AN: Hello readers! Here's chapter 12. A lot happens in this, I hope you can keep up. Enjoy and review! :D
Merlin.
September 20th. It's 3 days before Arthur's wedding, and it's also the day of his bachelor party. I tried stopping him from going through with this, the wedding, but he won't listen to me. His relationship with his father is better, but it's all a sham. Arthur's not happy, and if Uther actually bothered to look at his son, he'd realise that. Arthur's putting on a brave face, pretending not to hear me each time I mention Guinevere's name, ignoring me when I tell him that I see her whilst visiting Morgana. He's decided to pretend she doesn't exist. He thinks I don't notice him staring into space every once in a while, obviously thinking about her, craving her. He doesn't know I hear him crying in the bathroom every other morning. Arthur's a mess, and nothing I say or do will change that. It pains me to see him like that. It will pain me to see him like that every day of his life.
Vivian? Well, Vivian is really living up to the bride-to-be role, the pet names are back and Arthur's now gone back to being referred to as'Artie-Pie', she insists that he calls her'Vivi-cakes' but he only ever seems to manage 'Viv'. Close enough, I guess.
"We need to stop at the pub." Arthur's says to me, as we enter my car. We're about to make our way to his bachelor party venue.
"Why?"
"We're meeting Gwaine there, he's already half drunk and can't drive." Arthur replies casually, as he clicks his seatbelt into place.
"Okay." I reply, staring at Arthur. He smiles at me; it's a pretty convincing smile. I almost believe it.
"Don't expect this party to be wild; we have to catch our flight to Hawaii tomorrow." I continue, as I put the car into ignition.
"Well, I think Gwaine might have something to say about that." Arthur laughs, prompting me to laugh as we make our way down to the pub. It's like old times.
Morgana
"Don't you think it's a bit weird me going to Arthur's bachelor party?" I say to Gwen, as I walk into her room, wearing my 5th potential outfit.
"A little." She replies nonchalantly, her eyes fully fixed on the 2 month old Heat magazine that often magically appears in her hand whenever I mention Arthur's name.
"I mean, I'll probably be the only girl there." I continue, attempting to provoke some sort of reaction from her.
"Probably..."
"Well, that's a lie. Vivian's going to be there." I add, as Gwen finally looks up to admire at my outfit.
"Vivain? She's going to the bachelor party? Now, that's weird." Gwen replies, as she scans me from head to toe, before giving the thumbs up. I smile at her.
"Yep, it's mostly due to lack of trust. I mean, can you blame her? Arthur's hardly known for his self-control, is he?"
"True..." Gwen quickly reverts back to'pretend I'm reading Heat magazine' mode.
"I think you should come." I quickly add.
"I think you're insane."
"Gwen, listen."
"No. No. No. No. I am only going to the wedding, that is my moving on strategy. Getting drunk with his fiancée will not help me move on. Vivian will attack me." Gwen replies, finally dropping the magazine.
"No, no she won't. She won't want to look like a bunny boiler, and anyway. She'll probably spend most of the night snogging Arthur." Guinevere frowns at my remark. Her feelings for Arthur are still evident.
"I'm not coming Morgana."
"Please."
"No."
"If you don't come, I'll have to spend my night with a bunch of rowdy men." I say, pouting dramatically.
"Sounds exactly like your scene." Gwen replies dryly.
"Please?"
"No."
"Gwen, think about it like this. You might meet someone new."
"I broke Lancelot's heart about a couple of weeks ago, it wouldn't be very tactile of me to rush into another relationship, would it?" Gwen says, rolling her eyes.
"You've never been all that tactile." I snap back.
"Morgana?"
"Yes."
"I am not coming."
"It'll help you move on, I promise. I know you're not fully over Arthur, I don't expect you to be. He acted like a complete tool, but, hiding away-"
"I'm not hiding away; I'll come to the wedding." Gwen interrupts me.
"No one will notice you at the wedding. Half of celebrity land will be there."
"Thanks." Gwen says sarcastically."
"What I mean is, this is a chance for you to show everyone that the whole Arthur/Gwen fiasco is over. Done. Prove to everyone that it was just a silly mistake. It'll also make Arthur feel like a buffoon. Which is an added bonus, you must admit." I say, nudging Gwen's shoulder as I sit next to her on the bed. She laughs at me.
"So... You'll come?"
"If this goes wrong..."
"It won't, Gwen. It'll be good for you, I promise."
Merlin
"Merlin, where's Vivian?" Arthur asks, feigning interest.
"Vivian? I have no idea; I haven't seen her since she arrived." Arthur shrugs, as he makes his way to he bar.
We're at his bachelor party now, and well, he's still pretty depressed. He puts on his happy face in front of the others, but I can see he's still not happy. The party isn't all that wild either, partly due to Vivian's major interference and partly because Arthur just doesn't really care. Uther tried to make it this big extravaganza, and it looks it, but it doesn't feel like it. You know how some people say marriage is pretty much the end of your life? Well, that's what this bachelor party seems to signify. You'd think Arthur was at his own funeral.
Arthur.
"Can I have a glass of champagne?" I say to the staff behind the bar, as I begin scanning the club. Tacky would be the appropriate word to describe it. I've always hated helium balloons. I kick one near me, watching as it deflates, before falling to the floor. I smile to myself.
"I'm afraid we're all out of Champagne. There's some at the back, I could get one for you?" The barman offers.
"No, it's fine. I'll get it myself. Don't stress yourself." I say smiling, as I begin making my way through the club, passing people I barely know. At least they're enjoying themselves.
"Where are you going?" Leon says to me, as I reach the back exit.
"Just to the stock room, need some more champagne." I reply, pushing the door open. The cold wind hits my skin as I step out out of the club. What idiot thought it would be a good idea to build the stock room separate from the club?
I begin making my way past the bins, as I finally reach the stock room door. I walk in, find a couple bottles of champagne before quickly picking them up, as I begin making my way out. I open the door slowly, and I'm a little shocked to see Vivian and Gwaine outside by the bins, I leave the door slightly ajar as I begin watching them.
Merlin.
"Morgana! You're here! And you brought Gwen!" I say, pretending to be happy about this.
"Yep. How's the party going?" Morgana says, as Gwen stands next to her, looking around awkwardly.
"Great. It's great. Arthur and Vivian seem to have disappeared, but it's great!"
"Good! Gwen, you'll be fine on your own won't you?" Morgana says to Gwen, who nods, as she links arms with me, leading me onto the dance floor.
I smile awkwardly at Gwen as I follow Morgana.
"What the hell are you thinking?" I whisper through my teeth at Morgana as we dance. I use the word dance very loosely.
"What do you mean?" Morgana replies innocently.
"Erm. Ixnay Gwen-ay." I say, my head gesturing to Gwen.
"So?"
"Morgana, do you really think that's clever?"
"I thought it would help her move on."
"Move on? How? Arthur is marrying Vivian, how is coming to his bachelor party going to help her move on?" I say, moving closer to Morgana, as she wraps her arms around my neck. We're now slow 'dancing'.
"If this doesn't bother her, she'll be able to deal with the wedding." Morgana replies, her tone still calm.
"She's coming to the wedding?"
"Yep."
"Morgana, have you completely lost it?"
"No, that was her idea. And anyway, she's got a point. Arthur's going to marry Vivian. She might as well get used to the idea. It'll help her get over her feelings for that idiot anyway."
"Arthur's not an idiot." I say, defensively.
"He slept with Gwen, and told her it meant nothing. He made her feel dirty-"
"He didn't mean that." I interrupt her.
"Oh, spare me." Morgana rolls her eyes, as I spin her around, before pulling her close to me again.
"No really, he loves Gwen. He does. He's just marrying Vivian to please his father." I insist.
"You really expect me to believe that?" Morgana says, frowning.
"Yes, because it's the truth. He's miserable, he's practically craving Gwen. He's just going on with the marriage because he feels it's his duty. To his father, to Vivian, and to his child." Morgana stares at me, a look of disbelief on her face. She turns to stare at Gwen, whose now sitting down, drinking from a glass, awkwardly, as she plays with her hair. Morgana smiles sadly.
"Poor girl. She has no idea."
Arthur.
I walk back into the club, the champagne in my hand, as I walk straight to the bar, grab the cork screw, crack open the bottle, pour some into a cup, and down it in one. I quickly pour another glass, drinking it quickly. I swallow hard, my hand shaking as, I grip the glass tightly. My anger building as I think back to what I just heard. I smash the glass on the floor, as everyone stops to stare at me, shock looks eteched on their faces. The music stops.
Merlin pulls away from Morgana, he too has a shocked look on his face. I smile wryly, my anger still intense, I smash the bottle shortly after. The crowd stare, frozen. Merlin approaches me, but I ignore him, walking on the glass, as it crumples. I make my way out, scanning the room, my breath short as I spot Guinevere. I stare at her, as my anger softens. I swallow, the tears building in my eyes. Her brown eyes meet mine, she hates me, I can tell. I open my mouth to say something as the crowd of people watch my every move. I stop myself, as I continue walking, tears falling down my face now, as I leave the club. I stop outside the pavement, my hands on my face as I begin sobbing, my back against the wall as I slide down it. I curl my body into a ball as I continue crying, frantically, my breaths short as the cold wind tenses my body.
A figure appears above me. I ignore them, hoping they'll go away, the tears still flowing. Why can't I stop crying? Stop crying Arthur. Stop. Stop. Stop it. I grab my hair in frustration as I finally look up. It's Guinevere. I look away again, ashamed. I begin wiping the tears on my face, as I laugh. I laugh, while wiping the seemingly never ending tears. Thinking about it now. It's hilarious. The whole thing, it's hysterical. I turn back to face her, watching as she crouches down next to me, her eyes on the road, as she makes herself comfortable on the pavement. I'm still crying, unable to stop.
"Arthur..." Her voice. It's wonderful. I close my eyes, as I move my body closer to hers.
"Guinevere." I manage to croak, a single tear rolling down my cheek. "Oh, Guinevere." I rest my head against the brick wall, as I look up to stare at the night sky above me, laughing.
"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft, sweet, wonderful. She turns to face me, her beautiful brown eyes locked with mine. I smile at her, still crying.
"You won't believe me if I said. You'd think I was making it up." I say, laughing shortly after. My face turns serious, as I clench my fists. "You wouldn't believe me." I say, facing her again, watching as she stares at me, her face devoid of any significant emotion.
"Try me."
"The baby's not mine."
The words fall out of my mouth. I say it, barely believing it myself. The baby isn't mine. It's not mine. The baby I've spent the past two months believing, thinking, was mine. Isn't. It's not. The baby isn't mine. That evil bitch has been lying to me for the past fucking month, making believe that baby was mine. That baby ismine. It was mine. That toxic witch. Vivian, my fiancée. She lied to me.
She lied to me.
She lied to me, just like I've been lying to her for the past 9 months. I have no right to be angry, but it hurts so bad, the pain, it cuts, it kills. And I deserve it. I deserve it, and that's what makes it so funny. That's what makes it so hilarious. That's what makes it so painfully sad. That's why it kills me, that's why it hurts, because I deserve everything I've got.
"Oh." Guinevere replies, she stares at me, her eyes also building up with tears, I smile at her as we both begin laughing. We laugh through our tears. We laugh through the painful irony.
It's much easier to see the funny side in all this.
It hurts less.
