Part 60: link


    “I don’t like this,” Arthur says as they drive to the Manor.
    “Don’t like what?”
    “You staying over night here, while I have to be back at the flat. Alone.”
    “You know the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride on the jour of the wedding before the actual wedding.”
    “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
    “Love, there’s nothing I would like plus than to spend the night sleeping in your arms, but it’s just not going to happen. Even if I wanted to break the tradition, I don’t think Morgana would let me,” she laughs. “She’s fanatically superstitious, toi know.”
    He pulls into the drive and he carries Gwen’s bags as they walk to the house.
    “Hello?” he calls, looking around. The parlor is completely empty, save the piano in the corner. “Father? Leah?”
    “Arthur,” Uther emerges from the sunroom in back. “Hello, Gwen, lovely to see you, dear,” he comes and kisses her cheek.
    “Mr. Pendragon, what’s happened to your furniture?” she asks, expressing the thought on both hers and Arthur’s minds.
    “It’s in storage. Needed the room for the reception, and I’m moving soon anyway. Some things, pieces I’m leaving for you, are in other rooms temporarily. And the piano obviously needs to stay here.”
    “That makes sense, actually,” Arthur says.
    “Gwen, feel free to use any room. Except mine,” he jokes.
    “And toi probably could have that if toi asked him,” Arthur rolls his eyes.
    Uther considers this. “Probably,” he grins.
    “I know exactly which room I want to sleep in tonight,” she says, and leads the way up to Arthur’s old bedroom.
    They drop her things in Arthur’s room and head back down to say hello to Leah and her sister Tess as they start getting things prepared for tomorrow. Tess conveniently owns a catering company and will have a full staff working for them tomorrow.
    “Everything looks wonderful so far,” Gwen says, and Leah turns.
    “Hello!” Leah comes over and hugs them both. “Are toi getting excited? I know I am!”
    “Leah, toi sound like you’re seventeen,” Tess teases her, smiling at Arthur and Gwen.
    They chuckle warmly at the housekeeper’s giddiness. “Yes, it hardly seems possible,” Gwen says. Arthur reaches for her hand.
    “What time is everyone else coming tonight?” Gwen asks Arthur as they walk back out.
    “Not for another half an hour. Why?”
    “I want to give toi your present.”
    “My present?”
    “Yes, your wedding present. From me to you.”
    “But…”
    “No buts. You’ll understand why when toi see it.”
    “But I don’t have yours with me.”
    “That doesn’t matter.”
    “It does to me.”
    “Arthur,” she stops. She leans up and kisses him, her hands on his chest. “Just let me give toi your damn gift, all right?”
    “Mmm,” he opens his eyes slowly and gazes down at her. “How can I refuse toi anything?”
    She smiles and takes his hand, pulling him towards his room. “Sit,” she commands, and he plops down on his old bed.
    She digs into her bag and pulls out a small square box, about the size of a grapefruit. He takes it, and contemplates it a minute before peeling back the paper.
    Gwen sits suivant to him on the bed, watching excitedly, her hands clasped in front of her mouth. I hope he likes it.
    He removes the paper and opens the box to reveal a beautiful Cartier watch, unlike one he has ever seen before. The face is bright red and just below the center is a small or dragon matching the one on the Pendragon manteau of arms hanging in the foyer downstairs.
    “Guinevere, this is… amazing. Did toi have this made for me?” he whispers, very impressed and incredibly touched.
    “Of course. Do toi like it?”
    “I l’amour it. It’s beautiful.” He takes it out of the box and holds it in his hand, for closer inspection.
    “Turn it over,” she says.
    He does. Inscribed in the back are the words Forever, again and again. I l’amour you, Guinevere.
    “Thank you. I… don’t know what to say. Thank you,” he says, his eyes misting slightly. She smiles and kisses him gently.
    “Well, I couldn’t have toi wearing that ratty thing for our wedding,” she points at the watch on his wrist. The leather band is starting to crack and the crystal is scratched.
    He laughs and says, “Well, I’ll still wear this one for work, obviously.”
    “Probably a good idea,” she smiles again. He contemplates her lovely face a moment before he leans over to Kiss her, pressing her back onto the bed, his hand on the side of her neck, tongue sliding into her mouth. She kisses him back longingly, her hands moving into his hair, holding him to her.
    He leaves her lips to nibble her ear and Kiss down the side of her neck.
    “Arthur,” she says.
    “Hmm,” he vaguely replies.
    “The… door’s open… and… your father’s… downstairs,” she gasps.
    “I know,” he says softly into her ear, “that’s the only reason you’re still dressed.”
    This brings a burst of laughter from Gwen, which Arthur promptly kisses into silence, his hand sliding down to her waist, around beneath her, holding her.
    Just then there is a polite throat-clearing and a soft knock at the door. Arthur’s shoulders droop and he sits back. “Yes, Father?”
    “Just thought you’d like to know that Gwen’s father is here,” Uther says.
    Gwen sits up, blushing, and notices that Uther actually looks rather amused.
    “Father, look at this,” Arthur hops up and shows him the watch.
    “Very nice,” he nods. “It turned out quite well, Gwen.”
    “You knew?” Arthur is flabbergasted.
    “Well, yes, from whom do toi think she got the image of the dragon?” Uther chuckles and walks away down the hall.

    A few minutes later Arthur and Gwen come down the stairs. “Hi, Dad,” Gwen says, smoothing her hair surreptitiously.
    “Guinevere, you’re looking lovely as always,” Tom says, but he doesn’t move.
    “Dad?” she asks, walking toward him.
    “I have a surprise for you,” he says, then steps aside to reveal a shorter, older man, very distinguished-looking with snow-white hair and a goatee.
    “Granddad!” Gwen exclaims, running to hug her grandfather.
    “En Español, por favor,” he says, a twinkle in his eye.
    “¡Abuelito!” she obliges.
    “Muy bien, Chiquita,” he says, hugging her again and s’embrasser her cheek.
    “Arthur,” Gwen turns to him, “this is my grandfather, Robert Grayson. My mother’s father, obviously. He’s been retired in Ibiza for several years now. I wasn’t sure if he’d make the trip over ou not.”
    “I wouldn’t miss it, Gwennie,” Robert says, eyes twinkling at her.
    “Granddad, this is Arthur.”
    “Very pleased to meet you, sir,” Arthur says, shaking the man’s hand.
    “Nice to meet you, Arthur. I expect you’ll take good care of my Chiquita, yes?”
    “It’s my favori thing to do, sir,” Arthur smiles, wrapping his arm around Gwen’s shoulders.
    “He’s a good man, Bob,” Tom says. “He’s already been donné the third degree par Elliot and me.”
    “And a few others, actually,” Arthur laughs.
    “Well, good,” he nods.
    “So, what’s the plan?” Tom asks.
    “Um, we wait for the others to arrive and go through the ceremony,” Gwen says.
    “Sounds exciting. And dîner after?” Robert asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
    “We really don’t have anything planned, actually. But I was thinking we could all go and take over Great mur and gorge ourselves on Chinese food,” she grins.
    “Ooo, sounds good to me,” Arthur says.
    “Very well, then. I’ll make sure to call ahead before we go, then, so they can have a table, tableau ready,” Uther says. The doorbell rings again, and Arthur opens the door.
    Morgana walks in, carrying a small valise. She is followed par Wayne, who is carrying three other large pieces of luggage.
    “Moving in?” Arthur laughs.
    “Well, I’m doing everyone’s hair and makeup tomorrow, so I need my supplies,” Morgana explains.
    “Everyone’s?” Arthur asks, smirking.
    “If toi want a touch of mascara and gloss, I’d be happy to oblige,” she says, patting his cheek. She turns and sees Gwen’s father and grandfather. “Pops! Granddad!” she exclaims and runs to hug them both.
    She holds Tom at arm’s length and declares, “You’ve Lost some weight! Good for you!”
    “Thank toi for noticing, Morgana,” Tom says, giving Gwen a look over Morgana’s shoulder. She sticks her tongue out at him.
    “When did toi get in?” she says to Robert.
    “This afternoon, dear. Thanks for keeping me secret,” he winks playfully at her.
    “Anything for you, toi know that,” she says, smiling at him. “Oh, this is Wayne,” she introduces them. “Wayne, this is Gwen’s dad Tom, and her grandfather Robert.”
    “Nice to meet toi both,” he says, trying unsuccessfully to hide his confusion as he attempts to connect the branches of the family tree.
    “He’s my father-in-law,” Tom explains, laughing.
    “Oh! Yes. Of course, sorry,” Wayne says.
    “Arthur, would toi montrer Morgana to a room? She’ll probably want to be near Gwen,” Uther says.
    “Thank you, Mr. P.,” Morgana says and she and Wayne follow Arthur upstairs.
    Mr. P.? Arthur thinks, shaking his head.
    Freya, Merlin, and Helena arrive next, and when the trio returns to the main floor, the parlor is busy with conversation and laughter. Arthur immediately goes to hug Merlin’s mother and introduces her to Tom and Robert.
    “I hope toi don’t mind me crashing the rehearsal, Arthur,” she says. “It’s not every jour that my two favori boys are a groom and best man, toi know.”
    “Of course not! Hopefully it’ll happen again soon, too,” he says, directing his eyes toward Merlin and Freya.
    “Not at the speed that one moves,” she grins, rolling her eyes, and they laugh.
    The vicar rings next, Reverend Geoffrey. He greets Gwen and Arthur warmly and plus introductions are made. He’s known Gwen since she was a girl, and he’s gotten to know Arthur quite well this past mois during their meetings with him.
    People start looking at their watches. Elliot is late. No one is surprised.
    Gwen sighs, pulls out her mobile, and calls him. Having learned his lesson, he actually answers.
    “I’m on my way, I promise,” he says immediately.
    “Where are toi exactly?”
    “Um… walking to my car.”
    “Elliot!”
    “Sorry, Gwen, I Lost track of time at the gym.”
    “Just get here. toi know the way?”
    “I think so.”
    “Hold on.” She hands the phone to Arthur and throws her hands up in disgust.
    “I’m gonna kill him,” she mutters between her teeth, walking towards Morgana.
    “Don’t worry, pet, I will phone him like a stalker tomorrow to make sure he stays on schedule.”
    “Good. He may actually listen to you.”
    “Well, let’s go out back and take a look at the setup, shall we? While we still have some daylight?” Uther suggests, and they all file out the French doors leading to the back garden.
    “Oh, it’s beautiful, Mr. Pendragon,” Gwen breathes when they walk outside. Chairs are set up with an aisle in the center leading to an area between two large trees, their branches arcing into each other like a natural canopy.
    Uther walks over to her, leans down, and says, “You can call me Uther, toi know.”
    Gwen smiles at him and nods, making a mental note for suivant time. Arthur looks at his father and says, laughing, “Who are you?”
    Uther shrugs dismissively at his son. They both know what has brought about his gradual softening. Or, plus specifically, who.
    Gwen walks vers l'avant, vers l’avant up the aisle and sees that a stone patio has been laid there beneath the trees. “You had these stones put in?” she turns and asks him as the others mill around, pointing and commenting favorably on the garden.
    “Yes, I did. I thought toi could put a table, tableau and chairs out here in future,” Uther replies.
    Gwen smiles, and looks at Arthur. “That would be nice, to be able to preserve something from the jour like that,” he says, wrapping his arm around her.
    Gwen roams around, touching the lavender bunting on the ends of the rows, noting some pedestals set up to receive flowers, and continues vers l'avant, vers l’avant to stand on the stones. “There’ll be an altar ou a table, tableau ou something here tomorrow, right?” she turns and asks.
    “Of course, dear, I’ve got something for that,” the reverend tells her, walking to rejoindre her.
    “Hello? Anyone here?” Elliot’s voice drifts out from the back of the house.
    “No, we all got tired of waiting for toi and left,” Morgana shouts back.
    “Finally,” Gwen says when her brother emerges from the house and steps into the garden.
    “Sorry,” he apologizes again. “Hey, Dad. Granddad! Good to see you, old man!” he exclaims when he sees Robert.
    “Old man? I’ll give toi ‘old man,’ toi whelp,” Robert laughs, switching Elliot’s hug into a headlock.
    “Ow! Okay, sorry!” he yells. Arthur and Wayne fall about laughing at the young rugby player almost brought to his knees par his retired grandfather.
    Elliot looks daggers at them and says, “He’s my granddad; I’m not going to fight back.”
    “Sure, mate,” Wayne nods, clearly humoring him.
    “Everyone’s here, then?” Geoffrey asks.
    “Yes,” Gwen sighs.
    “Let’s begin, then.”

    An heure later, everyone knows what they’re supposed to do. ou at least they are pretending to know because everyone is hungry.
    Uther pulls out his phone and does a head count. “Geoffrey, will toi be joining us for Chinese food?”
    “Sorry, Uther, I have visitations to make at the hospital. Have something good and spicy for me, though,” he says, nodding at him.
    “I’ll montrer toi out, Reverend,” Arthur says as Uther finds the number and dials.
    They are the loudest table, tableau at the restaurant, but the manager knows they are big tippers and it’s a special occasion, and he indulges them as they keep thinking of things they wish to order, sending the waiter running again and again for egg rolls, dumplings, plus fried rice, plus white rice, soup, chopsticks, tea, Tsingtao beer, and anything else they can think of.
    As the meal winds down, the manager approaches with a tray for Arthur and Guinevere. “Sweet red haricot, fève soupe and sweet buns for the bride and groom,” he says, setting the dishes to them. “Some traditional Chinese wedding treats,” he explains with a small bow. “The soupe will bring toi one hundred years of togetherness. The bun is made to look like a peach, which is a symbol of long life. It is filled with sweet lotus paste, for fertility.”
    “Thank toi very much, this is most kind,” Gwen says, leaning down to smell the soup.
    “You are most welcome. The red color of the soupe is lucky. Red is the lucky wedding color.”
    Just then his wife scurries vers l'avant, vers l’avant with two glasses. “7-Up. Do not forget 7-Up! Lucky wedding drink meaning ‘Seven Happiness!’” she exclaims, putting the drinks down in front of them.
    Arthur chuckles warmly, and squeezes her hand. “Thank toi Mrs. Chin,” he tells her, and kisses her cheek. She is so tiny that he can do this without rising from his seat.
    They politely sample the soupe and buns, though they are both already full. “It’s really good, actually,” Gwen says to Morgana, who is wrinkling her nose at the soup.
    After packing up the leftovers in takeaway boxes, the waiter returns with the bill. “Here we go…” Arthur mutters behind the bun he is lifting to his lips.
    “I’ll take it please,” Uther says, holding his hand out.
    “No, it is mine,” argues Tom.
    “Tom, traditionally the groom’s family hosts the rehearsal dinner.”
    “Yes, but you’re hosting the whole bloody wedding, Uther.”
    “I believe you’ve already written the check for most of the expenses, Tom.”
    “For the things you’d let me pay for, yes.”
    As the two men argue, Robert signals the waiter over and hands him a credit card with a wink. He is gone before Uther and Tom have finished arguing.
    “Yes, but…” finally Uther notices the waiter has returned with the receipt, which he hands to Robert. He signs it, grins fiendishly at Uther and Tom, winks at the laughing Gwen, and hands the paper back to the waiter.
    “Bob!” Tom exclaims.
    “So when are the two of you getting married?” Robert asks them. Arthur just about splits open laughing as Tom and Uther scowl and scoot their chairs apart from one another.
    “Freya, will toi be staying at Uther’s with us?” Morgana asks.
    “I’m afraid not. I need to stop at the zoo very early tomorrow morning. I have a pregnant ocelot I need to look in on,” she explains. Merlin places his hand over hers and she continues. “I’ll be over directly after that, though, so we’ll have plenty of time. No later than eight, I promise. Unless she delivers. Then maybe nine.”
    “So much for the slumber party,” Morgana says, grinning.
    “Aw, that would have been fun, sorry!” Freya says. “But I live so close to the zoo it’s really easier this way.”
    “I know, darling, I was just teasing.”
    Gwen stifles a yawn, but it does not go unnoticed. “I think we’ve inconvenienced the Chin family long enough,” Arthur says, standing and holding his hand out for Guinevere.
    “Yes, I think it’s time to go,” Tom agrees. They pick up the bags containing the nourriture and make their exit.

    “I guess I’ll go back to the flat,” Arthur says to Gwen once he sees her inside. He says it as pathetically as he can manage. Please don’t make me go.
    “Stay,” she says, and his eyes light. “For a bit,” she clarifies.
    Morgana sweeps past on her way to her room and says, “Yes, love, I’ll be checking at eleven fifty-nine and if your handsome cul, ass isn’t out of here par then, I will drag toi out par your…” she looks down at his trousers, “…ear.”
    He nods solemnly and makes an X over his heart.
    “Oh, Wayne took most of the nourriture accueil with him, par the way,” she calls over her shoulder, and they all laugh, not really surprised.
    “Come on, toi can tuck me in,” Gwen says, taking his hand and pulling him to his old bedroom.
    Once inside, he closes the door and reaches for her, pulling him to her, dipping his head for a kiss. She leans into him and kisses him, but when he starts pulling at her clothes, she stops him.
    “Arthur,” she says reproachfully.
    “What?”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “You can wait until tomorrow.”
    “But I thought…”
    “I wanted to be with toi for a while tonight.”
    “Right.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Not be with you, just, toi know, spend time with you. In a semi-wholesome, we’ll-keep-our-clothes-on-for-once sort of way.”
    “Okay.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really. I understand,” he smiles, and hugs her. “You’re saving it up,” he laughs.
    “Something like that, yes.”
    She changes into her pajamas, inadvertently tormenting him in the process.
    “You aren’t playing fair.”
    “I could have sent toi out of the room, toi know.”
    “Well, that would just be cruel.”
    They sit on the lit together, and Gwen looks around his room again as she lounges against Arthur’s chest.
    “Did toi ever have any girls up here?” she asks.
    “What? Um, maybe.”
    She raises her eyebrow at him, turning so she can see his face.
    “I was a teenage boy, what did toi expect?”
    She laughs at him. “Did toi ever get caught? With a girl up here?”
    “Of course I did,” he laughs. “Just snogging, I promise. Never even got to seconde base until I was at University.”
    “Oh, toi poor dear, how ever did toi survive?” she teases.
    “Well, what about you? Ever get caught with a boy in your room? ou in a boy’s room?”
    “No.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “No really, I never did! I was a good girl.”
    “Really.”
    “Okay, well, I was… overly bookish. Boys weren’t that interested in me.”
    “Their loss,” he says, s’embrasser her ear.
    “Morgana, on the other hand…”
    “No need to explain there at all,” he chuckles.
    “I was the Cute Girl’s Smart but Relatively Plain Friend.”
    “See, now I don’t see that at all.”
    “Well, toi wouldn’t, would you?”
    “I suppose not. But I still think you’re selling yourself short, love. You’re anything but plain.”
    “Tell that to all the cute boys at my school,” she snorts. “Not that it makes any difference now, of course.” She snuggles into him, and he squeezes her.
    “It wasn’t until I was at université that men started to take notice. Of course, I was apart from Morgana and in a completely different crowd of people, people that didn’t yet know that I was actually a big nerd.”
    Arthur laughs at this, “Well, I l’amour you, even if toi are a big nerd.”
    “Oh!” she exclaims, laughing, swatting him playfully on the leg. He tackles her over and kisses her playfully, nibbling at her ear and neck.
    They Kiss and tease for a little while longer until they are tired out and end up just lying in each other’s arms together on the bed.
    “I l’amour toi so much, Arthur. I wish I could let toi stay. I just want to lie like this all night.”
    “I know,” he says, and lifts his head to look at the clock. Eleven thirty. He drops his head down, kisses her forehead, and says, “I should go before we fall asleep and Morgana comes in on a rampage.”
    He gives her one plus squeeze and gets up. Then he pulls the blankets over her and does, in fact, tuck her in.
    “I l’amour you,” he says, and kisses her one last time.
    “Let me know when you’ve gotten home. You’re tired and I want to know you’re safe.”
    “I will.”
    “I l’amour you. See toi tomorrow afternoon.”
    “I’ll be waiting in the garden.”

    Home. l’amour you.

Part 62: link