In Wine, Truth - part 1
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: In Wine, Truth - part 1
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Percival
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon
Summary: Mary might be the owner of the Rising Sun and glad to have paying customers, but listening to the knights, the prat prince, and his long-suffering servant was even more satisfying.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 984
Camelot Drabble Prompt 519: Alcohol
Author’s notes: none - I divided this up because it was too long.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
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The big one, Percival, called for more ale, and the others at his table, knights and that good-looking Merlin, let out a roar of agreement, while the prince, dressed too finely for Mary’s poor tavern, shook his head.
The rest of them just laughed, Merlin shouting for wine for the prat since he was too stuck up for ale. There was a glare there, Prince Arthur none too pleased, but Mary knew better than to listen to an already tipsy prince, and she scurried over with a pitcher of ale and a flagon of wine, just in case.
She knew them all by name. They’d come to her tavern more than a few times, when the eyes of the court became too much, and by now, knew what they’d like, pies and drink and discretion.
Secrets were often worth so much more than profits, but Mary wasn’t one to sell them to the highest bidder. Instead, she figured that keeping her customers happy kept her in coin and that was good enough for her.
Besides, sometimes Merlin’s friends could be so darn entertaining.
Gwaine, his hair swishing as he tossed his head, growled out, “Truth time.” The others groaned but that didn’t stop Gwaine. “What are you afraid of? Big things, little things, things that made you back away - and Merlin you can’t say the Princess’s socks.”
“But Gwaine,” Merlin groused, “they really stink. I’m surprised that the castle hasn’t crumbled under the stench.”
“Good thing I have an excellent manservant to take care of it,” Arthur snapped, scowling at Merlin. “Oh, wait, my servant is crap at his job. I guess Camelot is doomed then.”
Merlin threw something at him, the remnants of pie perhaps, then said, “Well Gwaine, what are you afraid of? Seeing as how you brought it up?”
Putting his hand to his heart, Gwaine grinned. “All the taverns closed, of course, and no drink for miles around.”
Elyan rolled his eyes. “That’s a crock. Come on, Gwaine, you want truth. Spill it, then.”
Taking a long gulp of ale, then pouring more into his cup, Gwaine said, “Besides losing my hair?” He let his mane fly a bit and Mary had to admit, those locks of hair were rather quite spectacular. “Seeing others with none.” Then he reached over and scrubbed his hand over Percival’s head.
Percival glared, flicking one finger on Gwaine’s forehead, then stage-whispered, “Gwaine is afraid of spiders.”
Jerking back, Gwaine gave Percival the side-eye, then sputtered, “Better spiders than leeches. At least with spiders, they can kill you with a single bite, and when they swarm, ugh. All leeches do is suck your blood.”
“Swarming spiders are the worst. I had to fight them off in a cave, once. I’d rather face Merlin’s inept servant skills than those,” Arthur sputtered. Merlin threw another piece of pie crust at him.
“Spiders are useful, keeping insects at bay. Leeches,” Percival said, shuddering a little, “leeches get into places they shouldn’t. Slimy and gross and Gaius has a leech tank in his chambers. Who does that? Merlin is very brave to clean it.”
Merlin said, “Thanks Percival. At least someone appreciates me.”
Looking around at his friends, Leon interjected, “I avoid emeralds.”
Cleaning the next table, leaning over a bit to hear more, Mary tried not to laugh. Who would be afraid of gemstones?
Gwaine asked, though, giggling as he did, “What? What do you mean avoid? As in not buy or more like throw them away - in which case throw them my way?”
Lancelot put his hand over Leon’s, patting it a little in sympathy. “Why emeralds? It seems a strange fear.”
Nodding at Lancelot and how gentle he was being when Leon was obviously embarrassed by his outburst, Leon said, “I was just a few years old and put one in my mouth. My father was looking at some, thinking to make up a necklace for my mother for her birthday. It got stuck in my throat. I couldn’t breathe.” Leon stopped, then took a swig of wine, downing half the glass. “It was a close call. But after that, I stay away from green stones. And I don’t put any stones in my mouth - unlike Gwaine who seems to find wine in anything.”
“Hey, a heated stone can warm up any drink and just because I forgot it and tried to swallow the whole gobletful all at once, doesn’t make me an idiot, just a connoisseur of fine wine,” Gwaine grumbled.
“Unlike Gwaine who likes to drown his sorrows in drink, I’m not fond of wells. Dark and dank and echoey. Too easy to fall in,” Elyan said, shivering a little. “And yes, I did fall in. Luckily, Dad was there to pull me out, but it stayed with me, you know?”
Lancelot nodded. “Wells are full of darkness. I avoid them, too. I found a boy once, already dead, floating in a well. It was hard to pull the body out, but we gave him last rites, burning the body as was our custom. His face haunted me for days after.” Lancelot filled his glass with wine, then downed it all in one. “I’m afraid of ghosts. Our village had these will-o-the-wisp things floating at night and my older brother thought it hilarious to tell me of how they were ghosts come back to plague us all. One night, he locked me up in the shed, then proceeded to hound me with sounds and rattling noises until my mother found me. Since then, even the slightest hint of mist brings back memories.”
Aching to hug him, Mary knew that she couldn’t. She was supposed to be ignoring them all, except for drinks and food. But as she went over to the bar and got another bottle of wine for them, she looked back to see Merlin already giving Lancelot the hug of his life.
Title: In Wine, Truth - part 1
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Percival
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon
Summary: Mary might be the owner of the Rising Sun and glad to have paying customers, but listening to the knights, the prat prince, and his long-suffering servant was even more satisfying.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 984
Camelot Drabble Prompt 519: Alcohol
Author’s notes: none - I divided this up because it was too long.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
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The big one, Percival, called for more ale, and the others at his table, knights and that good-looking Merlin, let out a roar of agreement, while the prince, dressed too finely for Mary’s poor tavern, shook his head.
The rest of them just laughed, Merlin shouting for wine for the prat since he was too stuck up for ale. There was a glare there, Prince Arthur none too pleased, but Mary knew better than to listen to an already tipsy prince, and she scurried over with a pitcher of ale and a flagon of wine, just in case.
She knew them all by name. They’d come to her tavern more than a few times, when the eyes of the court became too much, and by now, knew what they’d like, pies and drink and discretion.
Secrets were often worth so much more than profits, but Mary wasn’t one to sell them to the highest bidder. Instead, she figured that keeping her customers happy kept her in coin and that was good enough for her.
Besides, sometimes Merlin’s friends could be so darn entertaining.
Gwaine, his hair swishing as he tossed his head, growled out, “Truth time.” The others groaned but that didn’t stop Gwaine. “What are you afraid of? Big things, little things, things that made you back away - and Merlin you can’t say the Princess’s socks.”
“But Gwaine,” Merlin groused, “they really stink. I’m surprised that the castle hasn’t crumbled under the stench.”
“Good thing I have an excellent manservant to take care of it,” Arthur snapped, scowling at Merlin. “Oh, wait, my servant is crap at his job. I guess Camelot is doomed then.”
Merlin threw something at him, the remnants of pie perhaps, then said, “Well Gwaine, what are you afraid of? Seeing as how you brought it up?”
Putting his hand to his heart, Gwaine grinned. “All the taverns closed, of course, and no drink for miles around.”
Elyan rolled his eyes. “That’s a crock. Come on, Gwaine, you want truth. Spill it, then.”
Taking a long gulp of ale, then pouring more into his cup, Gwaine said, “Besides losing my hair?” He let his mane fly a bit and Mary had to admit, those locks of hair were rather quite spectacular. “Seeing others with none.” Then he reached over and scrubbed his hand over Percival’s head.
Percival glared, flicking one finger on Gwaine’s forehead, then stage-whispered, “Gwaine is afraid of spiders.”
Jerking back, Gwaine gave Percival the side-eye, then sputtered, “Better spiders than leeches. At least with spiders, they can kill you with a single bite, and when they swarm, ugh. All leeches do is suck your blood.”
“Swarming spiders are the worst. I had to fight them off in a cave, once. I’d rather face Merlin’s inept servant skills than those,” Arthur sputtered. Merlin threw another piece of pie crust at him.
“Spiders are useful, keeping insects at bay. Leeches,” Percival said, shuddering a little, “leeches get into places they shouldn’t. Slimy and gross and Gaius has a leech tank in his chambers. Who does that? Merlin is very brave to clean it.”
Merlin said, “Thanks Percival. At least someone appreciates me.”
Looking around at his friends, Leon interjected, “I avoid emeralds.”
Cleaning the next table, leaning over a bit to hear more, Mary tried not to laugh. Who would be afraid of gemstones?
Gwaine asked, though, giggling as he did, “What? What do you mean avoid? As in not buy or more like throw them away - in which case throw them my way?”
Lancelot put his hand over Leon’s, patting it a little in sympathy. “Why emeralds? It seems a strange fear.”
Nodding at Lancelot and how gentle he was being when Leon was obviously embarrassed by his outburst, Leon said, “I was just a few years old and put one in my mouth. My father was looking at some, thinking to make up a necklace for my mother for her birthday. It got stuck in my throat. I couldn’t breathe.” Leon stopped, then took a swig of wine, downing half the glass. “It was a close call. But after that, I stay away from green stones. And I don’t put any stones in my mouth - unlike Gwaine who seems to find wine in anything.”
“Hey, a heated stone can warm up any drink and just because I forgot it and tried to swallow the whole gobletful all at once, doesn’t make me an idiot, just a connoisseur of fine wine,” Gwaine grumbled.
“Unlike Gwaine who likes to drown his sorrows in drink, I’m not fond of wells. Dark and dank and echoey. Too easy to fall in,” Elyan said, shivering a little. “And yes, I did fall in. Luckily, Dad was there to pull me out, but it stayed with me, you know?”
Lancelot nodded. “Wells are full of darkness. I avoid them, too. I found a boy once, already dead, floating in a well. It was hard to pull the body out, but we gave him last rites, burning the body as was our custom. His face haunted me for days after.” Lancelot filled his glass with wine, then downed it all in one. “I’m afraid of ghosts. Our village had these will-o-the-wisp things floating at night and my older brother thought it hilarious to tell me of how they were ghosts come back to plague us all. One night, he locked me up in the shed, then proceeded to hound me with sounds and rattling noises until my mother found me. Since then, even the slightest hint of mist brings back memories.”
Aching to hug him, Mary knew that she couldn’t. She was supposed to be ignoring them all, except for drinks and food. But as she went over to the bar and got another bottle of wine for them, she looked back to see Merlin already giving Lancelot the hug of his life.