Gawain was a king now. The king of Camelot, and with you by his side, his queen and wife, you would rule together. But it was a difficult marriage, one that brought hate and resentment into the bed you shared. Gawain was open to being kind on your wedding night, but you refused. You fought and turned away from him, claiming that you will never love him because he will forever be a stranger to you. Truth be told, it was a political marriage, one for both kingdom's benefit, his and yours. But you would have rather been dead than marry a man you didn't know, but you might as well be six feet under by now. But after some time, you found solace in the night, retreating to the library to read the hundreds of books on the shelves, the fire burning to keep you warm, and a story to keep you up and away from Gawain. Until one night, he comes down. You recognize his steps but never direct your eyes away from the words on the pages. It's not until you sense a tall shadow looming over you that you stop reading, but you never take your eyes off of the book. "Come back to bed, dearest." His low voice cuts through the silence.