Just Because You Don't Want It (Doesn't Mean You Don't Need It); Merlin Modern AU
Title: Just Because You Don't Want It (Doesn't Mean You Don't Need It)
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lance (o.O), Merlin, Morgana and introducing music sensation Caerleon (Members: Leon on Guitar, Gwaine on Bass and Percy on drums)
Warnings: Illusions of a sexual nature and language.
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: MA15
Summary: Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected of places, even when you don't want it.
Author Notes: Written for ella_rose88 and beta'd by sgmajorshipper. Yes, Caerleon are inspired by my boys (for those that don't follow my obsessions that would be McFly) and I'm not ashamed to admit it XD
My Merlin Prompt Table 2010 :: 2011
He first saw her on a Tuesday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. In it were a couple of home-made CDs and a scattering of coins that amounted to nothing more than a tenner. She had a pair of purple Doc Martens on her feet and daisies in her hair. She smiled as she sang and there was something about her that caught him.
He first spoke to her on a Thursday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. This time she had more money in it. As she sang a song she had written herself he smiled at her; “Nice voice.” She’d smiled at him and carried on singing as he walked away. She didn’t stop herself from watching him go.
He first insulted her on a Monday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. In it was a fiver along with a few small coins. She was certainly doing better for herself. He carried on down the street without so much as a care for putting money in the case himself; “Berk,” he heard her say as she finished playing her song.
He turned back around to see her crouched before her guitar case gathering the money into the storage pocket and laying her guitar into it. Her long brown curls fell in front of her face, she tucked them behind her ear and carried on packing away, “What did you say?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
“I called you a berk,” she said clearly looking up at him and smiling faux-sweetly. She had seen him watching her every other day for the last month. Each day he wore an expensive looking suit with an even more expensive looking watch and when the sun was out an unmistakable pair of high-end Ray Bans. He was by no means a poor man. You could tell that from looking at him and yet each day he’d walk away without so much as a penny dropped into her case.
He came back over to her now with an incredulous look on his face; “No wonder you have to trawl the streets for money,” he scoffed.
“Excuse me?”
“A word of advice, begging for money is unattractive.”
She laughed him off; “So is being an arsehole, but it’s not stopping you,” she snapped he guitar case shut and fastened the buckles with a practised speed, “Are you done? Only I have other places to be.”
“Like down by the river? Or are you going to Costa?” he asked her with a sting of sarcasm in his voice.
“What the fuck? Are you stalking me?” it was true enough, she spent a lot of time in the coffee shop and a lot of time down by the river working with the tourist crowds to earn herself more money.
“I’ve seen you around.”
“You’re fucking creepy,” she said turning away from him and heading in the other direction from both places he mentioned.
“See you around,” he said finally before walking away from her and down to the riverside.
“Hopefully not,” she rolled her eyes and picked up her pace. Maybe outside Waterstones wasn’t the best place for her anymore.
X
Wedding bells were in the air in the home of Guinevere Leodegrance. They weren’t for her; God help her if she found any man who wanted to marry her and she ever said yes. She wasn’t the marrying kind. She was more than happy to sit in her home studio recording without the pressure of having to cook or have a conversation with anybody who wasn’t Elena.
Or Elena’s fiancé.
He was a good man. He was good looking and kind-hearted and he was everything a man should be. Not to say he didn’t have his faults; he was incredibly lazy at times and refused point blank to clear up after himself but Elena’s need for clean was more than enough for the pair of them. No, Owaine wasn’t perfect, but he was close enough.
It all spurred Gwen to start looking elsewhere for somewhere to live. She’d been a third wheel for too long. She knew when to make herself scarce and now was the time for her to move out and move on. She needed a new chapter in her life just as Elena was starting hers.
“You don’t have to go,” Elena had tried to convince her. As nice though the sentiment was, Gwen had told her that yes, she really did. Now was the time if ever there was a better one.
Camelot Lane was one of those streets with really nice - read; incredibly expensive - houses on one end and your typical two-up-two-down houses on the other. A lot of them had been converted into flats but there was an occasional nice and incredibly expensive house that families lived in.
Gwen hadn’t expected her journey to number 237 to take her to the upmarket end. She’d been expecting a room in the side-of-the-road front-room-turned-bedroom in a house that had seen better days. But there she stood in front of number 237 and it certainly wasn’t a two-up-two-down.
There were five stories all in Bath Stone. Her jaw dropped.
Slowly she went up to the door and looked through the names on the numbers looking for ‘Flat 2: A. Pendragon’ which she found on the second buzzer up from the bottom. Tentatively she pressed the button. She didn’t know how she could even afford to live there yet from the ad in the paper it said that she could. It was probably a misprint; she thought now, but there was no harm in looking around.
It was all very Location, Location, Location. Only she was without Kirstie and Phil and TV cameras. For a brief moment it crossed her mind whether they would do ‘rooms to buy’ on the show but then she pressed the buzzer and all irrational thoughts let her mind and she was left thinking one thing; “What sort of pretentious name is Pendragon anyway?”
“Hello?” a deep, very male voice answered. She should have checked that really. Should she really be living with a guy with her track record? Potentially it would only end in hurt and homelessness and awkwardness.
“Hi? I’m Gwen, I’m here about the room?”
“Sure, come on up,” a harsh buzzing sounded and the lock on the door clicked open. Gwen nervously pushed into the building. The hallway wasn’t like any other block of flats she’d been in. It was clean and rather grand with an actual marble staircase.
“Wow,” she ran up the stairs as quickly as she could, finding Flat 2 on the first floor of the building. She knocked on the front door quickly three times and took a step back.
The door opened and she went to smile at her potential landlord come roommate but it fell flat on its face when she saw the very same blonde man from the street earlier. He smirked and laughed. At least somebody found it funny.
“Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice to meet you properly,” the pretentious name suddenly made a lot of sense. It fitted with his irksome personality and designer jogging bottoms and perfect hair despite being the evening after a long day.
“This is a really bad idea,” she said simply and turned away. There was no point looking around the place now. There was no chance she’d be able to put up with him. There was no other way to put it other than she already had an intense dislike for him. First impressions counted to Gwen.
“Not having a look around?” he said pointing over his shoulder into the flat. He wasn’t serious, was he? How could he be basically calling her a prostitute in the morning and now he was inviting her into his home as a potential housemate? He was truly insane.
“You basically called me a whore this morning… in what world would you think that I would ever consider living here with you?”
He shrugged, “It’s a nice place.”
“With an unfortunate owner,” she quipped.
He shook his head despairingly, “Look, Gwen, you don’t know me and I don’t know you-“
“Yet you still passed judgement about me and what I do.”
“I don’t think I’m wrong in thinking you’ve done the same about me. You think I’m a wanker with little respect for any one other than myself. I’m a material berk with too much confidence and too much money.”
“Basically.”
“Yet I have an ad in the paper looking for a roommate.”
“Another easy way to leech money from people-“
“Or I’m lonely. I bet that didn’t cross your mind. I could live here on my own, I don’t need the money, hell I don’t particularly want it. It’s not why I like my job. I just want somebody to talk to before I go to bed to have a cup of tea with or to talk to about my day.”
“Then get a girlfriend.”
“Not got the time. I’m a busy man, Gwen,” So busy that he could spend his time insulting her in the street, “but it would be nice not to come home to an empty house.”
“So I’ll be paying you to keep you company, a man, thus far, I don’t really like very much.”
“Just come in and have a look around. I’m hardly here. If you don’t want to spend evenings with me or whatever, you don’t have to. I’d still feel better knowing somebody was around.”
“You’re a confusing person, Mr Pendragon.”
“Arthur. My name’s Arthur.”
“Gwen,” she said for lack of something better and more intelligent.
“How about we forget about this morning, I give you a fiver to make up for the weeks I’ve not given you anything and you have a look around.”
“Make it a tenner and you’ve got a deal,” he pulled out his wallet and handed her the brown note. She took it holding it out at arms length and looked up at him through her partial frown, “I was joking.”
“I realise that,” he said with a soft smile as he leant against the wooden doorframe, “but I don’t have a fiver and it’s a bit rude to ask a busker for change.”
“I guess,” she folded the note and pushed it into her back pocket, “Thanks.”
He stood back from the door, opening it wider and giving her enough room to move past her, “Come on in. I’ll try not to insult you,” he said with a smile on his face as he ushered her through the door and closed it behind her.
“I’ll try and refrain from calling you names.”
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked as they walked into the main kitchen and living area. When she didn’t answer straight away he looked over his shoulder back at her. She was looking wide eyed around the room at the intricate ceiling details, “Gwen?” she blinked suddenly, coming back down to earth and hummed, “drink?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“Okay, so this is the living room, kitchen, dining room, games room, the every-activity-that’s-not for-the-bedroom-or-bathroom room.”
“And what about the ones that cross-over?” she asked without thinking about it. Her eyes widened, she was at a loss for words to explain herself.
“Stay out of the living area,” he said with an amused smirk, “don’t want to see it, don’t want to hear it,” he sounded like her father and her brother mixed into one. “Don’t hesitate to bring anyone back, should you move in, of course.”
“I don’t know why I said that,” she said honestly. He excused her and headed over to one of the three doors that lead off from the living area.
“This would be you,” Arthur announced as he pushed open a door to reveal a darkened room. He reached just inside and flicked the switch. It came alive, the light casting the most beautiful image into Gwen’s eyes. She could have sworn the entire room was bigger than Elena’s entire flat.
It was all feminine colours and patterned curtains. It was the sort of room that Gwen would decorate for herself. “You’re not expecting male company in a room like this, are you?” She could see it now, her keyboard in the corner, her music stand in the window with her studio in the other corner, keeping the bed where it was on the wall by the door.
“I’m not expecting anything,” he said upturning his bottom lip. In truth he hadn’t thought it through, he just wanted somebody to live with. It didn’t matter how many people you had around you every day or how much money to had, you couldn’t throw money at loneliness in hope that it would go away.
“It’s really nice,” she concluded still unable to form more words.
“Feel free to have a poke around. Anything you don’t like the look of just let me know,” he moved to leave her alone in the room, in hope that leaving her there would send her imagination into overdrive and she’d be unable to deny the opportunity.
“That assumes I want to stay.”
Arthur stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her, “You’re not running away screaming.”
“I have other, cheaper places to look at.”
“Name a price,” she would have laughed in his face but he looked so serious. He wasn’t joking.
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Gwen, I don’t need the money. You could live here for free and I wouldn’t really care.”
“I, really, can’t,” she raised her hands and walked out of the bedroom and towards the front door. She should have walked away the second he’d opened the door and she’d laid eyes on him. But now she’d see it she thought herself a fool to walk away from it. It was such a nice place and she had always wanted to live on a road like Camelot. It wasn’t fair.
“Think about it,” oh she was. Seriously thinking about it and she shouldn’t have been.
“I will. It’s a really nice place.”
Every other place had been a dive. She’d visited three other places that had been cheaper a month but hadn’t included the marble staircase or the undeniably good looking roommate. She’d been to places with damp and peeling wallpaper. She’d be a fool to turn down what Pendragon was offering her. She knew that.
Gwen waited until two evenings later before she picked up the phone and dialled his number; “Hello?”
“Arthur? It’s Gwen.”
“Gwen? Oh, hey,” he sounded distracted.
“Is this a good time? I can call back if you want?” she said fiddling with the arm of the sofa she sat on. She hated to interrupt but if she didn’t do this now she’d lose her nerve and call the woman from Southern Park and accept that hell hole.
“Now is good. Have you come to a conclusion?”
“It was a close call between your place and a place in Southern Park,” she said unable to keep the smile from her face. She could hear him laughing on the other end of the line.
“I bet it was,” she could hear the sheer amusement in his voice, “When can I expect you?”
“I didn’t say I’d chosen your place.”
“Yes you did. Nobody moves to Southern Park when they can live in Camelot Lane for free.”
“Stop fucking about,” It probably wasn’t the best way to speak to her future landlord, but if he was going to propose stupid ideas she had no qualms in telling her so, “I’m not living anywhere for free. I’d feel like a hermit.”
“We’ll sort something out. When are you moving in?”
“Next weekend?”
“Deal. I’ll even wrangle the guys to come and give us a hand.”
“The guys?” she suddenly had images of a troop of gangsters with guns straight from a 1950s movie in her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe they were spies; it would explain why he was so finely dressed and he always seemed to know where she’d been. Maybe she was the target and he was moving her in for ease. She shook the thought from her mind, it was absurd of course he wasn’t a spy.
“Don’t worry, they’re nice enough.”
Now she was worried. Now more than ever she thought it a truly terrible idea.
They bid their farewells and now it was too late to pull out. She had somewhere to live.
“Alright?” Elena greeted as she sat down on the other end of the sofa to her friend. She looked as if she had just come back from the gym. She was that sort of women who went down to the ‘club’ ad ran on a treadmill for an hour, came home and still looked perfect. The worst thing was, Gwen couldn’t even bring herself to hate her for it. She was her best friend and it was because of her that she still had somewhere to live.
“All sorted,” Elena held out the box of chocolates she had brought in with her letting Gwen have first pick. She went for the coffee cream that she knew Elena hated.
“You don’t have to go.”
“We’ve been over this. I do. You and Owaine need space to make your perfect Little Elena and Owaine Junior. Besides, I’ve found a place on Camelot.”
“Camelot?” her jaw dropped and her eyebrows shot up into her hair line, “How expensive is that?”
“Oddly, not very.”
“What’s the catch?” Elena asked suddenly very aware that her friend was likely to be taken for a ride.
“No catch. That or he wants to sleep with me.”
“He?”
“Mm, Arthur Pendragon,” she laughed at the name again, “Ridiculous right?” the blonde on the other end of the sofa smiled at her friend’s amusement. She didn’t bring up the one piece of information she knew about Arthur Pendragon.
X
The next Saturday morning Gwen rocked up in her slowly breaking car with her boxes of belongings. Mostly the boxes were full of guitar tabs, piano books and musical equipment. At least she knew that it would all fit in her room. She was saving up to buy a proper piano but she doubted that would fit. Maybe Arthur would be kind enough to let her put it in the living area. That was plenty big enough.
She had a suitcase full of clothes in addition to her other belongings, her computer system and person studio set up that she recorded her CDs with and that was it. She could be perfectly contained in one room.
Gwen locked her car and made her way to the front door and rang the bell.
“Yello?” a voice with an unknown accent answered.
“Hi, I’m Gwen?” she said nervously, “I’ve got my stuff.”
“Gwen!” the voice replied cheerily and the buzzer sounded and the lock clicked unlocked. More nervous than she had been the first time she’d come around Gwen pushed through the front door of the building and up the marble staircase slowly.
When she reached the front door it was ajar. She knocked tentatively on the door and pushed through, “Hello?” she took a small step into the apartment only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw who she assumed had let her in, “Your…” she opened her mouth to speak but no more words came.
“Gwaine, hello,” he waved.
“Hi,” well this was embarrassing. She remained rooted to the spot. Even with her head telling her feet to move they wouldn’t co-operate.
Gwaine was part of a group, a band called Caerleon. A band who had been around for the last eight years; since she was a teenager. They weren’t that much older than her. She’d always been jealous of how early in their lives they’d found success. That hadn’t stopped her from seeing them on tour, owning all their CDs and having pin-ups of them on her walls when she was still living with her Dad.
“You okay?” he asked with a look of concern.
“Fine,” she said her voice an octave higher than normal, “It’s not every day you come across one of your childhood posters in the flesh,” she admitted before she’d processed the thought, “You didn’t need to know that.”
He flashed his trademark grin. One she had seen so many times over the years but hadn’t ever been so close to before or on the receiving end of. He held out his hand for her to shake. She stared at it for a second before he reached out and took her hand from her side and shook it, “He said you were nice, he left out all sorts of adorable,” Gwen stared at him with eyes wide, dropping her hand back to her side when he let go, “Sorry.”
“This is surreal. Why- why are you here?”
“Arthur asked me to help out. Leon and Perce too,” the other two members of the band were there too? What was this? Some sort of weird deluded joke? Were there TV cameras further in the flat ready to jump out at her?
“Uh huh,” he grinned at her. He was used to reactions like Gwen’s. Though most of the time it was from people expecting him to be there. Not somebody who had just walked in on him in her new apartment.
“Come on, the sooner we get your stuff in the soon we can get you settled,” he grabbed her hand and started to lead her back out the door. He put the latch on and dragged her down the stairs. She nearly stumbled down the first few steps but righted herself, “Arthur’s in charge of our record company,” he said by way of explanation, “His sister is our manager and his mate Merlin is our producer.”
“Uh huh,” she gave him the keys to her car and he unlocked it with ease, faster than she would have been able to; fumbling with the keys. He opened the boot and scanned her boxes that were all labelled; the ones on top were open and overflowing with her sheet music.
“I see you’re musically inclined,” he said grabbing her guitar case and looping the long handle over his shoulder. He pulled out a couple of the boxes and set them on the pavement outside the house.
“Uh huh.”
“Arthur said you busked? You’ll have to play us something sometime.”
“Uh huh.”
“Gwen?”
“Mmm?” she turned around to see Arthur emerging from the front door of the main house with two others that she immediately recognised. Surreal, that was exactly the word for it. Utterly surreal and definitely not a spy. She didn’t know which she would have preferred.
“I see you met Gwaine. This is Leon and-“
“Percy,” she finished with her cheeks burning red.
“A fan then?” the taller man said with a sharp smile on his face. His t-shirt had the sleeves ripped off, showing off his muscular arms for the world to see. The world; and Gwen.
“Since I was thirteen.” She said quietly looking at the floor. She should learn to shut up, act cool and pretend that she had no idea who they were. She could have played the cards correctly and really gone to town with them. It would have been amazing and not awkward like she was at the present moment.
“She’s got our sheet music and everything!” Gwaine announced with the box of books in his hands, “Can you play them?”
“Mostly,” there she was again divulging everything.
“I’m impressed,” the smile on his face matched his words. He must be used to people having these things and not being able to follow through. She admired their melodies and their lyrical structures. She’d damn near studied them for the better part of her teenage years. Some of them were committed to memory for life.
“You should play something for us later.”
“Mmhmm, what, no. No, no, no, no. I couldn’t do that.”
“She’s being modest; she’s got a good voice.”
“Bring her to the studio,” Percy said grabbing one of the larger boxes. The muscles in his arms were bigger than Gwen remembered from when she’d last seen them play a show two years previously. Being the drummer had really put him into shape.
“Guitar or bass?” Gwaine asked pointing to the case on his arm.
“Guitar and piano.”
“Pfft, bloody guitarists,” he shrugged the strap off and handed it to Leon who shook his head at his friend.
“Ignore him. He gets over it and his less loved instrument,” Gwaine narrowed his eyes at his friend and grabbed a box and carried it back into the house, “Nice to meet you, Gwen.”
X
A sunny day in June saw all the tourists coming out to play in the city. Tourists usually meant better tips. They didn’t understand the money and they never knew how much they were giving and ended up leaving ten pound notes, thinking it was small change. Gwen always felt a little bad, but she was always in the middle of singing something when they walked off again.
She had set up herself in her room with her make-shift studio in one corner with her instruments and musical technologies. The rest of her room she had dedicated to her bed and small TV/DVD combo. She hated to get in Arthur’s hair in the evenings watching the trash she found entertaining on the freeview channels. She’d gotten into the habit of cooking in the evenings and eating with Arthur at the dining room table on some nights when he was home at a respectable time from the studio. A lot of the time he wouldn’t get back until gone ten, and if she waited that long she’d eat her own arm in hunger. Those nights she left him a plate of whatever for him to heat up.
A small group of tourists were stood watching her as she finished her last song. One came over and dropped in a few pound coins. Another put in a five pound note and picked up a copy of her CD to keep. She thanked them. It had been a successful day. She pooled her money into the small compartment in the case and laid her guitar flat in the box only to have a hand pick it back out; “You’re not going anywhere yet,” she looked up to argue and came face to face with Gwaine, who smiled down at her.
“I’ve been here for half an hour; I’ve got to move on. That’s part of the deal.”
“Not with three new band members you don’t. One more song,” one girl who was just been walking past them squeaked, “Alright,” he greeted. She fumbled about in her pocket and pulled out her phone.
“Could I get a picture?”
“Sure, guys?” he beckoned Leon and Percy to him who were busy setting up the other instruments.
“I’ll take it,” Gwen offered. The girl’s hands were shaking slightly. She stood between Gwaine and Leon with Percy standing head and shoulders taller than her behind her, “There you go.”
“Thanks,” she was still shaking, “thank you.”
“No worries,” Leon smiled as he plugged his keyboard into the power supply, “Impromptu show in about a minute if you want to watch,” he said with a kind smile. He clicked in a microphone to the stand and laced the cable into the back of the keyboard. The girl smiled nervously and headed over to the nearby bench.
“Ready guys?” Percy asked with his solo tom drum looped around his neck with a pair of drum sticks in his hands, “Take it away.”
“What are we playing?”
“Something I think you might recognise,” Gwaine smiled as he picked up the bass line. Leon started to sing as he played accompanying chords on the keyboard. Gwen’s jaw dropped and she grinned. It was her song. She mentally counted herself in and started to strum along. At the chorus Leon nodded at her and she took over the vocals from him.
The boys alone had drawn a crowd to them. It was her biggest still audience in one go and there was something a little off-putting about that. That, and she was in the middle of the street singing with Caerleon. It was crazy.
“Yeah, not bad,” Gwaine concluded as they played out the rest of the song at the end. A grin split across his face, “Not bad at all.”
“He could get you in the studio, you know,” Percy said with a shrug as they finished their song. They all seemed so immune to the round of applause.
“I don’t want a favour,” Gwen said honesty as she laid her guitar back in its case.
“It wouldn’t be one. You deserve to get in there,” he said with all sincerity, pulling her in for a quick hug. It was still weird to her that they could be this friendly with her. She’d known them all a month now, and as little as it meant to them, after eight years of admiring from afar, being within their ‘circle’ was just a little strange.
“We should scram, guys. Crowd’s building,” Leon said indicating towards the growing congregation with his head, “Nice playing with you, Gwen.”
X
“I can’t believe you guys did that,” Gwen said in awe as they sat around the kitchen table with empty plates.
“No, neither can I,” Arthur said with a slight scowl. Apparently, they were meant to be in a meeting about the up coming tour. Not gallivanting in the streets with a busker.
“Gotta let loose occasionally,” Gwaine shrugged, and raised his beer bottle at him. Arthur rolled his eyes. He understood where they were coming from, but this meeting had been hard enough to schedule as it was, he didn’t need the hassle of rearranging it, but now, thanks to them, he had to do just that all because they wanted a little jam session in the middle of the city. The internet had gone crazy about it. Who was this girl they’d picked up and what made her so special?
The answer? She lived with the CEO of the record label and now there was all sorts of hoo-hah about it all.
Arthur could deal with the cameras following the lads to his house. He didn’t mind all so much when they had disappointment all over his face when it was only him that emerged after they had been seen entering the house. But before they had seen this ‘random girl’ and thought nothing of her, now they would be looking for any sign or reason to have her in these trashy magazines. None of them had thought it through.
He’d already been bombarded on social networking about a certain picture of his bassist and this random newcomer. The gossip websites had already picked up on it and were running with stories of wild romances and avid affairs. Who was this girl? They all wanted to know, and soon they’d know she lived there. With Arthur. It was bound to raise a few eyebrows.
“Be more careful about it in future,” he said, flicking the printed out article onto the table. He knew these guys well, he knew they wouldn’t want to jeopardise any part of their careers. It had been a big enough hassle to deal with the nastiness that spread about Percy’s long-term girlfriend back in the days when she’d first been found out. Arthur hadn’t been in charge then, but he had more than witnessed the trouble it caused for the label. Morgause had a lot to cover up and had eventually quit, leaving her position to Morgana.
Gwen choked on her drink and laughed, “They can’t be serious.”
“Apparently they can.”
“Nobody actually believes what they read in these magazines.”
“The point is these guys need to be more careful.”
“It was a hug, it wasn’t anything untoward.”
Gwaine cleared his throat and Arthur glared at him. Gwaine smiled gladly at him. Whatever it was, Gwen wasn’t in on it.
“Annnywaay,” she elongated as she looked between them, “Nothing’s going on. They can bullshit all they want. Doesn’t make it real.”
“Quite,” Arthur cleared his throat and ripped up the piece of paper and threw it in the general direction of the bin, “Doesn’t explain why you guys were there,” Gwaine went to speak but Arthur held up his hand to silence him, “Tell me ‘bit of fun’ and I will run you through with my pen,” Gwaine shut his mouth again and shirked backwards into his chair.
“We just wanted to prove that Gwen should be in the studio.”
“By blowing off a meeting?”
“It’s not like we do anything. It’s all Morgana anyway. She can just relay the information to us. What difference does it make?”
“Why do I even bother?”
“Dunno, not like you’re in charge of us anyway,” Gwaine retorted with a grin on his face. Arthur considered his statement for all of a second. He was right and he knew it. Sometimes he didn’t know why he bothered. They were mostly unresponsive to him. Morgana was the one with the knack for scaring them into doing what she wanted them to. She had this mean glare that silenced them straight away.
“You guys have got to start taking this all more seriously.”
“Arthur, we’ve been doing this for eight years, I think we know what works by now,” Gwaine said with a sarcastic glint in his eyes.
Arthur rolled his eyes at him again; “You know what I mean.”
X
Gwen held the tea towel in her hand and waited for Arthur to finish washing the last plate so she could dry it. She liked this arrangement very much. If there was one thing she hated doing, especially after cooking, it was washing up. So whenever Arthur offered to actually do the chore, she always felt as if she should at least help.
“You know, the guys have a point,” Arthur said randomly after they had silently worked their way through all of the washing up.
Gwen looked up at him, leaning back against the kitchen counter, “About what?”
“The deal. I can talk to Morgana. See what she says.”
“No,” Gwen said straight away. She didn’t want their help. She had battled through the first stage on her own. She had a small crowd, and there was a small section about her on Wikipedia now. She felt like she was headed in the right direction. She just needed to get a website and start uploading music to it. Network herself. Maybe she could get a video camera and upload videos to youtube of her playing her songs. A lot of people became famous that way, she knew. But then, she had no idea where the hell to start, “I don’t want your help, Arthur. That’s not why I’m living here,” she said as he handed her the last plate finally.
“I’m not saying it is. You had no idea who I was until you moved in. I think I can safely say you’re not using me for a contract.”
“The guys are great, ad I appreciate what they want to do for me. And they are raising my profile by doing these things. I went online earlier, I looked for myself. People are already talking about it and nobody knows my name. But they know I exist.”
“That’s a start,” Arthur said with a smile on his face. He knew he had overreacted earlier. But if she did end up working with their label, it would be better for them if she didn’t have this sordid reputation to shake before she’d even started. It didn’t help that that morning she had been wearing an extra-large t-shirt and not a lot else as she’d reached for a mug from the top cupboard as he had walked out of his room to go to the bathroom to shower. He had been more than distracted. She didn’t know he was watching and it may have ridden up more tan, enough to show him her lilac underwear. Never had he felt more of a pervert in his life. He’d told himself then he wasn’t going to make a habit out of it.
“Yeah, it is. I even have a gig next week,” she said with a proud smile on her face. It was only in a pub that she had become a regular of over the years. A month ago they had heard her singing to herself and asked her if she played. It had taken them another month to get hold of her, “A proper gig. With a stage and people. People paying to see me,” she beamed as she put the plate away in the cupboard, “Which, by the way, you have to come too.”
“Do I now?”
“Yes. You should meet Elena before her wedding,” she said. Elena had given Gwen a plus one on her invitation but everybody Gwen knew was already going. If she didn’t invite Arthur she’d only have three other people to ask but they were far too busy and far too important to go, plus it was meant to be Elena’s day, she’d never forgive Gwen if all the attention was taken away from her for a jazzed up boy band, “She also wants me to play at her wedding.”
“But?”
“I’m not sure I want to,” Gwen shrugged, “I just want to have a good time.”
“You could do a half-hour set near the beginning of the reception,” Arthur said, his industry mind clicking into place quickly, “and then get needlessly drunk.”
“I just don’t like playing covers all the time,” Gwen said, something in her voice resembled a whine and Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle, “And it won’t be any good for anybody if they can’t sing along.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“But true.”
“Well, you got to start somewhere.”
“Which is what this gig is. The place only seats like thirty people and I’d like it if you were there. That’s all.”
Arthur agreed to go. It wouldn’t hurt and it would be interesting to see her in a different setting rather than outside of Waterstones like he was accustomed too. “Maybe I could bring Morgana.”
“No, Arthur. This isn’t me indirectly letting you set me up with a deal.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Arthur defended, “It’s the sort of thing that Morgana likes. Plus, I think she’ll like you for you. She wants to meet the new woman I have in my life.”
Gwen’s brow furrowed, “What have you told her about me?”
“Other than you are incredibly sexy and willing to do whatever I ask whenever I ask and you are incredibly inventive,” she hit him on the chest with the wet tea towel, “I told her you hated me and she wants to meet you. Anybody who hates me tends to be good friends with her.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“At the time you did,” her cheeks dusted pink and she looked to the floor, “The other option will come around eventually.”
“Gwen Leodegrance; Arthur Pendragon’s kinky sexy slave? I can see the records selling now. The country likes a scandal.”
“People don’t care enough about me for it to be a scandal.”
“It’s a scandal if I’m already dating a third of the country’s favourite boy band.”
“Gwaine’ would lynch you if he heard you call them that,” Arthur laughed. For so many years they had been branded as a boy band, despite playing their own instruments and writing their own material. They only settled the argument when people said that they only got called a boy band because they were only boys.
“That’s what they were when I was thirteen. Don’t deny it.”
“They’ve rebranded.”
“I’m sure they have,” the debate over, she raised the issue of her gig again, “You’ll come then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
X
The pub was one of those places that Arthur had never been in before and would probably never enter into again. Morgana sat next to him at the table, facing the small stage, ready for the performance to start. She looked around at the table in disgust, gently wiping her elbows of any dirt she might have procured from it; “I understand that you dig this act, Arthur, but why have you dragged me to this hole?”
“Because she didn’t want me to introduce you.”
“So I’m here because?”
“The second you hear her voice you’ll want her on your label.”
“Your label.”
“My label. Under your management,” he reasoned and she accepted it without further protest, “She doesn’t want a favour. She’s been working for this for years and doesn’t want a hand out.”
“And she won’t see this as one?”
“There is only one way to be sure of that completely.”
“She better be all that, Arthur, otherwise I swear to god I will pepper spray you.”
“There she is,” he pointed her out standing on the edge of the stage talking to the tech who was holding out her guitar to her.
“All that’s coming to mind is ‘Taylor’ and ‘Swift’.”
“Just wait, she’ll show you what she’s made of.”
The noise in the pub didn’t die down as she took to the microphone. She didn’t introduce herself just started to strum out one of her own songs. She found Arthur in the crowd and smiled at him, he nodded at her encouragingly and waited for Morgana’s reaction as his new roommate opened her mouth to sing.
“Different walks of life, lead us down a dangerous line,” she started. Morgana didn’t look moved. Her expression didn’t change, “But take my hand and lead me on, prove to me I’m not alone.”
She carried on singing and playing. A small smile was tugging at Morgana’s lips. That was a good sign.
X
Gwen finished her forty-minute set with minimal chat to the crowd. They responded positively to her songs and to her but there was one person still a little frosty towards her.
Morgana approached her without Arthur as she packed her own stuff away, “Gwen, is it?”
“Hi?”
“Morgana, I’m-“
“Arthur’s sister,” Gwen finished for her recognising her finally from the few pictures dotted around Arthur’s flat. She held out her hand for Morgana to shake. The elder woman gladly accepted the gestured and took her hand warmly.
“That’s me,” she said with a smile, “You were good,” she concluded.
“Thanks.”
“We’ve been looking for an act like you.”
“I don’t want a favour,” Gwen replied quickly. She shook her head; she shot a look over Morgana’s shoulder at her roommate and narrowed her eyes.
“This isn’t a favour.”
“I know why Arthur brought you here. I might be completely broke and busking on the streets, but I don’t need to be handed things on a platter. I’d rather work for it.”
“Which you have; for many years.”
“I’m sorry, thank you for the offer, but I don’t need Arthur’s help.”
“It’s not Arthur’s help. It’s mine.”
“In any case, thanks but no thanks.”
X
Gwen slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter. They’d been shouting at each other for a good twenty minutes and now she was just getting more annoyed, “You don’t understand, do you? I don’t want a favour, Arthur!” she shouted at him across the counter partition between them, “Just because you’re in the music industry doesn’t mean I’m going to use your company to open the door for me!”
“Why not?” she was so confusing to him. Surely she was fed up of trudging her way through a world that she could get an easy pass for, “I’ve watched you for a long time, you’re good at what you do, let me give you a break! You deserve to have it. That’s what this industry is about; lucky breaks.”
“No, it’s not all about that,” Gwen argued back pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “It’s about hard work, hard graft.”
“You’ve put that in, not it’s time to move on up.”
“Not with your company. I don’t need a favour!”
“Well you’re not going to make it otherwise! Do you know how many bands try and make it and fail? I’m giving you want you need, take it or leave it. But if you leave it, you’ll never have it!”
Had there not been a kitchen counter between them she would have slapped him, “Just how much of an idiot do you think I am? I know it’s hard. But if I’m going to make it I’ll do it on my own. I don’t want your help. And if that’s what you think of me, then I might as well go. I’m not staying where I’m going to be looked down on every day.”
X
Gwen had had more than enough of him and his insistence that without his help she would get nowhere. She had the talent; she would get the break she needed without him and without a clapped out television show. She still had her boxes piled in the bottom of her wardrobe. She pulled them out in her anger ad started to take the clothes from her wardrobe, throwing them in haphazardly.
Arthur appeared at the door a while later as she was starting to pack her smaller knickknacks into a box. He crossed the room without a word and looked into the box.
“Screw you. Screw your fucking flat and your fucking job,” Gwen said loudly as she piled her books into a box. Arthur didn’t say anything, but started to pull the piles of belongings out of the box and put them back on the shelves, “Fuck off!”
“No,” he said defiantly and picked her clothes out of the box and threw them onto her bed.
“Just leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”
“I’m not helping you,” he pointed out as he emptied the box out onto the floor childishly.
“Clearly!” she shouted and started to pile the clothes messily back into the box again. Arthur took them out as she put them in, sitting next to the box. Gwen moved it but Arthur followed it and pulled it away as she went to put another pile of clothes back in it. She scowled at him, “Why won’t you let me leave?”
Arthur looked at her. He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth, “Because since you moved in it’s like some void in my life has been filled,” he said truthfully. He wrapped his arms around his knees. Something about him was different, he was undoubtedly more casual but he seemed comfortable for the first time since she’d met him.
“All we do is argue,” she reasoned as she sat amidst a large pile of her clothes.
“Maybe that’s what I needed,” he said. He reached out and placed a friendly hand on her knee, running his thumb over the material of her jeans.
“I don’t want your help.”
“I know.”
“Promise to stop trying to make me take it?”
“I promise. But if the boys get on my case you have to stand up for me,” he said gently poking her in the arm. She smiled, “Deal?” he held out his hand.
“Deal,” she shook it firmly. His fingers lingered with her own for a fraction longer than they should have but her smile didn’t falter or leave her face, “Are you going to help me with all this?” she asked gesturing to the pile of clothes that surrounded them
“I thought you didn’t want my help,” he said cheekily. Gwen raised her eyebrows and moved to put the clothes in the box again, “Okay, okay!” he pulled back on her hands and forced her back to sit against the heels of her feet, “Stay put.”
X
Rice was thrown high into the sky, causing a chorus of squeals from the gathered crowd below as the grains rockets back to the floor. With her fingers tightly clad around her husband’s, Elena grinned, looking around at her friends.
She reached her three bridesmaids, she hugged and kissed both Sophia and Vivian, then she reached her Chief Bridesmaid and ex-housemate and pulled her into a tighter hug; “Thank you so much.”
“You look stunning. Both of you do. I know he’s going to make you happy,” with one final squeeze Elena let go, “Go on, we all want to know who catches it.”
“Viv or Soph?”
“I’m coming down on the side of Vivian,” Gwen said smiling at their friend who beamed at them Sophia just laughed, shaking her head at their predictable friend.
Elena emerged from the crowd and kept her back to them, “Ready?” a chorus of yeses answered her. She launched her bouquet over her shoulder. There was a shrill burst of screams as a few of the female members of the crowd launched forwards to grab it. Gwen hot-tailed it away from them and to the back of the gathering of people and her other friend and personal guest.
“Didn’t want the bouquet?” he jested looking dapper in one of his high-end suits and half unbuttoned shirt.
“I’m in no rush to be the next one to be married,” she said with a smile.
“YES!” both of them looked around to see Vivian standing victorious with the bouquet above her head.
Elena caught Gwen’s eye and smiled at her. Gwen waved at her married friend as she climbed into the back of their wedding car with her husband.
“Not the marrying kind?” Arthur enquired as the car pulled away and left the guests waving after it.
“Not in the slightest.”
Arthur had his car keys in his hand, flicking them about, “Come on, we’ve got a set to do. And by we; I mean you.”
X
Sufficiently full of food with that pleasant feeling in her stomach, Gwen stood and approached the dance floor, taking the microphone from where it had been set up for her, “Could I have everybody’s attention please?” the guests turned to look at her, all in high spirits, “Hi. A lot of you don’t know me. Hi to those who do, alright? As Elena’s Chief Bridesmaid it falls to me, apparently to give you some entertainment. Before I begin, though, if you could do me the favour of welcoming Mr and Mrs Castle to the floor.”
Gwen was nervous. Her best friend had trusted her with the task of playing their first song. She loved Elena dearly, she didn’t want to cock it up, “I’ve never played this song before this last week when they finally decided what they wanted, so it’s their fault if I don’t get it completely right,” Arthur, unlike the rest of the gathered crowd, knew that she had spent all her week practising the song. She’d performed it for him and the guys the night before just so she could get their verdict. They, of course, said it was perfect.
And they weren’t Bublé fans either.
“You're a falling star. You're the get away car. You're the line in the sand when I go too far,” Gwen hated doing covers, but at least the song as somewhat decent and she was doing it for Elena, who stood in the middle of the dance floor, jokingly dancing with Owaine. Neither of them was gifted when it came to timing or any skill in dance whatsoever, they saw it more as an opportunity to have a good time than be serious.
X
Arthur watched his roommates set from the bar that had been set up in the corner of the large marquee. He leant against it, slowly drinking from his beer bottle; “You’re Arthur,” he turned to see the lady in white. He smiled and held out his hand. She shook it gracefully.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” they both looked over to their mutual friend as she started on her last song, “Maybe you could convince her to take me up on my offer.”
“The deal?” Arthur nodded, “Keep trying, she’ll break eventually.”
“She is incredibly stubborn.”
“That’s Gwen for you. She’ll cave eventually. You’ll see.”
---
Part Two
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lance (o.O), Merlin, Morgana and introducing music sensation Caerleon (Members: Leon on Guitar, Gwaine on Bass and Percy on drums)
Warnings: Illusions of a sexual nature and language.
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: MA15
Summary: Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected of places, even when you don't want it.
Author Notes: Written for ella_rose88 and beta'd by sgmajorshipper. Yes, Caerleon are inspired by my boys (for those that don't follow my obsessions that would be McFly) and I'm not ashamed to admit it XD
My Merlin Prompt Table 2010 :: 2011
He first saw her on a Tuesday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. In it were a couple of home-made CDs and a scattering of coins that amounted to nothing more than a tenner. She had a pair of purple Doc Martens on her feet and daisies in her hair. She smiled as she sang and there was something about her that caught him.
He first spoke to her on a Thursday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. This time she had more money in it. As she sang a song she had written herself he smiled at her; “Nice voice.” She’d smiled at him and carried on singing as he walked away. She didn’t stop herself from watching him go.
He first insulted her on a Monday.
She was standing outside Waterstones with a guitar case at her feet. In it was a fiver along with a few small coins. She was certainly doing better for herself. He carried on down the street without so much as a care for putting money in the case himself; “Berk,” he heard her say as she finished playing her song.
He turned back around to see her crouched before her guitar case gathering the money into the storage pocket and laying her guitar into it. Her long brown curls fell in front of her face, she tucked them behind her ear and carried on packing away, “What did you say?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
“I called you a berk,” she said clearly looking up at him and smiling faux-sweetly. She had seen him watching her every other day for the last month. Each day he wore an expensive looking suit with an even more expensive looking watch and when the sun was out an unmistakable pair of high-end Ray Bans. He was by no means a poor man. You could tell that from looking at him and yet each day he’d walk away without so much as a penny dropped into her case.
He came back over to her now with an incredulous look on his face; “No wonder you have to trawl the streets for money,” he scoffed.
“Excuse me?”
“A word of advice, begging for money is unattractive.”
She laughed him off; “So is being an arsehole, but it’s not stopping you,” she snapped he guitar case shut and fastened the buckles with a practised speed, “Are you done? Only I have other places to be.”
“Like down by the river? Or are you going to Costa?” he asked her with a sting of sarcasm in his voice.
“What the fuck? Are you stalking me?” it was true enough, she spent a lot of time in the coffee shop and a lot of time down by the river working with the tourist crowds to earn herself more money.
“I’ve seen you around.”
“You’re fucking creepy,” she said turning away from him and heading in the other direction from both places he mentioned.
“See you around,” he said finally before walking away from her and down to the riverside.
“Hopefully not,” she rolled her eyes and picked up her pace. Maybe outside Waterstones wasn’t the best place for her anymore.
X
Wedding bells were in the air in the home of Guinevere Leodegrance. They weren’t for her; God help her if she found any man who wanted to marry her and she ever said yes. She wasn’t the marrying kind. She was more than happy to sit in her home studio recording without the pressure of having to cook or have a conversation with anybody who wasn’t Elena.
Or Elena’s fiancé.
He was a good man. He was good looking and kind-hearted and he was everything a man should be. Not to say he didn’t have his faults; he was incredibly lazy at times and refused point blank to clear up after himself but Elena’s need for clean was more than enough for the pair of them. No, Owaine wasn’t perfect, but he was close enough.
It all spurred Gwen to start looking elsewhere for somewhere to live. She’d been a third wheel for too long. She knew when to make herself scarce and now was the time for her to move out and move on. She needed a new chapter in her life just as Elena was starting hers.
“You don’t have to go,” Elena had tried to convince her. As nice though the sentiment was, Gwen had told her that yes, she really did. Now was the time if ever there was a better one.
Camelot Lane was one of those streets with really nice - read; incredibly expensive - houses on one end and your typical two-up-two-down houses on the other. A lot of them had been converted into flats but there was an occasional nice and incredibly expensive house that families lived in.
Gwen hadn’t expected her journey to number 237 to take her to the upmarket end. She’d been expecting a room in the side-of-the-road front-room-turned-bedroom in a house that had seen better days. But there she stood in front of number 237 and it certainly wasn’t a two-up-two-down.
There were five stories all in Bath Stone. Her jaw dropped.
Slowly she went up to the door and looked through the names on the numbers looking for ‘Flat 2: A. Pendragon’ which she found on the second buzzer up from the bottom. Tentatively she pressed the button. She didn’t know how she could even afford to live there yet from the ad in the paper it said that she could. It was probably a misprint; she thought now, but there was no harm in looking around.
It was all very Location, Location, Location. Only she was without Kirstie and Phil and TV cameras. For a brief moment it crossed her mind whether they would do ‘rooms to buy’ on the show but then she pressed the buzzer and all irrational thoughts let her mind and she was left thinking one thing; “What sort of pretentious name is Pendragon anyway?”
“Hello?” a deep, very male voice answered. She should have checked that really. Should she really be living with a guy with her track record? Potentially it would only end in hurt and homelessness and awkwardness.
“Hi? I’m Gwen, I’m here about the room?”
“Sure, come on up,” a harsh buzzing sounded and the lock on the door clicked open. Gwen nervously pushed into the building. The hallway wasn’t like any other block of flats she’d been in. It was clean and rather grand with an actual marble staircase.
“Wow,” she ran up the stairs as quickly as she could, finding Flat 2 on the first floor of the building. She knocked on the front door quickly three times and took a step back.
The door opened and she went to smile at her potential landlord come roommate but it fell flat on its face when she saw the very same blonde man from the street earlier. He smirked and laughed. At least somebody found it funny.
“Gwen?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice to meet you properly,” the pretentious name suddenly made a lot of sense. It fitted with his irksome personality and designer jogging bottoms and perfect hair despite being the evening after a long day.
“This is a really bad idea,” she said simply and turned away. There was no point looking around the place now. There was no chance she’d be able to put up with him. There was no other way to put it other than she already had an intense dislike for him. First impressions counted to Gwen.
“Not having a look around?” he said pointing over his shoulder into the flat. He wasn’t serious, was he? How could he be basically calling her a prostitute in the morning and now he was inviting her into his home as a potential housemate? He was truly insane.
“You basically called me a whore this morning… in what world would you think that I would ever consider living here with you?”
He shrugged, “It’s a nice place.”
“With an unfortunate owner,” she quipped.
He shook his head despairingly, “Look, Gwen, you don’t know me and I don’t know you-“
“Yet you still passed judgement about me and what I do.”
“I don’t think I’m wrong in thinking you’ve done the same about me. You think I’m a wanker with little respect for any one other than myself. I’m a material berk with too much confidence and too much money.”
“Basically.”
“Yet I have an ad in the paper looking for a roommate.”
“Another easy way to leech money from people-“
“Or I’m lonely. I bet that didn’t cross your mind. I could live here on my own, I don’t need the money, hell I don’t particularly want it. It’s not why I like my job. I just want somebody to talk to before I go to bed to have a cup of tea with or to talk to about my day.”
“Then get a girlfriend.”
“Not got the time. I’m a busy man, Gwen,” So busy that he could spend his time insulting her in the street, “but it would be nice not to come home to an empty house.”
“So I’ll be paying you to keep you company, a man, thus far, I don’t really like very much.”
“Just come in and have a look around. I’m hardly here. If you don’t want to spend evenings with me or whatever, you don’t have to. I’d still feel better knowing somebody was around.”
“You’re a confusing person, Mr Pendragon.”
“Arthur. My name’s Arthur.”
“Gwen,” she said for lack of something better and more intelligent.
“How about we forget about this morning, I give you a fiver to make up for the weeks I’ve not given you anything and you have a look around.”
“Make it a tenner and you’ve got a deal,” he pulled out his wallet and handed her the brown note. She took it holding it out at arms length and looked up at him through her partial frown, “I was joking.”
“I realise that,” he said with a soft smile as he leant against the wooden doorframe, “but I don’t have a fiver and it’s a bit rude to ask a busker for change.”
“I guess,” she folded the note and pushed it into her back pocket, “Thanks.”
He stood back from the door, opening it wider and giving her enough room to move past her, “Come on in. I’ll try not to insult you,” he said with a smile on his face as he ushered her through the door and closed it behind her.
“I’ll try and refrain from calling you names.”
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked as they walked into the main kitchen and living area. When she didn’t answer straight away he looked over his shoulder back at her. She was looking wide eyed around the room at the intricate ceiling details, “Gwen?” she blinked suddenly, coming back down to earth and hummed, “drink?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“Okay, so this is the living room, kitchen, dining room, games room, the every-activity-that’s-not for-the-bedroom-or-bathroom room.”
“And what about the ones that cross-over?” she asked without thinking about it. Her eyes widened, she was at a loss for words to explain herself.
“Stay out of the living area,” he said with an amused smirk, “don’t want to see it, don’t want to hear it,” he sounded like her father and her brother mixed into one. “Don’t hesitate to bring anyone back, should you move in, of course.”
“I don’t know why I said that,” she said honestly. He excused her and headed over to one of the three doors that lead off from the living area.
“This would be you,” Arthur announced as he pushed open a door to reveal a darkened room. He reached just inside and flicked the switch. It came alive, the light casting the most beautiful image into Gwen’s eyes. She could have sworn the entire room was bigger than Elena’s entire flat.
It was all feminine colours and patterned curtains. It was the sort of room that Gwen would decorate for herself. “You’re not expecting male company in a room like this, are you?” She could see it now, her keyboard in the corner, her music stand in the window with her studio in the other corner, keeping the bed where it was on the wall by the door.
“I’m not expecting anything,” he said upturning his bottom lip. In truth he hadn’t thought it through, he just wanted somebody to live with. It didn’t matter how many people you had around you every day or how much money to had, you couldn’t throw money at loneliness in hope that it would go away.
“It’s really nice,” she concluded still unable to form more words.
“Feel free to have a poke around. Anything you don’t like the look of just let me know,” he moved to leave her alone in the room, in hope that leaving her there would send her imagination into overdrive and she’d be unable to deny the opportunity.
“That assumes I want to stay.”
Arthur stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her, “You’re not running away screaming.”
“I have other, cheaper places to look at.”
“Name a price,” she would have laughed in his face but he looked so serious. He wasn’t joking.
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Gwen, I don’t need the money. You could live here for free and I wouldn’t really care.”
“I, really, can’t,” she raised her hands and walked out of the bedroom and towards the front door. She should have walked away the second he’d opened the door and she’d laid eyes on him. But now she’d see it she thought herself a fool to walk away from it. It was such a nice place and she had always wanted to live on a road like Camelot. It wasn’t fair.
“Think about it,” oh she was. Seriously thinking about it and she shouldn’t have been.
“I will. It’s a really nice place.”
Every other place had been a dive. She’d visited three other places that had been cheaper a month but hadn’t included the marble staircase or the undeniably good looking roommate. She’d been to places with damp and peeling wallpaper. She’d be a fool to turn down what Pendragon was offering her. She knew that.
Gwen waited until two evenings later before she picked up the phone and dialled his number; “Hello?”
“Arthur? It’s Gwen.”
“Gwen? Oh, hey,” he sounded distracted.
“Is this a good time? I can call back if you want?” she said fiddling with the arm of the sofa she sat on. She hated to interrupt but if she didn’t do this now she’d lose her nerve and call the woman from Southern Park and accept that hell hole.
“Now is good. Have you come to a conclusion?”
“It was a close call between your place and a place in Southern Park,” she said unable to keep the smile from her face. She could hear him laughing on the other end of the line.
“I bet it was,” she could hear the sheer amusement in his voice, “When can I expect you?”
“I didn’t say I’d chosen your place.”
“Yes you did. Nobody moves to Southern Park when they can live in Camelot Lane for free.”
“Stop fucking about,” It probably wasn’t the best way to speak to her future landlord, but if he was going to propose stupid ideas she had no qualms in telling her so, “I’m not living anywhere for free. I’d feel like a hermit.”
“We’ll sort something out. When are you moving in?”
“Next weekend?”
“Deal. I’ll even wrangle the guys to come and give us a hand.”
“The guys?” she suddenly had images of a troop of gangsters with guns straight from a 1950s movie in her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe they were spies; it would explain why he was so finely dressed and he always seemed to know where she’d been. Maybe she was the target and he was moving her in for ease. She shook the thought from her mind, it was absurd of course he wasn’t a spy.
“Don’t worry, they’re nice enough.”
Now she was worried. Now more than ever she thought it a truly terrible idea.
They bid their farewells and now it was too late to pull out. She had somewhere to live.
“Alright?” Elena greeted as she sat down on the other end of the sofa to her friend. She looked as if she had just come back from the gym. She was that sort of women who went down to the ‘club’ ad ran on a treadmill for an hour, came home and still looked perfect. The worst thing was, Gwen couldn’t even bring herself to hate her for it. She was her best friend and it was because of her that she still had somewhere to live.
“All sorted,” Elena held out the box of chocolates she had brought in with her letting Gwen have first pick. She went for the coffee cream that she knew Elena hated.
“You don’t have to go.”
“We’ve been over this. I do. You and Owaine need space to make your perfect Little Elena and Owaine Junior. Besides, I’ve found a place on Camelot.”
“Camelot?” her jaw dropped and her eyebrows shot up into her hair line, “How expensive is that?”
“Oddly, not very.”
“What’s the catch?” Elena asked suddenly very aware that her friend was likely to be taken for a ride.
“No catch. That or he wants to sleep with me.”
“He?”
“Mm, Arthur Pendragon,” she laughed at the name again, “Ridiculous right?” the blonde on the other end of the sofa smiled at her friend’s amusement. She didn’t bring up the one piece of information she knew about Arthur Pendragon.
X
The next Saturday morning Gwen rocked up in her slowly breaking car with her boxes of belongings. Mostly the boxes were full of guitar tabs, piano books and musical equipment. At least she knew that it would all fit in her room. She was saving up to buy a proper piano but she doubted that would fit. Maybe Arthur would be kind enough to let her put it in the living area. That was plenty big enough.
She had a suitcase full of clothes in addition to her other belongings, her computer system and person studio set up that she recorded her CDs with and that was it. She could be perfectly contained in one room.
Gwen locked her car and made her way to the front door and rang the bell.
“Yello?” a voice with an unknown accent answered.
“Hi, I’m Gwen?” she said nervously, “I’ve got my stuff.”
“Gwen!” the voice replied cheerily and the buzzer sounded and the lock clicked unlocked. More nervous than she had been the first time she’d come around Gwen pushed through the front door of the building and up the marble staircase slowly.
When she reached the front door it was ajar. She knocked tentatively on the door and pushed through, “Hello?” she took a small step into the apartment only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw who she assumed had let her in, “Your…” she opened her mouth to speak but no more words came.
“Gwaine, hello,” he waved.
“Hi,” well this was embarrassing. She remained rooted to the spot. Even with her head telling her feet to move they wouldn’t co-operate.
Gwaine was part of a group, a band called Caerleon. A band who had been around for the last eight years; since she was a teenager. They weren’t that much older than her. She’d always been jealous of how early in their lives they’d found success. That hadn’t stopped her from seeing them on tour, owning all their CDs and having pin-ups of them on her walls when she was still living with her Dad.
“You okay?” he asked with a look of concern.
“Fine,” she said her voice an octave higher than normal, “It’s not every day you come across one of your childhood posters in the flesh,” she admitted before she’d processed the thought, “You didn’t need to know that.”
He flashed his trademark grin. One she had seen so many times over the years but hadn’t ever been so close to before or on the receiving end of. He held out his hand for her to shake. She stared at it for a second before he reached out and took her hand from her side and shook it, “He said you were nice, he left out all sorts of adorable,” Gwen stared at him with eyes wide, dropping her hand back to her side when he let go, “Sorry.”
“This is surreal. Why- why are you here?”
“Arthur asked me to help out. Leon and Perce too,” the other two members of the band were there too? What was this? Some sort of weird deluded joke? Were there TV cameras further in the flat ready to jump out at her?
“Uh huh,” he grinned at her. He was used to reactions like Gwen’s. Though most of the time it was from people expecting him to be there. Not somebody who had just walked in on him in her new apartment.
“Come on, the sooner we get your stuff in the soon we can get you settled,” he grabbed her hand and started to lead her back out the door. He put the latch on and dragged her down the stairs. She nearly stumbled down the first few steps but righted herself, “Arthur’s in charge of our record company,” he said by way of explanation, “His sister is our manager and his mate Merlin is our producer.”
“Uh huh,” she gave him the keys to her car and he unlocked it with ease, faster than she would have been able to; fumbling with the keys. He opened the boot and scanned her boxes that were all labelled; the ones on top were open and overflowing with her sheet music.
“I see you’re musically inclined,” he said grabbing her guitar case and looping the long handle over his shoulder. He pulled out a couple of the boxes and set them on the pavement outside the house.
“Uh huh.”
“Arthur said you busked? You’ll have to play us something sometime.”
“Uh huh.”
“Gwen?”
“Mmm?” she turned around to see Arthur emerging from the front door of the main house with two others that she immediately recognised. Surreal, that was exactly the word for it. Utterly surreal and definitely not a spy. She didn’t know which she would have preferred.
“I see you met Gwaine. This is Leon and-“
“Percy,” she finished with her cheeks burning red.
“A fan then?” the taller man said with a sharp smile on his face. His t-shirt had the sleeves ripped off, showing off his muscular arms for the world to see. The world; and Gwen.
“Since I was thirteen.” She said quietly looking at the floor. She should learn to shut up, act cool and pretend that she had no idea who they were. She could have played the cards correctly and really gone to town with them. It would have been amazing and not awkward like she was at the present moment.
“She’s got our sheet music and everything!” Gwaine announced with the box of books in his hands, “Can you play them?”
“Mostly,” there she was again divulging everything.
“I’m impressed,” the smile on his face matched his words. He must be used to people having these things and not being able to follow through. She admired their melodies and their lyrical structures. She’d damn near studied them for the better part of her teenage years. Some of them were committed to memory for life.
“You should play something for us later.”
“Mmhmm, what, no. No, no, no, no. I couldn’t do that.”
“She’s being modest; she’s got a good voice.”
“Bring her to the studio,” Percy said grabbing one of the larger boxes. The muscles in his arms were bigger than Gwen remembered from when she’d last seen them play a show two years previously. Being the drummer had really put him into shape.
“Guitar or bass?” Gwaine asked pointing to the case on his arm.
“Guitar and piano.”
“Pfft, bloody guitarists,” he shrugged the strap off and handed it to Leon who shook his head at his friend.
“Ignore him. He gets over it and his less loved instrument,” Gwaine narrowed his eyes at his friend and grabbed a box and carried it back into the house, “Nice to meet you, Gwen.”
X
A sunny day in June saw all the tourists coming out to play in the city. Tourists usually meant better tips. They didn’t understand the money and they never knew how much they were giving and ended up leaving ten pound notes, thinking it was small change. Gwen always felt a little bad, but she was always in the middle of singing something when they walked off again.
She had set up herself in her room with her make-shift studio in one corner with her instruments and musical technologies. The rest of her room she had dedicated to her bed and small TV/DVD combo. She hated to get in Arthur’s hair in the evenings watching the trash she found entertaining on the freeview channels. She’d gotten into the habit of cooking in the evenings and eating with Arthur at the dining room table on some nights when he was home at a respectable time from the studio. A lot of the time he wouldn’t get back until gone ten, and if she waited that long she’d eat her own arm in hunger. Those nights she left him a plate of whatever for him to heat up.
A small group of tourists were stood watching her as she finished her last song. One came over and dropped in a few pound coins. Another put in a five pound note and picked up a copy of her CD to keep. She thanked them. It had been a successful day. She pooled her money into the small compartment in the case and laid her guitar flat in the box only to have a hand pick it back out; “You’re not going anywhere yet,” she looked up to argue and came face to face with Gwaine, who smiled down at her.
“I’ve been here for half an hour; I’ve got to move on. That’s part of the deal.”
“Not with three new band members you don’t. One more song,” one girl who was just been walking past them squeaked, “Alright,” he greeted. She fumbled about in her pocket and pulled out her phone.
“Could I get a picture?”
“Sure, guys?” he beckoned Leon and Percy to him who were busy setting up the other instruments.
“I’ll take it,” Gwen offered. The girl’s hands were shaking slightly. She stood between Gwaine and Leon with Percy standing head and shoulders taller than her behind her, “There you go.”
“Thanks,” she was still shaking, “thank you.”
“No worries,” Leon smiled as he plugged his keyboard into the power supply, “Impromptu show in about a minute if you want to watch,” he said with a kind smile. He clicked in a microphone to the stand and laced the cable into the back of the keyboard. The girl smiled nervously and headed over to the nearby bench.
“Ready guys?” Percy asked with his solo tom drum looped around his neck with a pair of drum sticks in his hands, “Take it away.”
“What are we playing?”
“Something I think you might recognise,” Gwaine smiled as he picked up the bass line. Leon started to sing as he played accompanying chords on the keyboard. Gwen’s jaw dropped and she grinned. It was her song. She mentally counted herself in and started to strum along. At the chorus Leon nodded at her and she took over the vocals from him.
The boys alone had drawn a crowd to them. It was her biggest still audience in one go and there was something a little off-putting about that. That, and she was in the middle of the street singing with Caerleon. It was crazy.
“Yeah, not bad,” Gwaine concluded as they played out the rest of the song at the end. A grin split across his face, “Not bad at all.”
“He could get you in the studio, you know,” Percy said with a shrug as they finished their song. They all seemed so immune to the round of applause.
“I don’t want a favour,” Gwen said honesty as she laid her guitar back in its case.
“It wouldn’t be one. You deserve to get in there,” he said with all sincerity, pulling her in for a quick hug. It was still weird to her that they could be this friendly with her. She’d known them all a month now, and as little as it meant to them, after eight years of admiring from afar, being within their ‘circle’ was just a little strange.
“We should scram, guys. Crowd’s building,” Leon said indicating towards the growing congregation with his head, “Nice playing with you, Gwen.”
X
“I can’t believe you guys did that,” Gwen said in awe as they sat around the kitchen table with empty plates.
“No, neither can I,” Arthur said with a slight scowl. Apparently, they were meant to be in a meeting about the up coming tour. Not gallivanting in the streets with a busker.
“Gotta let loose occasionally,” Gwaine shrugged, and raised his beer bottle at him. Arthur rolled his eyes. He understood where they were coming from, but this meeting had been hard enough to schedule as it was, he didn’t need the hassle of rearranging it, but now, thanks to them, he had to do just that all because they wanted a little jam session in the middle of the city. The internet had gone crazy about it. Who was this girl they’d picked up and what made her so special?
The answer? She lived with the CEO of the record label and now there was all sorts of hoo-hah about it all.
Arthur could deal with the cameras following the lads to his house. He didn’t mind all so much when they had disappointment all over his face when it was only him that emerged after they had been seen entering the house. But before they had seen this ‘random girl’ and thought nothing of her, now they would be looking for any sign or reason to have her in these trashy magazines. None of them had thought it through.
He’d already been bombarded on social networking about a certain picture of his bassist and this random newcomer. The gossip websites had already picked up on it and were running with stories of wild romances and avid affairs. Who was this girl? They all wanted to know, and soon they’d know she lived there. With Arthur. It was bound to raise a few eyebrows.
“Be more careful about it in future,” he said, flicking the printed out article onto the table. He knew these guys well, he knew they wouldn’t want to jeopardise any part of their careers. It had been a big enough hassle to deal with the nastiness that spread about Percy’s long-term girlfriend back in the days when she’d first been found out. Arthur hadn’t been in charge then, but he had more than witnessed the trouble it caused for the label. Morgause had a lot to cover up and had eventually quit, leaving her position to Morgana.
Gwen choked on her drink and laughed, “They can’t be serious.”
“Apparently they can.”
“Nobody actually believes what they read in these magazines.”
“The point is these guys need to be more careful.”
“It was a hug, it wasn’t anything untoward.”
Gwaine cleared his throat and Arthur glared at him. Gwaine smiled gladly at him. Whatever it was, Gwen wasn’t in on it.
“Annnywaay,” she elongated as she looked between them, “Nothing’s going on. They can bullshit all they want. Doesn’t make it real.”
“Quite,” Arthur cleared his throat and ripped up the piece of paper and threw it in the general direction of the bin, “Doesn’t explain why you guys were there,” Gwaine went to speak but Arthur held up his hand to silence him, “Tell me ‘bit of fun’ and I will run you through with my pen,” Gwaine shut his mouth again and shirked backwards into his chair.
“We just wanted to prove that Gwen should be in the studio.”
“By blowing off a meeting?”
“It’s not like we do anything. It’s all Morgana anyway. She can just relay the information to us. What difference does it make?”
“Why do I even bother?”
“Dunno, not like you’re in charge of us anyway,” Gwaine retorted with a grin on his face. Arthur considered his statement for all of a second. He was right and he knew it. Sometimes he didn’t know why he bothered. They were mostly unresponsive to him. Morgana was the one with the knack for scaring them into doing what she wanted them to. She had this mean glare that silenced them straight away.
“You guys have got to start taking this all more seriously.”
“Arthur, we’ve been doing this for eight years, I think we know what works by now,” Gwaine said with a sarcastic glint in his eyes.
Arthur rolled his eyes at him again; “You know what I mean.”
X
Gwen held the tea towel in her hand and waited for Arthur to finish washing the last plate so she could dry it. She liked this arrangement very much. If there was one thing she hated doing, especially after cooking, it was washing up. So whenever Arthur offered to actually do the chore, she always felt as if she should at least help.
“You know, the guys have a point,” Arthur said randomly after they had silently worked their way through all of the washing up.
Gwen looked up at him, leaning back against the kitchen counter, “About what?”
“The deal. I can talk to Morgana. See what she says.”
“No,” Gwen said straight away. She didn’t want their help. She had battled through the first stage on her own. She had a small crowd, and there was a small section about her on Wikipedia now. She felt like she was headed in the right direction. She just needed to get a website and start uploading music to it. Network herself. Maybe she could get a video camera and upload videos to youtube of her playing her songs. A lot of people became famous that way, she knew. But then, she had no idea where the hell to start, “I don’t want your help, Arthur. That’s not why I’m living here,” she said as he handed her the last plate finally.
“I’m not saying it is. You had no idea who I was until you moved in. I think I can safely say you’re not using me for a contract.”
“The guys are great, ad I appreciate what they want to do for me. And they are raising my profile by doing these things. I went online earlier, I looked for myself. People are already talking about it and nobody knows my name. But they know I exist.”
“That’s a start,” Arthur said with a smile on his face. He knew he had overreacted earlier. But if she did end up working with their label, it would be better for them if she didn’t have this sordid reputation to shake before she’d even started. It didn’t help that that morning she had been wearing an extra-large t-shirt and not a lot else as she’d reached for a mug from the top cupboard as he had walked out of his room to go to the bathroom to shower. He had been more than distracted. She didn’t know he was watching and it may have ridden up more tan, enough to show him her lilac underwear. Never had he felt more of a pervert in his life. He’d told himself then he wasn’t going to make a habit out of it.
“Yeah, it is. I even have a gig next week,” she said with a proud smile on her face. It was only in a pub that she had become a regular of over the years. A month ago they had heard her singing to herself and asked her if she played. It had taken them another month to get hold of her, “A proper gig. With a stage and people. People paying to see me,” she beamed as she put the plate away in the cupboard, “Which, by the way, you have to come too.”
“Do I now?”
“Yes. You should meet Elena before her wedding,” she said. Elena had given Gwen a plus one on her invitation but everybody Gwen knew was already going. If she didn’t invite Arthur she’d only have three other people to ask but they were far too busy and far too important to go, plus it was meant to be Elena’s day, she’d never forgive Gwen if all the attention was taken away from her for a jazzed up boy band, “She also wants me to play at her wedding.”
“But?”
“I’m not sure I want to,” Gwen shrugged, “I just want to have a good time.”
“You could do a half-hour set near the beginning of the reception,” Arthur said, his industry mind clicking into place quickly, “and then get needlessly drunk.”
“I just don’t like playing covers all the time,” Gwen said, something in her voice resembled a whine and Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle, “And it won’t be any good for anybody if they can’t sing along.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“But true.”
“Well, you got to start somewhere.”
“Which is what this gig is. The place only seats like thirty people and I’d like it if you were there. That’s all.”
Arthur agreed to go. It wouldn’t hurt and it would be interesting to see her in a different setting rather than outside of Waterstones like he was accustomed too. “Maybe I could bring Morgana.”
“No, Arthur. This isn’t me indirectly letting you set me up with a deal.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Arthur defended, “It’s the sort of thing that Morgana likes. Plus, I think she’ll like you for you. She wants to meet the new woman I have in my life.”
Gwen’s brow furrowed, “What have you told her about me?”
“Other than you are incredibly sexy and willing to do whatever I ask whenever I ask and you are incredibly inventive,” she hit him on the chest with the wet tea towel, “I told her you hated me and she wants to meet you. Anybody who hates me tends to be good friends with her.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“At the time you did,” her cheeks dusted pink and she looked to the floor, “The other option will come around eventually.”
“Gwen Leodegrance; Arthur Pendragon’s kinky sexy slave? I can see the records selling now. The country likes a scandal.”
“People don’t care enough about me for it to be a scandal.”
“It’s a scandal if I’m already dating a third of the country’s favourite boy band.”
“Gwaine’ would lynch you if he heard you call them that,” Arthur laughed. For so many years they had been branded as a boy band, despite playing their own instruments and writing their own material. They only settled the argument when people said that they only got called a boy band because they were only boys.
“That’s what they were when I was thirteen. Don’t deny it.”
“They’ve rebranded.”
“I’m sure they have,” the debate over, she raised the issue of her gig again, “You’ll come then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
X
The pub was one of those places that Arthur had never been in before and would probably never enter into again. Morgana sat next to him at the table, facing the small stage, ready for the performance to start. She looked around at the table in disgust, gently wiping her elbows of any dirt she might have procured from it; “I understand that you dig this act, Arthur, but why have you dragged me to this hole?”
“Because she didn’t want me to introduce you.”
“So I’m here because?”
“The second you hear her voice you’ll want her on your label.”
“Your label.”
“My label. Under your management,” he reasoned and she accepted it without further protest, “She doesn’t want a favour. She’s been working for this for years and doesn’t want a hand out.”
“And she won’t see this as one?”
“There is only one way to be sure of that completely.”
“She better be all that, Arthur, otherwise I swear to god I will pepper spray you.”
“There she is,” he pointed her out standing on the edge of the stage talking to the tech who was holding out her guitar to her.
“All that’s coming to mind is ‘Taylor’ and ‘Swift’.”
“Just wait, she’ll show you what she’s made of.”
The noise in the pub didn’t die down as she took to the microphone. She didn’t introduce herself just started to strum out one of her own songs. She found Arthur in the crowd and smiled at him, he nodded at her encouragingly and waited for Morgana’s reaction as his new roommate opened her mouth to sing.
“Different walks of life, lead us down a dangerous line,” she started. Morgana didn’t look moved. Her expression didn’t change, “But take my hand and lead me on, prove to me I’m not alone.”
She carried on singing and playing. A small smile was tugging at Morgana’s lips. That was a good sign.
X
Gwen finished her forty-minute set with minimal chat to the crowd. They responded positively to her songs and to her but there was one person still a little frosty towards her.
Morgana approached her without Arthur as she packed her own stuff away, “Gwen, is it?”
“Hi?”
“Morgana, I’m-“
“Arthur’s sister,” Gwen finished for her recognising her finally from the few pictures dotted around Arthur’s flat. She held out her hand for Morgana to shake. The elder woman gladly accepted the gestured and took her hand warmly.
“That’s me,” she said with a smile, “You were good,” she concluded.
“Thanks.”
“We’ve been looking for an act like you.”
“I don’t want a favour,” Gwen replied quickly. She shook her head; she shot a look over Morgana’s shoulder at her roommate and narrowed her eyes.
“This isn’t a favour.”
“I know why Arthur brought you here. I might be completely broke and busking on the streets, but I don’t need to be handed things on a platter. I’d rather work for it.”
“Which you have; for many years.”
“I’m sorry, thank you for the offer, but I don’t need Arthur’s help.”
“It’s not Arthur’s help. It’s mine.”
“In any case, thanks but no thanks.”
X
Gwen slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter. They’d been shouting at each other for a good twenty minutes and now she was just getting more annoyed, “You don’t understand, do you? I don’t want a favour, Arthur!” she shouted at him across the counter partition between them, “Just because you’re in the music industry doesn’t mean I’m going to use your company to open the door for me!”
“Why not?” she was so confusing to him. Surely she was fed up of trudging her way through a world that she could get an easy pass for, “I’ve watched you for a long time, you’re good at what you do, let me give you a break! You deserve to have it. That’s what this industry is about; lucky breaks.”
“No, it’s not all about that,” Gwen argued back pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “It’s about hard work, hard graft.”
“You’ve put that in, not it’s time to move on up.”
“Not with your company. I don’t need a favour!”
“Well you’re not going to make it otherwise! Do you know how many bands try and make it and fail? I’m giving you want you need, take it or leave it. But if you leave it, you’ll never have it!”
Had there not been a kitchen counter between them she would have slapped him, “Just how much of an idiot do you think I am? I know it’s hard. But if I’m going to make it I’ll do it on my own. I don’t want your help. And if that’s what you think of me, then I might as well go. I’m not staying where I’m going to be looked down on every day.”
X
Gwen had had more than enough of him and his insistence that without his help she would get nowhere. She had the talent; she would get the break she needed without him and without a clapped out television show. She still had her boxes piled in the bottom of her wardrobe. She pulled them out in her anger ad started to take the clothes from her wardrobe, throwing them in haphazardly.
Arthur appeared at the door a while later as she was starting to pack her smaller knickknacks into a box. He crossed the room without a word and looked into the box.
“Screw you. Screw your fucking flat and your fucking job,” Gwen said loudly as she piled her books into a box. Arthur didn’t say anything, but started to pull the piles of belongings out of the box and put them back on the shelves, “Fuck off!”
“No,” he said defiantly and picked her clothes out of the box and threw them onto her bed.
“Just leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”
“I’m not helping you,” he pointed out as he emptied the box out onto the floor childishly.
“Clearly!” she shouted and started to pile the clothes messily back into the box again. Arthur took them out as she put them in, sitting next to the box. Gwen moved it but Arthur followed it and pulled it away as she went to put another pile of clothes back in it. She scowled at him, “Why won’t you let me leave?”
Arthur looked at her. He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth, “Because since you moved in it’s like some void in my life has been filled,” he said truthfully. He wrapped his arms around his knees. Something about him was different, he was undoubtedly more casual but he seemed comfortable for the first time since she’d met him.
“All we do is argue,” she reasoned as she sat amidst a large pile of her clothes.
“Maybe that’s what I needed,” he said. He reached out and placed a friendly hand on her knee, running his thumb over the material of her jeans.
“I don’t want your help.”
“I know.”
“Promise to stop trying to make me take it?”
“I promise. But if the boys get on my case you have to stand up for me,” he said gently poking her in the arm. She smiled, “Deal?” he held out his hand.
“Deal,” she shook it firmly. His fingers lingered with her own for a fraction longer than they should have but her smile didn’t falter or leave her face, “Are you going to help me with all this?” she asked gesturing to the pile of clothes that surrounded them
“I thought you didn’t want my help,” he said cheekily. Gwen raised her eyebrows and moved to put the clothes in the box again, “Okay, okay!” he pulled back on her hands and forced her back to sit against the heels of her feet, “Stay put.”
X
Rice was thrown high into the sky, causing a chorus of squeals from the gathered crowd below as the grains rockets back to the floor. With her fingers tightly clad around her husband’s, Elena grinned, looking around at her friends.
She reached her three bridesmaids, she hugged and kissed both Sophia and Vivian, then she reached her Chief Bridesmaid and ex-housemate and pulled her into a tighter hug; “Thank you so much.”
“You look stunning. Both of you do. I know he’s going to make you happy,” with one final squeeze Elena let go, “Go on, we all want to know who catches it.”
“Viv or Soph?”
“I’m coming down on the side of Vivian,” Gwen said smiling at their friend who beamed at them Sophia just laughed, shaking her head at their predictable friend.
Elena emerged from the crowd and kept her back to them, “Ready?” a chorus of yeses answered her. She launched her bouquet over her shoulder. There was a shrill burst of screams as a few of the female members of the crowd launched forwards to grab it. Gwen hot-tailed it away from them and to the back of the gathering of people and her other friend and personal guest.
“Didn’t want the bouquet?” he jested looking dapper in one of his high-end suits and half unbuttoned shirt.
“I’m in no rush to be the next one to be married,” she said with a smile.
“YES!” both of them looked around to see Vivian standing victorious with the bouquet above her head.
Elena caught Gwen’s eye and smiled at her. Gwen waved at her married friend as she climbed into the back of their wedding car with her husband.
“Not the marrying kind?” Arthur enquired as the car pulled away and left the guests waving after it.
“Not in the slightest.”
Arthur had his car keys in his hand, flicking them about, “Come on, we’ve got a set to do. And by we; I mean you.”
X
Sufficiently full of food with that pleasant feeling in her stomach, Gwen stood and approached the dance floor, taking the microphone from where it had been set up for her, “Could I have everybody’s attention please?” the guests turned to look at her, all in high spirits, “Hi. A lot of you don’t know me. Hi to those who do, alright? As Elena’s Chief Bridesmaid it falls to me, apparently to give you some entertainment. Before I begin, though, if you could do me the favour of welcoming Mr and Mrs Castle to the floor.”
Gwen was nervous. Her best friend had trusted her with the task of playing their first song. She loved Elena dearly, she didn’t want to cock it up, “I’ve never played this song before this last week when they finally decided what they wanted, so it’s their fault if I don’t get it completely right,” Arthur, unlike the rest of the gathered crowd, knew that she had spent all her week practising the song. She’d performed it for him and the guys the night before just so she could get their verdict. They, of course, said it was perfect.
And they weren’t Bublé fans either.
“You're a falling star. You're the get away car. You're the line in the sand when I go too far,” Gwen hated doing covers, but at least the song as somewhat decent and she was doing it for Elena, who stood in the middle of the dance floor, jokingly dancing with Owaine. Neither of them was gifted when it came to timing or any skill in dance whatsoever, they saw it more as an opportunity to have a good time than be serious.
X
Arthur watched his roommates set from the bar that had been set up in the corner of the large marquee. He leant against it, slowly drinking from his beer bottle; “You’re Arthur,” he turned to see the lady in white. He smiled and held out his hand. She shook it gracefully.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” they both looked over to their mutual friend as she started on her last song, “Maybe you could convince her to take me up on my offer.”
“The deal?” Arthur nodded, “Keep trying, she’ll break eventually.”
“She is incredibly stubborn.”
“That’s Gwen for you. She’ll cave eventually. You’ll see.”
---
Part Two