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Pendragon

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It began with the yellow dress.

Not being Gwen's favorite, she was not too upset when Arthur sneezed, bumping his inkwell as she passed by his desk. And, she was delighted with the dresses he gave her in apology.

Her coral frock was next, shredded when he knocked his weapons rack onto the chair she had draped it over-- nor was that dress the last. Still, his replacements more than made up for them.

The day she opened her wardrobe to a sea of silk and fine muslin, Arthur walked over.

"That's better."

She turned, and he said, "I know you worked on the old dresses; I'm sorry for that. But, I overheard you saying to Merlin that you don't feel like a queen. I hope this will help."

The gowns helped a little, but his consideration was what made her truly feel like royalty. "It does," she smiled.