it's that time again!
Where I've hit a word-count percentage milestone so I offer you all drabbles to....bump up my wordcount some more? At any rate, tonight I hit 40% of my goal for the year, and tomorrow is April Fool's day. Neither of these things will probably have any impact on the drabble you get
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The innkeepers don't treat Gwaine with any more respect now that he's nobility. He's got a bigger purse, but he parts with it just as easily as before--maybe more easily, now that the income is steady and no local lord is going to get fed up with his shenanigans and run him out of town. Gwaine spends money like he's uncomfortable having it in his pockets and has found merrymaking the quickest way to part with it.
But the innkeepers and the drink sellers, they treat him the same. They let him overspend himself, and then they throw him out and then they don't let him back in until someone's come and paid his debt. Gwaine will wander the lower town in cycles, depending on where he still owes money, and whom will let him in for a pint or two despite a growing tab. when he's too drunk to pick himself out of the gutter he inevitably gets tossed into and walk home by himself, eventually the proprietor will take mercy on him (because he's charming, for all his profligate ways), and call Merlin down to fetch him.
Merlin will cart Gwaine back up to the castle, dunk him in a bath except in the dead of winter, and then, like as not, dump him into his own bed, because getting him up all the stairs to the knight's quarters is too much work when all of Gwaine's bones are made of jelly.
Arthur hates it. Arthur also hates how Merlin will come out to the practice fields more often now, even if he has work to do, work he should be doing instead of hanging about the edge of the field and laughing with Gwaine whenever there's a bit of a break. Gwaine's saved his life more than a few times, and at the rate they're going, will undoubtedly save it at least a few more. His wit is sharp but his actions are kind and he demonstrates more honour than all but the very finest of knights.
Which is why it's totally irrational of Arthur to even care. But Arthur does, because Merlin is his servant, and, and, well, he's not entirely sure, but something's wrong with this whole thing. Something is very not okay because Arthur feels weird and unhappy and possessive whenever he sees them messing about together. Merlin rescues Gwaine from gutters, and Merlin comes to practice--which he never did willing before--just to joke for five minutes on the sidelines, and sometimes Arthur comes back to his rooms to find Gwaine helping Merlin clean out the hearth and black boots, and that is not okay.
So Arthur barks about disrupting practice, and, if it's alright with the two of them, perhaps they could get back to the business of training now, hmm? Arthur reprimands Gwaine for his unknightly behavior with the wine and the beer and the mead and the constant debt, which is, really, unbecoming of a Knight of Camelot's reputation. Arthur sets Merlin more work to do, things that will keep him away during practice times, but that just means that Gwaine is even more liable to wander over to the edge of the field and chitter like a pair of serving girls because Merlin shows up less frequently.
The idea strikes Arthur suddenly, in a moment of blinding genius. If the problem is that Gwaine and Merlin being chummy and ridiculous and annoying together makes Arthur's blood boil, simply separate one from the other. Arthur puts Gwaine on castle guard duty, right under Sir Leon for the week so he has to stay in the castle, and orders Merlin to saddle a couple of horses. They're going hunting.
The only problem is, it doesn't work. All the way out of the city, Merlin chatters about Gwaine. Gwaine this, Gwaine that. Merlin chatters down the road until they strike off the packed path into the forest itself, and he only stops then when Arthur pointedly reminds him that animals--the animals they're hunting, even--don't like noisy people.
"You're scaring them all off," Arthur accuses, well, kind of like he's sulking.
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Except he keeps up the silent treatment long after they've got a couple of rabbits and set up camp for the night, until Arthur feels like he can't say anything either because the way Merlin doesn't say anything back is too awful. It feels like he's pushing his words off a cliff and then watching them splat horribly to their deaths. It's gruesome.
Merlin doesn't even pretend he's not doing it on purpose, silently collecting firewood, and silently starting the fire. Silently cleaning and dressing one of the rabbits, and silently spitting it and silently turning it until it's cooked all the way through. Silently eating, and silently cleaning it up, and silently unrolling Arthur's bedroom for him. Silently rolling himself up into his own cloak, and silently going to sleep, where of course he's still silent, because he's sleeping. That's actually the best part of the whole evening, because then at least he's not ignoring Arthur particularly.
Arthur can't even take another whole day of it. When Arthur wakes Merlin up in the morning, poking him playfully with a stick and calling him a layabout, and Merlin still refuses to talk to him, he cuts the trip short and they go home, one dead rabbit hanging off the back of Arthur's saddle and the remains of last night's dinner rabbit rolled up somewhere in Merlin's pack.
He gives up. There's nothing he can do about the boot blacking and the jokes and the smiles, so he swallows bile and goes around in a black mood. Merlin starts actively avoiding him insofar as actually possible (probably spending even more time with Gwaine in the process), and Gwen calls him a brute and listens to his ranting even less than Morgana would have, if she weren't off somewhere plotting Camelot's demise. That thought doesn't make him feel any better, and it's a vicious cycle playing itself out in an equally vicious downward spiral.
All in all, Arthur hates his life, and he's fairly certain it's Merlin's fault.
"Just stay away from my sister, if you're going to be a pissy bitch," Sir Elyan tells him, irritably, totally ignoring Arthur's pain. "She shouldn't have to deal with you just cause she still works up in the castle. Someone's gonna get hurt, and my money's on you."
"Perhaps his Lordship should consider seeking solace of God. Meditation relieves considerable stress, I'm told," one of Arthur's older knights suggests, which, he supposes, is better than the suggestion delivered only moments later by said knight's firmest friend and inseparable companion in arms, recommending that Arthur relieve his stress between the legs of a whore.
Lancelot just looks at him with those big, earnest, brown eyes of his and says, sincerely, as he always does, "You should probably tell Merlin." Arthur doesn't even know what that's supposed to mean. Tell Merlin what?
Arthur goes out to the yard and trounces anyone who's willing to have a sparring match with him. It doesn't make him feel better, really, but it does exhaust him to the point where he just doesn't have the energy to care. And it's kind of nice, when Merlin hisses at Arthur's bruises, and gets Gauis to make him up a poultice special and berates him for doing things that get him knocked about the head for fun, even if the getting knocked about the head all the time does explain why he's a bit touched.
If Arthur doesn't snap back with any quips of his own, it's definitely just because he's so tired.
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Especially this bit - Gwaine spends money like he's uncomfortable having it in his pockets
THAT IS GWAINE IN A NUT SHELL. Or at least how I see him in my head.
And your Arthur! jadsnhg;kjdagh;jndf;klbgjfdklbga OMFG YOUR ARTHUR. Being all possessive and upset, but still so honourable and painfully fair, giving credit where said credit is due.
And Lancelot! Lets not forget how you managed to convey Lancelot' whole character in one line.
I just loved this thing to bits!
Thanks so much for writing this! :):)
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