This is the randomness of me trying to think of what could happen after the next ep and then having it just dissolve into a soppy mess of fluff, and not just fluff but OOC fluff. Which is worse. And I can think of characters this would suit better but I'm too lazy to change it.

I'm going to blame the quality of this fic on a new found love of 'Community' (my new fav show, which supplies the snark that Merlin lacks a little of sometimes because it's supposedly a kid show - or something - and something that I desperately love. Love snark and banter and wit. Love it)...yes *sigh* oh, Jeff and Annie.


So anyway. I don't own Merlin or any Pez dispensers that I KNOW of.

This is set after Vivienne and her lot leave and from Arthur's POV because it's a bit different and fun. I like being arrogant and smug. It's fun.

Also I'm having real trouble imagining Gwen ALLOWING Arthur to apologize for his misguided wooing, because that makes whatever they have more real and they know it can't be and they haven't even ever discussed it so if anyone apologizes it'll be Gwen and she'll be saying sorry for believing he could act that much of a prat without magical enhancement. Or I may be pleasantly surprised and we'll get some honest Arwen from Ep2. But yeah, she doesn't apologize in this fic.


He becomes acutely aware that she's avoiding him when he realises that it's been a week since he's last seen her – and what a week that was. Well, of course she's attending to Morgana when his father's holding court but when it's over she mysteriously disappears. He's pretty sure she's changed the route she normally takes, because he used to pass her fairly often in the corridors. He even tries hanging around Morgana's quarters, casually of course. He tries to ignore the strange looks Merlin gives him after passing him for the third time on his way somewhere…wherever it is that Merlin goes during the day.

Out of sight, out of mind doesn't appear to apply to Guinevere. If anything it makes it worse. She must be particularly angry to treat him so poorly. Or worse she's disappointed. He takes to barging into Morgana's chambers on the off chance of ending this truly horrible game of hide and seek. She wants to play then he'll damn well seek! And only ends up startling an endless parade of nameless maids – well, he's sure they HAVE names but he's not in the mood for introductions right now, thank you very much. It's never her and unfortunately sometimes he finds Morgana. When she tires of lecturing him on manners she begins to throw things. A hairbrush to the temple puts an end to that approach, and now he finds himself avoiding Morgana. Which is not something he's sure he has the energy for.

He starts looking for her in every face and then when he starts to feel silly – if indeed he can feel any sillier – he pretends that he's not looking for her, which solves nothing but does make him feel better. He has his pride after all. So if anything he'd attribute his behaviour when he finally spots her in a setting he can approach her in to one-third anger, one-third exasperation and the final third being desperation. In no way is he proud of the way he bellows her name when he see her walking up the front steps. Or the way he charges over to her.

She clutches the basket in her arms closer to her body and stares at him as if he's deranged. Which he very well might be, and he knows just who to blame.

"Guinevere," he puffs, and then realises that he's spent a good deal too much time trying to find her and not nearly enough trying to work out what to say when he does.

A very secret and slightly embarrassed smile flits across her lips and he can tell she's trying hard not to laugh.

"Sire," she greets softly, and then looks up at him through her lashes. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He's not blushing, real men don't blush. He's just flushed from the run over here. But it doesn't help that she's looking at him like that.

"Have you been ill?" he blurts out. Picking just one of the numerous stray thoughts currently swirling around his head.

She frowns up at him, shifting the basket in her arms, "No."

"Well, good then," he nods, like that explained something.

Her frown deepens, "Are you okay?" she asks, reaching out a hand unconsciously to brush his arm. "Merlin says you've been behaving strangely since…" she raises her eyebrows, "and Morgana, well Morgana's pretty sure you've lost all the sense you were beginning to show you had the possibility of attaining." She finishes her eyes glancing away from his and her hand falling back to her side.

"I'm sure you cleaned it up a little. Morgana's never been one to censure herself when it came to her opinions on my good judgment," he says dryly.

"Maybe a little," Gwen admits, her head sort of bobbing good-humouredly.

"I'm sorry," he says abruptly. Her head whips around so fast he thinks that it probably hurt.

She squints at him, evidently having no idea what he's talking about and tilts her head to the side, "For?"

"Well, you've been avoiding me," he accuses, "So doesn't that mean I have something to apologise for?"

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hair and her mouth forms a little 'o' of surprise. Now she gets it.

"Sire-"

"So I'm-"

"Si-" she tries again.

"Guineve-" he says over the top of her.

"Arthur," Gwen interrupts sharply. She exhales a frustrated breath and looks up at him in exasperation, "Just stop for a moment. You have nothing to apologise for."

"But you-"

"Have been busy," she supplies and then rolls her eyes, "I haven't been avoiding anyone, I promise."

He looks at her sternly, "You've been busy," he echoes, testing it out.

"Yes, very busy," she assents. She sighs and looks over his shoulder, "Did you not think to ask Morgana where I was? If you had so dearly wished to know surely that would have been logical," she adds her tone light, purposely. They both know her absence shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did.

"Morgana's not speaking to me," he acknowledges, although that isn't what stopped him from trying that – what stopped him was the self-preservation. If Morgana ever suspected that he…and Gwen…that was just the worst thing he could imagine. Morgana could be cruel. She'd tell Gwen all sorts of nasty made up things about him, like the time he allegedly put custard in her shoes. And that was ages ago, months even. But he knows she hasn't let it go, she never lets anything go. He's pretty sure she has a list of everything he's possibly – but she can't prove it because he's much to clever to get caught - done to her and this would be just the time for her to bring it out. Inflict some damage.

"Oh," Gwen murmurs, but less as a reply to his statement and more in a 'I just realised why Morgana's not speaking to you and how it ties into this conversation' kind of way. "Oh," she says again and grimaces, "right."

"It's not my fault!" he protests, despite the fact that it's becoming clearer and clearer that it is.

"And will she get an apology?" Gwen asks teasingly.

"No."

"But you can see why she's angry?"

He sniffs, "She's being overly sensitive."

"Pot meet kettle," he hears her mutter under her breath as she shakes her head gently.

"Guinevere," he says deciding to start this conversation over again.

"Sire?" she says, playing along. Always a team player is Guinevere.

"You haven't been poorly?" he asks offhandly.

"Why no, Sire," she replies with faint surprise, a small hand fluttering to her chest. Her head inclines towards him, "And may I inquire about your health"

"Fighting fit," he assures, trying to hold a bored expression. "That unpleasantness from last week?"

"Already forgotten, my lord," she smiles politely. Easily mimicking the forced looks of politeness he's been receiving from everyone socially below him. Therefore everyone in Camelot. Except Merlin (who has become immune to his glares) and his father. Because his father sure as hell isn't going to pretend nothing happened and Arthur feels that it might have a little something to do with his teasing about the troll. Note to self, cut back on the teasing. But no one ever really forgets when you almost cause a war because you've been enchanted into some wooing frenzy and your friends have to tackle you to the ground in order to save you from yourself. No one ever really forgets because they're not trying hard enough. Not like him, now he only considers it a few times a day…every hour.

"That's much better," he says, allowing a small, pleased smile to settle on his face. Gwen grins back.

"Much better," she repeats.


He's about to say something clever. What, he's not quite sure…and neither of them gets to find out because suddenly Morgana's yelling at him as she walks towards them.

"Arthur, leave poor Gwen alone. She's much too important to put up with your nonsense!"

Just when he thinks he has things under control.

Gwen peeks around him at her mistress, amusement flickering in her eyes, she looks back at him to find his eyes rolled back in his head and giggles softly. It draws his attention back to her and she shakes her head warningly.

Gwen steps around him and stops at his side, facing the interloper. Morgana is getting more annoying then Merlin. And that is quite a feat.

"My lady," Gwen greets with a warm smile, "Arthur was just offering to walk me to the market."

Morgana looks at Gwen shrewdly and finding no sign of anything suspicious turns to regard Arthur, "Is that true?"

He turns around so he's completely facing her now and looks down at her over Gwen's shoulder, "Is it so hard to imagine I could be thoughtful?"

"Yes," Morgana answers quickly and looks seriously back at Gwen, "Blink twice if he's holding you hostage," she instructs.

Gwen snorts, while Arthur looks at his foster sister indignantly.

"Morgana," Gwen scolds and bites her lip. Morgana smiles recognising a mischievous flicker in Gwen's eyes. "You know very well he has a history of being beaten by women in combat, if I didn't-"

"One woman," Arthur interjects, sullenly.

"If I didn't want-" Gwen continues.

"Wait, are you saying you could beat me?" Arthur says, interrupting again.

"Well, she's right. There is a precedent," Morgana grins. He narrows his eyes at her. That right there is the kind of behaviour that leads to custard filled shoes. He's opening his mouth to say something threatening when Gwen's elbow gently presses into his side. Well, fine then, he can do civil. At least for a short time.

"We should really get going, before they sell all the strawberries," Gwen says, apologetically. "Was there something you needed me for?"

Morgana arches an eyebrow and sighs, "No, it can wait." She turns her gaze to glare at Arthur, "I'll see you later," turning to leave and adds in a softer tone, "Bye Gwen, good luck with the strawberries." Arthur and Gwen watch her go.


"Strawberries," Arthur mutters and his eyes fall to the covered basket in Gwen's arms.

She turns and looks at him astutely, pulling the basket closer to her body, "They're not for you."

"But we're going to get more," he protests.

Gwen's expression clearly brands him an idiot as she her brow crinkles bemusedly. "No-" she begins to argue.

"Well, then you lied," he points out. "And you told me you weren't a liar," he reminds sweetly.

She leans closer to him, clearly trying to determine a way to condone lying.

He chuckles victoriously when she fails and huffs down the stairs back towards the village. When he falls into step beside her she pushes the basket into his arms, refusing to look at him. Obviously still smarting from the loss. Who's too proud now? He pops a few strawberries into his mouth, savouring the sweet taste of victory. He's on his eighth strawberry when she stops dead and finally looks at him. He'd like to think she's ready to admit defeat. But apparently it's disgust, because she reaches into his pocket and withdraws his hanky and waves it at him. It looks like a white flag. He grins.

"Could you at least wipe the juice off before we get to the market?" She's so envious.

He makes no move to grab the handkerchief and instead licks around his mouth at the juice. "Better?" he asks reaching for another strawberry. Gwen makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat.

He notices her quickly glance around before pouncing on him, cleaning him up as if he were some overgrown child. He tries to fight her off of course and it's not that she's quicker or anything…if anything he allows her to do it because he's very wary of hurting her feelings. He's a sensitive guy. When she decides that he's as tidy as she can make him she steps back, with the basket. No more strawberries for him apparently. He'd argue or hell he could command her to give them back but it doesn't seem like a good time. And it is just strawberries.

They continue walking.


"Guinevere?"

"Sire?"

"Have you been unwell?"

Gwen stops a few feet from the market street and looks up at him dryly. "Will this basket of strawberries buy your silence?" she asks, holding it up.

Arthur grins at her and takes a moment to ponder. He never tires of winning.

Gwen reaches into the basket and pops a strawberry into her mouth; it's quickly followed by another, and another while he gapes at her in horror. His strawberries!

He snatches the basket from her, "Done." He cradles the basket in his arms and pouts at her. "That was uncalled for."

"Eat them with a little more care this time," she advises, "I don't want to spend the whole day down here watching you eat strawberries, half of them dribbling down your chin."

"That's hurtful."

"That's honest."

He breaks his replying glare to smirk down at her as he reaches for yet another strawberry, "I'm having fun."

"I know you are," she says, softly. They step into the street where his reply is lost in the sounds of the market.

"I missed you."

But she knows, she has to know.


So, I've just reread that and it's blatantly OOC for both of them and I know EXACTLY who I think they're channeling and it's very annoying because I've been struggling to write for that particular series and failed mostly while I've been able to write Merlin.....and now it's switching back! Arg!

So, I'm sorry guys. Hope it was a good read anyway. I don't know how I got onto strawberries. I just kept drifting with the characters. They made me do it.

Sorry if there's any grammatical mix ups I kept changing tenses...which was also fairly annoying. Is it tomorrow yet? I want the frustration to wash away.