Shatter into the Hope of Tomorrow

Summary: Arthur sends Guinevere away after what he sees as the deepest treachery against his heart. When the true treachery begins, and his beloved Camelot is lit ablaze by those he had trusted most, he is lost in every sense. Forced away from home, fate forces his hand, and his heart to face its greatest fear, being shattered by love.

Rating: T for mature situations: mostly just sensual / Also angst and violence, not terribly explicit

Warnings/Spoilers: There are spoilers all the way through season 4. The story is angsty/violent at times. A/G is endgame, but the route is not easy.

Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Gwaine, Merlin, Percival, Leon, Morgana, Agravaine

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Merlin belongs to BBC/Shine. Some characters in this story are my made up creation. The beginning line in double italics is from the show/credited to them.

Author Notes: I started writing this after 4.09. It extends 4.09, and 4.11, 4.12/4.13. It has a lot of AU elements within. I enjoyed the season finale and 4.09. What I didn't like about 4.12 was making Arthur look silly during the 'simpleton' storyline. I thought this would have been better for any other ep. Also, as much as I enjoyed 4.09 because it focused a lot on A/G I would have liked a similar episode, focusing on them, to bring them back together. This story kind of does that, altering some of the battle against Morgana/Aggravating/Helios etc. This story is fully written/ ending parts need some tight edits. It's a little over 30,000 words so I'll be posting in parts. Updates should be quick.

Thank you: Thank you so much to everyone at who has responded so kindly to my stories. Happy New Year AG friends.

TTT

One: He who must Decide

"I truly am sorry…"

For casting her away?

For grabbing her too hard?

For loving her in the first place so now your heart bleeds?

The king of Camelot had no answers.

When it was over he departed the throne room first, leaving her standing there alone, crying, tears so thick on her face as if a river had flooded her skin. Shutting the door, he heard her sobs, a haunted echo of one of the worst days he'd ever lived. And yet they were supposed to be hours away from the happiest pair in Camelot.

How quickly things could change.

It hadn't faded away with those clandestine kisses that liked to regularly assault his vision. The love was still there. His heart in fact felt like it was suffocating of love, the return of it gone, now replaced by betrayal and her broken pleads. He could still hear her voice weakly tremble on that she loved him, wanted to be his wife.

That would never happen.

She was the woman he had truly wanted, so unlike any other. She was far from idle, always working so hard around the castle, never afraid to dirty her hands or help another needing soul. And yet she gave no quarter to foolish pride or any kind of rudeness. While other women might wipe the tops of his shoes at demand if he ridiculously commanded it, she'd calmly state for him to do it himself.

That was why he couldn't be the hand that resulted in her death. Watching her die would slay his vital sense of life. And yet because of what happened with her and Lancelot he also could not stand the thought of looking upon her face anymore. Of passing by her every day knowing what she did, what had happened, and what others would say because they would talk.

He may be king, but that wouldn't stop the gossip, the disgusted looks that would be directed her way, and the cruelties. He was respected as king. She'd be seen as a pariah. It was more than just his heart collapsing every time it would see her. It was truly about her welfare and justly the wellbeing of the kingdom. Maybe keeping her in Camelot would save her from death, but it wouldn't save her from the scavengers wanting to tear her apart. It wouldn't allow his heart to heal. Lastly, most practically, a queen not respected by the people would do no good for Camelot.

So he made the decision. Banish the woman he had intended to marry, who he felt for so fervently. A choice half merciful, half indulgent. His father would have disapproved. It made him shudder actually to think what his father would have done to her, how he would have dealt with her for shaming the throne and his son. There were times often Arthur wished for his father to be back giving him council, but at this moment, he was thankful that he wasn't there anymore to cast judgment.

Watching the woman he still loved being committed to death, going up in flames in front of his eyes…

Would send his soul to hell.

Thank heaven he was the one now to make the decision.

"Arthur…"

It was the voice of his servant, a friend who he put his trust in. Let that trust never be broken. It might shatter him. "Not now Merlin…" He replied with toiled breaths that found it too hard to inhale, exhale. "Not now."

The servant said nothing more. Arthur passed by him, going to his chambers, closing the doors to all life outside. Not bothering to remove his boots, not caring to change his wear, he lay down on his bed, looking up to the ceiling. He recalled how just days ago he entered the room she was tending to. Sneaking up behind he had proceeded to blindfold her. Then he took her to her house, candles just about everywhere glowing inside for the occasion.

Haunted memories.

He pushed this one away, shaking with anger and pain. He wished he could just go to sleep, but worried it would be riddled with nightmares of that kiss and then the next and the…

His mind wanted to deny rest, but his eyes had enough. They fluttered and closed, taking him back to the throne room when he ended their commitment. When he entered she was down on her knees and even after he ushered everyone out she remained there, like some stranger, not the woman he loved. Oh how angry that made him, watching her turn into some subservient sad woman, only a shadow of her true self. He wanted her standing, facing him, so he could finally get some sense of why she would happily tell him she wanted to be his wife one day and then only a few later be in the arms of a man from her past. It had made him so angry that none of the answers were enough. He couldn't take it. He grasped her arms tightly enough to…

As dreams tend to do whatever they very well please, this one of today swirled into one of less than a year previous. It was much kinder though, which made it even more acidic, because that time of when they were truly happy was just a shard of remembrance now.

Then, their affections were still sweet; love was not riddled with vicious thorns. It was an evening of celebration, honoring the anniversary between the peace treaty of Camelot and a neighboring kingdom. It meant that there were many guests staying in the castle that evening, but one was not being respectful to its host. Such person did not realize that in Camelot, the crown prince, who during his father's illness had taken over the role of head ruler, felt that servants should be treated with dignity, especially this particular one…

As usual she was serving the guests with a pleasant smile and a strong regard for her position, her work ethic more than admirable. Arthur plead no difference with that but as the night grew later and the guests were filled with drink and lazily smiling away the hours, some perhaps completely sloshed, he searched, finding her in the hallway.

Sneaking behind as she was departing the kitchen with nothing in tow, so probably taking her leave, he placed his hands over her eyes, getting her to elicit a small gasp.

Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, "The Prince of Camelot requires your service…Guinevere."

She answered him coyly, playing along. "And what service exactly does he require may I ask?"

He answered with a low growl, bringing something past his shoulders. "No you may not. I have a blindfold to cover your eyes so you cannot peek. Then you will come with me." Although the timbre of his voice was rich with royal protocol, it was mildly edged too with playfulness.

Feeling hands upon her face and something being tied around it to cover her eyes, Gwen answered, "But I will not know where I am going Sire."

Blindfold securely in place, one of his eyebrows went up at her astute comment. "How did you know it was me?"

"How could I not?" She had to stifle her laughter at how sneaky he was being about all this. Silly jester of a prince.

He shrugged at that, which of course she could not see, and grasped her hand in his, leading her away. "Don't worry. I will have your hand all the time, won't let you fall."

Her lips, because her eyes were covered, smiled with peace. "I'm not worried at all."

"Good." He answered, leading her down one hallway after another and then through a door that led to…

"Are we outside?" She asked as she felt the slighter chill of air. Something came over her shoulders, sheltering her from any coolness.

He had wrapped his ceremonial red Pendragon cloak around and was seeing to its secureness quickly before answering, "Yes. Not much longer now."

A climb, she could feel steps underneath her feet and as they ascended further the music from the festivities came through loud and clear.

He continued to carefully lead her up the stone stairs. Then when they reached his planned destination, he untied the blindfold so she could see.

Gwen gasped with wonder. They were standing upon the middle tower of the castle, one she'd actually never noticed before from the ground. And up above, oh the sight of the stars was a tantalizing one mixed in with the music of the band of minstrels within the dining hall. "It is so lovely up here." She told him, gazing up at the indigo blue sky and bright shining stars.

"Yes." He answered, clasping both her shoulders to give her a kiss, smiling happily as he coaxed her to turn.

She gracefully spun around him, feeling him start up a bit of dance to the music coming from below. They circled around each other in medieval fashion, enjoying getting to be part of the festivities in their private spot. Since her status was as a servant, it was the only way they could share such moments together, away from the crowd of people.

He spun her around some more, leaning in for another kiss and this time his hands slipped from her shoulders to her upper arms. They gripped and she cried out.

Breaking out of his daze of splendor Arthur let go of her immediately, backing so they were no longer touching. Worry shooting through him quickly, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

Gwen shook her head, but rubbed her arm.

Frowning, he lifted away the cape and pulled up the sleeve of her blue dress, seeing something that made him grimace tighter. "Is that a bruise?"

"Barely." She tried to laugh it off. "Doesn't hurt a bit."

"You're lying." He told her. "You never would have cried out if it didn't."

Gwen bit at her bottom lip, touching his shoulder. "It's fine Arthur."

"No, it's not! Did I do that?" He pointed with revulsion coursing through his mind at his own foolish actions.

But she shook her head immediately. "Of course not. It wasn't you. It was-

She stopped there.

Arthur grasped her hand gently within his, but his voice was firm. "Guinevere, tell me who did this to you. "How did your arm get this way?"

She shrugged. "One of the knights from the visiting kingdom. Oh really, he was just being a little…boisterous and I backed away and he held on and…well…that was it. He let me go."

"Who?"

"Arthur, it's not important."

"WHO?"

She bit her bottom lip nervously, not for seeing the knight again, who was less scary to her than aggravating, plainly lacking any sense of chivalry. Her concern was that Arthur wanted to confront him, possibly with disastrous result. She didn't want to be the cause of someone seriously hurt, especially Arthur. "Sir Samson."

Arthur simply nodded his head, turning to race down the steps.

"Arthur!" Gwen chased him, calling out his name, trying to catch up before he did something regrettable. "Please-

"Guinevere, stay up there. I'll only be a moment."

"Arthur, don't-

Now he stopped. Feeling her rush to him he grasped her waist, smiling slightly to calm her down. "It's fine. I'll do nothing awful, alright? But Samson is going to learn you do not come to this kingdom manhandling ladies, especially the one I love. Now, just wait for me. I won't be that long."

And he wouldn't. Down below Samson was heading through the closed-for-the-night market area. Arthur rapidly flew down the steps, calling out the man's name. "Sir Samson, I'd like a moment with you!"

The man of dark wavy hair and broad chest and shoulders, bigger really than Arthur, turned around. "Oh yes Prince Arthur, what is it? Grand party!"

Arthur shrugged with a tight smile, not caring to waste time. He promised to her that he would keep it civil though. Well mostly civil.

Silently Gwen watched from above, ready to call out interference if needed.

"Yes, indeed grand." Arthur stated shortly before he came to the matter promptly. He wanted to get back to spending time with her. "Now, I have an issue. A servant girl, the name is not important at the moment, but the matter is. She complained of being handled by you, mishandled I would say. And as evidence she now has a noticeable bruise upon her arm."

Samson rolled his eyes. "Oh that, yes I may have gotten a little over zealous. Don't know my own strength. She's definitely a fine looking one. Wanted only to play some. Not like she's a noble lady, right Arthur, so where's the harm?"

Wrong answer.

It didn't matter that Samson was bigger than the prince. All that mattered was that Arthur had years of battle training at the harsh hand of his father, and at the moment was quite furious. Samson soon was one with the wall. He let out a cry of protest as it slammed into his back, Arthur's hands tightly holding at his shoulder and neck. "In Camelot, no lady is ever treated so rudely. Is that understood Samson? Servant or not. I would have you apologize to the woman, but she prefers her name not be used and that she not have to see you again. And I would have you thrown out, but the festivities have been going so well for our respective kingdoms, don't you think?"

Samson had to breathe hard to get it out. Arthur's hold was a pure deadlock. "Uh, yes."

"Good. But let me just make one thing clear. If you ever speak of a lady like that again in Camelot or treat a lady with rough hands, you will be locked in chains and spend a very cold, very uncomfortable night in the dungeons before you will be banished from ever returning here again in the morning. So we are clear…

YES?"

"Very clear Prince Arthur." Samson relented. He had no choice. Arthur was the son of Uther Pendragon, and although the son could be much softer than the elder, he could also strike fear within seconds. Any actions he promised to carry out, he'd do without a blink.

"Good. Now leave my sight." Arthur ended with a smile as if they were old friends. "And enjoy your last night of festivities. You'll be returning home tomorrow." That was true for all the guests, but Arthur put a certain punctuation to 'tomorrow' for effect, directed straight at this guest.

As Samson moved away now rapidly, not wanting to raise the prince's ire again, Arthur ascended the steps to his quite literal lady in waiting.

She turned to him with wonder. "I heard all you said. You didn't have to do that."

Arthur locked his hands around her waist, avoiding the bruised arm to not cause her further discomfort. "I did entirely. And so don't worry. Nothing like that will ever happen again."

Gwen smiled. "You truly are my prince." She kissed his cheek and temple. "A knight in shining armor complete."

Arthur smiled now too, ceasing her small kisses gently with a much grander one of his own…

Slowly, painfully, Arthur awoke from the dream, the remembrance of just barely a year ago. Then, his father was weak, but still alive. Then, they spent a night enjoying the stars and music until the hour grew too late. Then…

He looked down at his hand, offending. When he had grabbed her in the throne room, her fear shone with completely understandable reason. He grabbed her hard. And so he let go quickly, realizing he could be causing her pain. And then, she rubbed her arm for just a bit. Not much, but if he hurt her, like it had happened that night. If…

Letting out a tortured sigh, Arthur moved away from the bed. There was something he needed to do before she left in the morning.

TTT

It came, a reminder of the past, of a woman of such integrity and who worked to the bone. She was small, sleight, but when she spoke it could make people turn. When she cared for the sick, it was with such tender hands. Her hold on life was much too short, taken with an illness that lasted brutally long, even within the birth of a second child.

That day she came to ask him of her condition, her first had been born only a few months ago and the odd symptoms of her illness had just begun to occur. He had given her an ailment mixed with his love of science and his expertise in magic, but so far it hadn't seemed to take effect.

"Have you been able to find anything Gaius?"

The middle aged physician regarded the uniquely lovely lady as she asked him the question. She was handmaiden to Sir Leonard and his family and she was married to a blacksmith of amazing talent. It had been just three months ago they brought their daughter into the world. She was in a bassinet on his work table, interestingly next to another infant who had also been born quite recently, just a little before her. For now the two babes were quietly awake.

The young woman pushed back some of her unruly long curls, wishing they'd just stay put in all the pins and flowers she regularly wore in her hair. Her beloved never complained about it though. He thought it was wonderful that it was so untamed. Like a man to say such thing.

"I wish I had better news. But we'll just try another ailment. I'm sure with a bit of research I can find the right one to put all back to wellness again."

She leaned against the counter, feeling a bit tired, but nothing more as a shrill cry came from one of the bassinets. The young woman tightly grimaced with a touch of concern and a fraction maybe of irritation. "Oh I wonder how Ingrid does it because this one is indeed a handful." She moved to the bassinets, stopping off at the one with the crying infant. Picking him up, she cooed with gentle reprimand. "Now there, there. Stop your fussing. Quite a demanding little prince." She brought the baby against her shoulder, rocking him rhythmically to put him in a calmer state, humming a song of old.

Gaius smiled at her caring, but firm way. It was probably why she'd been working in Sir Leonard's family for so many years. Although she was very respectful, she too had plenty of gumption. "You seem to be doing quite well my dear."

The young woman shook her head. "I don't know Gaius. I'll be happy when Ingrid's back from visiting her mother. My daughter is enough for me take care of, plus I'm not so sure how the king feels about me taking over the job, even with it a temporary situation."

She spoke carefully in low tones, as conversations about the king were often held these days, within inches of fear of the wrong words being overheard.

"Well my dear I think he's more occupied with the continued enacting out of the new laws."

The young woman gave a sad nod. "Yesterday three were drowned."

"Yes." Gaius stated carefully. Although the recent events had been devastating and there were those who thought the king was losing his grip on reality, Gaius had pledged his allegiance to the man. Many of his friends were angry with him for taking the king's side, but there were elements of magic that had previously been used that were not as innocent as they seemed.

Still, the drownings were plainly awful. While adult magicians were put to death by fire for magical use, the children were plunged into the water until they no longer breathed. It was terrible to witness and so Gaius had joined some of the others who secretly helped a few or more escape.

He looked to the woman holding the baby boy who cried a little less loudly, but still had a few sobs sputtering out of his pouting lips.

She motioned, "Poor thing. Must miss his mother."

Gaius nodded sadly. In actuality the young prince's mother had died before he could probably lay eyes on her for the first time. It was the reason for the king's grief and the start of the purge. Whether that reason was selfishly being used with indulgence or just out of pure pain, didn't seem to matter to anyone. The guards standing outside the door spoke of the outcome. Many of those forced to flee or killed vowed to exact their revenge upon the king's newly born son.

They just weren't aware that the king rarely went near the boy, and had yet to hold him, let alone fatherly touch the lonely babe.

The young woman noticed now that her daughter needed some tending to. She carefully laid the prince down upon one of his blankets on a healing cot. Picking her daughter up, she laid the tiny baby beside. Soon enough the most extraordinary thing happened. The prince's sobs cut off. He wasn't paying her much attention, but seemed possibly comforted by the baby girl's closeness. That pout was still mildly there, but he seemed at peace now.

Gaius marveled. "Well, look at that."

The young woman did too. "Indeed. Perhaps my Guinevere has the needed ailment. I'll have to keep them close to each other more often." She commented as she fixed her daughter's blankets before standing back with Gaius to watch the surprising predicament. "Tom insists on calling her Gwen, but I say to him, no, Guinevere is a special name. You will see Gaius. And so will little Prince Arthur here. Guinevere will be a name long remembered."

"Gaius."

The physician broke out of his reverie. That day had been so many years ago when he wasn't as white haired as he was now. About two years receding that day the peculiar disease took full effect. She left the world asking him gently to look after her dear loved ones and to not fret that he never found the remedy. Life treated her preciously for as long she could be there. She had no regrets.

Gaius looked up now, seeing there the pouting prince, only now he was a grown up man and his pout for the moment had turned into a solid line of tightness.

"Sire. I am sorry. Merlin is not here right now. He went to talk to the arrangers of the wed-

Arthur negated the answer dully. "That's alright. I didn't come here to talk to Merlin anyway. I came to speak to you."

Gaius nodded his head. "Yes, well how can I help you Sire?"

Arthur walked further into the room, looking around, restless. "Guinevere is banished from Camelot. She will leave in the morning and never return."

He fought hard to not choke on the words.

Gaius was quiet, unable to fully gauge Arthur's temper yet. His mood was most definitely down, but beyond that, the king gave nothing.

"You have something to say to it?" Arthur asked, scrutinizing the elder man.

Gaius shook his head sadly. "Sire, you are our king and you have made your decision. I respect it."

Arthur nodded, walking through the physician's quarters, smelling the heaviness of ailments and damp rags. Lowering his eyes to the wide assortment of vials, different shapes, different colors, he breathed out, "I did something I am ashamed of."

"Sending her away?" Gaius asked carefully. There were protocols that had to be followed when responding to the ruler of a kingdom. Arthur deserved to be given that kind of respect. It was the accepted way.

"No." Arthur whispered. "That has to be done. And it will be done tomorrow. You know my father would have had her ex-

Gaius watched with barely contained emotion as Arthur shivered on the word. It was hard to not bring his hand over the young man's shoulder as comfort. He of course was king now, but Gaius had also seen the man born. He proceeded over the tragic birth. The physician watched him grow from boy to man.

He was the one who comforted then young Arthur, years ago, when his father was away, and the boy cut his wrist on his sword. Gaius could recall the boy trying to hide the pain with a tight grimace until he gently coaxed him to let go. Voice his ache.

And yet this kind of ache, Gaius knew the young man would hold tight to, try to deal with it alone.

That made Gaius feel sad. As he had told Merlin years ago, being prince and now king, was not without price.

"You have shown Gwen compassion."

"Have I?" Arthur whispered so quietly Gaius didn't hear. Arthur didn't know. All he understood for certain was that she had to go. "I'm taking up too much time with this, your time and time I could use to be dealing with other important matters. I should just get on with it. I was angry when I talked to her. I lost control for a moment and I grabbed her hard."

Gaius frowned slightly, an eyebrow going up, but he kept quiet.

"I let her go quickly, but she might—well if I hurt her at all, I don't want her to leave here—

Arthur's head lowered, almost shamefully. That aching bubble at the back of his throat that had been there when they were talking to each other in the throne room was returning. It was making it hard to swallow, to stand.

Gaius carefully approached the king. "Would you like me to see to her Sire, before she leaves? I am sure she is not hurt at all, but I could check if you'd like."

Arthur lifted his head. Gaius looked at the young man with compassion. He was losing control of his emotions, but fighting it as hard as he could. "Yes. Please."

"I will go to her tonight Sire."

Arthur nodded, spotting the walled ledge near the window that overlooked the citadel. Heavily he sat down on it, hands wringing restlessly through his hair. That dream reminded him of why she made him so happy and why this hurt so much. He was king though and kings, his father taught him, do not have the luxury to dwell in any kind of sadness. His personal problems were no concern of his kingdom.

This time Gaius gave into the hesitations, moving over to the ledge too and sitting just a bit close to his king. "Arthur…"

The man that lifted his head was so close to tearing apart. He was so close to a frightened little boy, missing something terribly, before it was even gone. Gently Gaius lifted his hand, placing it upon Arthur's shoulder. "I am sorry."

"I-I still love her. I will always-

"I know. She is a good woman Sire."

Arthur turned to the physician at those words, nodding his head. "You're right. She is. I just can't, I WON'T ever see her again."

"Perhaps…" Gaius wisely counseled. "Perhaps not."

Arthur faced the physician adamantly. "She's banished. We'll never see each other again."

"Alright Sire." Gaius simply said, the elder wise man who knew better than to broke argument with his king. It did not matter Arthur's age or time in such service. He was his honorable ruler who he pledged allegiance to. Gwen, whether she meant to cause such pain or not, was now the one who would pay the price for it. That was just how it was to be.

Arthur struggled, recalling something she said. Gaius was already going over there anyway.

"Gaius, your council means much to me. You were a loyal advisor to my father and you are just as loyal to me. I thank you for your allegiance to Camelot."

Arthur continued, the words dragging on sort of listlessly. Part of him just wanted to stop this, and run to her house giving his forgiveness. And yet the other part ached as a hurt man and as a king who needed to make the right choice for his kingdom.

"You know that if she stayed here, she'd be ostracized. She was to marry the king and now she committed…adultery."

Arthur didn't continue right away, unable to it seemed, so with his hand still gently upon the younger man's shoulder, Gaius gave his nod of understanding. "Yes Sire. It would be hard for her. That is true."

"But I'm sending her away to…I don't know where. And she may not be able to find…"

His voice drifted before he found a direction to go in next.

"You know this area well Gaius. You have lived here many years, all your life."

"Right, Sire."

"This is not a request. She'll have to face her own life and deal with her own troubles. I have enough of my own. But if you know…of places far away, destinations where maybe she would not be so known…

I would not disapprove of you sharing that with her. It is entirely your choice. I am not condoning or going against it. You pick what you think is right."

Gaius fought to not hold him like he had held Merlin in the past when the boy, becoming such a young man now, was facing pain. He couldn't do it with his king, and he knew well Arthur understood that. But his pain was now so vital and alive, tearing at every word he said, filling him with indecision and shivers of unhappiness. "I can do that Sire."

Arthur tightly closed his eyes, sitting there, still, feeling cold and empty. Something in his life was so solidly missing already. "My father would have handled this very differently."

The first tears fell.

"Arthur…" Gently Gaius whispered, touching his king's hands for a fast moment. "You must deal with this the way that is right for you. No one will question it. I have told you before there are many who are helping you who you do not know of. Many who care about your safety.

As for Gwen, I believe in her good heart that she shared with you. It has made you into the man you've become and the king you will be. In the future you will see that."

Tightly Arthur stated, "I want her to go. I need that. It is best. It is law."

He got up from his seat, separating himself from Gaius, turning away before he stated it because he was afraid it would reveal too much, that his tears would too freshly fall.

"But I cannot bear to see her go. I can't Gaius."

With that one last statement Arthur left the room not allowing any comfort to be passed his way.

Gaius shook his head sadly, realizing one important thing though that it was too soon still for the king to realize, his wounds of the heart too fresh.

Love did not just die. It lingered even when the mind tried to control it.

Arthur was sending her away, but in his heart, she was dug within.

The words of Alana came back to him. "Guinevere will be a name long remembered."

Maybe this wouldn't be the end.

Just a new beginning.

For now he knew one thing. The king gave his permission for him to help, and so he'd fulfill his promise made to her mother, his vow made to his king.

Once a crying babe, whose sobs faded away, when she lay next to him.

The future queen of Camelot?

Fates would tell.

TTT

Will be continued in Two: She who Hungers

Excerpt: Angrily, Gwen forgot her own discomfort, bringing the tunic into the water, giving it a good soak. And then bringing it against the washboard, she started to scrub rapidly. Punishingly, feeling tiny pricks of pain in her fingers that had been touched by the hot water, she ignored it all. So set upon her work, she didn't hear the door open, didn't know she wasn't alone until a voice came from behind.