Chapter Text
“Will you give me away?”
“What?”
When Lancelot received the call from Gwen, three months before her wedding, he could never have expected this.
“Will you give me away?”
He could tell she had been crying. “I… Gwen are you ok?”
“Mhm,” she sniffled. Her voice became brighter, as it always did when she was crying, because she never wanted to burden another with her emotions. “So, what do you say?”
“I don’t… what about Elyan?”
It was the wrong thing to say. There was an outbreak of quiet sobbing over the phone and then the sound of someone shushing her soothingly.
“I’m sorry Gwen,” Lancelot said hurriedly. “It’s ok, is everything ok? Is Arthur there?”
Of course Arthur was there. There was a crackle as the phone changed hands, and the private-school accent that Arthur Pendragon had never quite lost even as everything else changed came rushing down the phone.
“Hi Lancelot. Sorry. It’s just-“ Then, muffled: “Guinevere, is it all right if I tell him?”
Then another crackle before Gwen’s voice returned, shaky but forcefully determined. “I asked Elyan, but they said no.”
“What?”
Lancelot was shocked. He knew their relationship had been rocky since Elyan had returned six months ago, as abruptly as he’d left, but he’d also thought they’d been making great progress.
“He- he said he didn’t feel they had the right. To- to replace Dad.” Her voice wobbled. “When they hadn’t been there for me, they said.”
Sadness filled him. “Oh, Gwen, I’m so sorry.” He felt pain for both of them, knew Elyan’s flight had not just been the selfish act of a reckless teenager, that they’d been struggling with a lot too.
Gwen sniffled some more. “It’s ok. He’s going to be Arthur’s best man, as Morgana’s my maid of honour, it just makes sense. But please, will you do it instead? You’re one of my best friends, and you’re always been there for me.”
He had, Lancelot supposed. Ever since they’d first met. Her with her brother missing a year and their father just died and him a veteran of the foster care system who had made it into uni on a scholarship. They were both emotionally raw, and had bonded lightning quick. With Merlin too, Merlin who was away from his single mother for the first time ever. Fiercely brave Merlin, and fearlessly strange.
“What about Merlin?” he pointed out now.
Gwen gave a watery chuckle. “You know what he’d say.”
Lance smirked because he did.
‘How could I give you away? You’re not mine, or anyone else’s! And besides, how could I ever give you up?’ Then it would devolve into Rick Astley and all would be carnage.
“He’d do it for you thought. He loves you more than he hates amatonormativity.”
“I know.” There was a smile in her voice now, and Lancelot felt pathetically proud to have put it there, however indirectly. “But I want you. Merlin agrees.” Her voice was so insistent, and how could he say no?
“What about Leon?” he tried weakly one more time, a final lifeline.
Gwen sighed. “You know he’s officiating. Lancelot.” She brooked no argument now. “If you don’t want to do it just say, that’s fine.”
Lancelot sighed too. “No. Of course. It would be an honour.”
And so that was how he ended up in the worst possible position you could be in when you were in love.
In the wedding party. The wrong part of the wedding party.
He’d never even meant to fall in love, not with either of them, and oh what a joke that was. But really, he hadn’t. Throughout uni, all his feelings for Gwen had been friendship, though no less adoring than they were now.
He was so proud of her, how she’d chosen to pursue her own ambitions in life, and not just please the people around her. Lancelot shared with her the same neurotic streak, panicking easily after the fact and prone to questioning every decision, but when Gwen felt in her heart that something was right, she could be firm and decisive. Lancelot supposed he could be the same, but his certainty always seem to make him head away from things, while she forged on to face them.
Both of them and Merlin had shared a flat in second and third year and a year after graduation, and been utterly inseparable. They’d even started fooling around sometime in third year, but still there hadn’t been any romance.
Exactly when Lance had started falling for her he couldn’t quite say; soon after they’d graduated it must’ve been. All he knew was an ache in his heart that once started had only become stronger and stronger. He didn’t even know quite what had changed; just that her beauty which had always been breathtaking now quite literally left him breathless; he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her; and he wanted to spend all his time basking in her glow, hours of funny thoughtful conversation he never ever wanted to end.
When he’d realised, he’d asked to stop their casual relationship. He needed space to think straight, and couldn’t do that when he was literally tangled up with her and Merlin. They’d agreed of course, not pressed him as to why, and their friendship stayed the same as it ever was. Except not really, now Lance had this boundless yearning locked in his heart.
His first instinct was to run away; to get as far from Gwen as possible so his feelings could never hurt her. But he’d resisted it, sat through that initial panic. Because he knew Gwen loved him, as a best friend for certain. They needed each other, Merlin needed them, he couldn’t just abandon these people he’d woven into his life, and him into theirs.
And maybe he owed it to her, to be honest about his feelings. He didn’t know whether she felt the same; what he could’ve done to deserve that he didn’t know, but then again what had he done to deserve her equally precious friendship? And sometimes he wondered: the long looks they shared, the hugs where she was never the first to let go; when they were curled up in front of the telly and Gwen rested her head against his heart and looked up at him with shining eyes and he felt he was drowning.
He didn’t know where the line between adoring friendship and romantic love was for her. He just had to trust that either way, their friendship would survive this.
And maybe, just maybe, he owed it to himself to try.
He hadn’t told Merlin, though he knew it would help. Lance would’ve had to tell him for him to know: Merlin of all people would never assume someone’s feelings about another. But he caught him eyeing them thoughtfully sometimes, and knew he should ask his advice. But it felt too new, to delicate, to share with even his joint-dearest friend.
Two weeks, he’d decided. Two weeks to come up with a plan. Then he’d tell her. Then he’d tell him.
But then he’d met Arthur Pendragon.
When he’d begun working for the non-profit Arthur had started with the money he had far too much of, that focused on getting disadvantaged kids equal opportunities in education, the guy had not been… tactful. Though he was trying hard to leave behind the elitist world he’d been becoming disenchanted with throughout his teens - and that had been shattered when he’d learned his adopted sister was actually his half-sister, she had a half sister who had grown up largely on the streets, and Uther had gone to prison for tax evasion and corruption - even after all that there was still a lot to unlearn.
However, he’d never outwardly judged Lancelot for his background, beyond a few stumbling missteps bred from privileged ignorance and awkwardly but genuinely apologised for - in fact, Arthur valued him for it and the different and important perspective he brought to the non-profit. Underneath the blustering and the clumsiness, Lancelot could see someone who was trying so incredibly hard, who was truly decent and wanted to make a difference because it was the right thing to do, not just because it made him look good. There was something about him, something Lance couldn’t help but feel drawn to.
And that made him put on the brakes with telling Gwen about his feelings. If his eye could be so easily drawn to another, perhaps this wouldn’t last. Perhaps he’d been right all along. Gwen deserved better than him.
He'd expected Gwen to not be able to stand Arthur at first when he’d introduced them to his new acquaintance, virtuous and down-to-earth as his dear friend was. Certainly Merlin couldn’t; the first time they’d met he and Arthur had spent most of it swapping increasingly creative insults, but Gwen had been even more awkward than normal. Arthur too, seemed to trip over his tongue whenever he looked at her, blushing scarlet, and the two barely exchanged two words that first time.
The next time, the pair seemed a little more capable of speech, and begun to get to know one another. They’d realised they had more in common than they’d thought. Both had runaway siblings, both felt the weight of responsibility for their family resting on their shoulders but had chosen to diverge from their expectations to one degree or another, and by some hilarious coincidence they’d realised they’d grown up not a mile apart from each other, and even had a mutual friend in Leon.
The third time at dinner round theirs, Arthur had forgotten to say thank you for the fourth time in a row and Gwen had snapped, launching into a tirade of admonishment which Merlin had interspersed with various delighted insults while Lancelot tried his best to sink into the floor. When it was over though, she was embarrassed and out of breath, and Arthur was red-faced and gazing at her like she was the most magical thing in the world.
Their first date was the following week. Exactly a fortnight since Lancelot had planned to tell her. Now he never could.
Again, Lancelot’s first instinct was to run away, but again, he’d resisted it. It would be an entirely selfish move now; as much as he’d like to pretend it would be so he couldn’t possibly get in the way of their blossoming relationship, it would be more about sparing him pain in the short term, abandoning Gwen in the process.
So he’d stayed. Remained their friend, even as he moved on to other work, and Arthur had moved in with Gwen and Merlin in his place. Found more friends in Gwaine and Percival and Mithian, and Elyan too when he came back.
And he’d waited for his feelings to fade.
And they hadn’t.
The yearning stayed, though he learned how to cope with it, let the urgency diminish. His feelings for Arthur had only grown, as he’d come on in leaps and bounds, being exactly kind of partner Gwen deserved.
He was sure they couldn’t tell, how he felt. Certainly, Arthur never acted at all standoffish with him; his friendship with Gwen remained strong as ever despite no longer living together.
He still spent hours of his frequent visits in Gwen’s pottery, chatting away as he watched her deft hands work, shaping the clay with incredible skill, painting them to be fired into a riot of colour in the kiln. There were still nights he spent in front of the telly round theirs, squished up on a two seater sofa so they could all share one tub of ice cream. Gwen’s warm shoulder burning into his arm, Arthur’s arm round her nearly reaching him too as he used the other to elbow Merlin. Sometimes Lance would feel Arthur’s fingers idly playing with a lock of his hair during the movie, and he would pretend he didn’t notice even as he leaned in to the grazing touch.
It was not a surprise when Gwen and Arthur announced their engagement; there was barely more than a dull pang. They were perfect for each other and deeply in love, why wouldn’t they?
The only surprise was that they wanted him to play such a role in their wedding, but for all his protests he would never have been able to refuse. Lance seemed hell bent on causing himself more pain.