Merlin: "Something Old, Something New" by such_heights
Title: Something Old, Something New
Author: such_heights
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing/characters: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a not-for-profit transformative work based on characters and situations not my own.
Length: 3800 words
Prompt: Any historical fandom, any characters, It's true that their marriage isn't a passionate one; one or both of them prefers the attentions of their own sex. That doesn't mean they're unhappily married.
Summary: Uther had married for love, and Arthur has always believed he should do the same.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to glass_icarus, woldy and avendya for their speedy and helpful betas! All remaining errors are my own. (Also, it is still April 30th in many respectable time zones. >.>)
***
Something Old, Something New
***
News travelled slowly between kingdoms - the nobility always knew first, the villagers much later, if at all. But stories were told at inns by travellers who sat by the fire with a mug of ale for their troubles.
There was a war, the stories said, a terrible war born of vengeance and magic, the old religion rising up to claim their place and avenge their dead. Uther Pendragon met his death at the hands of a warrior queen, a prophet and a witch, an angel of death. No one knew her name, but it was said she had once been beloved of the king, a serpent lying at the heart of Camelot.
But Prince Arthur survived. Camelot was recovering, rebuilding, striking new alliances and learning new lessons. There was a whisper in the air, a word breathed with reverence by each traveller as they finished their story. Albion.
***
"Sire, there is one more matter I would bring to your attention."
Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, biting back the impulse to reply in sarcastic surprise. He passed a hand over his face, exhausted. It had been weeks since he took the throne, and still nothing was easy, and there seemed to be no rest awaiting him any time soon.
"Yes," he said eventually. "What is it, Matthew?"
"It's the matter of your queen. Or rather, your lack of one."
"Do we really have to --" Arthur started, before he realised that every adviser and attendant in the room had turned their attention to him with renewed focus.
"I --" Matthew hesitated before plunging on. "I've taken the liberty of drawing up a list of suitable candidates. There are many unions that could serve us very well, and this could be a real asset at the present time."
"My father married for love," said Arthur shortly. "My people will expect me to do the same."
"Many of these women are very beautiful -- young, accomplished, well-mannered. If you met them, sire, I believe you would be able to find a suitable match."
Arthur picked up the list and didn't look at it. "That will be all for today. I thank you all for your time and your thoughts."
He left the hall abruptly.
***
Merlin was poring over books when Arthur found him. Merlin had taken over Gaius's old rooms, turning his medicinal benches into magical experiment tables, and there would always be something strange and fascinating (and usually dangerous) going on.
Today, a row of candles were burning with every colour imaginable, shifting from red to blue and cycling through bright shades of yellow. Merlin seemed to be conducting them with absent-minded wafts of his fingers, bringing the flames ever-higher.
"Do you intend to set the entire castle on fire, or just this wing?" Arthur asked.
"Arthur!" Merlin leapt up, red-faced, and the candlelight vanished.
"You've really got to stop that guilty jump every time I see you doing magic, you know. We're a little past that stage."
"I -- yes, I know. Sorry. How are you? You look awful. I keep telling you, you need to stop, just for a day, get some rest."
Arthur shook his head. "I can't, you know that."
Merlin sighed. "Fine, fine. I'm sure you don't need me haranguing you as well -- what did the court have to say for themselves today?"
Arthur held up the list he was still clutching. "I need to get myself married, apparently."
He waited for Merlin's protest, but it didn't come. Merlin just snatched the paper out of his hands and started reading, punctuated with his own commentary.
"You know, Lady Cecilia is meant to be very beautiful, and Morgana always spoke well of --" Merlin stopped suddenly.
"You can say Morgana's name, you know," said Arthur.
"I know. It's just, I don't want to -- what she did . . ."
"In her place, I might have well have done the same."
It was something Arthur would never be able to admit in public, but he knew it to be the truth. His father had made bad decisions and powerful enemies, and none more deadly than Morgana. There was every chance that Arthur would never see her again, that she would never bring herself to return to Camelot, but he understood her, and missed her desperately. Merlin was no warrior, not at heart, and Arthur wasn't sure if he would ever truly understand what it was to fight not to defend others, but for your own justice.
"Well," Merlin said carefully, after a while. "I think that Morgana would say Cecilia is your best option. If you decide you like her, that is."
"You really don’t get it, do you?" Arthur asked, exasperated. "I don't want a marriage. I mean -- I know I have to, eventually, but --"
"But what?" Merlin asked, his voice suddenly soft.
"My father spoke so highly of my mother, you know. Always. How much he loved her. That was what I understand -- what I want -- a marriage to be."
"You could love one of these women," said Merlin. "If you gave yourself a little time, if you tried."
"No, I don't think so. I've tried, before, but even before I met you, I couldn't." Arthur broke off, unwilling to plunge into stories of messy entanglements that had always ended badly.
Merlin frowned. "I knew what might be expected of me, depending on how long I stayed your servant, and as it turns out it was -- well, it was brilliant, and every day I counted myself lucky because I knew it was going to end. I thought you'd get rid of me once you found out about my magic. When you didn't, I figured that this would be it. Camelot needs a queen, Arthur. And that's all right, I'll gladly step aside. I know you'll find some wondrous noblewoman to love, if that's what you want."
"For crying out loud, Merlin. Has this somehow bypassed you completely? I love you."
Merlin looked utterly stricken. He took a shaky breath. "Arthur, no, you have to --"
"I don't have to do anything," Arthur said, and he hauled Merlin close and kissed him fiercely.
"Mmf," said Merlin, which was something of an improvement.
Arthur dragged him away from his books and his work, better to push his overshirt open and plant long kisses at the base of Merlin's throat.
"Arthur," Merlin said hoarsely, his words humming against Arthur's mouth. "We'll do something, we'll find someone, I had no idea that you --"
"Shut up," Arthur murmured, and dropped to his knees.
"I -- oh god -- yes, okay, yes, just don't --"
"I'm not going anywhere," Arthur murmured, staring up at Merlin intently before grabbing him at the hips. He'd prove his words any way he knew how.
***
Merlin woke with the sun the next morning. Arthur was still sleeping heavily next to him, his arm flung over Merlin's chest.
He slid out from Arthur's hold as quietly as he could and opened the window, looking out over the courtyard and wondering what on earth they were going to do next. Arthur seemed entirely unreasonable on the point of a marriage, but it didn't change the fact that he needed a queen.
Merlin thought about it, and thought some more, and felt like banging his head against a wall. He could see no way out, no way to change Arthur's mind. He wondered, with a twinge of guilt, if this wasn't due to his own selfishness too, his desire to keep Arthur all to himself in spite of the inevitable.
The sun rose higher in the sky, and Merlin perused every mental avenue he could imagine. When the idea finally struck, he raced out of the room at top speed, amazed it had taken him so long.
When he reached Gwen's house, he almost battered the door down with his knocks.
"Merlin? What is it, what's happened?"
"I," said Merlin, a little breathless, a little nervous, "have just had the best idea of my life."
Gwen stared at him as if he'd entirely lost his mind. "Well then. I suppose you'd better come in."
***
Gwen watched Merlin as he paced up and down in her front room, his eyes a little manic with some new potential.
"So what it is?" she asked at length.
"I think you should marry Arthur," Merlin blurted out.
"Excuse me?"
"I mean --" Merlin grimaced. "I'll start again. Gwen, you are the best woman I know. Camelot is in desperate need of a queen, and -- well, you must know how much Arthur cares for you."
"I'm not one of those girls, Merlin, I don't need your pity," Gwen said, stunned they were having this conversation. "I'm not going to marry myself off to anyone who might have me, I can manage perfectly well on my own."
"No, no no, that's not what I meant."
"What, did Arthur send you for a joke or something? It isn't very funny."
"Guinevere!" Merlin sounded exasperated, which made Gwen pause.
"You -- you're not actually serious."
"Completely."
"Oh. Wait, no, I don't understand at all."
"Everyone wants Arthur to marry, and he won't be reasonable about it," said Merlin. "There are all sorts of eligible princesses and things, but he won't have it. He kept talking about love, stuff like that, and how he -- how he and I --"
"Yes, I know about that."
Merlin gaped a little.
"We realised ages ago, what did you take us for? I mean --" Gwen trailed away. It took constant effort to remind herself that Morgana wasn't here any more, that there was no 'we'. The thought stung every time, but regret on the subject was useless. Morgana's life had taken another path, and no amount of Gwen's longing that it were otherwise would bring her back to Camelot.
"Will you think about it?" Merlin asked. "I know it's a huge thing to ask, but I know no one better, and I don't know what else Arthur is going to do."
"Could you -- can I have some time?"
Merlin nodded. "Of course. I'll see you this evening?"
"Yes," Gwen said vaguely, her head spinning.
***
"You did what?" Arthur couldn't believe his ears.
"I just -- broached the question," said Merlin, looking awkward.
"Merlin, you clearly know nothing about the court, or how these things are done. Guinevere's no doubt mortally offended now, and I don't blame her. I'll have to go and apologise profusely, right now."
Merlin frowned. "This is Gwen we're talking about."
"Exactly. She matters." Arthur stalked off to find her.
Gwen looked shocked to see him when he arrived, and Arthur cursed Merlin's eternal name.
"Guinevere," he said, keeping his voice level. "May I come in?"
"Yes, of course."
She stepped aside, and Arthur bowed his head, walking in as respectfully as he could. "I owe you the most sincere apology," he said. "You should know that Merlin acted entirely on his own idiotic instinct, and I had no intention of impinging on you in such a way. I can only apologise."
"Oh." Gwen studied her hands. "Yes, all right."
"If there's anything I can do that will put this right, you have only to ask."
"Thank you." She still didn't meet his eye.
"Gwen? Is there something else the matter?"
"No, sire, nothing. It's just --" She waved a hand a little, her gaze remaining on the floor. "Obviously you wouldn't really think of -- I mean, I know it was just Merlin being, well, Merlin, but . . ."
She looked up at him then. "If you really had been asking, and obviously you weren't, I think that I might have said yes."
"You -- Gwen, you can't mean that. You must have dreams of your own, some lover you wish to wed. I won't have you give up your life out of some sense of duty."
"I did, Arthur." She considered him steadily, her eyes bright. "There was someone, and then she left."
Gwen's voice was calm, but it didn't make her words less painful. "Morgana left, and I stayed because I want to help you. If you need me -- and I can't imagine that you do, not like this, but if you do? Yes, I would accept, and gladly."
"Well." Arthur felt entirely discombobulated. "Well. I mean, that is to say --"
"Yes?"
"If you're sure, if you're really sure? It'd be an honour, and I'd -- well, all of us, we'd be very lucky."
They were both silent, and it felt to Arthur as though his whole world was hinged on what Gwen said next.
"Arthur?"
"Yes?"
"Did you just propose marriage to me?"
"I believe that I did, yes."
"Right," said Gwen. "Just . . . checking."
"And?"
"Arthur," she said, clapping a hand to her mouth to suppress laughter. "Yes, absolutely, yes."
"Gwen, thank you."
"Mm, I'm sure the court will be very grateful to you," Gwen said, dubious.
"If anyone so much as breathes the notion that you are somehow 'unworthy', I promise you they'll find themselves very unwelcome in my kingdom. In fact, you'll be able to tell them that yourself."
"Ah! So there are perks." Gwen smiled. "What do we do now?"
Arthur blinked. "I really don't know. Tell the court, I suppose."
"You probably should. I think we ought to see someone else first, though." She laced their fingers together and tugged him towards the door. "Let's find Merlin."
***
They held the wedding in midwinter, an opportunity to bring in Camelot's subjects and allow them to spend a night surrounded by roaring fires with the promise of a hot meal for all. Gwen spent weeks rationing out their food, making sure they had enough to feed anyone in the kingdom who came. She saved more than the castle truly had to spare, and Arthur wouldn't have stopped her for the world.
Merlin presided over the festivities, a visible sign of magic's new and welcome place in Camelot. He fluffed his words and went a little red about the ears as he spoke of Arthur and Gwen's union, but he filled the hall with golden light and charmed the crowds with flocks of doves.
Surrounded by his people and able to be certain of their safety, Arthur felt himself grow easy; calm and happy in a way he hadn't been since the day his father was killed. Merlin's smile was wide, and Gwen was laughing and beautiful right in front of him, the newly-crowned queen of Camelot.
An expectant hush fell over the crowd, and Gwen composed herself. She looked at Arthur with wide and serious eyes, and he'd never loved her so much. He drew her close, somehow finding the right places to rest his hands, and kissed her for the first time.
Cheers broke out, and Gwen pulled away, red-faced at the unaccustomed attention. Beside them, Merlin's gaze dropped to the ground, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth, hidden and meant for Arthur alone.
***
The celebrations lasted late into the night, a feast full of all the joy they had known before the war. Gwen flitted amongst everyone, a natural and a born queen, as Arthur had said to her many times before. She exchanged delicate nothings with courtiers, joked with the servants and had firm words for the knights when their words and deeds strayed from bawdy to discourteous.
"She's a marvel, isn't she?" Merlin had approached without Arthur even noticing (wine must truly be addling his senses). "You're a lucky man."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, to go over the finer points of the arrangement one more time -- more than anything, that Gwen was not his, that she belonged to no one -- but all he could really do was nod. "Yes, I am."
"And Camelot is blessed for it," Merlin continued. He glanced at Arthur sideways. "I suppose you're not so bad yourself, as well."
"You really still can't talk to me like that," said Arthur, grinning at the familiar joke.
Merlin nudged his shoulder. "Anyway, I'm going to make my escape now before I get sucked into another round of magic tricks for the children. I've still got Gaius's old hangover recipe, no doubt we'll need vats of the stuff tomorrow."
"I should stay," Arthur said regretfully.
"Of course you should," Merlin said, his tone brisk.
He clapped Arthur's shoulder, and his fingers brushed just beneath the collar of his shirt. The warmth lingered on Arthur's skin long after Merlin had left.
Arthur picked up a tankard from a passing server and took three long swallows. They'd talked this through, he and Gwen and Merlin, and everything ought to be right, and much better than Arthur had any right to hope for. It seemed madly fortuitous that all of this could fall into place, that in his position, and with Camelot as it was, he could still keep all the pieces of his heart together, and not have to sacrifice anything he would not willingly pay.
When Gwen found him, her smile was slipping, the result of a long day and the demands of half the kingdom.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Let's -- let's not have every day be like today," she said with a laugh. "I'm going to retire for the night, I think. Will you come with me?"
"Gladly."
They wound their way up through the castle until the sounds from the hall faded far away.
"They'll be up all night, I should imagine," said Arthur.
"Mmm, we'll probably see them at breakfast," Gwen agreed.
They reached the top of a staircase, and he hesitated.
"Go to him," she said, sudden and insistent. "He's probably only trying to be terribly noble and self-sacrificing again, and I refuse to do another round with him."
She smiled, and kissed Arthur's cheek. "The three of us, right to the end, that's what we promised."
Arthur knew better than to argue with her -- it was, perhaps, what he loved best about her. "Thank you," he said, knowing she knew just how much he meant it.
"I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Arthur."
"Good night, my Queen."
She beamed at that, and then she turned and walked towards her chambers.
Arthur only paused for a moment before he raced towards Merlin's rooms. A path he'd taken countless times, but tonight it felt as urgent as it had when they were taking their first, stumbling steps along this road.
Merlin was working once more when Arthur burst in -- he wouldn't stand on ceremony, not after a day filled up with it -- his hands idly sculpting his hair into off-centre tufts, a sure sign of deep concentration. Arthur didn't care.
Merlin blinked as Arthur let the door thud shut. "Arthur? What -- what's happened, is everything --?"
"Shut up," said Arthur.
Merlin was already half out of his seat by now, which made it easier for Arthur to reach out and curl his fingers into Merlin's shirt, hauling him close.
Arthur could make speeches so rousing the mildest of men would shout their battle cries from the rooftops. He could settle fractious disputes and win over children and recite ballads with the best of bards, all skills he had cultivated over the years. Merlin was the only thing that had ever left him speechless, and the worst of it was that Merlin most definitely knew it.
Arthur held Merlin's face between his palms and kissed him, his breath ragged and his chest tight with the wonder of this, this strange and certain thing that was still his, after everything.
"Can you stay?" Merlin asked, and Arthur breathed a yes against his skin.
He pulled Merlin away from his books with a slow and building urgency. They had so much time, but Arthur needed this.
"This feels -- no, this definitely is very strange."
"Uh," said Arthur, pausing awkwardly in the middle of peeling off Merlin's shirt, hovering over him.
Merlin frowned at him. "I'm pretty sure this isn't what you're meant to be doing on your wedding night." Then his eyes widened. "Well, I mean -- that wasn't what -- I don't mean you should go or anything, I was just -- making conversation."
"Please desist before you injure yourself," said Arthur, and yanked Merlin's shirt off the rest of the way before letting it fall on his head.
"Does this make me your mistress, then?" Merlin asked, muffled beneath the fabric before he pushed it away.
Arthur didn't know what to say for a second. "Has that honestly only just occurred to you?"
As Merlin flailed around for a reply, Arthur ignored him entirely and set to work parting them both from the rest of their clothes.
"We can talk about it later," Merlin said eventually, a little strangled as Arthur applied pressure to a familiar spot at the jut of Merlin's hips.
"I think that's the best idea you've had today," said Arthur. He trailed his hands up the hot skin of Merlin's thighs, and whatever Merlin might have said in reply was bitten off by a whimper.
Merlin's promises came easily, a litany of murmured devotion every time he pushed inside Arthur, but Arthur could never get past the magnitude of saying Merlin's name. He took his vows in full view of the kingdom today, but there were other things he had to swear here, private and unspoken. All he could do was pour all of his intent into the insistent press of his mouth against Merlin's, and hope it would be enough.
***
Gwen hummed to herself as she prepared for bed, revelling in the quiet pleasure of tending to herself alone. She knew she'd need to find a maidservant, and soon, but not just yet, it would still feel too strange. She put out her candles one by one, each light a hope she held for Camelot, a dream she had of days to come that would not go out with the darkness.
She slid between the sheets of her too-large bed, smiling with the residual happiness of the day. As she closed her eyes, she realised that there was one thing that would not change, queen or no. She would still dream of Morgana tonight. She tugged her sheets a little closer to her chest, and wondered what Morgana would think if she knew what had taken place today.
"I hope you're happy," Gwen said aloud to the room. "When I see you again, I'll ask you."
The room said nothing back.
Author: such_heights
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing/characters: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a not-for-profit transformative work based on characters and situations not my own.
Length: 3800 words
Prompt: Any historical fandom, any characters, It's true that their marriage isn't a passionate one; one or both of them prefers the attentions of their own sex. That doesn't mean they're unhappily married.
Summary: Uther had married for love, and Arthur has always believed he should do the same.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to glass_icarus, woldy and avendya for their speedy and helpful betas! All remaining errors are my own. (Also, it is still April 30th in many respectable time zones. >.>)
***
Something Old, Something New
***
News travelled slowly between kingdoms - the nobility always knew first, the villagers much later, if at all. But stories were told at inns by travellers who sat by the fire with a mug of ale for their troubles.
There was a war, the stories said, a terrible war born of vengeance and magic, the old religion rising up to claim their place and avenge their dead. Uther Pendragon met his death at the hands of a warrior queen, a prophet and a witch, an angel of death. No one knew her name, but it was said she had once been beloved of the king, a serpent lying at the heart of Camelot.
But Prince Arthur survived. Camelot was recovering, rebuilding, striking new alliances and learning new lessons. There was a whisper in the air, a word breathed with reverence by each traveller as they finished their story. Albion.
***
"Sire, there is one more matter I would bring to your attention."
Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, biting back the impulse to reply in sarcastic surprise. He passed a hand over his face, exhausted. It had been weeks since he took the throne, and still nothing was easy, and there seemed to be no rest awaiting him any time soon.
"Yes," he said eventually. "What is it, Matthew?"
"It's the matter of your queen. Or rather, your lack of one."
"Do we really have to --" Arthur started, before he realised that every adviser and attendant in the room had turned their attention to him with renewed focus.
"I --" Matthew hesitated before plunging on. "I've taken the liberty of drawing up a list of suitable candidates. There are many unions that could serve us very well, and this could be a real asset at the present time."
"My father married for love," said Arthur shortly. "My people will expect me to do the same."
"Many of these women are very beautiful -- young, accomplished, well-mannered. If you met them, sire, I believe you would be able to find a suitable match."
Arthur picked up the list and didn't look at it. "That will be all for today. I thank you all for your time and your thoughts."
He left the hall abruptly.
***
Merlin was poring over books when Arthur found him. Merlin had taken over Gaius's old rooms, turning his medicinal benches into magical experiment tables, and there would always be something strange and fascinating (and usually dangerous) going on.
Today, a row of candles were burning with every colour imaginable, shifting from red to blue and cycling through bright shades of yellow. Merlin seemed to be conducting them with absent-minded wafts of his fingers, bringing the flames ever-higher.
"Do you intend to set the entire castle on fire, or just this wing?" Arthur asked.
"Arthur!" Merlin leapt up, red-faced, and the candlelight vanished.
"You've really got to stop that guilty jump every time I see you doing magic, you know. We're a little past that stage."
"I -- yes, I know. Sorry. How are you? You look awful. I keep telling you, you need to stop, just for a day, get some rest."
Arthur shook his head. "I can't, you know that."
Merlin sighed. "Fine, fine. I'm sure you don't need me haranguing you as well -- what did the court have to say for themselves today?"
Arthur held up the list he was still clutching. "I need to get myself married, apparently."
He waited for Merlin's protest, but it didn't come. Merlin just snatched the paper out of his hands and started reading, punctuated with his own commentary.
"You know, Lady Cecilia is meant to be very beautiful, and Morgana always spoke well of --" Merlin stopped suddenly.
"You can say Morgana's name, you know," said Arthur.
"I know. It's just, I don't want to -- what she did . . ."
"In her place, I might have well have done the same."
It was something Arthur would never be able to admit in public, but he knew it to be the truth. His father had made bad decisions and powerful enemies, and none more deadly than Morgana. There was every chance that Arthur would never see her again, that she would never bring herself to return to Camelot, but he understood her, and missed her desperately. Merlin was no warrior, not at heart, and Arthur wasn't sure if he would ever truly understand what it was to fight not to defend others, but for your own justice.
"Well," Merlin said carefully, after a while. "I think that Morgana would say Cecilia is your best option. If you decide you like her, that is."
"You really don’t get it, do you?" Arthur asked, exasperated. "I don't want a marriage. I mean -- I know I have to, eventually, but --"
"But what?" Merlin asked, his voice suddenly soft.
"My father spoke so highly of my mother, you know. Always. How much he loved her. That was what I understand -- what I want -- a marriage to be."
"You could love one of these women," said Merlin. "If you gave yourself a little time, if you tried."
"No, I don't think so. I've tried, before, but even before I met you, I couldn't." Arthur broke off, unwilling to plunge into stories of messy entanglements that had always ended badly.
Merlin frowned. "I knew what might be expected of me, depending on how long I stayed your servant, and as it turns out it was -- well, it was brilliant, and every day I counted myself lucky because I knew it was going to end. I thought you'd get rid of me once you found out about my magic. When you didn't, I figured that this would be it. Camelot needs a queen, Arthur. And that's all right, I'll gladly step aside. I know you'll find some wondrous noblewoman to love, if that's what you want."
"For crying out loud, Merlin. Has this somehow bypassed you completely? I love you."
Merlin looked utterly stricken. He took a shaky breath. "Arthur, no, you have to --"
"I don't have to do anything," Arthur said, and he hauled Merlin close and kissed him fiercely.
"Mmf," said Merlin, which was something of an improvement.
Arthur dragged him away from his books and his work, better to push his overshirt open and plant long kisses at the base of Merlin's throat.
"Arthur," Merlin said hoarsely, his words humming against Arthur's mouth. "We'll do something, we'll find someone, I had no idea that you --"
"Shut up," Arthur murmured, and dropped to his knees.
"I -- oh god -- yes, okay, yes, just don't --"
"I'm not going anywhere," Arthur murmured, staring up at Merlin intently before grabbing him at the hips. He'd prove his words any way he knew how.
***
Merlin woke with the sun the next morning. Arthur was still sleeping heavily next to him, his arm flung over Merlin's chest.
He slid out from Arthur's hold as quietly as he could and opened the window, looking out over the courtyard and wondering what on earth they were going to do next. Arthur seemed entirely unreasonable on the point of a marriage, but it didn't change the fact that he needed a queen.
Merlin thought about it, and thought some more, and felt like banging his head against a wall. He could see no way out, no way to change Arthur's mind. He wondered, with a twinge of guilt, if this wasn't due to his own selfishness too, his desire to keep Arthur all to himself in spite of the inevitable.
The sun rose higher in the sky, and Merlin perused every mental avenue he could imagine. When the idea finally struck, he raced out of the room at top speed, amazed it had taken him so long.
When he reached Gwen's house, he almost battered the door down with his knocks.
"Merlin? What is it, what's happened?"
"I," said Merlin, a little breathless, a little nervous, "have just had the best idea of my life."
Gwen stared at him as if he'd entirely lost his mind. "Well then. I suppose you'd better come in."
***
Gwen watched Merlin as he paced up and down in her front room, his eyes a little manic with some new potential.
"So what it is?" she asked at length.
"I think you should marry Arthur," Merlin blurted out.
"Excuse me?"
"I mean --" Merlin grimaced. "I'll start again. Gwen, you are the best woman I know. Camelot is in desperate need of a queen, and -- well, you must know how much Arthur cares for you."
"I'm not one of those girls, Merlin, I don't need your pity," Gwen said, stunned they were having this conversation. "I'm not going to marry myself off to anyone who might have me, I can manage perfectly well on my own."
"No, no no, that's not what I meant."
"What, did Arthur send you for a joke or something? It isn't very funny."
"Guinevere!" Merlin sounded exasperated, which made Gwen pause.
"You -- you're not actually serious."
"Completely."
"Oh. Wait, no, I don't understand at all."
"Everyone wants Arthur to marry, and he won't be reasonable about it," said Merlin. "There are all sorts of eligible princesses and things, but he won't have it. He kept talking about love, stuff like that, and how he -- how he and I --"
"Yes, I know about that."
Merlin gaped a little.
"We realised ages ago, what did you take us for? I mean --" Gwen trailed away. It took constant effort to remind herself that Morgana wasn't here any more, that there was no 'we'. The thought stung every time, but regret on the subject was useless. Morgana's life had taken another path, and no amount of Gwen's longing that it were otherwise would bring her back to Camelot.
"Will you think about it?" Merlin asked. "I know it's a huge thing to ask, but I know no one better, and I don't know what else Arthur is going to do."
"Could you -- can I have some time?"
Merlin nodded. "Of course. I'll see you this evening?"
"Yes," Gwen said vaguely, her head spinning.
***
"You did what?" Arthur couldn't believe his ears.
"I just -- broached the question," said Merlin, looking awkward.
"Merlin, you clearly know nothing about the court, or how these things are done. Guinevere's no doubt mortally offended now, and I don't blame her. I'll have to go and apologise profusely, right now."
Merlin frowned. "This is Gwen we're talking about."
"Exactly. She matters." Arthur stalked off to find her.
Gwen looked shocked to see him when he arrived, and Arthur cursed Merlin's eternal name.
"Guinevere," he said, keeping his voice level. "May I come in?"
"Yes, of course."
She stepped aside, and Arthur bowed his head, walking in as respectfully as he could. "I owe you the most sincere apology," he said. "You should know that Merlin acted entirely on his own idiotic instinct, and I had no intention of impinging on you in such a way. I can only apologise."
"Oh." Gwen studied her hands. "Yes, all right."
"If there's anything I can do that will put this right, you have only to ask."
"Thank you." She still didn't meet his eye.
"Gwen? Is there something else the matter?"
"No, sire, nothing. It's just --" She waved a hand a little, her gaze remaining on the floor. "Obviously you wouldn't really think of -- I mean, I know it was just Merlin being, well, Merlin, but . . ."
She looked up at him then. "If you really had been asking, and obviously you weren't, I think that I might have said yes."
"You -- Gwen, you can't mean that. You must have dreams of your own, some lover you wish to wed. I won't have you give up your life out of some sense of duty."
"I did, Arthur." She considered him steadily, her eyes bright. "There was someone, and then she left."
Gwen's voice was calm, but it didn't make her words less painful. "Morgana left, and I stayed because I want to help you. If you need me -- and I can't imagine that you do, not like this, but if you do? Yes, I would accept, and gladly."
"Well." Arthur felt entirely discombobulated. "Well. I mean, that is to say --"
"Yes?"
"If you're sure, if you're really sure? It'd be an honour, and I'd -- well, all of us, we'd be very lucky."
They were both silent, and it felt to Arthur as though his whole world was hinged on what Gwen said next.
"Arthur?"
"Yes?"
"Did you just propose marriage to me?"
"I believe that I did, yes."
"Right," said Gwen. "Just . . . checking."
"And?"
"Arthur," she said, clapping a hand to her mouth to suppress laughter. "Yes, absolutely, yes."
"Gwen, thank you."
"Mm, I'm sure the court will be very grateful to you," Gwen said, dubious.
"If anyone so much as breathes the notion that you are somehow 'unworthy', I promise you they'll find themselves very unwelcome in my kingdom. In fact, you'll be able to tell them that yourself."
"Ah! So there are perks." Gwen smiled. "What do we do now?"
Arthur blinked. "I really don't know. Tell the court, I suppose."
"You probably should. I think we ought to see someone else first, though." She laced their fingers together and tugged him towards the door. "Let's find Merlin."
***
They held the wedding in midwinter, an opportunity to bring in Camelot's subjects and allow them to spend a night surrounded by roaring fires with the promise of a hot meal for all. Gwen spent weeks rationing out their food, making sure they had enough to feed anyone in the kingdom who came. She saved more than the castle truly had to spare, and Arthur wouldn't have stopped her for the world.
Merlin presided over the festivities, a visible sign of magic's new and welcome place in Camelot. He fluffed his words and went a little red about the ears as he spoke of Arthur and Gwen's union, but he filled the hall with golden light and charmed the crowds with flocks of doves.
Surrounded by his people and able to be certain of their safety, Arthur felt himself grow easy; calm and happy in a way he hadn't been since the day his father was killed. Merlin's smile was wide, and Gwen was laughing and beautiful right in front of him, the newly-crowned queen of Camelot.
An expectant hush fell over the crowd, and Gwen composed herself. She looked at Arthur with wide and serious eyes, and he'd never loved her so much. He drew her close, somehow finding the right places to rest his hands, and kissed her for the first time.
Cheers broke out, and Gwen pulled away, red-faced at the unaccustomed attention. Beside them, Merlin's gaze dropped to the ground, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth, hidden and meant for Arthur alone.
***
The celebrations lasted late into the night, a feast full of all the joy they had known before the war. Gwen flitted amongst everyone, a natural and a born queen, as Arthur had said to her many times before. She exchanged delicate nothings with courtiers, joked with the servants and had firm words for the knights when their words and deeds strayed from bawdy to discourteous.
"She's a marvel, isn't she?" Merlin had approached without Arthur even noticing (wine must truly be addling his senses). "You're a lucky man."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, to go over the finer points of the arrangement one more time -- more than anything, that Gwen was not his, that she belonged to no one -- but all he could really do was nod. "Yes, I am."
"And Camelot is blessed for it," Merlin continued. He glanced at Arthur sideways. "I suppose you're not so bad yourself, as well."
"You really still can't talk to me like that," said Arthur, grinning at the familiar joke.
Merlin nudged his shoulder. "Anyway, I'm going to make my escape now before I get sucked into another round of magic tricks for the children. I've still got Gaius's old hangover recipe, no doubt we'll need vats of the stuff tomorrow."
"I should stay," Arthur said regretfully.
"Of course you should," Merlin said, his tone brisk.
He clapped Arthur's shoulder, and his fingers brushed just beneath the collar of his shirt. The warmth lingered on Arthur's skin long after Merlin had left.
Arthur picked up a tankard from a passing server and took three long swallows. They'd talked this through, he and Gwen and Merlin, and everything ought to be right, and much better than Arthur had any right to hope for. It seemed madly fortuitous that all of this could fall into place, that in his position, and with Camelot as it was, he could still keep all the pieces of his heart together, and not have to sacrifice anything he would not willingly pay.
When Gwen found him, her smile was slipping, the result of a long day and the demands of half the kingdom.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Let's -- let's not have every day be like today," she said with a laugh. "I'm going to retire for the night, I think. Will you come with me?"
"Gladly."
They wound their way up through the castle until the sounds from the hall faded far away.
"They'll be up all night, I should imagine," said Arthur.
"Mmm, we'll probably see them at breakfast," Gwen agreed.
They reached the top of a staircase, and he hesitated.
"Go to him," she said, sudden and insistent. "He's probably only trying to be terribly noble and self-sacrificing again, and I refuse to do another round with him."
She smiled, and kissed Arthur's cheek. "The three of us, right to the end, that's what we promised."
Arthur knew better than to argue with her -- it was, perhaps, what he loved best about her. "Thank you," he said, knowing she knew just how much he meant it.
"I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Arthur."
"Good night, my Queen."
She beamed at that, and then she turned and walked towards her chambers.
Arthur only paused for a moment before he raced towards Merlin's rooms. A path he'd taken countless times, but tonight it felt as urgent as it had when they were taking their first, stumbling steps along this road.
Merlin was working once more when Arthur burst in -- he wouldn't stand on ceremony, not after a day filled up with it -- his hands idly sculpting his hair into off-centre tufts, a sure sign of deep concentration. Arthur didn't care.
Merlin blinked as Arthur let the door thud shut. "Arthur? What -- what's happened, is everything --?"
"Shut up," said Arthur.
Merlin was already half out of his seat by now, which made it easier for Arthur to reach out and curl his fingers into Merlin's shirt, hauling him close.
Arthur could make speeches so rousing the mildest of men would shout their battle cries from the rooftops. He could settle fractious disputes and win over children and recite ballads with the best of bards, all skills he had cultivated over the years. Merlin was the only thing that had ever left him speechless, and the worst of it was that Merlin most definitely knew it.
Arthur held Merlin's face between his palms and kissed him, his breath ragged and his chest tight with the wonder of this, this strange and certain thing that was still his, after everything.
"Can you stay?" Merlin asked, and Arthur breathed a yes against his skin.
He pulled Merlin away from his books with a slow and building urgency. They had so much time, but Arthur needed this.
"This feels -- no, this definitely is very strange."
"Uh," said Arthur, pausing awkwardly in the middle of peeling off Merlin's shirt, hovering over him.
Merlin frowned at him. "I'm pretty sure this isn't what you're meant to be doing on your wedding night." Then his eyes widened. "Well, I mean -- that wasn't what -- I don't mean you should go or anything, I was just -- making conversation."
"Please desist before you injure yourself," said Arthur, and yanked Merlin's shirt off the rest of the way before letting it fall on his head.
"Does this make me your mistress, then?" Merlin asked, muffled beneath the fabric before he pushed it away.
Arthur didn't know what to say for a second. "Has that honestly only just occurred to you?"
As Merlin flailed around for a reply, Arthur ignored him entirely and set to work parting them both from the rest of their clothes.
"We can talk about it later," Merlin said eventually, a little strangled as Arthur applied pressure to a familiar spot at the jut of Merlin's hips.
"I think that's the best idea you've had today," said Arthur. He trailed his hands up the hot skin of Merlin's thighs, and whatever Merlin might have said in reply was bitten off by a whimper.
Merlin's promises came easily, a litany of murmured devotion every time he pushed inside Arthur, but Arthur could never get past the magnitude of saying Merlin's name. He took his vows in full view of the kingdom today, but there were other things he had to swear here, private and unspoken. All he could do was pour all of his intent into the insistent press of his mouth against Merlin's, and hope it would be enough.
***
Gwen hummed to herself as she prepared for bed, revelling in the quiet pleasure of tending to herself alone. She knew she'd need to find a maidservant, and soon, but not just yet, it would still feel too strange. She put out her candles one by one, each light a hope she held for Camelot, a dream she had of days to come that would not go out with the darkness.
She slid between the sheets of her too-large bed, smiling with the residual happiness of the day. As she closed her eyes, she realised that there was one thing that would not change, queen or no. She would still dream of Morgana tonight. She tugged her sheets a little closer to her chest, and wondered what Morgana would think if she knew what had taken place today.
"I hope you're happy," Gwen said aloud to the room. "When I see you again, I'll ask you."
The room said nothing back.