YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME
Summary: 1500 years after the time of Camelot and Albion, Gwen is a waitress at a diner in NYC's Financial District. Every morning at 10, a certain Pendragon comes in, sits at her counter, and orders pie and coffee. An Arwen modern AU where the once and future royal couple live again. Rated M for future chapters.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or Arthur, or any of the knights. (More's the pity.) Veteran of many fandoms, but this is my first Merlin fanfic. (Be gentle!)
Rating: M
Chapter 2 – Once and Future Pie
Gwen
It had been a long day at the Liberty Cafe, but somehow, Gwen managed to make it out of her place and into the town car with a minimum of fuss.
Mr. 10 AM (no, Arthur, Arthur Pendragon as in Arthur Pendragon, CEO of Albion International, he of the burnished golden hair, fathoms-deep sapphire eyes, and pouty, smirking smile) had texted her several tantalizing times since her text message indicating that she was, indeed, free for dinner that evening.
Great! I'll send a car to your place around 7:30 pm.
Gwen had just gotten off her afternoon break when she received his first text. It made her heart beat fast.
Perhaps we could just meet at the restaurant?
She managed to send it off just as Aria managed to drop the entire platter of food she'd been carrying in a spectacular crash in the middle of the diner's floor, splattering several patrons in the process. Shoving her phone into its niche next to her purse, Gwen hurried to deflect the owner's wrath from the other waitress.
Yes, the girl was clueless. But rent being what it was in the Big Apple, Aria needed the job. Gwen was sympathetic. Her own rainy day jar had been depleted by her frequent trips to the store for baking supplies.
Necessary investment for a dream, thought Gwen. Everyone in this city has a dream.
She was busy for the rest of her shift, helping Aria and the busboy get things cleaned up, then running orders until her feet ached and she longed for a bubble bath. So she imagined herself into one, and the minutes and hours slipped away…
Yeah, that was Gwen's strategy for getting through the drudgery of waitressing. It was as her father always said. There was always an end to any dreary task… and that end would be your reward. Hard work is its own reward, her father liked to say. It makes leisure all the sweeter.
She had been soaking in her well-earned bubble bath a few hours later when her phone buzzed. Gwen had been so weary when she got off her shift that she hadn't checked it before getting on the train… indeed, she hadn't done much except zone out and use the time to transform from her "you want fries with that?" mode to thinking about her business.
This is the second time my wholesaler's run out of crème fraîche, and I really wanted to try using it instead of sour cream in my new ermine icing recipe.
That was the sort of thing Gwen typically thought about from the moment she walked out of the diner until she plunged into her bubble bath… most days, that is.
Today, instead of concentrating on the mundane details of trying to start a bakery, Gwen couldn't help but dream about her date with Arthur, which made her finally pick up the phone to see if he'd replied to her message with the name of a restaurant.
She couldn't remember feeling this excited about a man in a long time.
The messages scrolled up and down her screen the moment she unlocked her phone.
Nonsense, I insist. What's your address? was his first text, sent moments after the last she'd been able to send from work.
Then, twenty minutes later:
Never mind, I've got it. Car will be waiting for you.
Five minutes after that:
You know, there's no need to thank me so fast.
Will think of a… more appropriate way for you to thank me later.
And in another two minutes:
Guinevere? Are you getting these messages?
Are you all right?
She then had three missed calls in a row.
The last had been just moments before she checked her phone.
Gwen giggled to herself. Arthur was forward, presumptuous, and almost treading into stalker territory. But she was also loving the fact that someone had texted her other than her grocer or her little brother that day!
Picking up the phone, she dialed him. Arthur picked it up half a ring later.
"Guinevere. For a moment, I thought you'd changed your mind."
I love the way he says my name. He almost purrs it.
"Of course not. I had nothing but tables and trouble this afternoon at work, then of course there's no cell reception underground…"
"You live in the basement?"
Gwen smiled. I love the way his voice sounds in my ear, even if he seems a bit appalled that some of us mere mortals are sewer dwellers.
"Yes, Arthur, I live in a garden studio apartment, but I'm talking to you from my home. There's no cell reception on the subway."
"Right, I'd forgotten that, sorry."
He's sending a car for you and found your address in a matter of minutes, Gwen. Do you really think this man rides the subway?
"No worries," she replied brightly. "I'm soaking off the grime as we speak in a nice, warm bubble bath..." She trailed off at the sound he made (did he just groan?). "Everything all right?"
"It's fine. Just… I've never seen you in anything other than those Liberty Café t-shirts. In every color, might I add." They both laughed. "But I must say that the idea of you soaking in a bathtub right now is… quite enticing indeed."
"Well, Mr. Pendragon," she chuckled, "I look a lot different outside my work clothes."
"Oh, I'll bet you do, Guinevere." That sound again… and her name. "Care to make this a video call and show me?"
"Absolutely not!" Gwen couldn't help her giggle, which diffused the frisson of desire that shot through her veins at his words. "Bit forward to ask that of a girl you just met, isn't it?"
"Something I plan to rectify. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better tonight."
I'll just bet you are.
Me too.
All too soon, the call ended, with Arthur's assurances that his driver would bring her to their mysterious dinner location. Even though she didn't really care much for surprises, Gwen chose to go with it.
After all, it was exciting to finally go on a date where she could wear a slinky little dress and a pair of sky-high Jimmy Choo stilettos (her culinary school graduation shoes, and by far the most expensive thing she owned that wasn't baking equipment), and enjoy a night out with one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. One who had been starring in her dreams for quite a while.
But Gwen, for all her dreams, was a practical sort of girl. After all, she wasn't born yesterday, and she'd lived in New York her entire life. As she stepped out of the bath, dried off, and massaged scented L'Occitane en Provence oil into her skin, Gwen laid out her expectations for the evening.
First, a nice night on the town, courtesy of a man with cash to spare…
…followed by making out – and perhaps a little more – with that same man.
Anything beyond that? Gwen didn't expect much. To confirm her misgivings, she searched for "Arthur Pendragon" on Google. Her search confirmed what she already knew. Like any other good-looking rich guy, Arthur was totally into heiresses and socialites, models and actresses. A waitress with big dreams would be a mere dalliance for a man who seemed to have been photographed with a different cover girl on his arm each week over the past year.
There were even a few articles about Arthur's breakup the Christmas before with Mithian Nemeth, one of the most famous A-listers in young Hollywood. Gwen didn't follow celebrity gossip, but everyone knew who Mithian was. Her father, Rodor Nemeth, was the chairman and CEO of one of the world's largest petroleum companies, and her mother was descended from French, Spanish, and Monegasque royalty.
Gwen had always thought Mithian a talented actress, but as the photos scrolled across her screen, she felt inadequate.
Is she Arthur's type? I don't look a thing like her… or Vivian, or Elena, or Sophia, or any of the women he's been with in the past.
Even Arthur's own sister is exquisite. Morgana Pendragon... I remember when she was on the all the covers of the teen magazines a few years ago.
What does it even matter? This is only for one night. Spurred on by a moment, a look, a touch…
…and the coincidence of our names. Arthur and Guinevere…
Guinevere. I love the way he says it. At the café. On the phone. Guinevere, not Gwen.
Well, if I am to be a mere dalliance for Arthur, I'm going to be an affair to remember.
And I am not going to sleep with him. No matter how long it's been since Lan… since the last time.
I am worth more than that. Arthur seems nice enough, but he's probably like many men of his class. Women throw themselves at men like him. I'm not going to be one of them.
She repeated this mantra to herself as she dressed, as she put on her makeup, as she slipped on an adorable little cocktail dress she couldn't pass up from H&M, and her graduation Jimmy Choos, and as she finished her makeup and hair just as the driver called to say that he was parked outside the front door of her building.
She told herself that as she rode to her unknown destination to meet Arthur. Arthur Pendragon, CEO of Albion International…
But who would, in a sense, always be her mysterious "Mr. 10 AM" at Liberty Café.
They pulled up in front of a new high-rise very close to Central Park. Gwen rarely came to the Upper East Side these days; the last time she'd spent any amount of time here was before culinary school, when she worked as a nanny right after high school. (It was while working for the Ealdor family that she realized she'd much rather be in the kitchens than spending her days running after trust fund brats.)
Gwen realized the building was brand new, one of several condo skyscrapers only available to the wealthiest people in the world. Only two were finished, and all of them had exclusive restaurants, hotels, and shops at the lower level. She wondered where she'd be meeting Arthur…
"We've arrived, miss," the driver said, looking over his shoulder at her. He was young, with olive skin and sharp, aquiline features. "Mr. Pendragon is expecting you upstairs."
"Oh, how lovely… what's the name of the place?" Gwen adored rooftop restaurants. There was nothing quite like a room with a view.
The driver looked curiously back at her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The restaurant," Gwen explained. "I was just wondering if I've ever heard of it."
Confusion flickered in the driver's eyes. "Miss, you're going to be meeting Mr. Pendragon at his home. It's the top floor of the building."
"Oh." Gwen felt her face flush hot with embarrassment. "I… suppose we'll go to the restaurant from there. Thank you."
The door of the town car opened, and a well-dressed doorman was offering a white-gloved hand to help her out.
"Good evening, Miss Leodegrance. Mr. Pendragon is expecting you," said the doorman as she stepped onto the sidewalk.
Gwen tried to stop the little flutters in her stomach. Well, he certainly doesn't mind his staff seeing to my needs, she thought as the doorman walked ahead to open the extra tall front doors, which were made of spotless glass so clear that it was nearly invisible.
She was just about to ask the attendant to call upstairs (for really, there was no need for her to come up if they were going out) when a familiar voice sounded behind her.
"Gwen? Is it really you?"
Gwen turned around… and saw the face of a familiar friend.
"Merlin!"
The slight young man with a friendly face and piercing blue eyes greeted his old classmate with a smile.
And forgetting to be nervous, she ran into his arms for a hug.
AG – AG – AG – AG – AG
Merlin
By all the gods, little Gwen Leodegrance looked smoking hot.
Of course, Merlin had never been interested in Gwen like that, and truth be told, he couldn't afford to turn his attentions toward one of his oldest friends. Between his on-again, off-again romance with Freya, whatever was going on with him and Arthur's half-sister (damn that Morgana to all the hells that ever were), and the… strange things that had been happening to him, Arthur, and Morgana with more frequency lately, he had quite enough going on these days.
But his foster father's best friend's daughter had grown into a petite, sepia skinned bombshell with silky dark curls and curves in all the right places. It was a warm night, and the shawl Gwen was wearing did little to conceal the fact that her dress was designed to hug all her curves. In all the years he'd known her, Merlin had never seen her look like this! She was drawing the eye of every man in that fancy lobby.
He broke into a huge grin as he realized what was obviously going on. Clearly, Gwen had a new boyfriend. After everything she'd been through when that Lance bloke left her high and dry, Merlin was glad to see his buddy had nicely recovered.
"What are you doing here?" Gwen asked as they walked through the lobby after their happy, friendly greeting.
"Come to see my best friend. Got something of his that I thought I'd return." He folded his arms. "What about you? Going to check out that new restaurant and nightspot with your new bloke?"
Gwen laughed. "No, just having dinner with… with a friend." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You look great, Dr. Emrys. Freya's good for you."
"Yeah," he said vaguely, waving her off. He wasn't really in the mood to talk about his own love life, that was certain. "I could say the same for you, Gwen. This friend of yours has you glowing."
"Thanks," she said shyly, as they approached the elevator bank. "Heading up as well?"
"Yes, but there are just residences above the second floor. You can reach the restaurant best via the escalator…"
"Oh, that's all right. I'm going upstairs as well, too." Gwen glanced down at Merlin's pocket. "Whatever you've got in there seems bright… new bill clip?"
Merlin looked down. Sure enough, there was an otherworldly glow that seemed to emanated from the seam of his pants pocket…
He frowned.
"Idiot's having some kind of reaction to this heirloom ring he always wears," he said, as they stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed behind them.
"Oh?" Gwen seemed mildly interested.
"Yeah. It's likely he's developed some kind of allergy to the metal, but instead of going to the doctor, he just had to ask his chemist BFF to check it out, see if it had turned or anything. It hasn't, so I get to tell the prat there's nothing to be concerned about," he said, more confidently than he felt.
"You've always been a great friend. So how's your research going?"
"I'll tell you if you let me escort you to the door of your new friend's residence," Merlin smirked. "What floor does he live on?"
"C'mon, Mer! You and Elyan are the worst when it comes to me dating anyone!"
"Yes, and you know how terrible of a liar I am. I don't want to have to lie to your big brother next time I talk to him and he asks how you're getting on in New York… and you know he'll want to know about this guy…"
"Merlin!"
"Gwen…"
In response to his imploring tone, Gwen let out a deep breath in an annoyed puff.
"Fine. He lives on the top floor. So unless you're going to ride all the way up with me, then back down again to see your friend…"
Merlin blinked. It took him a moment to register what Gwen was saying.
"Wait. Is your new friend called Arthur, by any chance?"
Gwen's frown of recognition made his heart sink. "How did you know that?"
"Because I've known him since we were 14! He's my… Gwen, you can't possibly be heading to a date with Arthur Pendragon!"
He'd known something had been going on with his best friend! The past few times they'd hung out to watch Premier League football or just shoot the breeze, Arthur had seemed preoccupied in the way that he did whenever a new girl was on his mind. No matter what names the Pendragon heir called him, Merlin knew Arthur. He'd always been like this with girls, ever since they were kids at school and he was the captain of three of their sports teams.
But Merlin also knew that Uther's approval meant the world to Arthur. And that approval was hard earned, because Uther was a hard man.
And there was no way on this green earth that Uther Pendragon would ever approve of Gwen Leodegrance dating his only son.
Of course, Gwen didn't like what Merlin was implying.
"Why can't I date Arthur?"
Merlin's hand came up to stroke her face affectionately.
"Because I don't want to see you hurt."
Gwen shook her head. "Come on, Mer, I thought you were better than this…"
"No, you don't understand! Arthur lives in a totally different world than you and I do. His father controls his entire life. If he dates you, there is a very good chance that Uther Pendragon will disown him!"
To that, Gwen laughed.
"Oh, Merlin. You always think we're living in some kind of fairy tale! Look, I get it. Your foster dad specializes in the history of medicine. My mother was a medievalist. We grew up with parents whose heads were always in the past. But Merlin, this is the 21st century! Arthur and I are just friends. We're going to enjoy a meal, and perhaps a little more, and then we'll never see each other again."
Merlin quirked an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."
"Why not? Merlin, I am far too busy for another relationship right now. After I broke up with Lance, I lost six months of planning my bakery. And I don't know Arthur well, but…"
"What do you mean, you don't know him well?" Merlin gripped his friend's forearms. "Gwen, are you even listening to yourself?"
"What?"
"Listen, if you need money, you don't have to resort to…"
Gwen wrenched out of Merlin's arms. "Are you actually implying that I'm an escort, Merlin Emrys? Wait. Don't answer that. I don't want to think less of you than I already do."
"I'm actually not implying that. I know you and I know Arthur."
As Gwen pointedly ignored him, Merlin ran a pale hand through his dark hair, still flummoxed. Not only wasn't Gwen the type for casual relationships, Arthur was one of the rare guys he knew who didn't do casual, either. He was actually not the type who'd spend time with a girl he didn't want to get to know better.
Which was why this was so strange.
"How on earth did the two of you meet?"
"At my job."
Merlin didn't get it. "What, did you bake something for him?"
"Yes. Well, no, not exactly, it's just that… he's come into my café every weekday for the past nine months."
Blink. Had Gwen told him that Arthur had just joined the circus, Merlin might have been less shocked. He tried to imagine a scenario where the infamously posh Pendragon voluntarily ate plebeian food on a daily basis, let alone dined with everyday people… and failed.
"What does he do there?"
In spite of how annoyed she was then (Merlin could tell), Gwen chortled.
"He does what every other businessman does. He has a cup of coffee and a slice of my pie, and reads the paper."
So that's what it was! Merlin had been tasting Gwen's desserts since they were children. Many had been the occasion when his foster dad Gaius had socialized with the Leodegrance family over dinner, and Gwen had brought out her best pies, cakes, and tarts. (She'd had a talent for cooking ever since her Easy Bake Oven days.)
Gwen was beautiful to look at, Merlin had to admit. Especially if you hadn't known her practically from infancy.
And Arthur had a notorious sweet tooth.
"Gwen, are you saying Arthur's eaten nearly two hundred slices of your pie? Does he know that it's your pie?"
"You know he doesn't. My manager orders pies and cakes from me with the understanding that the customers won't connect my Diamond Bakery with the waitress who runs the day shift."
It made a weird sort of sense. But it was also all very strange. Then again, the past few years had been weird to the point of creepiness... beginning and ending with the mysterious wooden cup that had suddenly appeared in Arthur's home with no explanation…
…nine months before.
The elevator arrived at the top floor. As the doors opened, they both saw Arthur standing there. Although he'd overdone the cologne (bit much there, mate) he was freshly showered, shaved and dressed to kill in a brick-red button down shirt, black pants, and wingtip black leather oxfords polished to a shine.
"Hello, you," Arthur said, taking Gwen's hand with his signature smile and leading her into the penthouse. Then he noticed Merlin right behind her. "Oh, it's you."
"Nice to see you again too, mate," was Merlin's sarcastic reply, as both he and Gwen took in the penthouse. The great room featured floor-to-ceiling windows, affording a perfect view of the New York skyline. Catering staff were putting the finishing touches on a splendid table for two, lit with tapered candles.
And around the grand piano, a jazz quartet was tuning up their instruments, preparing for a private concert.
"Oh, my," said Gwen softly, taking everything in, stars in her midnight dark eyes. "You did all this… for me?"
"It was my pleasure, Guinevere. You've been serving me for months… tonight, I plan to cater to you."
Merlin, standing several feet behind, cleared his throat pointedly.
Arthur turned around and gave him an annoyed, impatient look. "What is it?"
"Right. Do you have a moment?"
Gwen spoke up. "We ran into each other downstairs. Merlin's an old friend of mine."
"He is, is he?" Arthur's annoyed glare turned both menacing and uncertain at the same time. "How do you two know each other?"
"Her mum was a professor at the same college as Gaius," Merlin spoke up. "We've known each other since we were kids. After we moved here from England, I went to school with her brother till Gaius shipped me away to boarding school, where I met you."
Arthur didn't seem convinced or amused. "What a coincidence."
"If I could just have a word, idiot, I'll let you get started on your evening."
"You're the idiot..."
Gwen laughed warmly, diffusing the tension. "It's fine, Arthur. Let me just take in this spectacular view for a moment! I thought we would be going to a restaurant but this is a million times better." Releasing Arthur's hand, she walked up to Merlin and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for the escort, Mer… I expect that you'll give Dad and Elyan a good report."
Merlin grinned. "Yeah, sure. See you later, Gwen."
Arthur all but yanked Merlin back to the elevator the second Gwen's back was turned. His best mate was far stronger, so it wasn't exactly pleasant.
"Ouch! What's all this for?"
"Shut up, Merlin. Why are you here?"
"Because I finished the tests on that heirloom ring of yours." Merlin pulled it out of his pocket and rested it on Arthur's upturned palm. Both men stared at it as it flashed with golden fire. "Nothing's going on with it."
"But it's almost too hot to the touch," Arthur complained as he put the ring back on his pointer finger, where he generally wore it. "Something's wrong with it. Haven't been able to stand it for more than a few hours since last year."
"I've told you, it's probably some kind of allergy. And unlike Gaius, I don't have an MD to go along with my PhD. I've run all sorts of tests on this thing. It's fine. Except…"
Arthur folded his arms. "What is it?"
"You told me that this all started up when you broke up with Mithian, right?"
"Yeah, shortly after. That was, what, eight or nine months ago?"
"Exactly. And Gwen told me that's how long you've been going to her diner."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Merlin shook his head. "Arthur, all the strange things that have been happening began right after Christmas last year."
Arthur got a funny look on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The ring you inherited from your mum glowing and giving off heat all of a sudden. That strange chalice that just popped into your cupboard one day, and how sick Morgana got after drinking out of it that time. And especially that damn sword…"
His best friend laughed it off.
"Look, my family has a lot of weird rubbish that's so old no one knows where it came from. Morgana got ill because she's overdue for a bit of karma after she tried to steal Albion from me last year. And that damn sword is going to impress Gwen when I show it to her later tonight…"
"Not the only sword you have in mind to show off, is it, mate?" Merlin chuckled.
Arthur was not amused. "Sod off."
Merlin shook his head. "Come on, be serious. Gwen is a nice girl. One of the best. What exactly are you after?"
"What's any man after when he meets a woman like Guinevere?"
Merlin knew that Arthur had no idea that his voice had softened and his face had changed. He was drinking in the sight of Gwen, looking absolutely perfect as she took in the view, greeting the wait staff and the musicians amicably, and looking every bit as if she belonged.
"Are you sure, mate?" Merlin asked. "After all, it's only a first date."
"A first date I've been wanting to ask her on for three months. And before that, I saw her nearly every day for six months."
"She told me how you met. You do realize you've been eating her pie the entire time, right?"
Arthur blinked as if he were snapping out of the trance Gwen had put him in, and turned to consider his best friend. "What?"
"She bakes everything for the diner. It's her dream, Arthur. She wants her own bakery, and she's been working at Liberty to save."
"Is that why she's been waitressing at that place?" Arthur chuckled. "No wonder the pie and coffee were so good. Guinevere is like a diamond in a pigsty there. It's beneath her… thanks for telling me."
"Now, Arthur, I didn't tell you so that you'd act like a rich prat," admonished Merlin. "The girl's clearly happy with her life as it is. Leave it alone unless you're serious about her…"
"What's between me and her is none of your business," said Arthur, hitting the elevator button so that it opened.
Merlin shrugged. "Fine. She's got a linebacker for a brother, and her father looks as if he benchpresses steel ties. It's your funeral if you hurt her."
Arthur's eyes were back on Gwen.
"I won't hurt her."
"And since this is your first date, she's a nice girl, and you're a gentleman, perhaps you should think twice about all the pie-eating you've been doing…."
"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur shoved him into the elevator. "Good-bye, Merlin."
As the elevator doors closed, Merlin could see Gwen turn away from the windows, and greet Arthur with a smile that could only be described as sexy.
It looked very much to Merlin that Gwen very well might be offering up another kind of pie… on a silver platter.
And her pie was clearly a dish Arthur's sweet tooth was primed for.
-to be continued-
A/N: Apologies for the length of time between updates! Originally, I thought this story would be just a romantic one-shot, but seems like Arwen had other plans.
Next time, Arthur and Gwen enjoy dinner, music, and more…
…and there will be pie, too.
Until next time,
~Dr. Holland