In Wine, truth - part 2
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: In Wine, Truth - part 2
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: 638
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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“We all have our ghosts, some real, some just inside, you know,” Merlin said. Lancelot nodded, and after giving Merlin a squeeze back, let go and grabbed the wine Mary had on her tray and took a big swig of it straight from the bottle.
Surprisingly, no one objected. Gwaine took it when Lancelot was done, then took a swallow out of the bottle himself, passing it around until each of them had drunk from it, emptying it entirely.
Gwaine nodded toward Merlin. “So, we haven’t heard from the princess or Merlin yet. Any fears?”
“I have a list,” Merlin said. “Lots of things. I try not to let them get to me, but the clotpole over here keeps me from thinking too much about them.”
“Thinking? You? That would be a first,” Arthur said, shoving at Merlin to lighten the sting. “I was sure you were just an idiot afraid of his own shadow.”
“No, I’m afraid of your shadow because that means more chores and more running around, saving your backside,” Merlin snapped back.
Mary tried not to snort but it was a close call. They were often like that, insults and fondness, but sometimes the insults won.
“My backside? Saving my… oh, Merlin, have you hit your head again? Because you are talking nonsense,” Arthur said, snickering a little.
“At least I am talking. You just order me around.” Merlin narrowed his eyes, glaring at Arthur.
Arthur looked at Merlin as if he were crazy. “That’s my job, Merlin, and maybe you should do yours.”
“I am doing mine. Keeping you from getting skewered with pointy things,” Merlin said.
Mary thought Merlin might have had too much to drink, thinking that he was saving the prince when it was obvious to one and all that it was Arthur saving Merlin time after time.
But Gwaine must have heard it a dozen times before. “All right, all right, enough with trying to change the subject,” Gwaine insisted.
“Greatest fear? Merlin?”
“That is my greatest fear, Gwaine, him doing something stupid and getting killed like the clotpole he is. But okay, things I don’t like include serkets, ghosts, I agree about the wells, leeches are gross, pyres, axes, hangings, getting gutted by-,” Merlin ran out of breath.
“Whoa, you never said anything.” Arthur looked a bit upset.
“And get mocked by you? No thanks,” Merlin snapped. “And what’s your greatest fear, then, cabbagehead?”
“Birthdays,” Arthur said, looking down at his drink, then swirling it around and taking a long gulp.
That shut everyone up. After all, Mary knew the poor lamb had lost his mother and his father on his birthday.
Mary went back behind the bar and brought out another flagon of mead, and those honey cakes she was saving for later, and plopped them down at their table. “On the house. For my favourite customers. But drink up as it’s almost closing time.”
There was a round of thanks, and Mary tried not to notice that Merlin was half-hugging Arthur, although he was making it seem like he was just stretching his arms right across the prince’s shoulders.
But then Gwaine said, “Well, I want to know about the things you like to do the most. Mine is waving my hair around, drinking everyone else under the table, and eating Mary’s honey cakes. And sex, lots of sex.”
“Gwaine!” Shouting, some of them breaking into laughter and there was much eye-rolling going on. They poured the mead into glasses, and everyone toasted Gwaine’s health.
Mary did smile then. Of course, Gwaine would say that. But she suspected that there would be more than a few of them enjoying each other’s company come morning. And it wouldn’t just be Gwaine and Percival, but maybe a certain servant and his irritating master.
She loved her job.
Title: In Wine, Truth - part 2
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: 638
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.
---------------
“We all have our ghosts, some real, some just inside, you know,” Merlin said. Lancelot nodded, and after giving Merlin a squeeze back, let go and grabbed the wine Mary had on her tray and took a big swig of it straight from the bottle.
Surprisingly, no one objected. Gwaine took it when Lancelot was done, then took a swallow out of the bottle himself, passing it around until each of them had drunk from it, emptying it entirely.
Gwaine nodded toward Merlin. “So, we haven’t heard from the princess or Merlin yet. Any fears?”
“I have a list,” Merlin said. “Lots of things. I try not to let them get to me, but the clotpole over here keeps me from thinking too much about them.”
“Thinking? You? That would be a first,” Arthur said, shoving at Merlin to lighten the sting. “I was sure you were just an idiot afraid of his own shadow.”
“No, I’m afraid of your shadow because that means more chores and more running around, saving your backside,” Merlin snapped back.
Mary tried not to snort but it was a close call. They were often like that, insults and fondness, but sometimes the insults won.
“My backside? Saving my… oh, Merlin, have you hit your head again? Because you are talking nonsense,” Arthur said, snickering a little.
“At least I am talking. You just order me around.” Merlin narrowed his eyes, glaring at Arthur.
Arthur looked at Merlin as if he were crazy. “That’s my job, Merlin, and maybe you should do yours.”
“I am doing mine. Keeping you from getting skewered with pointy things,” Merlin said.
Mary thought Merlin might have had too much to drink, thinking that he was saving the prince when it was obvious to one and all that it was Arthur saving Merlin time after time.
But Gwaine must have heard it a dozen times before. “All right, all right, enough with trying to change the subject,” Gwaine insisted.
“Greatest fear? Merlin?”
“That is my greatest fear, Gwaine, him doing something stupid and getting killed like the clotpole he is. But okay, things I don’t like include serkets, ghosts, I agree about the wells, leeches are gross, pyres, axes, hangings, getting gutted by-,” Merlin ran out of breath.
“Whoa, you never said anything.” Arthur looked a bit upset.
“And get mocked by you? No thanks,” Merlin snapped. “And what’s your greatest fear, then, cabbagehead?”
“Birthdays,” Arthur said, looking down at his drink, then swirling it around and taking a long gulp.
That shut everyone up. After all, Mary knew the poor lamb had lost his mother and his father on his birthday.
Mary went back behind the bar and brought out another flagon of mead, and those honey cakes she was saving for later, and plopped them down at their table. “On the house. For my favourite customers. But drink up as it’s almost closing time.”
There was a round of thanks, and Mary tried not to notice that Merlin was half-hugging Arthur, although he was making it seem like he was just stretching his arms right across the prince’s shoulders.
But then Gwaine said, “Well, I want to know about the things you like to do the most. Mine is waving my hair around, drinking everyone else under the table, and eating Mary’s honey cakes. And sex, lots of sex.”
“Gwaine!” Shouting, some of them breaking into laughter and there was much eye-rolling going on. They poured the mead into glasses, and everyone toasted Gwaine’s health.
Mary did smile then. Of course, Gwaine would say that. But she suspected that there would be more than a few of them enjoying each other’s company come morning. And it wouldn’t just be Gwaine and Percival, but maybe a certain servant and his irritating master.
She loved her job.