A/N: Inspired by Train- 'Marry Me' and also mixed with Train's '50 Ways to Say Goodbye'.
Set over a variety of times over the series.
It wasn't that Gwen was refusing him, she was just practical and liked to keep things in perspective, she knew when someone was offering a serious proposition and when they were making impulsive decisions that couldn't be kept. If she could she'd marry him every day up until the day she finally did. But she didn't like to imagine that day too much in case it never came.
It was early that morning that Arthur passed the kitchen corridor and heard the raised voices of panicked serving staff.
Upon entering he was confronted by Gwen, a spilled tray of porridge and a red-faced Cook.
As Gwen fumbled agitatedly with her apron strings and muttered restlessly over the state of Lady Morgana's breakfast, Arthur swept up the fallen tray and successfully succeeded in holding back the vengeful Cook as she sought repayment for the dreadful wrong that Gwen had brought upon her kitchen and her hard slaved-over food.
Arthur found Gwen's trembling hands and squeezed them gently, stilling them and moving to tie the apron for her as she worried and stressed over the wasted food and her own lateness, something relatively surreal sounding to Arthur before he remembered that most servants that weren't called Merlin were, in fact, expected to arrive on time to their master or mistresses quarters.
"If you were a queen you wouldn't need to wear these." He commented conversationally, only half listening to Gwen's anxious ramblings whilst tightly tying the fiddly apron in a knot at her back.
Gwen responded just a dismissively and quickly before braving the parlour again for a new bowl from Cook.
"If I were a queen I wouldn't be worried over the trivialities of my Lady's breakfast."
Arthur entered the small cottage his blue cloak draped over his shoulders to hide his face from his father's watchful soldiers. Upon entering however he was immediately confronted by Gwen quietly stacking the low-burning fire and a small vase of wildflowers sitting tidily on the table.
"Where are those from?"
It hadn't meant to come out quite so challenging, Arthur didn't like to think he was the jealous type.
"The baker's son brought them to me this morning, I fear he has a little crush, poor boy."
So she'd decided to use them for decoration on the table for their evening together? Obviously anticipating that Arthur definitely wasn't the jealous type.
"You don't like him?"
"He's a lovely boy but misguided I think."
There was silence for a moment as Gwen stacked wood and Arthur hovered awkwardly in the doorway, wanting to take his cloak off but not really knowing what to do with it.
"If I married you, you could wear a ring and no one would bother you."
Gwen didn't even turn around, just brushed her hands off on her dress and prodded the growing flames with an iron poker.
"That's a bit of an assumption, a ring can mean many things other than marriage."
Arthur grunted casually at the dismissal and sat down heavily at the table where Gwen, after a second, joined him. They sat companionly together and talked aimlessly throughout the evening until the fire grew dim and eventually died and Gwen slipped into a dreamless slumber on Arthur's forearm.
Gwen dropped off his laundry that evening, him having already dismissed Merlin under the guise of being a constant nuisance and hindrance to Arthur's paperwork when really it was because Arthur could clearly see he was visibly exhausted from their latest excursion.
Gwen bustled about in much the same way Merlin did but with more grace and rather less constant nagging in his ear. Outside the chilling rain beat down unforgivingly from the darkened sky. All those in the lower town had wisely retired for the night having no wish to be caught out in such a storm.
"I'll get going now if there's nothing else." She said, folding his shirt and opening his cupboard door only to be confronted by the jumbled mess that Merlin had stuffed together without even a pretence at tidiness.
"You should marry me, then you wouldn't have to walk home through the rain every night."
Gwen peered cautiously out the window where the horrific weather spat harshly at the glass as if to test her resolve.
"It shouldn't be too bad if a wear my hood, I'll see you tomorrow, Sire."
She then left, taking the laundry basket with her. A little later Arthur watched her cloaked form stride purposely across the courtyard, battling the strong winds and freezing wet.
The King and Queen of the neighbouring kingdom were visiting for the renewal of important trading agreements and in their honour and good health a feast had been held in the Hall, the tables adorned with flowering ivy and pink crocuses. Large Dahlias flourished strikingly at the head of the table where the King and Queen sat, wild begonias were strung and woven into the Queen's long blonde hair.
On each of their head's sat the most magnificent crowns, melded from gold and silver and styled to look like the beautiful flowers their kingdom was so well known for. Arthur could see Gwen standing slightly behind and to the side of him, attending to the Queen. Her eyes were bright with fascination at the imaginative jewellery as she moved forward to fill the Queen's goblet and Arthur found himself smiling and leaning back to talk to her.
"What do you think of their taste in finery, slightly wealthier than Camelot I should say?"
Gwen eyed the fashionable nobles and their vast array of fauna.
"There're absolutely beautiful, they look like they've been woven from the flowers themselves."
"You should marry me and I'd have crowns like those made for both of us."
Gwen glanced back at him and her smile was disbelieving as she raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.
"I doubt you'd find one big enough for yourself."
"Marry me so I can stop flashing my teeth at pretty princesses come here intent on wooing me." Arthur demanded as the Lady Carol made eyes at him from across the council chambers, her large blue orbs fluttering sickeningly in his direction.
Gwen smiled behind her hand but turned away from her Lord's pleading looks of desperation
"It's not as if you don't flash them at everything anyway." She said walking away and leaving Arthur to fend off the Lady Carol's imprudent attentions for himself.
Merlin made a grab at the cakes as he and Arthur passed her in the hallway, she slapped his hand and sent him a reproving frown to which he pouted grumpily and gave her childishly pleading eyes.
"It's taken me all afternoon to make these and used all my flour." She admonished but because she was Gwen she still broke off a small piece handed it to him, delighting in his affectionate smile.
Arthur couldn't resist it as she walked away and called after her making Merlin choke on his half eaten cake.
"When you marry me you'll have as many cakes as you like prepared by Camelot's kitchens."
Gwen laughed but continued walking while Merlin made a sound like a strangled cat, his face turning an odd shade of blue.
"And what use would a fat queen be to you, I'd have to buy a bigger horse to ride out on."
Arthur accepted this with grace as Gwen disappeared from sight and slapped Merlin slightly harder than helpfully on the back to dislodge the cake he'd swallowed whole in his shock.
"Dance with me, Merlin," she said, cheeks flushed and eyes alight as she clasped his hand and pulled on it expectantly.
Merlin grinned and adjusted his cloak with his free hand before taking her arm in his.
"I'll just trip over your feet."
"I don't care."
And that was that it seemed as Gwen dragged him towards the fray of dancing, jostling, laughing pairs caught up in the lively merriment the night had wrought.
Merlin winked and raised his eyebrows playfully at Arthur as he passed who wore a strangely twisted expression as though he wasn't quite sure what face to pull. He eventually settled on a scowl but it was light and held none of its usual edge.
The knights and their King stood by and watched the peasants and servants revel in the newly sprung happiness, dancing freely in the square, the large fire burning brightly whilst loose bunting fluttered jovially in the breeze.
In the centre of the melee, Gwen and Merlin spun in large fast circles, springing across the cobbles in a series of wild and untamed twirls that caused Gwen to hit herself in the nose twice and Merlin to trip heavily over her cloak and nearly bring the both of them crashing down.
Neither seemed to care however, delirious with delight and infectious laughter and maybe a little too much wine. It seemed the same for the majority of the town's joyous dancers.
Gwaine was grinning madly. He sent a series of winks and lowered glances at a young serving girl in what Arthur supposed he probably thought of as a surreptitious manner but instead looked as though he were having a mild fit.
The girl blushed delightedly and smoothed out her neat dress, washed and pressed for that evening.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked as Gwaine began to march purposely in the poor girl's direction.
"Well, if Merlin's allowed to dance with the future queen I should think I should be allowed the odd jig with the serving staff; I don't see much of them, always hiding in the kitchens."
"You're forgetting something, Gwaine," Arthur intoned flatly, "Merlin's a servant and you're not, what do you think people will say if the nobility are seen dancing with the lower classes in such a ludicrous manner?" He gestured unnecessarily at the undignified, happy scramble the lower town called a dance.
"Hm," Gwaine nodded sagely as though deeply considering this point, "however you're also forgetting something princess."
He patted Arthur mockingly on the shoulder, "I'm no noble."
And with that he left and was seen two minutes later entering the swirling skirmish with the serving girl on his arm, his red Camelot cape flashing cheerfully as he spun her several times and disappeared amongst the people.
Not one peasant battered an eye.
Several council members coughed covertly into their handkerchiefs but after chancing a glance at Arthur's reaction to this sudden development and finding nothing but bleak surprise and slight amusement, refrained from doing anything more than watching on disdainfully.
Leon nudged Arthur in the arm, making him jump slightly.
"Sire, I believe Guinevere is calling you."
Arthur looked up yet saw nothing but silent hilarity in Gwen's eyes as she stood panting to one side and Merlin approached him all too cheerfully. Arthur knew immediately by the jaunty walk and unwaveringly large grin that whatever Merlin was about to say he seemed to find infinitely funny which normally went hand-in-hand with a subsequent blow to Arthur's dignity.
"No," he said as Merlin stopped short in front of him.
"You haven't heard what I've to say yet." He replied the smirk never falling even slightly.
"I don't have to, that stupid grin on your face tells me everything I need."
Merlin held up his hands in mock surrender, his shoulders slumped and his gaze downcast. Arthur knew it was all an act and so did Merlin it seemed as he still couldn't hide his smirking under the façade of resignation.
"Of course, my Lord, never mind. Lady Guinevere simply wished to know if you would care to join her in dance for the evening. I'll just tell her you're not up to it."
Arthur was surprised only for a moment. He looked back at the gathered council men still muttering scornfully over Sir Gwaine's lack of respect that, to be honest, hadn't really surprised anyone and wondered what they'd think if their King joined a peasants dance. Probably have a fit.
Then he remember it was Gwen. Sweet, nice, caring, slightly tipsy Gwen who stood waiting for him on the outskirts of the square, just outside the dance. Waiting and watching for his reaction to her offer.
"Alright then," he agreed
Merlin looked taken aback.
"What, really?"
"Yeah, can't have you trampling her poor toes again with your mindless stumbling, can I? Wouldn't be chivalrous."
Gwen's smile had never been as wide as when Arthur strode up and took her hand in his, behind him Merlin pulled a face and muttered something likely offensive towards the nature of Arthur's knightly code to Leon who smirked good-naturedly.
Arthur tried to use the kingly beam and adorned, flowery language that had enticed many a Lady to a dance at feasts. Unfortunately Guinevere's smile seemed to have some powerful forgetting effect that blocked off his throat and backed up his words into a tumbled pile in his chest so that he could only cough throatily and murmur stupidly;
"Would you like to dance, Merlin said you wanted to?"
"Yes," responded Gwen immediately with incredibly earnest and eternally kind eyes, clutching his hand and pulling him gently towards the maddened fray.
They span in a slow circle, uncaring as to the sprightly nature of the music and Arthur smiled down at her softly yet impishly as they settled into meaningless goading of the other.
"How can I make sure you only dance with me tonight?"
Guinevere looked up at him though her eyelashes, the firelight casting dark shadows across her soft features.
"I'm not sure you can, Sire, only a wife could take that space."
They twirled again to their own quiet melody, completely alone and utterly ignored by the crowd but infinitely happy for it.
"Then I'll have to marry you, to save you from Merlin's clumsy feet."
"When I marry you I'll dance with whoever I please."
Arthur took her wrist in his hand and pressed a kiss to it.
"Then I'll bake you cakes and pick you flowers and tie your apron when you're worried until you're besotted by me."
Gwen stared up into his eyes and moved as if in a trance in step with him.
"I don't think that'll be a problem."