AN: I don't want to give too much about this away, apart from the fact that it's loosely based on The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Attwood. Also, it will be quite dark. It will make a lot more sense as the story progresses. I'm hoping for fortnightly updates(as I need to finish my other story also), but the updates should be relative regular. Please feedback, and I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue.

She wanted to be fertile. She would have given anything to be fertile. But she wasn't, and she was never going to be. And it was as simple as that. Camelot was never going to have an heir, and it was all her fault. It killed her. Knowing she couldn't bear her husband children, it killed her. They'd tried everything. Not magic. Magic is wrong. Magic was the cause of all this. They'd tried everything else, but to no avail. Nothing seemed to work.

Caroline paced around her chambers, rubbing her hands softly on her head. She'd been thinking about it for a while now. A very long while now; but telling Arthur, letting him know what she was thinking, well it frightened her somewhat. It was an absurd idea. Of course it was. He'd never agree to it... but she had to try. She'd never be able to live with herself if she didn't try, if she didn't at least bring the idea up, see his reaction. She loved Arthur, and she knew him well, and although he'd tell her he was okay with not having an heir, it's obvious he was lying. He wanted a child more than anything. A son to train, a daughter to protect, just someone to love. It was eating him up inside. He couldn't tell Caroline that, make her feel any more guilty than she already did, he just couldn't. Caroline understood that, but it wasn't enough to stop her from wanting to please him, desperately needing to make him happy. Fulfilled. She had to tell him her idea. She just had to.

Guinevere was in need of a job. Any job would do. Anything would suffice; anything that provided enough for her to eat well, dress well, and of course, pay her taxes. She wasn't needy. Not really. Needy women give themselves up. Throw their bodies away, and Guinevere was definitely not one of them. At least that's what she'd tell herself. Deep inside, Guinevere knew she was special, she knew how valuable she was, how important she was, but she didn't let it define her. She didn't let the only thing worth anything about her become her. She knew being fertile was a gift, she knew being fertile was a rarity. She knew many nobles would pay good gold for her work, she'd be able to survive if she signed up to be a surrogate, she'd have more than enough money to keep herself going. but she couldn't. She wouldn't. Her father said being a surrogate is wrong. "Selling yourself like that. It's dirty." Guinevere didn't want to be dirty. She didn't want to be used and abused like all the surrogates were, and she certainly didn't want to be defined as a 'walking womb', a vessel solely made to hold life. No. She had to keep her fertility a secret. She just had to.

"Never." Arthur's voice came out as a soft whisper. Caroline's brown eyes began to fill up with tears. She was expecting this reaction. She'd have been an idiot to expect anything less.

"Arthur, please."

"Never, Caroline. Never bring this up again." Arthur left her chambers, a deep frown engraved on his face.

He wouldn't be like all the other men, he wouldn't take in a surrogate. How could he? How could he do that to Caroline? He wouldn't abandon his wife like all the other men did. He wouldn't drop her for a newer better, more fertile model. Of course he wouldn't... but he so desperately want a child, an heir, and he'd be lying if he didn't feel a hint of jealousy watching the noble men with their surrogate children. Happy. They were happy, and no matter how had he'd try to convince himself otherwise, he wasn't happy.

A knock on the door. Guinevere never usually has visitors, apart from Merlin, but he's gone to visit his mother in Ealdor, she missed Merlin. Guinevere walked slowly over to the door, rubbing her eyes softly, a yawn escaping her mouth.

"Can I help you?" She's faced with two guards of Camelot. Stern looking.

"You haven't paid your taxes. You're two weeks overdue." One of them replies, his voice cold.

"Oh."

"I'm afraid we're going to have to reclaim your house."

"But-"

"It isn't up for discussion. The King's orders. If you have any objections, take it up with him." The second interrupted before she could finish. She could feel her face burning up, her eyes filling with tears.

"This is the only place I can stay. I have nowhere to go."

"Sorry." It was rare for any of the guards to show sympathy, so his simple apology shocked Gwen somewhat. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hint of hope. "But there's nothing we can do."

All hope left Guinevere's eyes shortly after that.

"What you said, about getting a surrogate." Arthur pauses, taking a bite from his dinner. He and Caroline were having their daily dinner, and the silence felt harsher than usual.

"Yes?"

"We could try one." Arthur lets out, avoiding his wife's gaze.

"Really? You mean it?" A tear rolls down Caroline's cheek.

"Yes. For a few months or so, if she doesn't bear a child for us in that time, we won't try again. We'll just accept it as our fate." Arthur continues, his voice dry. Picking up his fork, he continues eating.

She'd signed up to be a surrogate. She'd let her fertility be known. It was time for her to be auctioned.

Her auction didn't last long. She'd had a special offer from a very rich noblewoman, an anonymous offer. Guinevere wouldn't find out who she would be working for until she was dropped off at their front door. She wanted someone nice. Someone who would be soft with her. Easy. Laid-back. She knew it was a hopeless dream, but at least she could still dream. She could still hope for the best.

"The surrogate's here." Caroline called into Arthur's chambers. He was pretending to be busy with paperwork, trying to not show any real interest at the arrival of his new surrogate. His new plaything, as the other nobles called them. He wouldn't let this be anything more than a chore, he would find nw pleasure in bedding her, impregnating her, and kicking her out once he was done with her. She was a machine.

"My name's Guinevere."

"Not anymore. As of now, you are Ofarthur." Caroline says softly. She shows Guinevere into her new chambers. It's nice. Homely, but Guinevere didn't want to get comfortable. She didn't want to make this her home.

"You will be staying here." Caroline gestures into the chambers, Guinevere smiles softly. It's a fake smile.

"It's lovely. Thank you." Caroline nods, making to leave. Remembering something, she stops in her tracks.

"Ofarthur?"

"Yes?"

"Have you been a surrogate before?"

Guinevere shakes her head.

"So you have no idea what it entails?"

"No, my Lady."

Guinevere shakes her head again.

"Are you sure you can handle this?"

Guinevere nods this time. She's lying.