IT HAD BEEN five years since the fateful night Arthur Pendragon met -and then proceeded to promptly lose, in what must have been record time- the lovely Guinevere.
An awful lot had changed in the meantime, not all of it for the better.
For one thing, Arthur no longer woke up in his posh, decked-out flat (complete with big, king-sized bed and Foosball table) paid for by Uther, president of Albion Goodies and Gifts.
No, these days, he woke up on a futon in a one-bedroom flat with his toes up -nine out of ten times- Merlin's nostrils.
Arthur and his father had had a falling out, quite a while back, and he'd ended up getting his arse disinherited. Luckily, before Uther died, they'd reconciled, but the man -being on his deathbed- had had no time left to reinstate his beloved son back into his will, which meant Morgana got everything.
And while Arthur might have expected his sister to share, understanding their father had loved both of them and that they both had a right to his money and business connections, she'd turned around and double-crossed him. Now she, and she alone, controlled the entire Pendragon fortune and personally saw to it that her 'dear brother' never got his share.
Which meant he was stuck living with Merlin.
Not that it was all gloom and doom. Sure, most of his old friends were suddenly all "Arthur who?" now that he was poor, but he'd gotten new ones -the fact that most of these were actually Merlin's friends who had immediately accepted him into their inner circle on his say so that Arthur was a good egg, he chose to ignore, as it was a minor detail- and a new love, his now-fiance, the beautiful Mithian Rodor.
Ironically, Mithian was exactly the kind of girl his father would have wanted him to marry: high-society and from a rich family. When he had first met her, Arthur had expected not to like her much at all, but she had such an easy-going nature that it didn't matter how rich or educated she was. They'd had a whirlwind romance that had been fairly smooth sailing aside from one or two unfortunate incidents involving Merlin trying to break them up because he misunderstood and thought Arthur was unhappy in the relationship, then finally he'd proposed and she, smiling at him, eyes shining, said yes.
What he really had to start doing, was spending more nights over Mithian's house. Yes, Merlin had been a true friend indeed, letting him move in with him and Gaius, but not only was the futon sort of lumpy, this whole sleeping head-to-foot thing was just not working out.
Merlin had, in his sleep, grabbed hold of his foot and appeared to be hugging it.
Again.
He did that sometimes, when he was dreaming about Freya, that blasted girl he'd gotten all weepy over five years ago who was now technically his wife, though they rarely ever saw each other in person.
"Mur-lynn!" barked Arthur, kicking him in the face. "Get off me!"
Being kicked in the face might not be the most pleasant wake up call, but as it was a fairly common occurrence over recent years, Merlin was kind of getting used to it.
"Good morning to you, too," Merlin mumbled, letting go of Arthur's foot.
"Why do you always hug my foot like that?" demanded Arthur.
"I don't always," Merlin defended himself. "And perhaps if you found another place for your feet that didn't involve them going up my nose on a nightly basis..."
"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur groaned and got off the futon, bending over and rubbing some feeling back into his ankle.
"I'm going to check on Gaius," Merlin said, getting up and heading for the door to the only bedroom in the flat.
Most days, Merlin's elderly friend Gaius -who was the closest thing he had to a father, having only found his biological father, Balinor, a year or so after meeting Arthur, only to discover the man was dying of cancer (and he did so, in Merlin's arms, in the ward, not two days after their initial meeting)- was fine, in near perfect health, but every once in a while he had a bad bout of something or other that made him go entirely senile. They called these moments his 'goblin days'. For Gaius acted so differently when the strange moods hit him -so completely changed in personality- that it was like he was possessed. He'd make mean comments, even to Merlin, steal valuables from the other tenants in the building (several of them threatened to bring up a lawsuit in regards to the matter), drink too much, and generally run amuck unless kept strictly in line.
Being fond of Gaius himself, Arthur hoped his wedding wouldn't fall on one of the old man's goblin days. And it wasn't as if they could keep him away if that did turn out to be the case; Merlin was the best man, and anyone they might have asked to watch Gaius for the day would be at the wedding...
Merlin turned the door-handle and peeked in. Gaius was still sleeping, seemingly peacefully. Closing the door, he said, "He's asleep. Quick, Arthur, let me borrow your laptop before he wakes up."
His laptop was one of the few things Arthur had managed to avoid having repossessed when Uther gave him the bum's rush out of his own flat and sold all his furniture, as well as anything else within sight that had been even remotely expensive. Which, since they were Pendragons, and as such had expensive taste by nature, was basically everything.
"Here." Arthur reached under the futon and grabbed the laptop. It was clear-coloured, designed to look like it was holding water that could move from side to side like it was in an hourglass. "But be quick, and for the love of God, Merlin, do not kiss the screen. The last thing I want today is to have to clean tongue marks off my monitor."
"I don't do that!" Merlin opened the laptop and set it up on a small end-table.
"Why do you even use that lousy Avalon Water service?" Arthur yawned. "Surely there's a video conference service that doesn't drop your call after ten minutes."
"It's all I can afford, Arthur," Merlin reminded him, typing his password into the server where it prompted him. "Besides, it works fine."
"If by fine," Arthur said, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a coffee mug, "you mean you thought she was dead at one point because of dropped service, then yes, it works fine."
"Yeah, the police in Canada are still mad at me for calling them." Merlin grimaced.
"Look at the picture quality," Arthur pointed out, gesturing at the screen. "It's terrible. It looks like you've got ripples going across the screen."
Suddenly Freya's face appeared and Merlin automatically tuned Arthur, and any other living creature in the known universe, completely out. "Freya? Is it really you?"
Arthur rolled his eyes and took a sip from the mug in his hand. Who else was it going to be? An imposer? Merlin acted like that every time he saw Freya's face now. The man's wife was going to university in Canada, for pity's sake, she wasn't lost in Antarctica!
"I've missed you," said Freya.
"And I've missed you," Merlin assured her.
"How is everyone?" she asked.
"Good. How is everything over there?"
"Good."
"Merlin?" Gaius came out of the bedroom, grumbling and looking sour-faced.
Merlin had hoped to finish talking to Freya before Gaius woke up, simply because he hadn't known what mood he'd be in today, but there was nothing for it now. "I'm talking to Freya!" he shouted over his shoulder, somewhat dismissively.
"Freya?" roared Gaius, stomping forward. "Freya who? Who's he talking about, Arthur?"
Great, another goblin day... "My wife," sighed Merlin. "We've talked about her before, Gaius. Frequently. You even met her once."
"Hello, Gaius," said Freya, smiling at him from the monitor.
"This is your wife?" Gaius asked, squinting at the computer.
"Yes," said Merlin proudly. "Isn't she pretty?"
"You married a machine?" The old man's tone was one of utter disgust.
"No, Gaius, we're video chatting..." Merlin tried to explain.
"Sometimes I worry about you, Merlin."
"Merlin, we don't have long," Freya warned him.
He turned his attention back to the screen.
"Hey, get me some breakfast, Fatty!" Gaius shouted loudly at Arthur, even though he was standing less than a foot away.
"I am not fat!" Arthur protested.
"Excuse me, Freya, sorry about this." Merlin leaned away from the computer and whisper-hissed, "Just get him his breakfast, Arthur."
"But I'm not fat."
"Yeah, and I'm not married to a machine either."
"Well, that's debatable."
"Please, Arthur. Just feed him and let him rant for a bit, then you can go to work and not have to deal with him for the rest of the day, all right?"
"Fine," Arthur gave in.
"Oh, but remember, we have that celebratory engagement dinner for you and Mithian tonight."
"Right, what time?"
"Seven, at Mithian's house."
"I'll be there."
ARTHUR KNEW HE should have stopped Merlin while he was ahead. He should have insisted on his not giving any toast at the engagement dinner. Oh, sure, Merlin had only had three and a half glasses of wine, and he was still standing up straight, which was good, but Arthur had seen his best friend pick a fight with his own reflection after two.
So, of course, after those three glasses of wine, when Merlin started clanking his spoon against his glass to get everybody's attention for the toast, Arthur should have said something. Alas, he did no such thing. Instead, he just glanced nervously at Mithian, squeezed her hand, and watched Merlin rise to his feet, glass in hand, like he was observing a nuclear bomb going off. From a safe distance, it would have been amusing; from this close of range, Arthur all but feared for his life. (Well, his social life anyway... What was left of it, that is.)
"So, as the best man of the upcoming wedding, I thought I should say a few words."
Mithian smiled encouragingly; she'd always liked Merlin, pleased that her fiance had such a good, sensible best friend. Arthur mouthed something that was either, "I'm going to kill you," or "I'm taking Bill to the zoo," though the first one seemed more probable.
"Arthur's love life," Merlin continued, "has always been a little...shall we say...difficult...?"
A few people giggled.
"I mean, I watched him, night after night, go out with girl after girl." Merlin shook his head and sucked his teeth. "In fact, I think half the girls here tonight dated him at one point." He motioned with his glass at a perky looking blonde girl in a green evening dress seated as far away from Arthur as the party planner was able to arrange. "That's Vivian over there." He scanned the table. His slightly glassy eyes landed on a delicate-looking girl with light brown hair. "And if it isn't Sophia, ex-girlfriend number one."
Sophia flipped Merlin the bird, pretending to simply be getting a better grip on the side of her own wineglass.
Arthur was really starting to want to do the same, but he just lowered his forehead to his hand.
"None of these girls were the one for him," Merlin prattled. "Because it would always end in heartbreak and he would come crawling back to me, his best friend. Who would then have to listen to him whine about each and every one of them."
Vivian laughed, apparently not getting that she was one of those annoying girls Merlin had had to listen to Arthur gripe about.
"But one night, things were very different."
Arthur lifted his head, hoping Merlin was getting to the point now.
"That night, he wasn't upset or heartbroken." Merlin grinned at Mithian. "Because he had found her. He had finally found the woman of his dreams. And, although at first I thought it was just another phase, I quickly came to realize it was real. Mithian really was the girl for him. And she was beautiful, and kind, and able to put up with his nonsense. And, honestly, I couldn't dream up a better person to share my best friend with."
Someone on the other end of the table yelled, "Awww!"
Mithian mouthed, "Thank you, Merlin."
Even Arthur cracked a little bit of a smile. Who knew a drunken toast could be so touching?
"And I want to let you know, Mithian," he added, jokingly, "that when he drives you crazy, you can always call me. After all, who could better understand what you're going through than his first wife?"
Everyone burst out laughing, including Arthur.
"I wish you both every happiness." He lifted his glass high up, and the rest of the guests did the same. "To Arthur and Gwen."
Suddenly everyone was looking at Merlin funny. He hadn't realized his mistake, and was wondering why the entire dinner party all wore the same confused, shocked expression on their face.
"What did I say?" he whispered to Arthur, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. "Why's everyone looking at me like that?"
"You really are a total buffoon, aren't you?" hissed Arthur. "You just called Mithian by the wrong name!"
"Sorry." Merlin winced apologetically.
Mithian was more gracious about it than Arthur. "It's all right," she said loudly, clapping, silently urging everyone else to join her. "Merlin, that was a lovely toast."
ARTHUR HAD BEEN horrified when Merlin said the wrong name, in front of all those people, most of whom were going to be at the wedding as well, but something inside him also snapped back into focus, Guinevere's face reappearing in his mind as if he'd only met her yesterday, not five years ago. He remembered how much fun it was talking to her, and how he'd lost in her in an unfortunate elevator fate-test...
Maybe it was just cold feet. Perhaps he didn't feel he was good enough for Mithian. Or he could have had a little too much wine himself without realizing it.
Whatever the cause, he found himself, on his way back to Merlin's flat, stopping in at a used bookstore.
Of course he'd looked for Gwen's copy of The Mists of Avalon hundreds of times before. Even when he was in a relationship with somebody else, before it went sour, he kept looking; just in case. But he'd never found it. There was never a name and phone number in any of the copies he pulled off the shelves, silently praying he'd finally found it, at the very least so he could stop looking already, stop wondering if he ever would.
A few pushy booksellers asked, as he entered the building, if they could help him with something, but he told them no and marched over to the shelves alone.
There!
A copy of The Mists of Avalon. And just the right edition, too. Was it possible? Had he found it? He reached up and pulled the book off the shelf, slowly counting to ten in his mind and opening the cover.
Blank. No contact information for the mysterious Guinevere.
A bookseller with a Hello, my name is George name-tag neatly pinned to his perfectly pressed shirt materialized at his elbow. "A most excellent choice, Sir."
Arthur put it back. "No thanks. I changed my mind, I don't want it."
"But, Sir-" the person tried, calling after Arthur's retreating back.
"I saw the mini-series," Arthur said dismissively over his shoulder. "I don't need to read it." (Actually, Merlin had watched the series, staying up late to finish it, while Arthur had been out cold on the futon, snoring away, but that was only a small technically.) "I'm fine with just having the film version in my mind. To be honest, I quite like it that way."
AN HOUR LATER, Arthur entered the flat, to find Merlin rummaging through the cabinets for a late night snack. He pulled out a bag of cookies and sat down at the kitchen table.
"Where were you?" he asked, swallowing a mouthful of chocolate-and-cream cookie.
"I stopped at a bookstore on the way home," Arthur told him.
Merlin's eyes widened. "You? A bookstore. Really?"
"Yes, really."
"You weren't by any chance looking for Gwen's book, were you?" Merlin asked.
"No, of course not," snorted Arthur. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin."
"You sure?" Merlin arched a brow. "Because the only times I've ever seen you go into bookstores, at all, is when you're looking for that."
"Merlin, I am happily engaged," Arthur insisted. "What is wrong with you, anyway? I thought you liked Mithian."
"I do," Merlin assured him, taking another cookie out of the bag. "I've nothing against Mithian. I think she's the best thing since the discovery of potatoes."
"So what's all this about then?"
"I just want you to be happy, Arthur," Merlin said gently. "I'm your friend. And if you're always going to be wondering...about Gwen... Is that really fair to you or Mithian? Gwen, from what I remember, seemed really nice, too. Like someone who would be worthy of your love."
"Indeed," grunted Arthur. "Were it so."
"Arthur, are you sure you want to marry Mithian?"
"Yes," Arthur said, a little peevishly. "Honestly, Merlin, as I recall, you were the one who brought her up tonight. Maybe I'm not the one with the relationship problems."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Merlin dropped the bag of cookies on the table, looking defensive.
"Nothing, just that you seem to be the one having a hard time forgetting Guinevere. Not me."
"Oh, by the way, Arthur," Merlin said, changing the subject, "If you hear someone breaking into the flat tonight, don't worry, it's only Gwaine."
"Why on earth is Gwaine going to break into the flat?"
"To kidnap you." Merlin stood up and walked across the kitchen.
"What?"
"Yeah, Gwaine and some of his friends are going to kidnap you and take you to a surprise bachelor party in your pajamas."
"Ew, why?"
"Apparently it's fun." Merlin shrugged. "Don't tell them I told you."
"Wait, you're not coming?"
"I'm not a bachelor."
Arthur smirked at him and pointed. "You asked Freya."
"What?"
"You asked Freya if you could be at the bachelor party, and she said no way." Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "Merlin, you are a wonder. But the wonder is that you're so whipped."
"That's not what happened!" Merlin turned red.
Arthur laughed harder.
"Look, it's really not my kind of party, anyway... With all the popcorn and the naked women and firecrackers and everything..."
Arthur crinkled his forehead. "Merlin, what exactly do you think happens at a bachelor party?"
"And someone needs to stay with Gaius," Merlin reminded him. "I can't risk him getting me into any more trouble. You remember Mary, from downstairs?"
Arthur thought for a moment. "The really big girl? Brown hair? For some reason thinks you're handsome but never gives me the time of day? Landlord's daughter, right?"
Merlin nodded. "That's the one."
"What about her?"
"Gaius stole our rent money, spent it all on drink, and now she's threatening to make me work it off." Merlin looked very uncomfortable. "And somehow I don't think she means walking her dogs."
"Good luck with that."
"And you have fun being kidnapped."
"I still can't believe," Arthur felt the need to say, "that you're going to let Gwaine and a bunch of people we barely even know come marching in here and drag off your best friend, a man who has stuck with you through thick and thin, to God knows where, in the middle of the night."
Merlin stuck his head in the fridge. "If it's someplace near a grocery store, remember we need milk, all right?"
"Fine," sighed Arthur, making a mental note.
Later, passed out on the futon, Merlin woke to Arthur lightly shaking him. "Merlin."
"Hmm?"
"Gwaine and the rest of my kidnappers are here."
Merlin yawned and rolled over. "All right, have fun."
"I will."
Just then, Gwaine came charging in, yelling, "There's the groom to be!"
Arthur said something, but Merlin missed whatever it was, having fallen back asleep.
