#gelthur

The fabric was tight. That was all Gelda could think about, her cheeks flushing as she pulled at her dress. Everything felt so difficult. She tried again to smooth the silk over her stomach, watching her reflection in the full length mirror not improve with her efforts, the gown still wrinkled and awkward on her misshapen form. The enormity of the task flooded her with an uncomfortable heat. Whatever she did it just wouldn’t fit.

With a frustrated cry, Gelda reached round to undo the clasp at her neck and so pull the dress from her body. But she could not reach. Taking a deep breath to still the pounding of her heart, she shook her arms, stealing herself to try again. Blowing out sharply, she reached round once more, the delicate metal slipping from her grasp. It was so stupid. Tears fell, trailing through the carefully applied powder dusting her face and she dashed them away with an angry palm. She would have to swallow her pride and summon one of the servants and accept the humiliation of their discrete and careful hands.

“Hey!”

Gelda spun round to see Arthur standing in the doorway, his broad grin falling as he took in her appearance and she felt the full force of her disgust with herself. This was supposed to be a happy occasion; Arthur needed her to be on form, to be charming and effervescent, the perfect host she was reputed to be, and here she was crying over nothing at all. She drew herself up, but the panic still ebbed through her veins and she could feel the urge to break down in tears.

“Gelda what’s wrong?” he asked her sharply as he took quick strides towards her. “What’s the matter? Is the baby…”

“I’m fine.” Gelda forced herself to smile through her growing embarrassment. “The baby is fine.” Her hands moved automatically to her stomach, little kicks pressing against her palms. It was a comfort to know that her child was still moving and, despite the emotions swirling through her brain, she felt her chest ease, her lungs swinging more freely.

“If you say the word fine one more time I will get very cross.” Arthur approached, clasping her upper arms gently, moving his palms in comforting strokes to her shoulders and back down again. “Something’s upset you and you are going to tell me what it is.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, the painful lump in her throat seeming to swell. “It’s really nothing,” she said awkwardly, her voice rasping with the effort.

“Gelda, look at me.” Arthur took her chin between finger and thumb, raising her eyes to his. “Tell me, please,” he commanded.

[[MORE]]

“It’s…” Gelda flung up her arms, letting them fall with a smack to her sides. “Nothing fits, Arthur,” she said in a barely there whisper. “This gown is ruined. I look like some sort of court jester…”

Arthur cut her off with a laugh, then shook his head, rubbing his temple as he winced. “Sorry, that was damn insensitive of me. But, you see, I was just thinking how beautiful you look. How beautiful you always look. What you said just… jarred.” His face transformed with a tentative smile and Gelda’s breath stilled; the king was if anything more attractive now than he had been the first time she had seen him. Their time together, the understanding they shared, the responsibility he had taken as Camelot’s ruler had given him an air of natural authority, one which did his countenance no harm at all.

Then her mind returned to the problem at hand. Twisting round, she stared at her reflection, noting every line and crease in the silk that should fall around her like water. Her stomach felt pressed, not only by her child’s repeated movements which stretched her abdomen, but from the tight circle of fabric stretched over her bump. “It fit just last week,” she managed to say. “And now look at it. I’m a mess.”

“Gelda, you look pregnant. You are pregnant, and it’s good that your stomach is growing! No one’s going to mind…”

“I mind!” Arms snaked around her and Gelda let herself lean back into Arthur’s touch. “The Demon Queen is coming to Camelot to pledge her commitment to peace with your people. I am your representative. I’m supposed to be the one who sorts everything out, a credit to you and your kingdom, a worthy mother of Zeldris’s child and I look like this! And I can’t stop crying...”

Gelda closed her eyes, tears leaking from the corners as her chest heaved. Arthur held her close, planting a light kiss on her tightly braided hair. “I love you,” he murmured, “and it’s okay to cry. I won’t tell anyone.”

Gelda chuckled through her sobs. “That’s better. Now, stop looking at that damn thing,” Arthur said sternly as he looked at his own reflection, images of their bodies together in the glass.

Gelda nodded, taking the handkerchief Arthur offered and wiping her eyes. “Let me just freshen up,” she muttered, taking a few faltering steps to the dressing table, sinking into the chair to reapply powder and rouge. It did not take long to hide the signs of her agitation and Gelda started to relax a little as she brushed makeup over her skin. It was an art she usually left to her maids, but one she had learned for herself whilst in Edinburgh.

“You know, I never understood all the fuss about appearance,” Arthur mused as he watched, an eyebrow raised.

“Because you’re a man.” Gelda met the king’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “All you have to do is sound like you know what you’re talking about and people will listen. Women have to be perfect in every way if they want to be heard. And besides…” Gelda stopped, her face blushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the rouge she had just applied.

“Besides what?” asked the king, his head cocked to one side. “No, come on tell me,” he said more firmly as Gelda shook her head. “I really want to understand.”

Gelda bit her lip, taking a deep breath to say, “I need to be as good as I can, for him.” Arthur’s brow furrowed and Gelda rushed on, “He’s always perfect. He works so hard…”

“Gelda.” Arthur pulled her close and she felt his breath ghost over the shell of her ear. “You cannot, cannot be talking about Zeldris. Really!” he said with a bit of a chuckle as the princess stared at the surface of her dressing table, focusing on the shined polish of the oak. “For goodness sake Gelda, I know he’s great and all that but he’s a long way from perfect. He’s got his flaws like the rest of us. I mean,” Arthur held up fingers on his right hand one by one as he started to list, “he’s really impatient, he makes decisions too quickly, he doesn’t take criticism well at all, he bears grudges, he can be vicious when he’s angry…”

“They’re not flaws to me.” Gelda stood, turning to look Arthur directly in the face. “Yes, he has a temper and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Why should he?”

Arthur shook his head. “Gelda, it’s not only fools he doesn’t suffer gladly. You know the first time I realised he wasn’t perfect? Aside from when he attacked all my people and usurped my kingdom, that is. It was when I saw him snap at you.” Gelda’s mouth popped open as Arthur continued, “I know he doesn’t mean it, and he apologises when he’s calmed down, but he does hurt you sometimes, right? He hurts me too. I love him anyway, and I know he loves me but it still stings. He is not perfect, and no neither are you and nor am I, and none of us are ever going to be.”

Gelda swallowed, her hands twisting together. “In any case,” the king said diffidently, “having a bit of a stomach isn’t a flaw whether you’re pregnant or not. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and that’ll never change. So would you relax and come with me? Derieri will be here soon, and if she looks at me with those eyes of hers I might melt into a puddle. I need you there to scoop me off the floor.”

Hello all! Yesterday several of us decided to have some fun and designate the day as Smuturday, spending the day creating art and fic for the adult NnT fans. For my part, I offered the group some prompts, and wrote eight short fics (800-1500 words each) that cuts out all that silly plot nonsense and gets right to the good stuff!

Here is a full list of the oneshots I created. Please note they all have explicit sexual content and only intended for mature readers. Thanks so much to all of my lovely writer and artist friends who participated. We had an absolute scream of a time and I can’t wait for the next event!

"Does your ass hurt?" Gelda pants. "No, I'm fine," Arthur murmurs back, slowly and consciously relaxing his tensed muscles. Gelda's hands rub on his thighs and then move up over his backside, massaging him hard. "You can keep going." Her hands grip his waist, and Arthur braces himself on the bed. She stands behind him as he is bent over the side, and the feel of her small, delicate hands on his hips, clutching him so tightly, contrasts with the thick rod that was slowly penetrating him. The difference reinforces that this is Gelda behind him, playing out of one her biggest fantasies. The head of the strap-on dick is now fully inside, and Arthur tilts his hips back to let her rock into him. "Just tell me... tell me if this is too much..." Her voice is tight and shaking, and Arthur grins into his arm, wishing he could see her face. She sounds as if she is about to come herself, the tone vibrating with desire. "Do it, Gelda. Fuck me," he breathes.

"Oh god..." she moans, pushing in further. "Arthur, this is so hot... I'm inside you now..." Her nails dig into his hips as she presses forward sharply. Arthur grunts and forces himself to relax again. "You look so good," Gelda groans. Arthur begins moving his hips, fucking the thick length to show her the pace he likes. He can hear her heavy breathing behind him, and as drops of sweat roll down his forehead, he pictures her again: her skin flushed, her breasts heaving, her hips moving as she takes him the way she admitted she had been imagining for ages. Gelda begins to move with him, the pace slow and steady, but not deep yet.

Yet she is certainly enjoying this. Her hand moves to his back, scratching her nails down his spine. "You're mine," she hisses. "Mine." Arthur murmurs his agreement. He is usually the one in charge of things, but hearing the catch in her voice as she starts to take control has him shaking. Gelda starts moving again, the thrusts coming harder now, and with each one she begins to sink deeper and deeper until finally she is hitting the spot inside him that will send his release roaring to its finish. "Right there!" he cries, his head and hips lifting. "Oh, right there." Gelda's hand plunges into his hair and yanks his head backwards. "You like my cock inside you, don't you?" she demands.

"Yes," he moans, closing his eyes. His own cock is weeping, and he tries to start rutting against the bed, craving some kind of friction, before he leans his weight on one forearm so he can take his erection in his fist. Quickly he starts stroking as she continues to fuck him, their panting moans mixing as he starts to get closer to the end. "Gelda!" he gasps, and suddenly she pulls out. He is shaking on the bed, a gasp escaping his lips, when she pushes on his arm and rolls him onto his back. Then she climbs between his legs, lifting one of his muscled thighs as she slides the cock back inside of him. "I want to see you when you come," she says.

“I want you to stay,” Arthur whispered as he paced forwards until he and Zeldris were practically touching. “We don’t have to… you know,” he added reluctantly as his gaze strayed to Zeldris’s lips. “I know that whatever we had has to stop, but you don’t have to go.”

“I really do,” Zeldris said quietly, though Arthur thought he could detect a twinge of regret. “Your people will never accept me…”

“They will if I tell them to!” Arthur shot back, his eyes hardening as he spoke and his heart thumping angrily in his chest. “I am their king and they will do what I say! If I appoint you as my advisor they will just have to put up with it.”

“We both know it doesn’t work like that,” Zeldris chuckled, his smile failing as he looked into Arthur’s face, and he reached up a hand to tentatively sweep away the the long fringe. Without thinking, Arthur leaned into his caress, feeling the ache of the impending loss as he pressed his lips against the warm palm. Zeldris ran his thumb over Arthur’s cheek, sighing softly before he continued, “Look, what we had was… amazing. And I care about you. I always will. But Gelda will never accept this. All good things have to come to an end.”

“Maybe I don’t want this to end,” Arthur said crossly as he took hold of the hand that was now cupping his face, “and why are you so keen to go anyway? What are you going to do with yourself in Edinburgh exactly? I know you, remember? You’ll be miserable. You like administration.”

“He’s not wrong,” a clear voice sounded from the door to the throne room, echoing harshly across the huge chamber. “I did try to tell you Edinburgh was not the best plan.”

“Gelda! How long have you been there?” Zeldris asked sharply, his voice sounding panicked and Arthur quickly dropped his hand to his side as the demon backed away from him. “I thought…”

“Quite a while,” Gelda said smoothly as she walked gracefully towards them, the gold and crimson silk of her gown flowing around her. Arthur was immediately struck by her beauty and poise as he took in the twist of blonde hair hanging in a neat braid over her shoulder, the deep blue of her eyes and her flawless porcelain skin. No wonder the demon preferred this woman to him. “But don’t worry,” she murmured as she came up beside them, tenderly taking Zeldris’s hand in hers. “There is a solution.”

Here are some Zeldris x Arthur x Gelda headcanons to mark the occasion. Some of these are nsfw (well, it’s them innit) and I know this ship isn’t for everyone but I honestly can’t get the read more link to work. I have tried to add one but if it doesn’t work please just don’t read it. With thanks to @mxliodas and @maybeishouldwait for the ideas of what to cover.