I'd hoped to cover Gwaine and Freya's wedding in this chapter, but it was getting too long, so I had to cut it off. What I ended up with is a chapter almost entirely devoted to the beta couples, although there's some Mergana too - and of course our favorite creepy kid makes an appearance.
"May I walk with you?"
Elena blinked in surprise. When everyone went their separate ways after dinner, she'd expected Gwen to seize the opportunity to slip away with Arthur and didn't know why the female knight had sought out her company instead. "Certainly. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I couldn't help noticing that you seemed a bit preoccupied during dinner, like you had something other than tomorrow's festivities on your mind - or someone. A certain knight, perhaps?"
"Was I really that obvious?" Elena asked sheepishly, suddenly feeling like the awkward, clumsy girl she used to be - which, she had learned from her correspondence with Lancelot over the last five years, was because she had been possessed by a sidhe for most of her life - instead of the graceful and refined (though still more adventurous than was entirely proper) princess she became after Merlin freed her.
Gwen smiled kindly at her. "My closest friend is a seer, and she shares most of her visions with me."
"So that's why Morgana invited me? She knew my intentions?" At Gwen's nod, Elena asked, "And did she tell him? Is that why I haven't seen him, because he's avoiding me?"
"Of course not; the king sent some knights out to sweep the forests for bandits - he does that every few months, you know, and he decided now was a good time for it since the outlaws will expect us to be celebrating our comrade's wedding, not hunting for them - and Lancelot volunteered. He should be back tonight, though, so there'll be plenty of time for you to speak with him. Morgana and I both wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, Gwen."
"Thank you, princess. I'm glad Lancelot has found someone who can give him the love he deserves." Gwen watched happily as Elena set off to find her knight, until a sudden awareness of someone stealthily approaching her from behind interrupted her reverie. She glanced over her shoulder, her smile widening when she saw Arthur there. "Surely you didn't think you could sneak up on a knight of Dagon, sire?"
"Just checking," he replied with a playful grin, which grew more serious as he came closer. "I've missed you, Guinevere. These past years have been hard, only seeing your face in a crystal, never being able to touch you…" He reached out to caress her cheek, hardly able to believe that after being deprived of physical contact for so long, she was finally standing here before him, in the flesh.
"It's been hard for me too. I know Merlin and Morgana were trying to help when they gave us those crystals, but sometimes I think it's worse that way, seeing you and talking to you when we're still so far apart. Then I think of what it would be like if we couldn't speak at all, if all we had were letters, and I'm so grateful for what we do have."
Arthur nodded his agreement. "Still, there've been days – usually when the lords are being especially ornery – when it was all I could do not to ask you to come back to Camelot and marry me tomorrow."
Gwen gave him a sympathetic half-smile; as much as she had missed Arthur, at least she had her friends. Arthur was alone in Camelot except for Leon and Gaius, and his uncle, though Gwen wasn't terribly fond of Lord Agravaine. She wished she could be there with him, but she reminded herself that there was a good reason for their separation. "If you think the lords are being stubborn about the changes you're trying to make, having me at your side would only make them dig their heels in more."
"You're right," Arthur sighed. "I doubt I'll be able to make them accept us until I'm king…but they're hundreds of miles away right now, so let's not waste any more time talking about them. We only have a few days together, and I want to make the most of them." Drawing her close, he kissed her like he was desperate to get his fill of her before they were forced to part again, even though he knew that was impossible. Even if their hopes came to fruition and they eventually married, and he could kiss her as often as he wanted, he would still never get enough.
They were both breathing hard when she finally pulled away. "As much as I want to, we can't do this in the middle of a corridor. Come with me – I know places where we won't be disturbed."
Taking him by the hand, she led him into one of the many secret passages Merlin had shown her; then she kissed him, for once not worrying that they would be seen, and tried her best to forget that he was prince regent of one of Albion's most powerful kingdoms and she was a blacksmith's daughter. For now, they were just Arthur and Gwen, equals in every way.
###
Returning to the castle at the hour when most people were finishing their evening meal, Lancelot took it upon himself to get the knights' horses settled in their stalls; he didn't want to go inside just yet, and this gave him an excuse to be alone a little while longer. He had hoped their mission would keep them in the outlying villages for another day or two, but the other members of his patrol had been even more efficient than usual. He couldn't blame them for wanting to hurry back – after all, most people enjoyed weddings, and it wasn't fair that they should miss all the fun just because he wasn't in a celebratory mood.
"Lancelot?"
He looked up at the sound of a woman's voice calling his name, and promptly dropped the currycomb he'd been using. Elena stood outside his horse's stall, looking even lovelier than he remembered in a blue silk gown accented with white lace at the neckline and sleeves, her golden hair shining in the moonlight. "Princess? What… What brings you here?"
"I came for the wedding, of course. Morgana invited me personally."
"That sounds like the sort of scheme she'd cook up," Lancelot said wryly. "I'm surprised you accepted her invitation, though."
"Well, what was I supposed to do when you stopped answering my letters?" Elena demanded, giving him a wounded look.
Lancelot sighed. "I'm sorry, princess, that was most discourteous of me. I never meant to hurt you, but what else could I have done? Circumstances have changed, and our friendship-"
"Friendship? I was under the impression that what we had was something more than friendship, Lancelot! Or is that all it ever was to you?" she asked in a much smaller voice.
"It doesn't matter what my feelings may have been. Your father has decreed that it's time for you to marry, and I doubt your future husband will approve of you being on such intimate terms with another man." Even if Elena's hypothetical bridegroom-to-be wouldn't mind, Lancelot didn't think he could bear hearing about her life as a married woman, as she learned to love the man her father chose for her and gradually forgot whatever feelings she might have had for him.
"You're right, no man wants a wife who has feelings for someone else." She struck a thoughtful pose, leaning on the waist-high partition that formed the front wall of the stalls with her chin in her hand, and appeared to ponder the problem. "Guess I'll just have to marry you, then."
"Be serious, please," Lancelot scoffed, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped when she said that.
"I'm perfectly serious," she assured him, and Lancelot believed her; she certainly sounded sincere.
He wished she wasn't - he didn't want to see her hopes crushed, and knowing that she truly loved him, that she really would marry him if she could, only made the pain of losing her worse. "Your father would never approve. I'm a commoner, princess, and while King Balinor may have been willing to overlook that, Lord Godwyn is hardly going to think I'm a fit husband for his daughter just because I can swing a sword!"
"You are more than just some commoner who can swing a sword!" Elena snapped. "You are a brave man who survived the destruction of your home and raised yourself up from nothing! Now you lead Dagon's army and are a close friend of its future king, and of Arthur as well. My father appreciates the value of connections like yours; more importantly, he wants me to be happy, and he knows no one makes me happier than you do."
"Do you mean," Lancelot said slowly, hardly daring to believe they were actually treating this as a real possibility, "there's really a chance-? But surely Lord Godwyn has already promised you to some prince?"
"It's true that Father and King Uther once considered a match between me and Arthur, but before we set out for Dagon Arthur explained to Father that he intends to marry someone else, and that it would only strengthen our alliance with Camelot if I married a man he holds in such high regard - especially one with such a prominent position in a kingdom that's already united with Camelot through Merlin and Morgana's marriage. After that, Father said I could marry you with his blessing - provided that you and King Balinor agree, of course."
She looked expectantly at him, but he was still struggling to process what he'd just heard. Over the past five years, he had slowly fallen for her while fighting his feelings every step of the way, knowing as surely as he knew his own name that they could never be together, that he would never be worthy of her; then, when he got the news that her father had decided he couldn't put off making a suitable match for his only daughter any longer, he immediately began the painful process of mentally detaching himself from her, cutting off all communication with her and thinking of her only in formal terms instead of the more familiar forms of address she had encouraged him to use, resigning himself, yet again, to losing the woman he loved. After all the times he had told himself that this was the way of the world, that there could be no other ending in store for them, this sudden reversal of his fortune was almost more than he could comprehend.
Finally, he managed to stammer out, "I- I don't know what to say, princess."
"Say yes. Be my husband and my king. And no more of this 'princess' business," she ordered with a playful toss of her head. "That's no way to talk to your fiancée, is it, Sir Lancelot?"
"No - I mean yes. Of course my answer is yes, Elena..." He hesitated for the briefest of seconds before adding the one epithet he had never dared apply to her before, even in his head. "...My love."
That was all she needed to hear. Reaching over the half-door of his horse's stall, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him at last. That was the moment that truly convinced Lancelot he wasn't dreaming, because this was better than anything he could have imagined (not that he'd ever let himself imagine kissing Elena in the first place). It was even better than the handful of kisses he'd shared with Gwen, who had always been rather hesitant and reserved, as if her heart wasn't really in it. Elena didn't hesitate at all as she twined her fingers in his hair and eagerly molded her lips to his, leaving no doubt in his mind that this was exactly what she wanted.
"I'm glad that's settled," she said when they finally broke apart, once more acting like a prim and proper princess, as if she hadn't almost pulled him over the wooden barrier that stood between them a moment ago.
"Well, not quite. We still need to speak with the king about releasing me from his service."
Elena smiled delightedly - he didn't seem nearly as upset about giving up his treasured position as Dagon's head knight as she had expected, which she took as a sign that he must really love her - and leaned in for one more kiss. "Yes, but I suppose we should wait until the wedding's over. We wouldn't want to steal Gwaine and Freya's moment."
###
The next morning dawned clear and bright - perfect conditions, especially since Freya had decided to hold the ceremony outdoors instead of in the traditional setting, the great hall. She did, however, keep to the tradition of getting ready with the help of her friends, Gwen, Sefa, and Elena.
Morgana was supposed to join them too, but just as she was about to leave hers and Merlin's chambers, she got sidetracked when she saw what her husband was wearing. "Really, Merlin, out of everything in your wardrobe, you chose that?"
"What's wrong with my clothes? They're nicer than the ones I normally wear."
"Yes, but they're all black. We're going to a wedding, not a funeral."
"So? I like black, and it's easier to get dressed when everything's the same color."
Morgana just shook her head and started rummaging through the drawers where he kept his things in search of something more suitable. "Why don't you wear the plum-colored shirt I bought for you? And take off that scarf, it's a bit too casual."
"I don't want to wear that shirt," Merlin protested. "I look ridiculous in purple."
"Didn't I just say it's plum, not purple?" Morgana asked, exasperated. "Honestly, sometimes you're as bad as Will..." Her voice trailed off as his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her away from the wardrobe.
"Maybe, but you love me anyway."
Morgana let out a sigh that was as much vexation as pleasure when he started kissing her neck; she knew exactly what he was up to, since they both made frequent use of diversionary tactics like this during disagreements (and after five years of marriage, they'd had a few) whenever the topic under debate was trivial enough not to require serious discussion. She supposed the question of what Merlin wore fell into that category, but she wouldn't be put off so easily; she was not going to let him attend their friends' wedding dressed like the Grim Reaper. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his attempts to distract her for a minute or two before setting him straight.
"Yes, I do," she said at length as she turned around to face him, gently extricating herself from his hold, "but I'll love you even more when you change your clothes."
"I'm not putting on that purple shirt," Merlin declared, folding his arms stubbornly over his chest. "Absolutely not. No way."
###
Twenty minutes later, the royal couple made their way downstairs to join the guests clustered near the palace's front entrance. Merlin's scarf was gone, and he was wearing his new shirt and a disgruntled expression; Morgana, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with herself, although her smile faltered when she spied Mordred skulking nearby, eyeing the brightly dressed crowd curiously. What is he doing here?
He's probably feeling left out. Why don't we invite him to join the party? I'm sure Gwaine and Freya won't mind. His wife kept her face impassive, but the sudden downturn in her emotions told Merlin what she thought of that idea. Come on, Morgana - I won't deny that he shares more of Morgause's views than I'd like, but I think there's still hope for him.
Morgana shook her head and took a few steps back. Invite him if you wish; I'm sure he'll accept more readily if it comes from you. I don't think he likes me very much.
Morgana-
I'm sorry, Merlin - I know I promised to give him a chance, but I'd like to enjoy the celebration, and I don't think I will if I have to spend it with him. Cutting off their mental communication before he had a chance to say anything else, she went off to find Gwen.
Because this is only half of what I intended to write for this chapter, I'm going to get right to work on the second half instead of updating all my other stories first like I usually would. I still have six more weeks of school, though, and my professors seem to be doing their best to work me to death before I escape for the summer, so it might still be a while before I'm able to write the next installment. As always, your patience is appreciated.
For those of you who like visual aids to go along with what you're reading, here's what Elena's blue dress looks like:
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Also, last time I tried to including a link it was brought to my attention that you can't copy and paste stuff from stories, so for your convenience I will also post this on my profile, where you can copy it.