As much as Arthur and Guinevere intended to stay in touch, it proved difficult. Uther keeps Arthur ridiculously busy, so most of the time he doesn't get a chance to look through Guinevere's social media posts and messages until very late at night or very early in the morning.

Guinevere isn't any less busy. Their small resort isn't terribly busy, but her father's health has started to decline, so he's officially put her in charge of things. To further complicate matters, Elyan has decided to follow his heart and pursue the career he wants in sports medicine, which means he's gone back to school. In Miami. Luckily, she has an excellent and trustworthy staff, and the resort is not overbooked (quite far from it, which is another concern), but it doesn't make her life any less hectic. Most of her communications to Arthur consist of photos she takes of things around the island. He always asks her for selfies, but she only complies sometimes, preferring to be behind the lens instead of in front of it.

The five-hour time difference doesn't help much, either. They've managed to have a few Skype "dates" that mostly involved Guinevere eating breakfast while Arthur has lunch or Guinevere having lunch while Arthur eats dinner.

They have never defined what their relationship is, but neither of them see anyone else, despite the fact that Guinevere has had plenty of offers and Arthur routinely attends events to which most people bring a date. He always goes alone, to the irritation of his father and the confusion of the paparazzi (especially considering he used to bring dates). Society and gossip pages constantly speculate on Arthur's sudden, stubborn commitment to bachelorhood, with speculation ranging from "he's secretly married" to "he's asexual". None have come up with the truth: his heart belongs only to his tropical goddess 4000 miles away.

xXx

Summer ends and fall drapes over London like a thick gray blanket made of Cold. It's rainy and miserable all the time. Or at least it seems so.

Arthur's patience with his father and Pendragon Industries snaps with the advent of cold weather, and one day he finds himself packing up his office and walking out in something of a euphoric daze. Once home, he silences his mobile and immediately starts searching for airline tickets.

A week later, he steps off of a plane, blinking in the bright sunlight as he gropes for his sunglasses. As he rides in a taxi to the Angelfish Resort, he begins to worry.

I should have told her I was coming.

What if she doesn't want me anymore?

Ugh why did I think surprising her was a good idea?

The resort isn't the biggest or most extravagant hotel in the area, but it appears to be very well-tended and is spotlessly clean. The bellman attends him immediately, ushering him inside.

"Welcome to the Angelfish," a middle-aged woman greets from behind the counter. "Do you… have a reservation?" she asks. She appears slightly puzzled and Arthur realizes it must be because she knows he doesn't.

There must not be anyone with a reservation due in today. He remembers the few things Guinevere has mentioned about business being low, and frowns a little before granting the desk clerk a charming smile.

"No, I don't," he answers, removing his sunglasses. He folds them and hangs them on the neck of his shirt, clasping his hands on the counter. "I thought I'd roll the dice on your having a room," he looks at her nametag, "Jewel." Then he smiles at her.

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Well, Mister…"

"Pendragon," he supplies, his eyes darting around the lobby, looking for glimpses of Guinevere.

"Mr. Pendragon, it just so happens we have several rooms available," she answers, not looking terribly happy about this fact.

"Excellent," he says. "I'll take the best one you have."

"Oh," Jewel softly exclaims, checking her computer. "For how many nights?"

"Ah. Hmm. I'm not sure," Arthur answers.

She peers up at him over the top of her reading glasses. "How can you not be sure?"

He sighs. "It might be one night. It might be quite a while. It really depends on someone else."

"I need to put something down," she says, losing patience with this strange white Englishman.

"Perhaps you can help me then," he says. "I'm actually here to see Guinevere Leodegrance."

Jewel stares at him. She takes her glasses off, letting them dangle from their chain around her neck, and looks at him again. Her eyes widen. "You are him! She showed me pictures of you."

Arthur's eyebrows rise, hope daring to sprout in his chest. "She did?" he asks.

"You're better looking in person, boy," she appraises. "You really did a number on Miss Gwen's heart, you did," she adds. "She hasn't been on one date since she got back from that Morgana gal's wedding."

He smiles, the tiny sprout of hope growing into a full bloom. "I'm hoping to surprise her," he says. "And…"

"How long you stay depends on how she receives your surprise," she finishes, nodding. "Let me ask you this: how long do you want to stay?"

"For as long as she'll have me," he answers, looking Jewel straight in the eyes.

"All right then," she replies with a definitive nod, and Arthur decides he must have given the correct answer. "Miss Gwen ain't here right now."

"When do you expect her back?"

Jewel looks at the clock. "Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. She's giving a tour to an older couple from Minnesota."

Arthur knows tours are one of the services they provide, and knows Guinevere often gives them, so he is not surprised. "Can I wait here?" he asks, pointing to a grouping of couches and chairs in the lobby.

"Of course," she answers. "You got an awfully small suitcase for a man who wants to stay indefinitely," she observes.

"I'll have the rest sent. If I even want it," he answers, then sits in an upholstered wicker chair. In the short time since he has left his father's company, he's noticed a definite shift in his priorities.

A few minutes later, Jewel walks over with a bottle of water and sets it on the end table beside him. "Here you go, Sugar," she says, pats his shoulder, then heads back to the desk.

"Thank you," he answers, smiling. I seem to have won over Miss Jewel at least.

Arthur sends Merlin a text while he waits, letting him know he's arrived safely and is currently waiting for Guinevere to return to the resort. Merlin's reply is succinct.

You are crazy, but good luck to you.

He also has a text from Uther which he reads but doesn't answer right now. The heated conversation they had three days prior is still fresh in his mind. Uther said a few things that could not be un-said, and Arthur needs some time before he can be civil again.

He is just finishing catching up on his Words With Friends games when he hears her laughter. His head snaps sharply up, and he catches Jewel in his periphery, moving to a better viewing spot behind the desk. He doesn't care. Let her watch. Probably the most excitement she's had all month, from the looks of things.

"…grew up in the UK actually. My family is originally from here, and we moved back here when I was…" Guinevere's voice trails off as she sees Arthur standing in the middle of her lobby, his face solemn and hopeful. "…eighteen," she dumbly finishes, her voice suddenly breathy. "Excuse me," she says, glancing at her guests.

The couple quickly figure out what is going on and nod, saying, "Oh, of course, please," as they stand there and watch along with Jewel and the bellman, who has also wandered inside.

Guinevere takes a couple halting steps towards Arthur, and he moves out from the middle of the furniture.

"Surprise?" he ventures.

A moment later she launches herself at him, and he easily catches her, wrapping his arms around her body and lifting her off her feet as he tucks his face into her neck, deeply inhaling the scent of her. Her hair tickles his face but he welcomes it; her arms around his neck are almost choking him but he doesn't care. She's in his arms again.

They loosen their grasp on one another just enough to crash their lips together in a messy kiss, salty and wet with tears neither of them realize they were shedding.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asks, her hands cupping his face, thumbs idly wiping his cheeks.

"I…" The words are gone. He kisses her once more and tries again. "I missed you," he says. It's inadequate.

"I missed you, too," she replies. "I missed you so much." Then she realizes he's probably staying for a week, maybe two, and throws her arms around him again, hugging him tightly.

"Oh!" he exclaims, wrapping his arms around her. "What's this?"

"I'm so happy you're here, but… how long are you staying?" she asks. "A week?" She leans her head back and sheepishly adds, "Two?"

He gently extracts himself from her arms, holding her hands in his. "How long do you want me to stay?" he asks, kissing her knuckles.

"It's unfair of me to give you the answer I want to give," she says.

"Try me," he presses. The seriousness of his expression gives her pause, and she forgets to breathe for a few seconds.

Guinevere looks down, then to the side. She notices Jewel and the others watching like they wish they had popcorn, and decides to ignore them. "I don't want you to ever leave," she whispers.

Arthur's face breaks into a broad grin and he jubilantly kisses her, lifting her off of her feet again.

The four onlookers cheer, and Arthur and Gwen break apart, slightly embarrassed.

"But… how? I mean, your job… your father," Guinevere asks, taking his hand and leading him to her office and some privacy.

"I quit," he simply answers. "I realized that I was living his life, not mine. That the life I had been living wasn't what I wanted."

She closes the door and leans against it, facing him. "What is it you want, Arthur?" she asks.

"You," he replies. Then he traps her body against the door and kisses her.

Guinevere melts into the kiss, able to fully abandon herself to it now that they don't have an audience. But when his fingers start working the skirt of her sundress up, she puts her hand over his. "Arthur," she gasps.

"Does your door lock?" he asks, undeterred, his lips on her neck.

"Yes, but…" she trails off, momentarily distracted. She feels his hand on the skin of her thigh and regroups. "Arthur. The walls are very thin, and I'd bet money Jewel and Deniz are right outside listening," she whispers, pushing him away from the door.

He relents, understanding her need to maintain a level of professionalism. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, kissing her forehead, then resting his against it. "Three months is a long time," he says.

"I know," she agrees. A slow, wicked smile crosses her face. "And the one Skype call we had… where you stayed up till 2 a.m. so we could…"

He groans and kisses her. "Oh yeah…" he says, remembering that naughty little episode and wishing there could have been more of them. "The time difference was the worst," he says.

"Can we sit?" she asks. Her office doesn't have much by way of furniture: a desk with a chair, a filing cabinet, and another chair.

He nods, and watches as she walks around and sits behind the desk. He takes a seat in the other chair. "I feel like I'm in the Headmistress' office," he says. "Am I in trouble, Headmistress?"

She laughs. "Still incorrigible." She takes a deep breath and just looks at him. He's really here. "Tell me what happened."

Arthur sighs heavily and leans back in his chair. Then the words start falling out of him, how he felt like his father's puppet, how he didn't feel like he was doing anything that was worth anything, how he began to hate himself. And how much he missed her. How thinking of her made his dull existence seem like it was worth something. How he lived for every tiny text, photo, and emoji she sent him, even if he couldn't always reply as quickly as he would have liked.

"And that's just the thing, Guinevere. My priorities were all buggered up. I was putting things that made me miserable before things that made me happy." He scoots his chair closer to her desk and stretches his arms across it, asking for her hands. She willingly gives them, waiting for him to continue. "I know we were together for just over 24 hours, and have been very nearly like passing ships for three months, but the thing is…" He skates his thumbs over her knuckles and says, "I love you, Guinevere. I love you and if you're here, then this is where I want to be."

She jumps up and leans across the desk, knocking a few things over in the process as she stretches over to kiss him. "I love you, too," she whispers, then kisses him again.

"I knew it when I dropped you off at the airport," he admits, guiding her around the desk to come sit on his lap. "But I didn't think it would be fair to say it then. And also I didn't want to freak you out."

She giggles, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You just decided to show your love by upgrading my airline ticket, that's all," she says. He nods, and she adds, "You wouldn't have freaked me out at all, either, because I felt the same way."

"You did?" he asks, looking down at her.

She nods, snuggling against his chest. "I probably should be working, you know."

"Possibly," he answers. He traces her cheek with a finger. "God, is it possible that you've gotten more beautiful?" he idly asks.

"No," she laughs, sitting up. "So what do you plan on doing here anyway?"

"Well, I have a very significant amount of money from when my mum died, so I can be a beach bum for quite a while if I want," he says. "But I reckon I'll need a place to live, so there'll be that to keep me busy for a bit," he says. He would happily live with Guinevere, but her father might make for a rather awkward roommate. Then a thought that has been formulating in the back of his mind since he walked into the hotel marches to the front of his brain and demands attention. "Guinevere," he says, face turning serious.

"Yes?" she asks, intrigued by his sudden change in tone. She moves out of his lap and brings her chair around to the other side of the desk so she can sit closer to him.

"Forgive me, but it doesn't appear that your little resort is… seeing a tremendous number of guests," he observes. "You mentioned that things have been a bit slow, but this…"

She frowns. "Okay, yeah, we've been very slow," she slowly nods. "We seem to have lost our niche, or whatever. I mean, I know we're not huge and we don't have some of the amenities that the bigger places have, but we have a good portion of the best stretch of beach on this island and… well, how many resorts are there that are still family run? By its original family?"

He loves her enthusiasm and passion for this hotel, and becomes swept up in it. I know I can help make this place great. "My love, do you recall exactly what my position was at Pendragon Industries?" he asks.

"You were Vice President in charge of Marketing and… Public… Relations…" she says, realization dawning. "Arthur…"

"Miss Leodegrance, would you consider hiring me? I can provide you with a C.V. and references if you require," he asks, straightening up and appearing very businesslike apart from the fond twinkle in his eyes.

"I'll be in touch," she answers, moving to stand. He grabs her around the waist and pulls her back onto his lap. "Arthur!" she exclaims, then immediately puts her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"Let me help you. Please," he softly says, gently peeling her fingers away from her mouth so he can kiss it. "Let me use my skills to do something that will mean something, not only to me, but to you."

"Yes," she answers, nuzzling his nose with hers. "But first, you have to meet my father. He's not officially in charge anymore, but… his opinion is very important to me, and I'd like his input."

"Of course," he immediately replies.

xXx

Two Weeks Later

What do you mean you're not coming home?

Arthur stares at Uther's text. He doesn't know how he can make things any clearer. How to make his father understand that his home is here now. His home is where Guinevere is.

I am staying in Turks and Caicos, Father. A permanent move. Merlin is sending me some of my things and Leon has instructions for what to do with the rest. I'm happy here, and I hope you can accept that.

He doesn't tell his father that Leon will be moving out here soon as well. Not thrilled with his new position in Pendragon Industries, he asked Arthur if he could remain under his employ. After discussing it with Guinevere, a Skype call so Guinevere could meet Leon, and another Skype call with Guinevere and her father, they decided he would make an ideal hotel manager, freeing up Guinevere's time to lead tours (which she enjoys) and fully take on the role of owner.

Arthur's phone pings again. He sighs, but his expression quickly changes when he sees it's not from his father.

Lunch?

He gets up and walks from his office to Guinevere's next door, entering without knocking.

"Lazy?" he asks, grinning at her.

"Yes," she answers, laughing. "I still love that I can summon you at will," she admits, standing and crossing to him. "The novelty has not worn off yet." She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.

"Mmm, these dresses you wear are going to be the death of me," he rumbles, skating his lips over her bare shoulders. Her dress isn't revealing or even very short, but Arthur seems to have a definite thing for her shoulders. And this particular sundress is strapless.

"Arthur…" she says, trying to protest. "I'm hungry."

"Me, too." He gently bites her neck.

"For lunch," she reminds him. "I want… mmm… I want to check the restaurant."

"Okay," he answers, pecking her lips. "It hasn't been very long, but we can see what's going on." One of the first suggestions he made was to update, brighten up, and promote the resort's restaurant, which is open to the public. "If we get non-guests coming to dine and they enjoy their experience, perhaps they'll consider staying here next time," he had advised.

As they walk the short distance, Arthur's mobile pings. His hand automatically goes to grab it, but remembers he is no longer his father's flunky, and drops his hand.

"You can get that," Guinevere says.

"It's all right," he replies. "Just a reflex I need to retrain." It pings again.

"See who it is at least," she urges.

He takes his phone out and sees two texts from Elena.

Are you really staying there?

UTHER IS THROWING A TANTRUM BLOODY HELL YOU REALLY ARE STAYING THERE.

Arthur chuckles. Poor Elena; she must be over at their fathers' for dinner. He angles his phone so Guinevere can see.

"Oh dear," she says.

HOW DARE YOU ABANDON ME!

The third text comes while they are looking at the phone.

"She's just being dramatic," Arthur says. "She doesn't work for Uther; she'll be fine." He sends a reply saying basically what he's just told Gwen, and they start walking again.

"How was she exempt?" Guinevere asks.

"She's a Gawant, not a Pendragon," he shrugs. "Godwin doesn't have the same… dictatorial bent Father does, even though he is basically Uther's equal in the company. I mean, they would have found a place for her if she had wanted to work for them, but she didn't want to. Godwin gave her his blessing, and Uther couldn't – or wouldn't – dispute it." He gets another text, and laughs when he reads I'm going to take up a collection and send them to Gwen's resort on vacation.

He shows Guinevere and she says, "We could do with prominent guests like that actually."

"Fair point," Arthur allows. He texts back Bring it.

"What does Elena do?" Guinevere asks.

"Interior design," he answers.

"We should consult with her on updating this place. Once things pick up enough so we can afford to, of course," she thoughtfully suggests as they walk into the restaurant.

"Good idea," he nods. "I mean, unless you know someone local we should use. I think we should keep this place as authentic as we can."

"Yes, absolutely. Hello, Olivia," she greets the hostess.

"Miss Gwen, Mister Arthur," Olivia smiles. "Would you like a table?"

"We'd love one, thank you," Arthur answers.

xXx

Three Months Later

The lobby isn't hectic, but it is busier than they've been in at least a year. Between updating the website, investing in some serious international advertising, and Leon running the Angelfish like a well-oiled machine, business is really picking up.

Arthur got to meet Elyan over Christmas, and Guinevere's brother was glad to see how business was picking up under Arthur's guidance and thrilled to see how happy he makes his big sister.

Merlin and Morgana came out for a short, four-day mini-vacation over New Year's, booking the Honeymoon Suite despite having been married for nearly six months.

The hotel staff have fully embraced Arthur as one of their own, and Jewel regularly jokes about wanting to adopt him (among other things). Leon has settled in as manager quite well, and seems to have his eye on a local artisan named Bella, who sells handmade jewelry from a stall near the resort. He just hasn't been brave enough to ask her out yet.

Arthur looks down at the black box resting on his palm, pondering its contents, wondering for the thousandth time if it is too soon to ask. He's happier than he's ever been here on the island, with warm Caribbean breezes and friendly Caribbean people and his beautiful Caribbean goddess.

He feels like more than just a pawn in the massive chess game that is Pendragon Industries. He feels like he is helping to build something that actually matters here. He feels truly comfortable, truly himself, truly home for the first time in his life.

He opens the box. And now he wants more. He wants the final piece.

He closes it again and slips it into his pocket. As he exits his suite – he has chosen to just live at the hotel rather than finding a place – he thinks of the one very practical reason to act sooner rather than later: Tom isn't getting any healthier, and Arthur knows it will mean a lot to Guinevere for her father to walk her down the aisle, even if she is actually supporting him while they walk.

"I know what you're on about, Mr. Arthur," Jewel calls as he passes the front desk. She is just finishing her shift. "I know that look."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur replies, unable to hide his grin. He pauses near Jewel and offers his arm. "May I?"

"Sugar, you better," Jewel answers, taking his arm. "I'm goin' the same way you know."

"I know," Arthur replies. Jewel lives just beyond Tom's house. They wave to Naomi behind the desk and head out. The sun is getting low in the sky, and Arthur hopes to capitalize on what he hopes will be a beautiful sunset.

They chat companionably as they walk, which basically consists of Jewel keeping up a running commentary about everything going on around them, sprinkled with whispered gossip about certain individuals and what they're doing with whom.

When they stop at the walkway to Guinevere's house, Jewel turns to Arthur and says, "She'll say yes."

Arthur softly chuckles to himself. "If you say so."

"Sugar, I've known Miss Gwen for ten years now. And I ain't ever seen her in love with someone like she's in love with you. If I'm wrong, you can dock my pay for a month," she assures him. She puts her warm hand on his arm and says, "I'm sure because when I look at the two of you, I see me and my Isaac… over 30 years ago now."

Arthur smiles, a bit surprised. Guinevere had told him that Jewel was a widow, but she never speaks of her late husband. He's also surprised because Jewel is apparently quite a bit older than she appears.

His surprise must be visible on his face, because Jewel breaks out in a loud laugh. "Yes, honey, I'm easily old enough to be your mama and then some. Now go." She leans up and gives him a peck on the cheek before walking off, her stride quick and businesslike.

He watches, laughing, as she pauses to scold a passing cat, then turns down the walkway. He can see Tom sitting on the porch, watching him approach as though he, too, knows, what Arthur is "on about".

"Big Tom", they call him. Tom Leodegrance is a tall, burly man with kind, crinkly eyes that sparkle with fondness when he looks at his daughter. Arthur immediately recognized him as "Big Tom Leo", a former professional rugby player who was a favorite of Uther's when Arthur was a child. Big Tom's career was short but memorable, his early retirement caused by a career-ending injury to his back which has become the source of most of his current medical issues.

"You're a bit early," Tom greets Arthur when he is close enough.

"I know. I came to talk to you for a few minutes first," Arthur replies, climbing the steps to the porch.

Tom nods, leaning forward to set his drink on the table. When he grimaces, Arthur gently lifts it from his hand and sets it down for him.

"Thanks," he sighs, then looks over at Arthur. "Don't get old. It's a real bugger."

"I'll try not to," Arthur answers.

After a moment spent watching a large bird swoop onto the lawn and peck around for bugs, Tom says, "I know what you're trying to work up to ask me."

Arthur leans back in his chair, withdraws the box from his pocket, and hands it across to Tom. "I love Guinevere. You know this. I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making her happy. With your blessing, of course."

Tom takes the box, but doesn't open it. "She was sad when she came back from Morgana's wedding. I thought something terrible had happened," he comments. "Turns out she was just missing you." He looks over at Arthur. "You're serious about this then," he says. "Giving up a life of luxury, a life of being a Pendragon… for her."

Arthur pauses a moment before answering. "I don't see that I'm giving anything up, sir," he answers. "The way I see it, I am gaining everything. I told Guinevere when I first arrived here: my priorities were out of whack. Now they're just about where they should be."

Tom turns the box over in his fingers, still not opening it. "You make my Gwennie happy," he observes. Then he hands Arthur the box and says, "See that it continues."

Arthur takes the box back and returns it to his pocket. "Guinevere's happiness is my first priority," he answers. "I know we haven't known each other a very long time, but… she is everything to me."

"Good. Because she's everything to me, too," Tom replies, offering his hand. Arthur shakes it and Tom simply says, "Go on."

Arthur hands Tom his drink, stands, then pauses by the door. "You didn't want to see the ring?"

"Wouldn't be right for me to see it before she does," Tom answers, then takes a sip of his drink.

xXx

Guinevere is in the kitchen, putting together some dinner for her father. Arthur walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"Oh!" she exclaims, tilting her head to the side as he kisses her neck. "You're early."

"Thought we could take a walk on the beach before dinner," he says, still nuzzling her. "It's a beautiful night and the sunset is starting to look pretty impressive."

"Sounds nice," she says. "You're really embracing this island lifestyle, aren't you?" she asks, turning in his arms.

"I love it," he answers, kissing her. "And I love you." He kisses her again to stop himself from proposing to her right there in the kitchen. "It's actually very… freeing, being here."

She smiles and steps out of his embrace to pick up her father's plate. "Freeing?" she asks. "Papa! Dinner!" she calls.

"Yeah… people thought I was the luckiest lad in the world, being Uther Pendragon's son… silver spoon firmly in my mouth, heir to an empire, the world at my feet," Arthur explains, leaning against the counter, watching Guinevere portion out some medications for her father while Big Tom slowly makes his way to the kitchen. "Honestly, it was stifling. I felt…"

"Trapped?" she asks.

"Yes," he sighs. "Trapped under expectations, trapped into becoming someone I apparently wasn't meant to be. Out here, with you… I can be myself."

She smiles. "I like that; you being yourself," she answers. "Make sure you take these after you've eaten some," she reminds her father, who came in while Arthur was talking.

"Yes, I know," Tom answers, sitting. "Thank you, sweetheart. This looks delicious."

"Arthur and I are going down to the beach for a bit before we go to dinner," she says, leaning down to kiss her father's cheek. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," he answers. "Don't you worry none about me."

"Sir," Arthur nods at Tom, then follows Guinevere out the back door.

"Oh, you're right," she sighs, looking up at the sky. She wraps a shawl she's brought around her shoulders as the breeze kicks up. "The sky is all pink and orange."

Arthur takes her hand, letting her lead. "Where are we going?" he asks. He's been on the Leodegrance family property nearly every day since he's been here, but this is the first time they've gone the way she's currently leading them.

"My secret place," she says, grinning back at him.

"Oh," he replies, but inside, his heart starts pounding. Does she know? Everyone else has read me like a large-print book; has she figured out my plan as well? "Any reason?" he asks, striving for casual.

"I remembered I haven't shown it to you yet," she answers, ducking under a low tree branch. "And I want to share it with you."

He smiles and mostly relaxes, following her down a slope to a hidden tidepool beside a few large rocks and a small, cavelike indentation. There's something inside the cave, and he squints, trying to see it. "What's that?"

"A big plastic zipper bag with a few blankets inside," she answers. "I keep them down here in case I get chilly."

He chuckles fondly at her, following her around the edge of the pool. "This is brilliant, Guinevere," he says. She sits on a boulder and he joins her. "What do you normally do down here?"

"Oh, sometimes I bring a book, or my iPod… or both. Sometimes I just sit and watch… everything. The clouds. The ocean. The pool," she answers, slipping her feet out of her sandals to just touch the water with her toes.

"Ever bring a boy down here?"

"You're the first person I've ever brought here," she answers, looking over at him.

He leans over and kisses her. "Thank you. I am honored."

"Like I said, I wanted to share this with you," she whispers.

He kisses her once more, his hand ghosting over the lump in his pocket. "I want to share everything with you," he says. The sky is turning more orange and red than pink now, the horizon aflame. "My whole life. Everything I have, everything I am is yours," he continues, reaching into his pocket. He awkwardly turns on the boulder, wishing there was a place he could kneel, but he can't wait any longer. "Will you marry me, Guinevere?" He opens the box and offers it to her.

"Yes, Arthur!" she breathily exclaims, throwing her arms around him, trapping the ring box between them. "Yes," she repeats, whispering in his ear, her lips brushing against the outer shell. Then she pulls back and fervently kisses him.

When they part, the ring almost falls into the tide pool, but Arthur catches the box just in time. "Whoa, we better get this on your finger before some sea creature decides to make off with it," he says. He removes it from the box and slides it onto her finger.

"It fits pretty well," she says, admiring it. "It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's. I had it restored, and Merlin brought it with when he and Morgana came," Arthur explains. "We can get it sized if it's too big," he observes, holding her hand. It looks good. Like it belongs there. But it is just a little big.

"I love it," Guinevere answers. "I love you," she adds, echoing his earlier sentiment. Then she stands, tugging his hand.

"Where are we going now?" he asks, then immediately goes, "Oh," when leads him across to the little cave. She drops his hand and opens the bag holding the blankets.

"There may have been another reason why I brought you down here," she admits, spreading the blankets on the floor of the little cavern. "I didn't know you were going to propose, so now it's even more special." She invitingly lounges on the blankets, waiting for him.

"Mmm," he agrees, liking this surprisingly naughty side of her. He ducks into the cavern and drops over her, kissing her. "You say you've never brought anyone down here?" he asks.

Her fingers are already at his belt, unbuckling it. "Well, I'm not saying I've never had an orgasm down here, but—"

"Guinevere!" he yelps, laughing in surprise at her admission. "Wow, I was not expecting that…"

She giggles, slipping her hand inside his pants, her palm cool and soft against his rapidly-hardening member.

"God, I love you," he groans, latching onto her neck with his mouth as his right hand goes exploring, working the skirt of her sundress up, shifting slightly to free the material from under his legs. His hand moves higher, expecting to encounter the tiny bit of fabric that passes for her panties, but he finds nothing but warm, moist heat under his fingers. "Bloody hell," he curses, groping around more. "I think you forgot something."

"No, I didn't," she answers, reaching up with her free hand to push the top of her sundress down, exposing her breasts to him. "It was a very deliberate omission." Her voice is breathy and ragged, and Arthur cannot get enough of it or her.

"I think I just found your secret place," he murmurs, grinning against her skin while her gasp of pleasure turns into giggles, then back into a gasp.

"Oh… Arthur… we can't take to long…"

"I know," he answers, giving her nipple one more sucking kiss before positioning himself and sliding into her. "I don't think that'll be a problem," he rasps, finding her lips with his as he thrusts.

Guinevere reaches down and plunges her hands into the back of Arthur's trousers, which are open and resting halfway down his backside, squeezing the firm muscles there. He moves one hand to cup and gently squeeze her breast, kissing her all the while.

She takes the hand at her breast and moves it down, guiding it between them. He takes the hint and rubs soft, small circles until she cries out and bucks beneath him. He withdraws his hand, sweetly kisses her, then drives into her a few more times before he comes, his forehead resting against hers, eyes tightly closed, his body still.

"God, I love you," he exhales, carefully withdrawing from her, trying not to make a mess, as he knows they'll likely encounter Big Tom again before they go to dinner.

"I love you, too," she replies, quickly kissing him before straightening up and fixing the top of her sundress. "That was fun," she adds, grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Wasn't that hard on your back though?"

"A bit," she admits. He stands and helps her with the blankets, and they check one another over to make certain they look presentable.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry," Arthur says as they walk back to the house.

"Yes. I'd like to show my father before we go, if that's all right," Guinevere replies.

"Of course. I would have been surprised if you didn't."

They head inside, and Guinevere quickly visits the bathroom before they seek Tom out.

Tom is still in the kitchen, washing his plate at the sink. "How was your walk?" he asks, not turning around.

"Surprising," she answers, walking up to stand at her father's right side. She puts her left hand on top of her father's right.

Tom smiles and looks over at his daughter's beaming face. "I'm very happy for you, Gwennie," he says, quickly drying his hands, then hugging her tightly.

"He told you, didn't he," Gwen says, chuckling in her father's ear.

Tom pulls back and says, "He came and asked for my blessing, like a proper gentleman, even though it was completely unnecessary because I trust you implicitly."

"Good answer," she says, lifting up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "You need to go rest."

"For what it's worth, you saw the ring before I did," he says, lifting her hand to take a better look. "Family heirloom?" he asks Arthur.

"My mother's. And my grandmother's, come to think," Arthur answers. "And now, my Guinevere's."

Tom takes Guinevere's hand, which he is still holding, and places it in Arthur's. "I trust her, and I'm choosing to trust you," he says to his future son-in-law.

"I won't disappoint either one of you, sir," Arthur replies. "I meant everything I said to you earlier."

Tom nods, reaches for his cane, then turns towards the kitchen door. "Have a good dinner," he says.

Alone in the kitchen, Arthur pulls Guinevere into his arms, just holding her close. "My entire life has been lived according to my father's wishes. Now I'm my own man, living on my own terms, doing what I want to do, largely because of you, and it's… amazing," he says. "I don't think I can remember a time where I've been happier," he admits, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"You know what?" she asks, nuzzling his neck. "Me either. I mean… I've always been reasonably happy, for the most part. But now?" she leans back to look up at him. "When I met you at Morgana and Merlin's wedding, I never would have thought… would never let myself dare to hope…" She kisses him. "Yet here you are. Here we are. And I cannot stop smiling."

He leans down and kisses her smiling lips, happy and hopeful and looking forward to his future for the first time in his life.

-End-