So this was a while in the making :D But now it's done! Finished! Out for your viewing pleasure ^.^ Thanks to MildeAmasoj for being awesome and fangirling about my work, and supersupersuuuuuper thank you to CaptainOzone to being the best beta ever and for editing my fic on such short notice! Love you both! 333 And as for my audience, if it isn't too much trouble, please drop a review, it means the world to me! ;D

I don't own Merlin :(


"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." -Unknown


Gwen bit her lip, forcing back tears as she strode though the castle. When she'd agreed to marry Arthur, she had been more focused on marrying Arthur and less on actually becoming queen. Even as she was being crowned, she hadn't really grasped the overwhelming implications that came with being the only female on the throne. But now? Now she was queen, and as the weeks had painfully dragged on, Gwen had been forced to face the truth. She was woefully, disastrously, completely unsuited to be the Queen of Camelot.

Many (most foolish friends of hers) would say otherwise. She could just see Arthur's face if she told him about her fears. It would hurt to see the blind belief (followed swiftly by crushing disappointment) on her husband's handsome face. It was for this reason (and many more complex ones) that Gwen hadn't confided in her husband. Yet another sign of her overwhelming ineptness. She couldn't even be courageous with her wonderful, loving husband. How was she supposed to confront a council full of snobbish, traditional old men?

But her secrets from Arthur fell low on Gwen's list of headaches. In all of her years as a castle maid, she had never realized how much royalty truly had to know. There was a lot more to being a queen than wearing a fancy dress and keeping up with court scandals. Princesses, apparently, come with the knowledge, but Gwen was no princess. Everyday, her head pounded, banging each and every lesson into her exhausted brain. Politics, maps, who to talk to and who not to, where to sit, what to say, how to dance, who to dance with and when it was acceptable to do so, who the Princess of Senan was and why she couldn't be let near the Duchess of Belquat*, every political struggle, every single damn ancestor Arthur's scribes have ever had the heartlessness to dig up... history and manners and dress choice and everything that Gwen had never had to worry about. There was no need for practical skills here, no need for the queen to be able to cook or clean or forge a key or sew the neatest stich in all of Camelot. No, she had to learn traditional, proper skills, or she would never, ever succeed. Gwen thanked God every day that she could read. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to learn all of this illiterate.

And there were so many more nightmares to add to her living hell. Never again would Gwen walk the halls of Camelot without whispers and rumors stalking her steps. Never again could she wear her simple dresses and trousers. Never again could she simply walk out of the castle walls for an evening stroll, or peruse the market unnoticed, or visit sick friends by their beds. No, she would forever be followed by whispers of scandal and adultery. She would forever be caught in death traps of silk and velvets, her feet crushed into shoes clearly destined for torture rooms instead of walking. Gwen would forever be shadowed by an unshakable guard, and her sick friends wouldn't see her, for they couldn't talk in the old way, now that she was queen. Gwen had never truly appreciated the freedom of her extraordinarily unextraordinary life, until it had been snatched from her, and she now was forced to live a life cursed with unbearable extraordinariness.

Of course, marrying Arthur had been worth it. So worth it. The nights with her love... they melted away every heartache, every worry, leaving only pure bliss and in its wake. But reality always returned with the sun and a usually empty bed, and her days seemed to be getting more hellish with every passing hour. She was starting to seriously consider talking to Arthur, or Merlin, or Elyan—someone, anyone, who could spare her a few moments to let her rant. It was a shame that Arthur got to hang out with the boys while she was trapped by the shallow, petty creatures that the court called "ladies". A quest, a trap, maybe even an attack would be a blessing right now... Gwen immediately scolded herself. What a thought! Still, she wouldn't mind a little action, or at least a little time alone.

Finally reaching her chambers, Gwen stumbled in, immediately kicking off her horrible shoes and collapsing on her bed. The smell of Arthur, normally comforting, only reminded her of the day's terrors. The unconventional choice to share chambers had been enthusiastically welcomed by Gwen, but what she really didn't need right now was a messenger looking for the king. What she needed was a nice long break. Gwen looked down at her dress and pulled in vain at the cords fastening it. She suddenly realized that she wanted to cry.

Pushing back the urge, she pulled harder. Crying all over herself would mean calling in her maid to re-apply Gwen's carefully sculpted makeup, which would raise some awkward questions. Gwen gave one last desperate pull, then, giving up, sunk back onto the bed with a raspy sigh. She hated her dress and she hated not being able to dress herself anymore, or put on her own makeup, or even do her hair. She hated the council, with their old-fashioned rules and customs and the way they would go silent whenever she said anything and the patronizing tone of their eventual answer. She hated the constant whispers of Lancelot, and the snide remarks about her birth, and the lessons that made her brain spin and her stubborn pact with herself to never tell a soul.

To Gwen's horror, she realized that her cheeks were wet. Hastily wiping the tears, she only found more in their place.

Damn.

She was just about to get up and try to salvage whatever that one girl had done when the door flew open. She jumped.

"Gwen?" There, in the door, was Merlin, a smudge of dirt on his nose and a scroll in his hand. "Have you seen Arthur? I could swear—" He stopped short, fully taking in the sight of her, blue eyes quickly flooding with concern. "What's wrong?"

Gwen sniffed, blinked twice, and burst into tears.

Immediately, Merlin strode in, guiding Gwen's shaking hand to an ornately carved chair and pulling up a stool beside her, carefully wiping her tears as she blubbered and sobbed. Through her self-induced torrent, she cried about Arthur, and her lessons, and about the whispers and her doubts and her imprisonment and her fears. For half an hour, Gwen poured out the depths of her heart, while Merlin listened silently, nodding occasionally and using his neckerchief to wipe away the black tracks from her swollen cheeks. Finally, when she had calmed down, everything having been said three times over, Merlin sat silently, emotions hidden, while he watched Gwen sniffle and try to judge his reaction. He turned his head towards the window.

"It's raining out."

Gwen blinked, then looked outside.

"So it is."

Merlin again was silent. Abruptly, he stood up, brushing off his trousers. He looked down at her, offered her a hand, helping her shakily stand. She watched, confused, as he strode towards her wardrobe and rummaged around, eventually pulling out a heap of clothes and tossing them onto the bed. Gwen realized with a shock that these were her old dresses. She looked up at him in bewilderment.

"Change into some real clothes and meet me outside." Gwen, surprised, watched him exit before jolting back into reality.

"Merlin! Wait!" He poked his head around the doorframe, and she smiled sheepishly. "Can... can, you..." He laughed as she motioned to the back of her dress, and came back in. She turned around and he worked on untying the knot that held the laces.

"You know, it's pathetic that Arthur can't dress himself. But with you, I feel like the help is merited."

She managed a small chuckle. "It is kind of pathetic. The armor I get. But the shirt? I would pay out all of Camelot's gold to wear that everyday." Merlin laughed and finished undoing the knot. Gwen sighed, enjoying the freedom, and Merlin turned around as she threw on a normal dress and some trousers, trying not to grin at Gwen's sigh of relief as she slipped into boots. Hidden under a cloak, she let Merlin lead her into the courtyard.

It was indeed pouring, and Gwen suddenly found herself wondering why Merlin had brought her out here, anyway. Before she could dwell too much on this, a laughing Merlin grabbed her hand, pulling her into the storm. She squeaked in protest, but Merlin only grinned. Finally Gwen shouted to be heard above the pounding of water on stone.

"Merlin! What are we doing?!" He laughed at her, causing a momentary burst of annoyance, it was raining out, but then he grabbed her round the waist and twirled her into the square, guiding her steps to a folk dance.

"We're dancing in the rain!" And suddenly it was so brilliantly obvious—what else would Merlin do with his overemotional, stressed friend, than drag her out into the downpour and make a dance of it? He wanted to make her laugh, to make her feel free again, and so he had chosen a completely ordinary folk dance that everyone knew, and a completely ordinary downpour that everyone was weathering, and he had taken her out to dance in it. So Gwen giggled, turned towards the wind, and let him.

Several hours later, when Merlin and Gwen stumbled into the castle, laughing, giddy, and soaked to the bone, eyes bright with the wonderful miracle of life, Arthur had the good sense to just smile and let it be.


*for all you anime/manga fans: subtle shoutout to one of my favorites, Reimei no Arcana, just cause I could ;)

And please review!