For the best wife

Arthur understood the point of going hunting with the nobles. He really did, and it had nothing to do with actually putting food on the table. It was all about showing off who had the best outfit, trying to discuss some politics and strike deals whilst pretending that was not at all what you were doing, and checking out who was currently on the market for a spouse.

Yes, he got it. Didn't make it any less boring. Didn't make it seem less offensive to a man who had grown up in poverty and fought for every scrap of anything he could call his own.

And then there was the matter of his lady wife, who he saw much less of than expected but who was supremely distracting whenever she did come near. It felt ridiculous that he didn't know her better, and equal parts annoying and amusing that she seemed pretty intent on keeping things on a very "polite acquaintances" level.

Did it make him a prick that he sort of enjoyed the challenge in that? Oh, for sure. The trick was making her see that he wasn't just a prick.

They'd get there, eventually.

His eyes rested on the distant figure of his queen for most of the day as various voices droned on in his ears and he completely ignored the fact that he was supposed to be pretending to be looking for a boar or something.

Then, it started raining, and he gave up on pretending that he wanted to be there at all.

He dismounted from his horse and threw the reins at the nearest person. Might have been a squire, might have been an important noble. He didn't know.

"Be a pal and hold that for me."

It didn't take terribly long for him to reach Guinevere's mount and get on up behind her, wrapping his arms around her to claim the reins.

"Hello, darling."