Fusion with Ursula le Guin's planet O. In a world with very different marriage rules, a noble wedding and a magical threat still can't make Merlin, Arthur, Gwen and Morgana talk about their feelings.

"Fair sir," said the knight, or Jedi warrior, or whatever the fuck he was, "will ye just?" "Will I which?" "Will you try passage of arms for land or lady or for—" "Seriously? Seriously? What, did someone drop acid in the fake mead at the Renaissance Fair? Stop dicking around, man, and fuck off."