The days passed in a whirlwind. Once the royal wedding was announced, the city erupted into a frenzy of preparations. It seemed that food enough to feed the whole kingdom had arrived for the various feasts, while enough roses to drown Camelot in a sea of red, pink, and white petals sprouted overnight. And no one, not even the nobleborn wags decrying Arthur's raising a commoner to Queen, was going to be absent for the celebration, prompting everyone with a drop of noble blood to refurbish their wardrobes. It wouldn't do to have a thread out of place, after all, when the finest citizens in the realm were gathering to witness the crowning of Camelot's first Queen in twenty-five years.
Some were gathering to see if Guinevere, the Commoner-Queen, as she had been dubbed by some highbrow gossips, would crack under the strain and make a fool of herself. A few duels had already been fought in Guinevere's name. Gwaine had broken one man's nose. Lancelot shattered another's arm. After that, the jibes were quieter. Merlin heard them all the same, but let them pass. They didn't know what threads of steel bound Guinevere's bones together. If they did, they would take care to keep their tongues behind their teeth.
His own role, by choice, in the festivities was almost non-existent. Arthur had asked, then Guinevere had, if he wanted some part in the ceremony. He had waved if off, 'The people have had enough changes in the past year. A sorcerer serving in the King's wedding party might be more than they can handle." It was best to let Arthur and Guinevere have their day in the sun, and keep the shadows out of sight for a time.
Finally, after what felt to Merlin like endless rounds of jousts and tournaments, fittings for a new suit of clothes, pre-wedding rites and minor celebrations, Midsummer's Day dawned without a cloud in the sky. Even the birds sounded excited. Merlin rose with the sun and donned the new clothes, submitting to Gaius's fussing for once, letting the old physician fasten the buttons on the sleeves.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Gaius fretted, though Merlin thought his unease had more to do with wedding formalities and the accompanying legal niceties than any doubt about Merlin's abilities to find breakfast and make his way to the great hall.
"I'll be fine, Gaius. If the worst that happens today is my being thwarted by some buttons, I think we can call it a success." There was a flicker of doubt- or worry- in the physcian's demeanor. Merlin rested a hand on his shoulder. "If anything monumental was going to go wrong today, I think I would have Seen something. Lord Pynell is too shrewd to be so obvious, and I haven't heard a whisper out of Morgana in months."
"That's what worries me," Gaius sighed, "I should be going. The council will be meeting with Arthur soon. There's so much to do before the noon bell rings. Really, sometimes it seems like there are far too many rituals that go along with a royal wedding. Countryside weddings are brief, filled with as much joy, and with much less fuss involved." He shook his head and gathered his things. "When you get married, Merlin, promise me that you won't put me through so much fuss as this. I'm not getting any younger."
"Oh, don't worry, Gaius," he said without thinking, almost as though he wasn't the one speaking at all, "I never will get married." He stopped, thought back on what he'd just said. "I will never marry," he said. The words held the ring of truth in them. And a little of prophecy. His smile faded.
"Merlin," Gaius touched his arm, hesitantly. "Prophecy doesn't always mean what you think it does. You're very young still, though sometimes you don't think so. You have a long time ahead of you to find someone."
Merlin gave him a wry smile. "I appreciate your trying to cheer me up, but some things I just know. And anyway. Today is not for me. Not at all. You have things to see to. You should go and see to them. I'll be along after a while."
"Are you sure, Merlin? I can stay if-"
"I will be fine." Merlin put his hands on the physician's shoulders and turned him about, giving him a gentle push toward the door. "You have things to do this morning. Arthur's nervous enough. If the ceremony is delayed a moment longer than it needs to be, I think he'll faint in front of everyone, and then where will we be?"
Gaius sighed and looked back at him. "Nowhere good. Very well, then. I will see you after the ceremony?"
"Of course. Now go." Merlin kept the smile on his face until Gaius closed the door behind him, then dropped onto the nearest chair. He rubbed his eyes and let himself indulge in that old, wild imagining of the life he might have had with Freya. A life where they had broken the curse that lay upon her and fled to some far away place- Éire perhaps, or the lands beyond Brittany- where they would have had a little house beside a mountain lake, and no one bothered them. A life lived on their own terms. "But if that had come to pass, Arthur would be dead, Camelot a ruin, and Albion might be a land of ashes."
Merlin sighed and pushed away the old dream. He stepped toward the window, imagining he could see the morning sunlight and soaked in its warmth for a while. "Well," he said to the air, "There's no sense in standing around moping. This is a supposed to be a happy day. Time to go and be happy."
The halls were alive with servants and nobles alike, each rushing to one appointment or another, desperate to finish their tasks before the appointed hour. Merlin dodged them all, unruffled by the commotion. Once, he would have been one of those racing around, but not now. 'That's a nice feeling. Not to be in a hurry for once." The smile hadn't left his face when he reached Drusilla's chambers where Guinevere was preparing for the day. He knocked on the door. Moments later, someone answered. A young woman with an air of sweetness and rosebuds about her. Elaine. "Good morning, Lady Elaine. How is she?"
"Good morning, Merlin," the girl's breathy voice betrayed her excitement, "Nervous enough she couldn't eat anything this morning, but oh!" she giggled, "She's beautiful!"
"I didn't expect anything less. May I see her?"
"I'll ask." The door clicked shut again, but Elaine wasn't gone for long before she returned and ushered him in. "It's not traditional, to let anyone see the bride before, but," she must have shrugged, "I suppose it's not the most traditional of royal weddings. My Lady, Merlin is here to see you."
"Oh, Elaine, I'm not a Lady yet," Guinevere said, her voice colored with anxiety and the faintest bit of reproach. Not that it was going to quell Elaine's bright spirits. They were shining today- she, and Drusilla- but none of them moreso than the bride. "Merlin," Guinevere said, the rustle of silk skirts marking her movement, "What are you doing here? It's bad luck to see the bride before her wedding."
He held his hands toward her, his smile widening when she took them and her anxious trembling stilled. "But I can't see you. Not in the way that tradition states, so there's no bad luck to be had." He looked toward the windows. Outside, the city bells rang to mark the hour of Sext. The wedding would begin in a few hours, when the sun had risen to noon. "It's not long now. How are you?"
"I can't decide if I'm the happiest I've ever been, or if I'm just going to be sick." Her hands tightened on his. "I'm a bit terrified, too. What if I trip, or say the words wrong? What if I start crying? What if everyone laughs at me? Right now, I feel like a bumbling servant trying her mistresses clothes on while she's not at home. I don't feel like I belong in this." She brushed a hand over her skirt, setting beads and pearls to rattling faintly.
"Gwen. Queen Guinevere. This is the place you were always meant to have, at Arthur's side, as his queen. I've known that for a long time. It was only a matter of when. We all have our parts to play in this. . . this story of ours. But this was always meant to be your role," Merlin said.
"And you've always known that?" Guinevere asked, a note of wonder replacing some of the fear in her voice.
"Not always," he said, "But for a long time, now. And your names will live long in the hearts of men." Prophecy rang in his words for a moment, then slipped away.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I know you." Merlin took both her hands again and smiled. Then he lowered himself to one knee, bowed his head, and kissed the back of her hand. "My Queen."
Guinevere gasped, "Merlin. . . "
"I was the first to kneel to my King, and now I am the first to kneel to my Queen. I wouldn't have it any other way." He squeezed her fingers and laughed.
"What?"
"Oh, just remembering something you said once, a long time ago. You asked me, 'Who would want to marry Arthur?' Did you ever imagine, then, that it would be you?"
Guinevere laughed, then, and the tension flowed away. "Not in my wildest dreams. He was. . . such a child then. You were good for him, Merlin. You helped make him the man he is today. Look at us, getting all sentimental. And speaking of sentiment," she pulled him to his feet and rustled away, returning a moment later to press a small box into his hands, "This, well, it's from both of us, really, but you know how Arthur is about sentiment. Go on, open it."
"You're the one who's supposed to be receiving the gifts today," He raised an eyebrow, but did as he was bid. Inside the box lay a thin chain with a pendant inlaid with a winding design his fingers couldn't quite map out. "What is it?"
"The Tree of Life. Arthur found it in your book and asked Gaius what it was, and Gaius said it was a symbol of the Old Religion, but not one used by the High Priestesses, and they both thought it would suit you when I suggested the pendant, and . . . " Her rushing words trailed to a halt. "Do you like it?"
"I will never take it off. I'm just not sure about the clasp," he admitted.
"That's easily fixed. Here. Turn around." She set the slender chain around his throat, setting the clasp so the pendant hung just below his collarbone, then fussed with his collar so it would sit just so. "There. I think that will work."
"Thank you." He brushed his fingers over the pendant. It felt almost warm, as though it glowed from within. "Wait," his brow knit, "You said Arthur saw the drawing in my book? Do you have it, then?"
"Yes. Well, Arthur does. Why?"
"I thought it had been lost. I- I didn't even think to ask about it, after . . . "
"You didn't really think he'd toss it away, did you?" Guinevere asked gently.
"I don't know. No, I suppose not. But . . . I can't read or write, and trying to explain it all to a scribe," he spread his hands wide, trying to convey just how hopeless a problem it seemed. "Well, it sounded like an exercise in futility. I didn't even think to ask about it."
"I can write, you know. And everyone says I have a very fine hand. One of these days, we'll pick up where you left off, all right?" She took his hands again, her slender fingers warm against his.
"All right," he smiled again.
"My Lady," Drusilla spoke up from the corner where she'd been trying to be unobtrusive, "We still have preparations to make before your brother arrives, and we've not not much time."
"Of course. I'm sorry. I don't mean to chase you away, Merlin, but-"
"Duty calls," Merlin said. "I understand. I should see to Arthur, anyway. Make sure he doesn't faint or put his clothes on backward." He got the laugh he was looking for. He turned to go and paused at the doorway, looking back one more time, letting his inner eye take in the image of the brilliant woman where she stood in a pool of light. To the law, she was not Queen yet, but to Destiny? To Destiny- and to Merlin- the radiance of a Queen already burned within.