. Arthur was out of his chair, catching her before her brain could even register exactly what was happening. “Ah… Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Arthur helped her back to her feet, but he didn’t release her. He had grown more taught in the year she had been gone. He was sturdy before, but even more strapping now.

“I’m sorry…” she began to whisper. But Arthur was silencing her with his lips. His soft, pliable lips, that were so gentle on hers. It was if he was asking for permission. Katrina hesitated, but she couldn’t hold out for long. She’d be lying if she said that she hadn’t fantasized about that near moment, many times over, before. She melted into him, resting her hands on his chest, and slightly parted her lips.

Arthur’s hand came up, his fingers tangling in her soft hair, as he held the back of her head. He kept his kiss gentle, almost timid. It was an apology in itself. In an answer, Katrina kissed him back, a little harder this time, and swept her tongue over his lower lip. His hand on her back pressed harder against her, and his hand almost fisted in her hair. He was hungry for more, but he was holding back. They both could feel it: that tension that they had so long ago was still there, even tenfold now.

Katrina’s hands moved, cupping his face. She nipped his lower lip, almost playfully. Arthur nearly groaned. It was a still noise, but an appreciative one. He wasn’t admonishing, but provoking her. He picked her arms, like a queen, and carried her over to his bed. She felt her back hit the soft mattress, and all the air left her lungs. Arthur leaned over her. His cheeks were almost as rosy as hers. Her breathing came quicker now, with the way that he gazed down at her. He leaned down and kissed her over and over again, until his lips left hers, and began to trail down her jaw line, down her neck, and over her collarbones.

She sighed his name, and his fingertips dug into her hips. Her fingers were in his air, sending it astray, as she grasped at the strands. She tilted her head back, arching her back up into him, as he lavished her. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against her chest, and her skin broke out in goose bumps, as she shivered. One of Arthur’s hands came up, and he pulled the neckline of the dress off of her shoulder. He trailed kisses in the wake of where the fabric used to be. Her skin burst into flame at the touch of his lips.

Katrina ran her hands down Arthur’s muscular back until they caught the hem of his shirt. She began to pull it up his torso, as he continued to kiss at her heated flesh, working his way back over her collarbones. He lifted his body off of hers, helping her to remove his shirt. She ran her hands over his warm chest, admiring the way his muscles felt under her hands, just as he admired her features; her beautiful features.

Arthur felt light-headed, and not just from the wine, because he could hold his alcohol pretty well. Her skin was light, and soft, underneath his fingertips, and her skin tasted of roses and salt. She was addicting, enticing, alluring. He wanted to drown in her, and never come back up for air. He groaned as her nails raked a trail down his chest, toward his trousers. Her pulled the top of her dress down further, with little disregard to how he treated the fabric. It was Morgana’s originally – it held no sentimental meaning to him, anyhow.

There was a soft hissing that came from Katrina’s parted lips, as Arthur’s knuckles brushed over her breasts. Her dark eyes were on his face, now, and he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned down, and caught her lips with his. He synched the dress down to her hips, and heard himself groan with delight as he lowered his chest back to hers, and felt her flesh flush against his own. She was warm, and inviting. Her arms encircled his back, and she dug her fingers into his shoulder blades.

He continued to kiss her, until he heard, and felt her giggle. He pulled back, puzzled. He couldn’t help his eyes run over the top of her form – her perfect breasts, her taught stomach, and the way her hips dipped underneath the sheer fabric of the dress. He was aching to immerse himself in her in every way possible.

“We’re drunk,” she said, with another giggle. He had never heard that sound from her before. He smiled.

“You might be, but I feel fine,” he murmured. She gently pushed at his chest. He rolled off of her, and lay beside her on the bed, keeping their arms touching.

“Arthur, you had at least as much wine as I did, if not more.” She turned her face toward his. Their eyes met. “You can’t tell me you’re not the least bit inebriated.”

I’m drunk on you, alone, he wanted to say. Instead, he licked his lips, and spoke. “Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?”

Now, she grew quiet. She closed her eyes for a few moments, and Arthur thought that maybe she had fallen asleep. She opened them again, slowly, lazily. “Can I… Just stay here, with you?”

“Of course,” he answered. His hand found hers. “Would you like Merlin to fetch a nightgown for you?”

“No,” she simply answered.

He was puzzled. “Then… What are you going to wear to sleep in?”

She snatched his tunic up from beside him and pulled it over her head. “This works just fine.” She smiled. She then began to wriggle out of the rest of the dress. Arthur had to try not to gawk as she got up, in nothing but his tunic, and her undergarment, and placed the dress over his dressing curtain. She returned to the bed, looking at him expectantly. “Are we just going to sleep on the duvet?”

Arthur quickly got up, and pulled the blankets back for her. Normally, Merlin turned down his bed for him. But he was not about to ask Merlin to come in, now, out of all times. She continued to wait. He looked at her.

“It’s your bed, you get in first,” she offered.

Arthur smiled, and slipped in, leaving plenty of room for her to crawl in next to him. When she did, he let the sheets fall over her form, and he wrapped his body around hers, holding her close to him. For, in truth, he never wanted to let her go again. That was one of his biggest regrets, letting her go the first time. He heard her breathing deepen, and knew she was already falling into slumber. He pulled her hair away from her neck, and kissed the back of it.