Moment of Surrender

by ChristyCorr

Summary:

Getting married wasn't supposed to change anything. [Imagine Me & You reel_merlin]

On the day of their only son's wedding, Uther and Igraine welcomed the bride into the family with open arms—well, the Pendragon equivalent thereof.

"Arthur, it's not too late to back down," Uther pointed out quietly, watching his son fidget with his bowtie.

The groom was nonplussed. "I'm getting married in ten minutes, father."

"I've been married thirty-eight years, son." He sighed. "If I'd killed your mother when I first thought of it, I would've been out of jail by now."

"Do you not see me standing right here?" Igraine snapped, looking up from the bride's bouquet, which she'd been adjusting for the best part of forty minutes.

"I do." Uther grimaced. "But maybe by the time we reach our 50th anniversary, I will have acquired the ability to make you altogether invisible. One can only hope."

Igraine scoffed. "God, you're despicable."

Uther made a despondent gesture meant to encompass Mrs Pendragon, Gwen, Arthur's impending certain doom, the laughable travesty that was this wedding ceremony, the 38-year train wreck that was his own marriage, and possibly everything else that had ever been wrong with the world—all of which he most certainly blamed on Igraine.

When Arthur failed to reply, Gwen intervened, saying with a smile, "We will have a good marriage, Mr Pendragon."

"I would appreciate it if you did not talk to me today, dear," Uther said, looking nauseous. "While I have nothing against you in general, and in truth find you vaguely agreeable and sweet in an overly mellow sort of way, today you embody the greatest mistake my son will ever make. You are robbing him of his happiness, prospects, peace of mind, and will to live." He shook his head. "I can't help wondering what on Earth you could have done to ensnare my son into a hurried wedding like this."

"Arthur was the one who proposed, sir," Gwen reminded him, somewhat lost and not quite sure what to do. She had never witnessed a diatribe of Uther's, least of all one directed at her. Arthur and Igraine seemed undisturbed, however, so she struggled not to panic.

"I bet you're sneaky. Didn't even see you coming, did he," he growled, glaring at her with open bitterness. "When he realises what's going on, you'll have him married, with two children, and working all day just to pay for your monthly spa weekends. What's he to do then?"

"Mr Pendragon," she pointed out desperately, "I've been dating your son for six years."

"Women," he sighed again, walking to the door. Before leaving, he lamented, "Heartless, vile harpies all—oh, poor Arthur!"

Gwen stared after him in horror. Arthur, not even turning to face her, said, "Don't worry about it, love. He's got nothing against you, I promise."

"Apparently not," she said weakly.

"No, really, you got off easy—I was definitely expecting him to start yelling. But then again, he never gets out of control unless money's concerned."

"Don't you go listening to my husband's inane ramblings, dear," intervened Mrs Pendragon, with the bubbly cheerfulness she often tried to pass off as affection. "But I will say this: if you break my son's heart, I will personally track you down and destroy your life."

"Mrs Pendragon, you've known me for a long time. You know I would never—"

Igraine silenced her with a glare. "Marriage does strange things to people. You never know."

Gwen could sense Arthur's exasperation from across the room. "Mother," he said, "you do realise we would not have married if you had not insisted on it, yes?"

The tactic worked: Igraine forgot her previous focus on Gwen and wheeled around to face Arthur, ranting at him in furious, rapid whispers and occasionally jabbing an accusing finger in the bride's direction.

Gwen could only hear bits and pieces; it was enough to get the gist of Mrs Pendragon's complaints, which had changed little in the past five years. Arthur was even less affected by this tirade than he'd been by Uther's.

"—living together, a complete disgrace, what must her parents think—"

"—utter disregard for tradition! It's like you don't care at all—"

"But I don't, Mother," he interrupted, laughing mirthlessly. Gwen hated seeing Arthur interact with his parents; she loathed the way they ruined any good mood of his in a matter of seconds. "Surely by now you've noticed."

"Well, I can see that! You're getting ready for the wedding right next to the bride—who happens to be marrying in a highly inappropriate white dress—"

He shrugged. "She looks pretty in white, and she liked the dress."

"I would sooner have had her marry in yellow, or light blue! In fact, I had a lovely yellow dress fitted for her, which complements her bouquet in a truly spectacular fashion; if she'd only just try it on—"

"Mother, you made every decision about this wedding, starting with the fact that it happened at all, and I beg you, let Gwen keep the bloody dress. The ceremony's starting in a few minutes; she can't change now!"

Igraine looked like she was about to argue the point further, but a more urgent matter caught her attention. "Arthur!" she cried, theatrically lifting a hand to cover her mouth. "Where's your buttonhole?"

"What?"

She groaned and left the room, ordering some poor passerby to find the bloody florist at once. In a testament to the iron fist with which she controlled her household, the poor chap was found and ushered to the room in two minutes flat.

"Mr Emrys, my son seems to have misplaced his boutonnière," said Igraine.

"No, ma'am, I just haven't given it to him yet."

"The wedding is scheduled to start in ten minutes, Mr Emrys."

"I couldn't find the groom earlier, ma'am, that's all. But I have it with me; if you direct me to him, I can have him ready to walk up the aisle momentarily."

"He's inside."

The door opened; a gangly, pasty fellow entered and walked towards Arthur, holding out some kind of flower. When Arthur turned to face him, they stood in apparently stunned silence for a few seconds; Gwen had no idea why.

Suddenly, Arthur cleared his throat, frowning.

"Merlin Emrys," the bloke volunteered. "The florist."

"I figured as much, Mr Emrys," Arthur said, but the customary dryness was absent from his tone. He looked as though he was considering whether to be polite. "Arthur Pendragon." He smiled and held out his hand. "The groom."

Merlin rolled his eyes, but shook the hand nevertheless. "I figured as much, Mr Pendragon," he replied mockingly.

"The nerve of the man!" Arthur huffed in faux indignation, laughing. Gwen was glad to see his good mood return. "No one makes fun of me in my own house, Emrys."

"Forgive my fiancé his bad manners, Mr Emrys," Gwen intervened, and the florist turned to face her. "I'm Gwen."

He smiled at her. When Arthur added in an undertone, "The bride," Merlin let out a chuckle.

"It's really not very funny, you know," Merlin acknowledged, though he didn't stop grinning. "But you're kind of ridiculous for so self-important a wanker."

"Hey, you're laughing," Arthur pointed out. "And why are you insulting me, anyway? You don't even know me!"

"You have no idea how much I've suffered at the hands of your mother for the past two months," Merlin muttered as he took a step forward to put the flower in Arthur's lapel. "I've half a mind to stab you to death with this gardenia."

"On my wedding day, no less!"

Merlin fussed with the buttonhole for a minute before he was satisfied. "Well, your bride seems nice; I'm sure she'll understand. She's suffered more than I, without a doubt."

Gwen was highly amused. She sat on the nearest armchair to watch the exchange, marvelling at the rarity of seeing someone willing to give Arthur cheek.

"You do realise you're insulting my mother, don't you, Emrys?"

"Well, yeah, but she's already paid me for the wedding," Merlin replied with a shrug. "I can insult her all I want now."

"You must be suicidal."

Merlin beamed; Arthur smiled back, even though he knew another insult was surely to follow. "I took the job, didn't I? Everyone knows better than to take a job with Igraine bloody Pendragon unless you're ready to face weeks of abuse, but I did it anyway."

"Oh, she has a reputation?"

"Like you wouldn't believe! You know, one time, she actually made—"

Arthur raised his hand, and Merlin shut up at once; Gwen stood guiltily, knowing Mrs Pendragon would tell her off for wrinkling the dress. Within seconds, Igraine was in the room.

"We're ready for you, Arthur," Igraine announced. "Mr Emrys, your van is blocking the way of the ice truck. Move it as soon as you can."

"Yes, ma'am."

The dismissal was evident, but Gwen had other ideas. "Mr Emrys, you've done such a fine job with these—I would love it if you were to attend the wedding!"

Mrs Pendragon looked positively horrified; Arthur was delighted. "Yes, you definitely should!" he agreed, forcing his mother not to voice the protest she had been about to articulate.

Merlin seemed to weight the prospect of a dull wedding against Igraine's evident distaste, and found the latter option worthier. "I'd be honoured to, Mrs Pendragon," he said to Gwen, enjoying the three simultaneous gasps that followed his words.

"Oh, not yet, I'm not, not yet," Gwen stuttered, watching Igraine's cheeks redden and her eyes widen with pure fury.

Arthur held his mother's gaze with a stern frown until she gave up on murdering the florist and left the room.

"Are you suicidal?" he hissed.

"Oh, come on." Merlin smirked. "It was so worth it."

**

Merlin sat on the groom's side of the church, and somehow ended up unofficially in charge of Gaius, Arthur's annoying young cousin.

"Where did the first raindrop come from?" Gwen heard Gaius ask as she was about to enter the church. By the looks of things, Merlin did his best to answer as low as possible, probably hoping the child would shut up after receiving an answer. Little did he know Gaius rarely found people willing to indulge him.

"Can penguins sing?" the boy was asking when she passed by their bench on her way to the aisle. She threw Merlin a sympathetic grin, and he smiled in return, giving her a thumbs-up.

Despite her many reservations regarding Mrs Pendragon, Gwen had to concede that it was a beautiful, if overly posh, ceremony. Arthur seemed fidgety, however, and Gwen slipped her hand into his to comfort him. It couldn't be nerves—nothing about this wedding had given them any cause for worry, since Mrs Pendragon had taken care of everything. Gwen soon concluded that he must be impatient, and anxious for the ceremony to finish; in that case, she echoed the sentiment.

Much to her amusement, Gaius' voice would occasionally carry through the room despite Merlin's obvious efforts to keep him silent.

"Why do cars work on ice?"

"Why does everyone prefer John Lennon?"

"Why is the alphabet in that order?"

"Why didn't Esmeralda marry Quasimodo?"

"Why is England on an island?"

Gwen heard Arthur chuckle beside her when Gaius loudly demanded why girls could take their pee-pee off whenever they wanted, and fought hard to keep a straight face. Before long, the preacher pronounced them man and wife; Arthur kissed her lightly, and they held hands as they walked out of the church together.

When the newlyweds passed Merlin on their way out, Gaius was saying, "Okay, but what if Adam Lambert died?" and she decided she didn't even want to know the context of that particular question. Merlin possibly deserved some kind of knighthood for enduring Gaius' undivided attention for over two hours.

The boy was still tagging along beside Merlin during the reception; at Gwen's behest, Arthur approached them to rescue the poor florist a few minutes into the party, and ended up trapped alongside him under Gaius' scrutiny.

Strangely enough, the three of them seemed to be having fun together—and since Arthur seemed guaranteed to be in a happier mood around Merlin than around his horrid work friends, Gwen did her best to keep everyone from noticing the groom was hiding inconspicuously in a corner.

This, of course, meant that it took Igraine less than fifteen minutes to track him down. "Guinevere, why is my son spending the entire reception chatting with the help?" she asked icily.

Gwen grimaced. "He's just having fun, Mrs Pendragon."

"Weddings are not about the marrying couple; I thought I'd made this clear to you both. It is the couple's duty to play host and to give attention to all guests."

"Yes, Mrs Pendragon. I'll talk to him in a few minutes."

Igraine smiled, and Gwen quailed, remembering that this was the woman who routinely reduced one of the most feared CEOs in the country to a pathetic, bitter mess. There were many reasons everyone who knew the couple feared Igraine even more than they did Uther, and her terrifying smile was probably one of them.

"Now, Gwen."

Discussing the matter further didn't occur to Gwen, and she made her way over to where Arthur, Merlin and Gaius were hiding to bring her husband back to the centre of the party.

"It's a trick question, see," Merlin was explaining. "There can't exist both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. That's a paradox."

Gaius frowned, scratched his chin and said, "What's a paradox?"

Arthur chortled. Noticing Gwen's approach, he smiled at her. "These two just keep going on and on," he said. "It's kind of amazing."

"Your mum wants you to go be nice to the guests, honey."

"Damn it," he groaned. "All right, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Don't be long, or she'll have an aneurysm or something." She knew the man she'd just married, though, so she turned to his new best friend and said, "Merlin—can I call you Merlin?"

"Sure."

"Can you keep an eye on the time, please? Arthur really can't hide here for much longer."

"Sure," Merlin replied, checking his watch. "Don't worry."

"What's an aneurysm?" Gaius asked, and Gwen hurried away before the other two decided it was her turn to answer a question.

**

"Look, men are strange about this kind of thing," Morgana said when Gwen mentioned Arthur's earlier fidgetiness and current attempts to hide from all wedding guests. "He's probably having one of those standard oh-shit-I'll-never-shag-another-girl-again crises. I know I would if I were in his place. It's understandable."

Gwen smiled. "Arthur's not like you, Morgana. Plus, we've been at this for six years—he's no rookie to the fidelity thing!"

"Well, no, he's not, but marriage changes things. You know that."

"So Mr Pendragon keeps telling me. I don't know; I don't feel any different," the bride said, shrugging. "A little tired, I guess, and I can't wait for this whole thing to be over, but that's all. Maybe his parents got to him or something; it's no big deal. God knows they're everywhere today."

"Mrs. Pendragon really did take care of everything, didn't she?" Morgana mused with a bright grin. "Heavens. That woman's terrifying."

Gwen laughed. "Yeah, as if your biggest hope weren't to be just like her someday."

"Oh, you just wait and see. One day, I will have that exact same glare, and I will manage to petrify everyone with a mere eyebrow twitch."

Gwen made a non-committal noise of assent.

"And that stare—that beautiful blank stare of hers that manages to convey so much contempt so quickly—oh, one can only dream," Morgana sighed wistfully. "Igraine Pendragon is my hero. Do you think she could teach me how to crush men half to death with just the tip of her heels?"

Gwen chuckled and shook her head. "Spending time near that woman cannot be good for you, Morgana. I can almost see the little humanity you have left in that shrivelled black heart of yours seeping out by the second."

"Ah, you're just afraid I'll beco—" Morgana stopped mid-sentence and frowned at something behind Gwen, intrigued. "Hey, who's that bloke?" She nodded towards the table with the punch, where Arthur and Merlin were laughing fit to burst, leaning on each other for support. Merlin's hand was dripping with something that looked suspiciously like punch.

"It's the florist, Merlin Emrys," she said, and beckoned for the two men to approach them. When he arrived, she added, "Merlin, this is Morgana, my best friend and bridesmaid. We were just speaking ill of you-know-who—insofar as Morgana is capable of that, which is to say not at all."

"Yeah, Mum can be a bit difficult," Arthur acknowledged.

"Also, the sky's occasionally a bit blue," said Morgana. "The point is that she's brilliant."

"She's had people calling me several times a day for the past few weeks," Merlin said. "And she called me herself at least once a day. It was a bit maddening."

"Can you imagine if I'd tried to put together a wedding myself?" Gwen mused. "She must've gone insane."

Arthur shrugged. "Eh. I don't know, she's a tad overwhelming, but I don't see this side of hers as often as the rest of you do. And as for the wedding, hey, as long as all I have to do is show up and get married, I can't honestly say I care about the details. I don't mind that she took care of everything."

"You're just lucky you have an adorably tolerant bride and a mother who spoils you rotten," Merlin quipped. "Any other wedding would have had you gouging your eyes out weeks before the ceremony, not lazing about letting talented women do everything for you."

"Oh, I like him." Morgana smirked. "See, Arthur, he's definitely got you figured out!"

Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"No, no, that's him all right—hiding behind women's skirts all day, just waiting for everyone to bend to his every whim," she continued, turning back to Merlin, and Arthur laughed.

Gwen didn't miss the predatory look on her friend's face; out of habit honed by five years of being best friends with an avid man-eater, she said, "Well, I've never seen Arthur laugh after receiving such harsh criticism—you should definitely stick around, Merlin! I think you might just be a good influence on my hopeless husband." She smiled, and a strange look crossed Merlin's face. "I keep telling him he needs friends outside of work, but he never listens. Why don't you come over for dinner sometime?"

"I'd be delighted," Merlin agreed, grinning at her. "Thank you, Mrs Pendragon."

"I may take back the invitation if you keep calling her that," Arthur intervened, as he and Gwen both winced. "God, you make it sound like I married my mother or something."

"Most men do," Morgana noted wisely, and Merlin laughed.

Gwen wasn't sure whether to feel sick or insulted.

**

Like many couples who had been married in all but name before their wedding day, Arthur and Gwen crashed minutes after returning home. It had been a long day, and neither of them had the energy or the creativity to have some kind of specially good sex to celebrate the occasion. Sleep was a far more practical choice.

It would have felt like a bad omen if they hadn't been together for so long, if Gwen didn't know Arthur's moods and temper better than her own—if she hadn't seen him return from work a million times furious at his father and the world, when sleeping was all Arthur could do to avoid snapping at her.

Her only regret was not having a honeymoon—which was, in her opinion, one of the few advantages of getting married. Gwen would have loved to travel and see the world, but she'd only left Britain twice. Someday she would know at least all of Europe, definitely. But even though they had the money, she knew travelling was impossible for now; Uther was a tyrant, and the company would never give Arthur more than a weekend off now and then.

Gwen took off her wedding dress, showered and put on some regular pyjamas. After burying herself beneath the covers, she complained that Arthur's feet were too cold; he reluctantly got up to put on some socks, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

Morgana often said that, at twenty-eight, they were far too young to be an old married couple, but that was what they were. And in truth, Gwen found that she didn't mind it one bit.

**

Arranging the dinner party was easy enough: Igraine reluctantly agreed to give Gwen Merlin's phone number, and Gwen invited both him and Morgana to come to the flat she and Arthur shared in Knightsbridge. She scheduled the meet-up for Thursday; she would have the day off from the magazine, and could therefore focus properly on preparing food and making the house look presentable.

After buying some overpriced supplies at the nearby Harrods and trying (read: failing miserably) to cook an edible dinner, Gwen gave up on pretending to be an ideal housewife and settled for take-away. She ordered from an Arab restaurant she and Arthur were fond of, and hoped Merlin had nothing against ethnic cuisine.

Morgana was the first to arrive.

"I've got him right where I want him," she announced. "Did you see the way he looked me over at the wedding? That's appraisal, my friend. A guy doesn't look at you that way if he doesn't mean business."

"Well," Gwen pointed out while setting the table, "you do realise he didn't actually talk to you much—or, er, at all, right?"

Morgana waved her off dismissively. "Yes, of course. It's tacky to hit on healthy-brained women at weddings. The romantic ones get all mushy and desperate, leaving the rest of us completely unable to find a decent shag. Plus, I was your bridesmaid—cliché, much? I'm glad he didn't pursue it then, but tonight, it's totally in the bag."

Gwen grinned. "You are so sexist."

"Hell, no. I'm definitely a feminist! I can't help it if I'm a harsh judge of my sex, though." Morgana shrugged. "If women have no self-respect, how can they expect an enlightened girl like me to respect them?"

Arthur arrived, gave Gwen a quick peck and hurried toward the bedroom. "I'm sorry I'm late, love, I had a horrid day at work," he called out to her as he changed, adding pointedly, "As Morgana would know if she hadn't taken off early to get a pedicure or whatever the hell she was doing."

"I had to look my best," she yelled back, unrepentant. "Your friend doesn't seem easy to impress!"

"No offence, but you don't really seem like his type," Arthur said. "You're all—threatening and stuff. He probably likes them quiet and sweet, like my Gwen." He threw his wife a fond smile. "I'm pretty sure he knows you're taken, though."

Gwen pretended to give the idea some consideration, and Arthur scoffed. Smiling, she joked, "Now that you mention it, he did give me a once-over."

Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh. "Damn. Now I'm going to have to kick his arse when he gets here."

"Please don't," Morgana asked. "You're twice his size, and I do hope to get him a little bruised myself later on—I assure you I'll have a better time doing that than you ever could."

He rolled his eyes. "Do make sure you don't miss any more board meetings this month, though. Dad's on the warpath."

"He's always on the warpath. That would be no problem if you were minimally competent at your job, you realise. Also, your father would be a far better CEO if he had a happy home life."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"No, really," Morgana pressed on. "He's kind of hot for a bloke his age. I could definitely persuade myself to give him a try."

"Oh, God," Arthur wailed. "Ah, my brain! Morgana, please shut up, and never speak of this again."

She seemed delighted to have disturbed him so. "Oh, but Arthur, I'd make such a lovely stepmother."

Gwen grinned, and let the two of them bicker alone; they could go on for hours if left unsupervised. She showered and changed into something more comfortable than the clothes she'd worn out to shop; by the time she returned to the living room, Merlin had already arrived.

"He brought you guys flowers," Morgana announced in a disbelieving, alarmed tone, pointing at the offending bouquet, which she had thrown haphazardly on the coffee table. Gwen assumed she was revising her earlier resolution based on the—new but remarkably unsurprising—fact that Merlin was the kind of guy who gave people flowers for every occasion.

"Occupational hazard." Merlin shrugged, unfazed. "Anthurium—that's for hospitality—and holly, for domestic happiness."

"They're beautiful, Merlin, thank you," Gwen said, getting the bouquet. "Don't mind Morgana. She's fundamentally lacking in anything sentimental and feminine, and that apparently includes the ability to like flowers."

"She wouldn't know a nice flower from a poke in the eye," Arthur helpfully added.

"I'm used to that attitude," Merlin laughed. "But it's usually men spewing that bizarre flowers-are-for-pansies crap. I've always wondered if they meant it as a pun."

"Well, Arthur is being mercifully quiet, but he's not a huge fan, either." Gwen made a face. "I took pity on him a few years ago and told him my favourite flower, just so he'd stop terrorising florists whenever he had to buy me some for a special occasion. I can only imagine the horrors he inflicted on them before that."

"Oh, but getting flowers for you should be no hardship at all! White camellias, orange blossoms, lilacs, lilies-of-the-valley, smilaxes," Merlin suggested, ticking off his fingers. "Look, just tell him to come to me next time."

"I will! Now come, help me put these in water," she said delightedly, and he followed her into the kitchen.

"Oi, Emrys, she's taken, yeah? Hands off!" Arthur yelped, and Merlin glanced back at the living room in confusion for a moment.

Understanding dawned on his face as he realised how easily the situation could be misunderstood. "Ah. Er, no offence, you're great and all, but er, I'm gay," he said hurriedly.

"Oh," Gwen exclaimed, caught unawares by the casual revelation. "That's lovely!" She let out an embarrassed chuckle, still flustered. "Well done!" She nodded, unsure whether her reaction had seemed positive enough. "Good for you, Merlin."

He raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, I guess."

"So, er, the flower shop," she said, striving to make small talk after his unexpected statement—oh, God, Morgana was going to be devastated. "How's that working out for you?"

"It's all right. I have a bit of a green thumb, and I took some Botany courses a few years ago," he shrugged. "It seemed like a good choice."

It was an adequate answer, but it didn't give Gwen material to prolong the conversation. "I see."

"And you, what do you do?"

"I'm assistant editor at a travel magazine," she said, relieved to have finally come up with something to talk about. "I'm thinking of writing a travel book—well, it's been my dream for ages. I have no idea if I'll ever manage to make it work."

"Oh?" Merlin looked up from the flowers he'd been rearranging in the vase. "What's the book about?"

"Basically, it would list the best places to be in each time of the year. So if it's late February, it's Carnival in Rio; mid-May, it's Cannes, if you're a cinephile; the second week of July, it's the Pamplona bull run, and so on—that way, if you ever want to travel on impulse, or if you know in advance when you'll get a month off, the book can tell you the best options for the dates you have available, and give you a complete guide to all these events."

"So you've actually travelled the world?"

"That was the plan, but—you know how it goes." She smiled and shrugged. "There's Arthur, and work, and did I mention there's Arthur?"

Merlin laughed. "He seems like the sort of guy that would take up a lot of one's time."

"Oh, you have no idea," she said, laughing. "He's quite the handful. And he's so—I don't know, magnetic? Everyone falls over themselves to get things done for him. I fell for him so long ago that I don't even remember what it was like not to love him. I don't know why everyone else puts up with him, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

He gave her a sad grin. "You're lucky to have found someone so young."

Gwen frowned at his sudden unhappiness and patted his shoulder amicably.

"I'm sure you'll find someone, Merlin," she said. "There's a person out there for everyone."

**

"It's been three weeks now, so let's hear it: how much better is sex after marriage?"

Just once, Gwen wished that Morgana would stick to remotely appropriate discussion topics in the presence of guests.

"Oh, please!" She waved dismissively. "Get a husband yourself and find out."

"No, no, I hear it's great," Morgana replied, smirking at Merlin. "Whenever I have sex with people after they're married, they always say it's fantastic."

Gwen shook her head, amused by Morgana's doomed attempts to intrigue the man.

"I don't believe in adultery," Merlin said, staring pensively at the tablecloth. "I mean, obviously it happens, but I just—I don't think anyone can really cheat on someone they truly love. It doesn't make sense. You can't belong entirely to someone and look the other way."

"You'd be surprised," said Morgana.

Arthur fiddled with his fork for a moment before speaking up. "No, I agree."

"Well, but 'belonging' to someone—how does that even work?" Morgana asked. "And don't try to tell me everyone who's married is deeply in love, because I'll just laugh at you."

"It just happens, I guess," Arthur said, throwing Gwen a smile. "You don't know it's happened right away. It feels warm and comfortable, and you hang in there, weathering out the troubles and making space for the other person in your life. And then one day you realise this is it—you've found the one you're spending the rest of your life with, and nothing will ever feel as good as this."

Gwen reached out for his hand. "Exactly."

"No," Merlin said frowning. "No, I disagree. I think you know right away. As soon as your eyes—whatever, everything that happens from the moment you meet just proves you were right from the get-go. You only realised you were incomplete when you felt whole for the first time, and nothing else matters as much anymore." He paused, took a deep breath. "You just know it."

"Yeah, sorry, honey, I have to side with him on this one," Gwen decided with a chuckle.

"No," Arthur snapped at Merlin, nostrils flaring. He resembled Igraine more every second, and Gwen resolved to interrupt the discussion before Arthur got truly annoyed. "That's ridiculous; that's just soulmate rubbish. If you think everyone who doesn't have that is settling for less—"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"It is, though, I—"

"Dessert's ready," Gwen announced, standing up hurriedly. "Why don't the three of you wait on the balcony while I serve it? You can show Merlin our butterfly garden; Arthur, maybe he can give us some tips."

Arthur, understanding her reprimand for what it was, bowed his head and showed Merlin the way to the garden.

**

"See what I told you?" Morgana said triumphantly as she helped Gwen clear the table—not out of a desire to help, of course, as she'd explained on previous occasions, but simply as a means to discuss the evening's progress with Gwen.

"No, actually." Gwen frowned. "What is it that I'm supposed to see?"

"He definitely fancies me! Didn't you hear that little speech? All for me."

"Jesus. He—really, really doesn't." Gwen snorted and, imagining Merlin would have no issue with her telling other people, said, "He's gay, Morgana."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, really?"

"What, you don't think that slightly impedes your seduction plans?"

"Not at all. I've never been with two men before! The infamous devil's three-way—it takes a man that's really confident in his sexuality to go there." Her mind wandered off, considering the possibilities. "Very interesting!"

"Er, judging by the way he put it, I'm not exactly sure he'd be open to having a women in the mix," Gwen pointed out carefully.

"Oh, please! Like I said, he was eyeing me. Although," she paused and considered, "it's possible that he could be into you, too. I'd definitely step back if that were the case—that's how much I love you. Your sex life is considerably more boring than mine, so, well, it would be more charity than anything. But you'd owe me big time, you know that."

Gwen blinked. "I'm not following. What?"

It took her a few seconds to understand what Morgana was hinting at; by the time she did, the woman was already smiling broadly at the mental pictures she'd undoubtedly conjured in the blink of an eye.

"Do you think Arthur can be convinced?" Morgana asked, tearing herself away from her mental happy place to investigate the possibility of bringing her current fantasy to fruition.

"I really don't think so—I'm sorry!" Gwen laughed. "My God, your mind really is perpetually in the gutter."

"Hey, can I ask him?"

The question was more out of courtesy than anything; Morgana would pursue this regardless of Gwen's reply. "Sure," she answered, not knowing whether the question referred to Arthur or Merlin. "Just don't do it in front of Merlin! The poor guy will be mortified."

"Of course not! I'll ask them separately," Morgana winked. "They're more likely to agree that way."

Gwen shook her head. "You are completely hopeless."

**

Later that night, Gwen and Arthur were already in bed when her cell phone rang; it was Morgana.

"Nothing," she confessed bleakly as soon as Gwen picked up. "Nada. The man has a magical gay shield that makes him completely impervious to every single one of my pick-up lines and come-hither routines. He was all depressed over something—I think he's pining after some other guy, an ex who's now with someone else or something. I kept trying to get through to him, but he wouldn't explain. Don't gay men do rebound shags? He didn't look at my boobs, not once, all night! That can't be normal!"

"Mm," Gwen said noncommittally, huddling closer to Arthur for warmth. "Well, then you lucked out, then. Come on, Morgana, you have other fish to fry—other, preferably less gay, fish."

"Well, yes, but Gwen! I really want this one. Maybe it's just because he's playing hard-to-get, but I do!"

"He's not being difficult, love, he's genuinely not interested."

"That doesn't exist," Morgana snapped. "Every man adores sex."

"I'm sure he does—with other men. You're probably lacking some considerable...parts that he finds essential."

"Oh, there are toys for that! By the way, I love it that even though we've been friends for aeons, you still can't bring yourself to say the words out loud," Morgana scoffed. "Come on, Gwen, repeat after me: cock."

"Arthur's right here," she hissed.

"Yes, I figured. Well, I daresay he's heard you say it more times than I!" Morgana paused; after a moment of horrified shock, she asked, "You do say it to him, don't you?"

"Someday, you will understand and accept that unlike you, I don't actually enjoy discussing my sex life with people in minute detail." Ignoring Morgana's offended, 'But I'm not people,' Gwen rolled over and glanced at her bedside clock. "You know what? It's too late for this. Good night, Morgana."

"Fine. Good night, Gwen."

**

"So, your matchmaking dinner was a success," said Arthur the next morning as they entered the supermarket. "Morgana definitely went home with Merlin! She must be thrilled. Did she say anything?"

"Oh, yeah." Gwen laughed. "She failed miserably!"

"Seriously?" He made a face. "That's odd. Merlin seemed to be all over her."

"Oh, he definitely wasn't."

"Come on, he was."

"You're so uncool," she teased, poking him in the ribs. "Merlin's gay, honey. He probably didn't even notice Morgana was trying to hit on him."

"Whoa. Really?" Arthur grinned. "That is so weird. He doesn't look it. I mean, sure, he's got the whole...hippie dress code thing, and, well, florist, but—wow, it was totally obvious. Why didn't we see it before?"

"I know, right? I mean, he's really—" Gwen stopped talking abruptly when she saw a familiar mop of black hair somewhere behind Arthur, headed in their direction. She squinted and, sure enough, it was Merlin. "—right here. Hello!" she finished brightly, and Arthur spun around to face the newcomer.

"Er. Hello!" Merlin waved at them, also surprised. He was sharing a basket with a handsome man whom Gwen presumed to be his boyfriend. Arthur nodded at them, and Gwen waved back.

The boyfriend elbowed Merlin sharply. "Ow," he groaned. "Er, Arthur, Gwen, this is Will. Will, these are Arthur and Gwen."

"Er. Are you gay, too?" Arthur asked in what he probably thought was a polite tone, and Will spluttered.

Merlin glanced at Gwen, who shrugged with a vague hey,-he-asked,-and-you-didn't-say-it-was-a-secret gesture. He responded with a one-shoulder shrug, which she interpreted as acceptance.

"Am I gay? I'm bloody ecstatic, darling, thank you!" Will snapped; he turned to Merlin, narrowing his eyes in obvious fury. "Seriously, these friends of yours, Merlin, it's like you have no taste at all."

"Er," said Merlin, disregarding his boyfriend entirely. "I'm sorry—he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or something."

"No, I get it," Arthur replied, visibly annoyed; Merlin tensed in anticipation of his next sentence. "You probably hang out with people who are more—well, hip than us, and your boyfriend's disappointed. It's only fair."

"Oh, Jesus," Will moaned.

Merlin frowned. "One, he's not my boyfriend." Will let out a barking laugh at that, but did not disagree. "Two, you're stereotyping us and I don't like it. And three, you've talked to me for what, all of ten minutes total? How can you pass judgment on my character?"

"You started passing judgment on mine the moment we met," Arthur pointed out. "Pot, kettle, much?"

"Yes, well, some of us are layered, whereas others are just jerks all around," Will said irritably, taking hold of Merlin's elbow and trying to steer him away from the Pendragons.

Apparently, Will had missed the fact that both Arthur and Merlin were smiling slightly, and not taking the argument seriously at all. Gwen took note of this playfulness, realising that the two of them had actually grown fond of each other, despite their obviously incompatible personalities.

"Oh, I'm layered!" Arthur protested.

"Right," Merlin snorted.

"Hidden depths, man, I'm telling you. Don't judge this book by its pretty cover!"

Merlin burst out laughing. "I don't know how you put up with him," he said to Gwen, not without affection. She grinned, and he added, "Hey, last night was good, we should definitely do it again sometime."

"Definitely!" Gwen nodded. "I'll call you, yeah?"

"All right, then." Will nudged Merlin unsubtly; with a brief apologetic wave, he allowed himself to be dragged away.

**

"I'm still trying," Morgana said over the phone later that week. "I just had an idea: I'll buy some flowers over the phone and ask him to deliver them to me in a restaurant."

Gwen was amused, but still sceptical. "It's not going to work. Why are you even trying?"

"O, ye of little faith," Morgana scoffed.

It didn't work.

"'I'll be your friend, if you want, but really, just give up,' he says. 'I'm really very gay. Sorry!' God!" Morgana complained from her cell on her way out of the restaurant. "I thought gay people were supposed to be enlightened and all! Everyone knows human sexuality, deep down, is a totally fluid thing!"

"And will you give up?" Gwen asked, not bothering to discuss the matter, because really, Morgana's world views were strange and often skewed, but they were solidly established as absolute truths in her mind.

To her surprise, Morgana sighed and admitted, "You know, if he keeps up this heroic resistance, I just might."

**

Igraine's sister, Nimueh, was a busy woman who travelled the world and had little time for her son. While this certainly explained why Igraine had ordered Gwen and Arthur to go to one of Gaius's school presentations—Arthur hadn't been keen on leaving the office in the middle of the day, but Uther had threatened to fire him if he did not obey Igraine's summons—it certainly did not justify Merlin's unexpected presence there.

"Gaius asked me to help him prepare this," Merlin hurried to clarify when Igraine stared him down. "He said I could come if I wanted to, but he clearly meant I should come if I could, and I could, so—I'm sorry. I had no idea you would all be here. I'll just go; I don't mean to be a nuisance."

"Nonsense. You should stay with us!" Arthur said, patting Merlin's shoulder. "What's the presentation about anyway?"

"Space," Merlin promptly replied. "It looks pretty, if I may say so myself, but I have no idea what he'll actually say—he wrote it after we finished making the stars and the planets, and I didn't get a chance to look at the draft."

As it turned out, the written part was the presentation's only flaw: Gaius and Merlin's glittering star models looked gorgeous in the dark room, and the boy used a torch to illuminate each planet and constellation as he talked about it.

"This is space," he began. "Space is many light-years away. Light-years are not days and months, but kilometres—there's a good reason for this, but I don't quite understand it yet. This part here's the Milky Way. It's made up of lots of stars and celestial phenona—phenoman—phenonema."

Arthur suppressed a chortle; judging by the way his torso swayed in her direction, Merlin had elbowed him in the side as a response. Gwen approved.

"One of the best constellations is Ursa Major, which is Latin American for 'Big Bear.'"

Not even Merlin could contain a titter at this one.

"Pot, kettle," she heard Arthur whisper triumphantly to him. "You bloody hypocrite."

"It's called that because one day in the olden times that never really happened, a naughty god called Zeus wanted to get a girlfriend he wasn't supposed to. His wife was very cross when she found out, but the girlfriend was already pregnant. So Mrs. Zeus turned her into a bear, and when her son was born, Zeus put them both in the sky. She became Big Bear, and her son became Small Bear."

Gaius turned the torch to Ursa Minor, which was right above them; Gwen felt Arthur flinch, inhale sharply and learn forward. She tried to get a good look at his face despite the lack of clarity, and failed. "Is everything okay?"

Arthur breathed out slowly, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I need some air," he said eventually, excusing himself and leaving the room.

After a minute, Merlin slid over to ask in a hushed tone, "What happened?"

"I don't know! He got up and left all of a sudden. I'm not even sure whether I'm supposed to follow him."

"I'll go," he offered helpfully, and Gwen thanked him.

As Merlin slipped out the door to track Arthur down, Gwen mused over what could have upset Arthur to the point of causing him to abandon the presentation. When she left the classroom after the presentation had concluded, only her husband was waiting outside.

"Merlin had to go; he had a delivery," he said, his voice clipped and irritated.

Arthur was obviously trying not to sound too annoyed, and failing—Gwen wondered if his bad mood had caused him to lash out at Merlin, too, and hoped not.

"I have to go back to work, Gwen. I'll see you tonight."

**

Arthur spent a while after Gaius' presentation in a strange contemplative mood. Gwen was customarily very good at preventing his week-long sulks, but this was different. He was perfectly nice to her—more than usual, even—but try as he might, he couldn't quite sound like himself, and it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

They were slowly but inexorably falling out of sync. The changes were small, and though they bothered her, it was some time before she noticed their much more relevant consequences. Arthur started getting ready for work a few minutes earlier than usual, which meant Gwen never got out of her shower before he started eating breakfast; he hadn't finished reading the parts of the newspaper they shared before she got to the table; he was out of the house before she even drank her morning tea.

He stopped calling her during the day, and buried himself in work—he even brought some of his tasks home, something she'd made him promise years ago not to do. He fell asleep earlier than usual, and was never in the mood to watch a movie with her, or even the evening news. Gwen hadn't even tried to suggest sex: if it ended up happening, it would certainly be a complete disaster.

To make things worse, all the while, Arthur made sure to be unerringly nice to her. It was maddening: Gwen knew something was wrong, since she wasn't blind, but he insisted on trying to act like nothing was amiss. They never argued, not even about the tiny things they'd always bickered about. He was quick to concede whatever point she brought up, and never opposed her—no matter what she did wrong.

"He's, like, Arthurbot or something!" Morgana realised one night after witnessing over dinner the tragedy that was Arthur and Gwen's current interaction. Gwen had called her immediately upon returning home, and Morgana had been quick to agree that her despair was well-founded. "He's almost normal with me, but when the two of you are together, the difference is kind of frightening."

Gwen was sitting out on the balcony, way out of earshot, but she still looked around to check her surroundings before replying, "I wish he'd just tell me what's wrong."

"Well, maybe nothing's wrong. Maybe he's just trying to be really nice, the kind of nice that doesn't even think about voicing a complaint when you put salt instead of sugar in his tea. I mean, did you notice that? What the hell?"

"Exactly! I don't know. Maybe he's just been working too hard."

"He really has—I see him poring over company papers all day long. He doesn't even dawdle anymore. Even Uther's kind of impressed, and you know Uther's never impressed with anyone, let alone Arthur."

Gwen had known the Pendragon family for long enough to recognise this kind of dedication to work for what it was: Arthur was somehow frustrated with his home life, and unable or unwilling to do anything about it. But Gwen was no Igraine; she was always open to discuss their relationship, and he hadn't even tried to bring anything up. She had no idea what was wrong, and this was driving her insane.

**

On Bonfire Night, Arthur and Gwen met up with the Pendragons to watch the fireworks. None of them was fond of the festivities, and the night was due to be an exquisite exercise in masochism; the only one excited was little Gaius, who was of course responsible for the get-together. Igraine could never resist him.

"How are my grandchildren coming along?" she said by way of greeting, and Gwen cringed. She hadn't given the matter any thought, and probably wasn't likely to do so any time soon. Arthur wouldn't like the idea at all. "One wants to have them while one's still young enough to pick them up, you see."

"Not yet, Mum," Arthur said neutrally, with a polite smile. "Have patience."

He didn't sound angry, or even annoyed. After thinking about it for a few minutes, Gwen decided there was no harm in asking, and pulled him aside. "Do you want to?" she asked, and he frowned in confusion. "Have children, I mean. I don't know, we always said we'd wait, but wait for what? Until we're even more settled? We could. I mean, if you—I'd like to, if you wanted to as well."

Arthur's face fell, and Gwen realised she really shouldn't have said anything. "You and my mother," he said after a moment, and laughed with forced joviality. "We're in no hurry, yeah? Let's wait and see for a while."

Gwen felt vaguely guilty for bringing it up, but she didn't know why; she took a step forward and hugged him. When she opened her eyes, she spotted someone familiar in the crowd behind them.

"Oh, look, it's Merlin!" she exclaimed. Remembering the argument he and Arthur had had at Gaius' presentation, she did not beckon him over, waiting to see if Arthur would do so.

Arthur did not, even though he did turn around and confirm that it was indeed Merlin, with an elderly woman in tow who looked like she might be his mother.

"Merlin!" Gaius yelped, running towards the newcomer, and Gwen realised the arrival had been expected. Merlin high-fived Gaius and introduced his mother, Hunith, to Arthur and Gwen. "Are you married?" Gaius asked her immediately.

Hunith took it in stride; Merlin had probably warned her about the boy's inquisitive streak. "No, but I was once, a long time ago, married to Merlin's father."

"And where is he now?"

"He lives in America, I believe. We haven't spoken in many years."

Gaius thought about this for a while. "Is that why you're not married, Merlin? I'm sure you can find a wife who doesn't mind your big ears."

Arthur and Gwen tried not to laugh, and Merlin blushed. Hunith gave him a stern look, and he resigned himself to explaining, "No, that's not why. I may get married someday, I just haven't found the right person yet." He squatted to look Gaius in the face and added, "But Gaius, when I do find someone to spend the rest of my life with, that person will be a boy, not a girl."

Gaius frowned, and then smiled. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. James, that's my best friend—I'd rather spend the rest of my life with him than with any girl!"

Merlin laughed. "It's kind of like that, yeah."

Gaius grinned and patted his head. "Don't worry. It doesn't make you gay or anything!"

Arthur, Gwen and Hunith cracked up at that, and Merlin chuckled. "It does, though," he countered. "And that's okay."

"It is?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur and Gwen—seeking support, probably, and she hurried to reply, "It is, Gaius."

Arthur said nothing, only patted Gaius on the shoulder.

"It really is," Merlin agreed before standing up; he was no longer smiling.

Gwen reckoned he had realised that Gaius' parents hadn't made an effort to educate their child not to be homophobic. The task of making the boy more tolerant would fall on Merlin himself.

Arthur must have been thinking along the same lines, because he turned to Hunith and asked, "How did you react when Merlin told you?"

She pursed her lips and clenched her jaw; the question apparently irritated her. After a warning glare from Merlin, though, she lifted her chin and replied pointedly, "I told him I'd known for a while; it was pretty obvious. I know my son very well."

"Right," Arthur said, nodding and trying to avoid meeting Merlin's gaze.

Try as she might, Gwen couldn't quite understand their friendship dynamics. Arthur and Merlin had met all of four times so far, and an inexplicable, slightly uncomfortable familiarity had pervaded their interaction from the start. They were clearly fond of each other, but they'd never sought to meet up, for some reason.

"Hey, Merlin," Gwen said out of the blue, "are you doing anything next Wednesday?"

He cupped the back of his neck, looking intensely uncomfortable for a second before replying, "No, I don't think so."

"See, I bought tickets for Avenue Q, but I can't make it because of a work thing." There was no work thing, of course, but neither man knew that. "Do you reckon you could accompany Arthur? I've seen it a bunch of times, and I've been dying to get him to watch it."

"Avenue Q?" Merlin asked, disbelieving.

"I can go with you some other day, honey," Arthur quickly offered. "There's really no need—"

"No, no, you two should definitely go! It'll be fun! Arthur's been working himself to death lately; he needs to take some time off and relax."

"Okay, then." Merlin shrugged.

Arthur looked vaguely miserable. "Yeah," he said at last. "All right. I'll call you, then. Do you have his number, Gwen?"

"She only has the shop number," Merlin replied. "Give me your mobile, I'll store it there."

Gwen was so pleased to see her plan working out that she almost failed to notice the strange look Hunith was giving her. Confused, Gwen chose to ignore it altogether, and followed Arthur and Merlin's conversation from a distance instead. Arthur was laughing—really laughing—for the first time in weeks, and Merlin had no idea how relevant this was, or how much Gwen had missed that sound.

She had certainly done well to encourage Arthur to spend more time with Merlin. It was bound to improve his mood somehow.

**

"How was it?" she asked Arthur when he returned from the play, days later.

He looked tense, and Gwen was honestly starting to despair. Merlin had been the only option she had come up with—the only thing apart from work that made Arthur seem like himself again.

"It was fine," he snapped, and winced at the harsh sound of his own voice. "I liked the play," he added in a softer tone. "It was fun."

"Oh?" she asked, smiling. "And Merlin, did he like it?"

"He'd already seen it before." After a moment, Arthur grimaced and admitted, "It was his birthday today. He only just told me a couple of minutes ago—he didn't want to be unkind and refuse your request."

It was the closest Arthur had come to criticising her in ages, and Gwen took that as a good sign—at least, at first.

As hours went by and Arthur became even quieter, however, she was forced to reassess the situation. Gwen then decided that approaching Merlin was her best option: he was the only person with whom Arthur had truly spoken, and maybe something had been said that evening that could help Gwen puzzle out Arthur's current issues.

**

Gwen skipped lunch the following afternoon; she looked up the flower shop online and made her way there. She wasn't sure she could bring herself to ask Merlin for help over the phone; it was better to face him and ask, humiliating though it would be.

The shop's glass doors were closed; though the sign said 'open,' there was no one in sight. Gwen took her chances and entered, the sound of wind chimes notifying Merlin, wherever he was, of a customer's arrival. It was a pretty shop, she decided, after looking around; Merlin apparently favoured bright colours over white, beige or light pink flowers, and the place looked lively.

"Merlin?" she called out, realising she'd been there for a couple of minutes and he hadn't appeared.

There was a crashing noise downstairs—probably in the storeroom. Merlin's muffled yell of, "Gwen?" followed seconds later.

"Yeah!"

"I'll be right with you!"

When Merlin did show up, he looked like he'd wrestled against a giant bouquet and lost: there were flower stems in his hair, and petals all over his clothes. He spent most of the subsequent conversation brushing bits of dandelion off his face.

"Hey," he panted, breathless after running up a flight of staircases.

"Hello!"

He seemed puzzled by her presence. Understandable, considering how Gwen couldn't bring herself to say what she was doing there. God, she'd only met the man a few times—how could she think he'd offer her good advice on how to improve her marriage? It didn't even make sense!

"Er. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'd like to buy some flowers," she blurted out, and slapped herself inwardly. "No. No, I wouldn't. Look, Merlin, it's—God, this is so embarrassing. I, uh, I was wondering if Arthur had said anything about me the other night."

Merlin frowned. "About you?"

"Lately he's been a bit—I don't know, not himself? I just think I'm doing something wrong, that's all, and if he mentioned anything about what it is that I'm doing, or not doing, then I can stop, or, or start, see, and things can—maybe things can be like before. We can get back to being like before. We're not...We haven't really been all that great lately, see."

Naturally, Merlin looked very uncomfortable, and Gwen felt horrible for dragging him into this situation. "Arthur didn't say anything," he said after a moment.

"Of course not. I've embarrassed you—and myself, which is normal, really, very normal," she said quickly, desperate to leave the shop. "All right. Thank you. I'm sorry."

Before she reached the exit, Merlin suggested, "You should ask him, you know. Not me."

The very idea of doing that chilled her to the bone. "Bless you, but I couldn't possibly ask him if there's anything wrong. That's—way too scary."

"Why?"

"Because, well, what if there is?" she asked sadly, and opened the door. "I'm not sure I could handle that. Thanks, Merlin. And once again, I'm sorry for bringing this up."

**

Gwen was miserable. She hated feeling helpless, and ended up venting her frustration in the least constructive way possible: she quit her job after an uncharacteristically loud altercation with the magazine's editor-in-chief. She couldn't even bring herself to care what Arthur would think of that, not after everything he'd been putting her through without even realising it.

Anyone could see that the publication's latest policy on photo crediting was definitely not the issue weighing on her mind. Morgana, acknowledging this, dragged her out to the pub when Gwen called her in tears.

"I don't know what to do with my life anymore," Gwen confessed, swallowing a dry sob and clutching her pint. "I don't even know what my life is. I've been focusing on Arthur for so long that when I stop to look at where I am, it's just—I have you, and I had that lousy job that I never even liked much anyway, and that...is all, really. I got a degree in Journalism for absolutely nothing. I have no high and mighty dreams; all I wanted was a quiet life. Is that really so much to ask?"

"It isn't, of course it isn't."

"Well, then, why can't he give me that? What's so damned important that he's ignoring me so completely? Doesn't he know how devoted I am to him—how much he relies on me for absolutely everything?"

Morgana frowned and finished her pint.

"I'm being unfair," Gwen reasoned, fiddling with her hair nervously. "I know he's been stressed lately; I know how busy his life is."

"I make time for you, and my work life's been just as hectic as his," Morgana pointed out, playing Devil's advocate just for a change. Gwen could always count on her to rub salt on an open wound when it seemed necessary.

"Well, yes, but...he has no friends either, Morgana. He has no life other than me and his job—and, well, you, and Merlin. That's all. He has his work mates, but for the most part he just thinks they're too crass."

"They are."

"And things were out fine before. So what happened? What's different? Why doesn't he have time for me anymore, and why is he never quite there when he is home?"

Gwen could see the cogs in Morgana's brain whirring as she weighed options and probabilities. "I'm just going to say it, because someone has to, and we've been dancing around this for weeks," she stated carefully. "He could be having an affair. It would explain everything."

"That's ridiculous," Gwen said automatically, and then stopped to think about it.

It really would explain everything. Yes, it was entirely out of character, and the Arthur she knew would never do such a thing—but she was no longer married to the Arthur she'd known for the past six years. This man was a complete stranger—one who was not, perhaps, above cheating on her.

Only one element didn't add up: "He doesn't spend much time away from our flat, though. He goes to work and comes home. We both know his schedule. You would've mentioned it if he'd skipped work."

"He hasn't," Morgana replied, thinking back on the last few weeks. "He rarely has lunch outside the bank. Today he did, for instance, but usually he only leaves accompanied by other board members, or his father."

"So it would have to be someone who works there, too." Gwen fiddled with her coaster, distraught. "God, I can't believe I'm actually considering this. I must be going mad—Arthur would never do this to me."

"It makes sense, though," Morgana said, chewing on her lower lip.

"It does. I'm not imagining things, am I? It really does make a bit of sense?"

"Gwen, I've known you guys for a long time—trust me, it really, really makes sense. Like I've told you before, Arthur hasn't been himself for a while now."

"Since when, do you think?"

"Oh, a couple of months, at least." She frowned and thought it through more carefully. "No—since the wedding, to some extent. It's just been getting worse lately."

Gwen tried to remember what things were like in the weeks after the ceremony, and failed to recall any specific upsets. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You guys weren't at all in that standard newlywed glow." Morgana was so disturbed she couldn't even muster the strength to voice her distaste of romance.

"Well, of course not—it's just a piece of paper. We'd been married in practice for a long time."

Morgana shook her head. "No, no, that's not my point. You guys went from your standard 'mildly warm' to 'tepid' within days, and since then the relationship has only grown colder. I remember thinking that marriage must really be a major killjoy if it had that drastic an effect on you guys—especially considering that it wasn't supposed to change your life at all."

"God, I really don't know." Gwen sighed. "It's a pity Merlin couldn't offer any input. He had no idea what I was talking about when I went there—he never saw me and Arthur at our best, and he probably didn't even realise something was amiss."

Much to Gwen's befuddlement, Morgana's eyes widened in horror.

"What? What is it?"

"You don't think—" Morgana groaned and buried her face in her hands. "No, come on, not—surely it's not Merlin?"

Gwen snorted. "Uh, no, Morgana, I'm pretty sure Arthur's straight. Not a chance."

"I've heard stories," Morgana replied ominously. "Sometimes guys who have been married for years find out they're gay totally out of the blue. Human sexuality is fluid, I've been telling you that for years."

"No," Gwen repeated, smiling. "Merlin is just...Arthur's Morgana. Or will be, if they ever get around to spending time together. There's nothing else to it."

Morgana seemed doubtful, but accepted Gwen's dismissal. "Okay, then. I vote I get a list of bank employees from HR tomorrow; we can look it over and check out whom Arthur could possibly be involved with."

Gwen nodded. After a moment, she asked, "You really don't think I'm being too paranoid?"

"Of course not. You have more than enough reason to be paranoid," Morgana said resolutely. "A less self-confident woman would have fallen to pieces months ago."

"Crap," Gwen breathed out with a grimace. "That's not reassuring at all."

**

Gwen arrived home at 2AM that night, mildly drunk, and found Arthur pacing nervously around the living room as if he'd been waiting for her for hours.

At that moment, she was struck by the horrible certainty that he was going to leave her.

"Hey," he said, shuffling his weight from foot to foot.

Gwen couldn't handle this—not tonight, possibly not ever, but certainly not tonight. She made an effort to laugh out loud. "Hey there!" she squealed, her giddiness ringing false and forced to her own ears.

Arthur sighed—she'd managed to fool him without even trying. Jesus, they really were out of sync.

"Shit. You're drunk."

"I am!" she said, and giggled, stumbling on her way to the kitchen.

"We need to talk," he stated, and something inside her curled up and died.

"So talk away! I'm chatty! Totally chatty!" Gwen said brightly, and clenched her jaw to keep her eyes from tearing up. "Did you know I quit my job today? It was exciting!"

This effectively threw him off for a moment. "What? Why did you do that?"

"Because my boss is an arse."

"Well, yes, but that hadn't stopped you from working there before."

"I'm just sick of it, is all." She opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. "Drinking liquids is good for you, right? Man, I'm going to be so screwed tomorrow. This will give me a killer hangover."

"I'm pretty sure beer isn't your best option for a liquid to drink."

"Oh, well! Who cares?"

"You should have some water instead."

"Four gallons a day," she nodded, and made no move to fetch herself a glass. He didn't, either.

"Anyway, Gwen, we do need to talk."

She would've hit him if she could—the pain she felt at hearing that was physical, a punch in the gut that even made it hard for her to breathe. Feigning alcohol-induced compliance, she ambled to the sofa and plopped down on it, nesting herself in a corner. "Talk," she said, yawning.

Luckily, Arthur faced the wall, apparently unwilling to say his piece to her face.

Gwen curled herself further, hugging her knees, and promptly started acting the part of the dead-to-the-world drunk who fell asleep the moment she found a solid surface to lean against.

"I'm sorry," he began, and she hung on every word. "I'm so, so sorry. I fell for someone—I went completely crazy for someone—and it wasn't you. Not much happened, it wasn't an affair or anything, and it's definitely over, nothing will ever come from it, but I did fall, and I know you'll hate me forever for it."

It took all of Gwen's self-control not to burst into tears.

"I'll stay, though. I—I'll stay with you, because I know that's the right thing to do. I've known you for years; I'm not about to throw that away on a passing fancy that I'll most likely have forgotten by tomorrow. You're my best friend. I just need a little time to forget it ever happened. I'll understand if you despise me for it, and I'll definitely deserve it, but—" he turned around, and his breath hitched when he saw that she'd been 'asleep' all along.

Arthur walked to the sofa and knelt beside it.

"Don't be asleep," he begged in a ragged tone, and she strived to keep her breathing even and her eyelids from flickering. "God, please don't be asleep. I don't know if I can say this again."

Her face remained impassive, but her mind reeled: why? When? Who? God, why?

Gwen's breaths were coming out as wheezes, but apparently Arthur was too distraught to notice. She clenched her fists tightly in a desperate attempt to hold still.

"I'll stay," he whispered, stroking her hair, and she wanted to strangle him. "I'll stay with you. I couldn't leave you—you're my best friend. You're such an incredible person. You're my favourite person—you're so perfect. I don't deserve you, clearly. I'm an idiot with absolutely no common decency. Will you believe me if I say I couldn't help myself? It's true, though. I couldn't—I didn't even see it coming. But he's just... he's just what I want, Gwen."

'He.' Merlin it was, then. Morgana had been right. How could he? How could this have happened? What exactly had happened?

"You're the one I need; you're the one I can't live without. I love you. That was enough before; it'll be enough again. Merlin's nothing, he's—it doesn't matter anymore. I don't know what I was thinking. It took me far too long to get to this point, but I know it's the right decision. I'm sorry."

She had never heard so inadequate a profession of love—it was far less than what she deserved, far less than what she felt. Gwen had never realised his feelings for her were so lacking; but now, looking back, she couldn't help admitting that perhaps routine and comfort was all she'd ever been.

His behaviour over the past few weeks now made perfect sense. He'd been unable to admit he was in love with someone, even to himself, and had tried to protect her from his uncertainties. But it was love; and he was ready to sacrifice it for her, just because he stupidly thought it was the best option.

Gwen had heard the truth in his voice—there had been something impossibly tender and broken in his tone when he'd spoken of Merlin, something she now knew had never been there when he'd spoken of her.

Arthur sighed and stood up, walking to their bedroom with his head down, looking defeated and miserable. She wanted to scream and to throw him out; she wanted to stop him from entering their room and desecrating it; she wanted to kill him.

You don't get to be the one who's sad, she wanted to say. You don't get to break my heart and then make me feel sorry for you.

Gwen waited for him to close the door before grabbing the phone from her pocket. 'It's Merlin,' she texted to Morgana; no reply came, and she quietly cried herself to sleep.

**

The next morning, Arthur woke up before Gwen. She couldn't hide her puffy eyes or the rasp in her voice—signs so clear of a night spent crying that not even he could ignore them.

He was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, still looking contrite and grim. The half-light outside revealed that the sun had barely risen, and she hysterically noticed the irony of Arthur getting up early without her nagging him for the first time in years today of all days.

"You did hear me, then," he said quietly the moment she opened her eyes.

Gwen sat up and sniffled, trying to get her jumbled thoughts in order. "I didn't know what to say. I still don't."

"You can tell me to fuck off. You can yell at me all you like; I'm scum, and I know it. I shouldn't have done this—not that I actually did much, but I know that doesn't matter—and I have no idea what I could say or do to make this better. You don't deserve this. I'll understand if you say you never want to set eyes on me again."

Well, that would certainly make things easy for him. His bloody florist would welcome him with open arms.

"You seem to have made your choice, though," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Did you just say that because you wanted to be kind or something? Is this you asking me to be the one to break things off?"

"No!" he said quickly. "No. I meant what I said. I want to make this work—I want to be with you—you're my wife. I just don't know if you'll have me."

"Of course I'll have you, Arthur," she sighed, wiping a falling tear in exasperation. "I just... Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I am."

She took a deep breath. "You can't see Merlin again."

Arthur didn't seem surprised by the request. "Of course."

Liar. He couldn't help it—no more than she could help this masochistic desperation to keep Arthur closer to her, even though she knew that drawing out this farce would only cause them both pain. She knew it, even if he didn't; and he probably didn't, not yet.

"You'll have to make an effort here, with me. You haven't been here at all lately."

"I was—distracted." He shook his head with a grimace, as if he were disgusted with himself. "That will no longer be the case. I'll do whatever you want. I'm so sorry."

"Just do your best," Gwen said, standing up; she had no idea what else to say. "And we'll see how it goes, one step at a time." She started walking towards the bedroom and said, without turning back, "I haven't forgiven you."

"I know."

"This is very hard for me to deal with—it was completely unexpected. I never thought you were capable of something like this."

"Me neither."

"Okay. We need to get ready for lunch at your parents'," she reminded him, realising it was Saturday. Arthur looked as though seeing the Pendragons was the last thing he wanted, but Gwen didn't give him an opening to protest—and anyway, he wasn't crazy enough to want to oppose anything she wanted today.

Gwen went to the bathroom and took a shower, letting the water wash over her as she mulled over the night's events. She had never hated anyone as deeply as she did Arthur right now—she just didn't know if she was selfish enough to keep him with her when he would clearly prefer to be with someone else. In the long run, he'd probably be happier with her; all-consuming passion was difficult to handle and almost impossible to maintain, and he and Merlin would have likely burned out before long. This didn't lessen how huge his sacrifice was, and it didn't make Gwen feel any more comfortable holding him back.

The fact that he'd chosen her over Merlin somehow made it all even worse, even more humiliating. She was dependable, stable; she was the one he could fall back on no matter what. He hadn't remained with her out of love—it was simply a matter of comfort.

Arthur was just too afraid to take the leap. Gwen knew what that felt like—she'd gone through that when she'd met him.

He, on the other hand, had never known what falling in love felt like; he hadn't seen the warning signs before the feeling had overwhelmed him. She'd failed to notice them in him as well, too distracted by the misgivings and shortcomings she saw in herself to realise that the man she loved now belonged to someone else.

Gwen had thought the problem lay in her relationship with Arthur—and to some extent, it did. They'd never truly been in love with each other, and friendships, however deep, were laughably easy to ignore in the face of something uncontrollable.

Their marriage was undoubtedly doomed; it was simply a matter of time.

**

Gwen dressed perfunctorily for lunch at the Pendragons'. The family's Saturday lunches were a tradition Arthur had been taught not to ignore from a very young age, and Gwen decided that sticking to routine was a good course of action for the time being.

They were silent for the entirety of the car trip to Uther and Igraine's. Arthur's knuckles were white around the steering wheel, but that was the only sign that he was unbelievably tense. Gwen couldn't pinpoint how they'd got to a point in their relationship where they could no longer actually discuss their feelings, but it was easier—and maybe almost fair—to blame it entirely on Merlin's undermining of their marriage.

She wondered whether Arthur was thinking of Merlin right now, and whether she'd be willing to spend the rest of her marriage asking herself the exact same question.

"We can't tell them anything," Arthur said, once he'd parked the car.

"They'll probably notice," she pointed out. "You won't even look at my face."

He met her gaze then, and repeated earnestly, "We can't let them notice, or they'll never shut up about this."

Gwen shook her head, not caring one iota. "I'll try. Make sure you do, too."

Morgana texted her asking if she could talk, and she said no; she sent the gist of Arthur's confession, and received a handful of expletives in return.

**

Lunch started off awkwardly, but quickly degenerated into a full-blown disaster. Gaius was visiting, and chose that day to indulge in his most inappropriate and unfortunately-timed questions yet.

"Aunt Gwen, when will you have a baby?" he had asked as soon as they'd entered. Igraine looked up to follow the exchange, interested. Gwen mumbled a noncommittal answer and fled the room as quickly as possible.

"But Uncle Arthur," he said out of the blue right after lunch was served, "if the unstoppable force-immovable object thing is a trick question because they can't both exist, like Merlin said, which of the two does exist?"

Gwen's hand started shaking, and she set down her glass to keep her in-laws from noticing.

"I don't know, Gaius," Arthur replied, his voice strained.

"Do you remember what I'm talking about?" the boy insisted. "At your wedding, Merlin said—"

"Yes," Arthur snapped. "I do remember."

Gaius didn't miss the anger in his voice, and fell silent. After a minute, he turned to Gwen and asked, "Are you two fighting? You won't stop glaring at him, and he won't look at you."

"No, dear—" Igraine began.

"Yes, Gaius," Gwen interrupted her, annoyed. "We're fighting. Grown-ups do that sometimes."

The boy seemed pensive for a moment; then he said, "Aunt Igraine and Uncle Uther do it a lot, too."

"Exactly," Gwen agreed, much to Igraine's discomfort.

"Merlin says people argue a lot when they're in love," Gaius said, nodding, and Gwen suppressed the urge to scream. "He says it means they're comfortable enough with each other to disagree."

"That's true," Uther said, "but you're too young to worry about these things."

"But Mum says I'm precious," Gaius protested. "That means I can think about grown-up things."

"Not even grown-ups understand grown-up things sometimes, though," Arthur said softly. "Try not to worry about them until you have to."

Igraine was growing more distressed by the minute. "Would you care to inform us what exactly is going on, Arthur?"

"Nothing, Mother."

"Your marriage is in trouble, isn't it?" Uther asked softly, and Gwen nodded at once.

"We'll work it out," Arthur said dismissively, neither confirming nor denying the assumption. "It's nothing we can't handle."

"Quite the opposite, in fact—Arthur, have you seen your wife's face? Have you noticed how angry she is, how bitter? This is not the kind of argument you get over in a day, or even a week." Uther glanced at Igraine for a moment before guessing, "There's someone else, isn't there?"

"Not anymore," Arthur said, glaring at the tablecloth. "Father, I would very much prefer not to talk about this."

Gwen had never seen Arthur and Uther discuss feelings of any kind aside from Mr Pendragon's rant on the day of their wedding, but it was a terrifying scene to behold. Uther acted like every word was painful to say, and Arthur seemed as though he were wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"I should tell you this," Uther bravely forced himself to say. "I should, because I've been watching you two for a long time, and I knew this would happen someday. I knew, because Arthur, you are so very much like your mother." He faced Gwen before adding, "I fell in love with her right off the bat, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for her—nothing. I was crazy about her. I was fortunate enough to have her agree to marry me, but somehow I knew she never quite deemed me good enough. I never doubted, not for a second, that if she ever found someone who made her feel even a fraction of what I felt for her, she would leave me in a heartbeat."

Gwen bit her lip, her mind racing. To her left, Igraine and Uther had a tearful argument of some kind, which Arthur did his best to avoid watching, and Gaius watched them all, befuddled; Gwen paid them no attention. Uther was right—she, too, knew Arthur would leave eventually. She also knew letting him go now was the best course of action for everyone involved; it was just too difficult to follow through this resolve.

Taking advantage of the Pendragons' commotion and ignoring Arthur's surprised, 'Gwen!' as she ran past him, she fled upstairs and barricaded herself inside Arthur's old room. Torn between phoning Morgana and Merlin, she chose the latter in a fit of manic courage.

He picked up after two rings, before she'd lost the nerve to call.

"Merlin," she said, taking deep breaths as she tried not to cry.

It took him a moment to recognise her voice. "Gwen?"

"Do you love him?" she asked earnestly, not bothering to preface her desperate call with an explanation. She was humiliating herself enough as it was.

There was a pause, and then he said, "Yes."

Gwen sighed, and not even she knew whether it was pain or relief.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Gwen knew he was being honest; she also knew it didn't matter in the least.

"I can't stand in the way, I really can't, but I need you to take good care of him. He—he can be such an idiot sometimes." She sniffled, and let out a sob. "Please take care of him."

"No—no, Gwen, he's staying with you, he doesn't want—nothing happened, I swear. He loves you."

"Sure, but it's you he's in love with," she admitted, her voice quivering. "I won't let him stay with me if he has no good reason to. I haven't even told him that yet, but—God, it's a little...liberating to finally say it out loud. It's you he wants, and I love him enough to see that. I can't compete with you."

"You're..." Merlin seemed to be at a loss for words. "You're so incredible—he'll never want to let you go, you're too... Gwen, I'm so, so sorry; I really didn't mean for this to happen. I would've backed down. I would never have even considered—"

It was all her own fault, she suddenly realised.

"But then I pushed you," Gwen finished the thought. "I practically forced you two to spend more time together! I knew you made him happy, see, I just didn't know why." She laughed, a bit hysterically. "I'm an idiot. I'm a blind, blind idiot."

"Gwen—"

"I don't even know why I called you. I'm just—I'm going to go talk to Arthur now. It's in horribly bad taste for the cuckolded spouse to call the mistress, or whatever the hell the term is."

"I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologising," she snapped before hanging up. "You have absolutely no reason to feel sorry."

**

Arthur found her minutes later, and sat on the floor, facing her.

"We need to talk about this," he said.

Gwen wiped the tears from her cheeks and held his gaze soberly. "You shouldn't have married me, Arthur," she said, and raised a hand to prevent him from interrupting her. "You should've stopped trying to make it work the moment you knew you were in love with him—and you knew that right from the beginning." He clenched his jaw and said nothing. "You did know; I'm aware of that. I've been you, Arthur, I remember what it feels like to fall for someone like that. And I remember the way you looked at Merlin the moment you met him. You should never have walked up that aisle once you knew what you and I had wasn't good enough. You owed me that."

"But, Gwen, I didn't want to destroy six years of a perfectly good thing just to—"

"That's exactly it—it was nothing but 'a good thing.' What you're feeling right now? That's the unstoppable force, Arthur," she said softly. "I won't get in the way of that. You deserve to experience this. What you and I had could never be this powerful. We could get old and comfortable and really, I don't doubt we could be together for the rest of our lives. It would be nice, and nothing beyond that. Not for you, at least. You'll never stop wondering what would've happened if you'd chosen him instead."

"I will, though," he said desperately. "I can do this—we can do this."

"We can." Gwen glowered. "But I don't want to. I won't be second best, Arthur. I won't be the one you settle for because you're afraid to chase after what you really want."

He stared at the floor and nodded, acknowledging her choice. She was enjoying this make-believe that the choice really was hers—it truly wasn't. He would've left her eventually; she wasn't being selfless, but she could still pretend.

"I love you," he said miserably. Gwen treasured his declaration, knowing this was the last time she'd ever hear him say it. "I don't think I'll know how to live without you."

"You will, don't worry," she said, crying again, because honestly—how demeaning was it that she really was nothing but part of his routine? He didn't even realise the cruelty of his words; he had no idea what he meant to her. She laughed through her tears, bitterly and too loudly, comprehending for the first time just how thoroughly she'd lost this battle months ago without even noticing. "But hey, I'll just...travel the world or something. And you'll be happy with Merlin. We'll be fine."

"True—you've always wanted to travel, and I kept holding you back—maybe you can find a way to finally write that book of yours." He reached for her hand, pathetically clinging to what little silver lining he could see for her in this mess; she recoiled, avoiding his touch.

"Your father had better give Morgana at least a month off. I don't want to handle this alone."

Arthur nodded, eager to find anything he could do to make this mess even slightly more palatable. "I'll talk to him." He swallowed. "Shit, Morgana's going to kill me."

Gwen snorted. "I'll talk to her."

Their eyes met again, and he took a deep breath. "I really am sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

"I know that."

Gwen stood up, and he followed suit. "We'll be fine," she said with a small smile, hugging him. "We were good together, for what it's worth. We'll be friends, I'm sure. I just—" What else could she say? That she wished he'd never fallen in love with someone else? The problem hadn't been that—not only that, at least. She knew that now. "I just kind of wish you'd fallen in love with me instead."

Arthur said nothing; there was nothing left to say.

**

Epilogue

**

Gwen didn't get around to travelling until some months later; apparently, putting one's entire life behind took a lot of work. Morgana helped her a lot; Arthur helped, and even Merlin, who had spent two years backpacking around the continent, gave her several tips.

It was easier to look at them now, she reflected as she waved goodbye to the three of them at the gate and boarded the plane. She no longer felt that weird punch in the gut that used to leave her breathless every time. Arthur and Merlin really were completely in love with each other; it was a little ridiculous. She felt silly for not realising Arthur had never been that sappy with her—they'd never fit together as well as he and Merlin now did.

One day, she'd get used to seeing Arthur kissing a man, but it would still take some time; it was slightly startling every time. On the other hand, it did her ego some good to see that Arthur had not picked some other girl over her, and probably never would—the whole gay thing had worked extremely well for him, much to the Pendragons' despair.

Arthur had moved to a small flat near the flower shop—Igraine was grieving over her son suddenly becoming a 'bloody hippie,' much to Merlin's amusement—and given Gwen their old place and a generous share of his personal wealth, which had allowed her to make plans to spend at least two years abroad.

Morgana had recently taken to bemoaning the fact that she and Gwen could never be together due to an unfortunate case of incurable heterosexuality on both their parts. She'd realised that they would probably be a perfect couple; Gwen didn't disagree, but had to concede that their heterosexuality was an insurmountable obstacle. They'd settled for keeping their friendship, and Morgana had given her a satellite phone as a going-away present.

"4A," she said to the flight attendant, who directed her to a window seat.

There was a man sitting beside Gwen, and she eyed him with some interest. She'd started doing that very recently; it had taken a while to lose the habit of not even thinking about looking. Doing something about it, however, was another matter altogether. She grabbed Peat O'Neil's Travel Writing and started reading, waiting for him to say something, if he was indeed interested.

"Travel Writing?" the man asked after a few minutes. "You're going to Australia to write about it?"

She nodded. "Not just Australia, but yeah."

"That sounds interesting! I know Australia a bit—we can compare notes, if you like."

The man was growing more interesting by the minute. "I don't actually know Australia at all," she confessed with an embarrassed smile. "So I'd definitely appreciate all the tips you can give me!"

"We'll have plenty of time," he said. "It'll be fun! Where else are you thinking of going?"

"My plans aren't really set in stone, actually. I just want to get to know places."

"A born traveller! A girl after my own heart." He grinned broadly, and Gwen realised she might already be ever-so-slightly smitten. "I'm Lance, by the way."

"Gwen," she said, beaming back at him.

The flight attendant's voice sounded throughout the aircraft, reminding all passengers to prepare for takeoff. Lance offered Gwen his hand to hold—for comfort, ostensibly, even though neither was a nervous flier and they both knew it.

Maybe she wouldn't be traveling alone, after all.

Notes:

Thanks to firstlightofeos for the insanely quick beta! The title is from Moment of Surrender, a very appropriate song by U2, because I fail at coming up with titles. :D

This fic is based on 'Imagine Me & You,' and I hope that the switch to the rejected spouse's point of view didn't make it too confusing.

[Disclaimer, just in case: I wrote this before the series two wankfest started, and I really didn't mean it as preemptive Arthur/Gwen bashing.]