Gwen struggled to keep her grip on her comb steady as she brushed her hair. Her fingers were shaking too much for the effort to be successful though. But with what exactly? Excitement? Disbelief? Uncertainty? "May I help you with that, my lady?" Gwen looked up to see three different palace maids hovering about her. They had already helped her with her bath, and fitted her into her dress. She didn't think she could take any more of this adulation. She'd probably have to get used to it. Being the future queen and all. Just the thought of it caused a flurry of movement in the pit of her stomach. Not the queen bit, that was actually slightly frightening, but the thought that in less than an hour she would be marrying Arthur.

Her thoughts raced back, remembering each and every time he brushed against her, each and every time they had looked at each other longingly, each and every time they had kissed, and each and every time she tried to force herself to remember that it could not possibly be. It almost wasn't. So much had gotten in the way. Uther, Lancelot, Vivian, Elena. More than a hundred years of tradition and social standing dictated that a servant and a member of the royal family should not even communicate, let alone fall in love.

Yet love hardly seems to listen to anyone. It always gets its way. Gwen thought she would never be able to face Arthur again, after the events with Lancelot. How could she have been so foolish, so cruel? And yet a simple thought gave her courage. She loved Arthur. She always had and she always would. She racked her mind and heart for days on end and try to find the feelings for Lancelot that had lead her to betray her king but couldn't. There was space in her heart for only one man, regardless of whether he would ever wish to see her face again.

Arthur sighed as he allowed the silence to sink in. It had been a good decision, asking Merlin to leave him alone for a moment of peace. The monarch's thoughts instinctively rushed to his late father. He almost chuckled as he imagined what Uther would say if he saw him now. He wouldn't understand. Hell. Arthur didn't understand himself until a while ago. How could he let her back into his life after she had betrayed him? Hadn't he been warned against consorting with the lower classes?

And yet it made perfect sense now. He loved Guinevere. He loved her bouncy black curls. He loved how she could say but two sentences and make him feel surer of himself. He loved how her name rolled of his tongue. Gui-ne-vere. The past few days had been tough. He had become uncertain of his abilities as a ruler, unsure of his choice in companions. But Tristan holding a dying Isolde in his arms had sent a message clear into his muddled mind. Suddenly, he was faced with an an existence without Guinevere, and he suddenly realized how it could feel to bee completely numb. To lose the will to live. To feel like there was nothing worth fighting for.
That was when he had made his decision. Because his need to have her by his side outweighed any mistakes she may have made in the past.

Gwen took a deep breath and lifted her head up as she saw the ornate doors in front of her open. She gasped inwardly, as she took in the floral decorations that bedecked the hall. She had never seen anything more lovely in her life. For the people to have put such a wedding together, taking into account recent events, was a truly touching gesture. It showed how much the people loved and respected their king. With all these thoughts running through her head, Gwen was grateful to have Gaius' hand to hold. She scanned through the crowd that had gathered in the hall to see a familiar pair of eyes way up in front. Seeing Merlin's smiling face gave her the courage to slowly make her way down the aisle.

Arthur felt his breath catching in his throat. His lips parted slightly as suddenly the soft music in the background and the excited chatters of the gathered audience slowly faded away. He had always found Guinevere beautiful, but today she had robbed him of the ability to form coherent sentences. She walked down the aisle and took her place opposite him, smiling ever so slightly as she looked up at him. If Arthur had any lasting doubts, that one smile had driven them away.

"Arthur Pendragon, is it your wish to become one with this woman?" "It is." "Guinevere Leodegrance, is it your wish to become one with this man?" "It is." "By the power vested in me, by the ancient laws, I know pronounce you husband and wife. And now, the bride and groom wish to say something to one another."

"Arthur, I do not know what to say to you. When the world saw me as just a servant, you saw me as something more. You helped me believe in a kingdom based on love, kindness and equality. Your courage and bravery never cease to inspire me. You move me. Each and everyday. And I know that you will continue to. And I promise to remain a loyal friend, a faithful companion and a loving wife, until the end of time itself."
"Guinevere, I am not a perfect king. And I cannot promise to be the perfect husband. But I will promise to never stop loving you, for as long as I may live. You gave me direction every time I seemed to be losing my way. I cannot hope to repay all that you have given me. And so, in my bid to pay my dues, I promise to be yours to command, forever and always."

"You may now kiss the bride."