When Merlin, seated across from her at the small corner table in the hotel's restaurant, jokingly says the word 'pregnant' after listening to her moan about her symptoms, her hand stills and she looks at Merlin, shock spreading in her stomach, making it feel more uneasy than it already does. Still, she manages a laugh, a roll of her eyes, and changes the subject. The fake armour that the band ordered for their opening song is arriving at the hotel later that day and she instructs Merlin to deal with them. They need to be polished, she tells him. The stage lights have to reflect off them. Merlin signs, then assures her he'll get that done. Later, she sends Merlin to oversee the band doing another round of rehearsals while she pops off to get a pregnancy test.
On the way back from the store, Gwen finds herself wondering what hers and Arthur's child would look like. Would they have blonde curls? Would they be tall or short? Be impulsive and full of grand ideas or practical and detail-oriented? The moment she starts to wonder if their child would inherit Arthur's musical genes and she finds herself smiling at the thought, she shakes her head and chides herself. She's not ready to be a mother and Arthur and her are most definitely not in anything more than a sexual relationship.
Later, she stares at herself in the mirror, the pregnancy test placed carefully on the sink, noting that she doesn't look any different. There really is no reason to think she is pregnant – Arthur always used a condom. There was that time, in her bathroom when the condom broke, but Arthur had pulled out. At least, she vaguely remembers he did. Her eyes move to the pregnancy test and her hand moves to her stomach. There's no point waiting.
She's in trouble, Gwen realises, when upon seeing a single line appear on the test, there's disappointment mixed in the relief she feels. She checks the instructions again then looks at the test. It's confirmed – she's not pregnant. Tossing the test into the bin, Gwen grabs her coat. Now that this is out of the way, she needs to check on the venue the band is performing at tomorrow plus a million other errands that needed seeing to.
It has been a long day, lots of small problems adding up to a very stressful day, so Gwen is relieved when they finally reach the hotel. The band and Merlin talk about going to a small café nearby for dinner but Gwen begs off. After the pregnancy shock and the rest of the day, she's exhausted and all she really wants is to curl up in bed after some room service. Arthur's eyes meet hers in the lift up to their rooms, then his hand brushes against hers. She pulls her hand away and turns to stare at the buttons of the lift. It's disconcerting that when she looks at him, she is thinking of weddings and children and a small townhouse in the suburbs.
Just as Gwen steps out of the bathroom, her doorbell rings. For a moment, she considers ignoring it. But she doesn't.
Arthur stands in the hallway, a slight, hopeful smile on his face. Her answering grin is instinctive. And it's all wrong. She shouldn't be standing here, her heart doing a tiny dance – one not unlike the ones she's seen the band do, and feeling the urge to ask him what he thinks about children.
"I didn't get to spend much alone time with you. Thought we could have dinner together."
"What about the rest of the band?"
"Ah." His smile widens and he leans far too casually against the door frame. "They've gone to that café they were talking about."
"You should join them," she says, then tries to close the door.
His hand shoots out, stopping the door from closing on him. His head tilts and a frown creases his forehead. "Are you still unwell?"
It's an easy excuse and she grabs it. But instead of leaving, he takes a step into her room, going on about how she needs to see a doctor and how he's worried and the more he fusses, the sexier she finds him. When he starts to feel her forehead and mutters about a flu bug, she grabs his wrist, yanks him to her and kisses him.
One more night wouldn't hurt.
Their limbs are tangled, she's lying half across his body and breathing heavily after a particularly satisfying bout of sex. He's touching her gently, his fingers drifting gently across her side, down her hips to her thighs.
"Are you feeling better?"
She smiles. "Miracle cure."
Beneath her, Gwen feels him laugh. "Good to know. I'm hungry," he groans. "Room service?"
After Arthur orders what seems to be the whole menu, he goes into the bathroom. Gwen is still naked in bed. Burying her face into the sheets, she breathes in Arthur's scent. As much as wants to deny it, Gwen suspects that she's falling for Arthur. The question now was what to do about it. Scenes from her disastrous relationship with Lance run through her head. Would this relationship with Arthur be the same?
As it turns out, all her worrying was for nothing because Arthur stepped out of the bathroom, a frown on his face and the pregnancy test box in his hand.
"What is this?"
The coldness in his voice and the hardness in his eyes answer Gwen's question. Arthur isn't interested in anything long term. The pain that grips her is not unfamiliar. It starts at her heart and spreads to the rest of her. Sitting up in bed, she grabs the covers, clutching it in front of her as if it would provide a shield against the heart-break that she knows is coming.
"It isn't the flu? You're pregnant?"
So he hasn't found the test.
"Who's the father?"
She blinks. And before she can answer, he's crossed over to her and grabs her upper arms. She winces and he immediately lets her go with a muttered apology.
"I'm not pregnant," she whispers. "And there's only you."
Arthur drops the box and then she's in his arms, held tightly against him. He buries his face in her hair and Gwen suspects the words he's muttering are more apologies. She curls her fingers in his hair and cradles his head.
The arrival of room service breaks them apart.
They eat in silence, with Arthur clearly deep in thought. Convinced that he's about to put a stop to whatever this is, Gwen decides to take the initiative. Better she do the breaking up than him. Perhaps this will break less of her heart.
"Stop this?" Arthur asks as his fork clatters onto the plate.
She nods. "It was fun –"
"Fun." His voice is flat and he stares at her. "Was this always about sex for you?"
"What else could it be?" Gwen can hear the tremble in her voice and she wonders if Arthur can too. "And I think that it has run its course."
Arthur says nothing, then pushes his chair from the table and stands. "Is this what you want?"
She lies and Arthur moves towards her door almost immediately. When his hand turns the handle, her heart cracks. It's Lance all over again but different. She'd let herself believe in a future with Lance. At least, she hasn't let it go so far with Arthur. At least, he probably won't break up the band.
The door opens and her breath catches in her throat. Why is he taking so long to leave? She just wants to lie in her bed and cry. Tomorrow, with the first performance, she won't have time to cry.
"This is ridiculous," Arthur snaps. The door slams behind him and he walks to her. "I know about Lance. Percy told me all about him. So I think that you're afraid. And that's fine. That's why I thought we'll take it slow."
That makes her smile. "I don't think having so much sex is taking it slow."
He smiles in return, his expression softening. Lifting a hand, he touches her face. "I like you Gwen. I like you very much. Give me a chance. At the very least, you enjoy sex with me. Surely we can build on that."
"I do enjoy the sex," she says, conscious that her eyes are wet. She reaches for him and he tucks her into a hug.
"Is that a yes? That we try to make this work?"
She looks up at him. "This is more than sex?"
"It's always been more than sex."
"Yes," she says.
She paces backstage as Merlin helps the band put on their armour for their first song. From the front, Gwen can hear the screaming audience. She's known they had sold out their opening performance but she didn't realise what a full stadium would sound like. Trying to stem her nerves, she goes through everything again even though she just did that not half an hour ago.
"How do I look?"
"Like a handsome, medieval knight," she smiles as she lets herself run her hand down his chest plate.
He catches her hand, lifts it and kisses the back. Then he pushes her glasses up, leans down and brushes his lips across hers. "Wish me luck."
In the background, she hears the band being announced and the responding cheer. "Good luck."
It feels like the best day of her life. That title is quickly taken over by the day Arthur proposes to her. That day doesn't retain that title for long, usurped when Gwen discovers she's pregnant for real.
AN: Short and hopefully sweet. Thank you for all your lovely comments! 3