FIC: Diplomatic Liaisons (Merlin: Gwaine/Elyan, PG-13)
TITLE: Diplomatic Liaisons
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Merlin
PAIRING: Gwaine/Elyan (background Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen sham marriage)
PROMPT: hc_bingo: forced marriage
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: The Queen's brother is a valuable commodity in the marriage market. Gwaine won't stand for it.
WORDS: 823
NOTES: The Coven believes that Gwaine is an untameable force - but, perhaps, Elyan might get under his skin. This fic plays out that scenario to its natural conclusion.
Gwaine knocked on the door to Arthur's chambers, shifting from foot to foot. He had no idea why he was so nervous. He had faced down barbarian hordes, evil witches, and King Arthur when Merlin was a week's ride away at a magical summit.
This was one paltry royal favour. And Merlin was only in the next room.
Arthur's stocky manservant opened the door, bowed deferentially and allowed him to pass. Merlin had picked the boy himself and he couldn't have chosen anyone more different from himself.
Arthur was sitting at his desk, a warm ball of Merlin-light resting in the lamp, and he looked up at Gwaine with a tired smile. "You're up late."
"Couldn't sleep," Gwaine confessed, sitting across the table from the king. Arthur paused in his writing and set down his pen.
"Something bothering you, Gwaine?"
And here was the perfect opportunity. Arthur always had a sense about these things, could predict an ill-mood amongst his knights before they'd even realised it themselves. So, Gwaine should just open his mouth and tell Arthur what was wrong.
"It's...the tournament. Not sure my arm's quite up to it."
Coward.
Arthur frowned. "You've had Leon on the back foot for three weeks now." A shadow crossed his face. "I know we were lucky with the basilisk-"
"No, no. I'm only a few days off my peak." The last thing Gwaine wanted was Arthur dwelling on that battle again. Gwaine's only enduring memory of it was lying in a pool of his own blood, searing agony in his arm, and his head cradled in Elyan's lap.
Merlin had found the antidote, of course, and Elyan had fetched it from ten leagues away, through the worst rainstorm the kingdom had ever seen. Arthur still regarded it as a failure.
It figured that it would take such an epic event to make Gwaine realise exactly how much the young knight meant to him. He'd been taking Elyan to bed for almost a year - a casual fling to a regular respite, until eventually he realised that there was no point chasing a new barmaid every week when Elyan was right there.
But this was different. The feeling in his chest when Elyan smiled at him and, when he'd felt at his worse, useless and despairing, how Elyan had held him tight against the pain and told him that he was bravest, the strongest, capable of anything.
And now he was leaving.
"When are the princess' party arriving?" Gwaine said, casually, pinching an Eccles cake from Arthur's plate.
"Late tomorrow. Gwen's been fussing over Elyan's wardrobe for a week now."
Arthur chuckled to himself and Gwaine raised half a smile. Elyan was going to be married off as some diplomatic trophy and he was expected to laugh about it.
In two days time, Elyan would be gone forever, consigned to a distant kingdom, only ever to be seen on select feast days and trade negotiations.
It was time for Gwaine to man up and face his responsibilities. He had to fight for Elyan.
"Arthur, there is something."
Arthur's laughter faded and he leaned forward, all business. "You know you can ask me anything, Gwaine."
Gwaine planted his hands on the table, struggling to meet Arthur's intense gaze. "But it might be something you don't want to give."
"This sounds serious," Arthur said, clearly troubled. "If you need coin, Gwaine, or time to recover-"
"It's about Elyan," Gwaine blurted. Arthur blinked at him.
"Elyan?" Arthur looked puzzled, but covered it quickly. "Look, we're all going to miss him. He's been with us since the beginning. But this is an important match and there's no one more valuable than Elyan, not for this."
Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder. "He will be happy there. He'll learn to love the girl in time."
Gwaine stood, shaking his head. "No, he won't. Because-"
He took a deep breath, steadied himself. "Because he loves me."
Arthur froze, eyes wide, speechless. Gwaine swallowed his nerves and straightened.
"And I love him. I can't let you take him away."
Arthur stood slowly, face completely neutral. "Let me see if I've understood you. I cannot send my most valuable diplomatic asset to our allies because you, Gwaine, tart of Camelot, have decided you're in love with him?"
When he put it like that, it did sound unlikely. But Gwaine couldn't back down now and he held his head high, meeting Arthur's eyes squarely. "Yes, Sire."
Arthur sighed. "Well, I'd better tell Gwen then. Maybe Merlin's apprentice wants to see the world - he's pretty good with a fireball."
Gwaine gaped. "So, you're not sending him?"
Arthur smiled. "I'm the last person to tell you not to follow your heart. Now, you'd better go tell Elyan."
Gwaine grinned and pulled Arthur into a brief, intense embrace before fleeing from the royal chambers. "You won't regret it, Arthur. Never."
And ran all the way home to Elyan.
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Merlin
PAIRING: Gwaine/Elyan (background Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen sham marriage)
PROMPT: hc_bingo: forced marriage
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: The Queen's brother is a valuable commodity in the marriage market. Gwaine won't stand for it.
WORDS: 823
NOTES: The Coven believes that Gwaine is an untameable force - but, perhaps, Elyan might get under his skin. This fic plays out that scenario to its natural conclusion.
Gwaine knocked on the door to Arthur's chambers, shifting from foot to foot. He had no idea why he was so nervous. He had faced down barbarian hordes, evil witches, and King Arthur when Merlin was a week's ride away at a magical summit.
This was one paltry royal favour. And Merlin was only in the next room.
Arthur's stocky manservant opened the door, bowed deferentially and allowed him to pass. Merlin had picked the boy himself and he couldn't have chosen anyone more different from himself.
Arthur was sitting at his desk, a warm ball of Merlin-light resting in the lamp, and he looked up at Gwaine with a tired smile. "You're up late."
"Couldn't sleep," Gwaine confessed, sitting across the table from the king. Arthur paused in his writing and set down his pen.
"Something bothering you, Gwaine?"
And here was the perfect opportunity. Arthur always had a sense about these things, could predict an ill-mood amongst his knights before they'd even realised it themselves. So, Gwaine should just open his mouth and tell Arthur what was wrong.
"It's...the tournament. Not sure my arm's quite up to it."
Coward.
Arthur frowned. "You've had Leon on the back foot for three weeks now." A shadow crossed his face. "I know we were lucky with the basilisk-"
"No, no. I'm only a few days off my peak." The last thing Gwaine wanted was Arthur dwelling on that battle again. Gwaine's only enduring memory of it was lying in a pool of his own blood, searing agony in his arm, and his head cradled in Elyan's lap.
Merlin had found the antidote, of course, and Elyan had fetched it from ten leagues away, through the worst rainstorm the kingdom had ever seen. Arthur still regarded it as a failure.
It figured that it would take such an epic event to make Gwaine realise exactly how much the young knight meant to him. He'd been taking Elyan to bed for almost a year - a casual fling to a regular respite, until eventually he realised that there was no point chasing a new barmaid every week when Elyan was right there.
But this was different. The feeling in his chest when Elyan smiled at him and, when he'd felt at his worse, useless and despairing, how Elyan had held him tight against the pain and told him that he was bravest, the strongest, capable of anything.
And now he was leaving.
"When are the princess' party arriving?" Gwaine said, casually, pinching an Eccles cake from Arthur's plate.
"Late tomorrow. Gwen's been fussing over Elyan's wardrobe for a week now."
Arthur chuckled to himself and Gwaine raised half a smile. Elyan was going to be married off as some diplomatic trophy and he was expected to laugh about it.
In two days time, Elyan would be gone forever, consigned to a distant kingdom, only ever to be seen on select feast days and trade negotiations.
It was time for Gwaine to man up and face his responsibilities. He had to fight for Elyan.
"Arthur, there is something."
Arthur's laughter faded and he leaned forward, all business. "You know you can ask me anything, Gwaine."
Gwaine planted his hands on the table, struggling to meet Arthur's intense gaze. "But it might be something you don't want to give."
"This sounds serious," Arthur said, clearly troubled. "If you need coin, Gwaine, or time to recover-"
"It's about Elyan," Gwaine blurted. Arthur blinked at him.
"Elyan?" Arthur looked puzzled, but covered it quickly. "Look, we're all going to miss him. He's been with us since the beginning. But this is an important match and there's no one more valuable than Elyan, not for this."
Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder. "He will be happy there. He'll learn to love the girl in time."
Gwaine stood, shaking his head. "No, he won't. Because-"
He took a deep breath, steadied himself. "Because he loves me."
Arthur froze, eyes wide, speechless. Gwaine swallowed his nerves and straightened.
"And I love him. I can't let you take him away."
Arthur stood slowly, face completely neutral. "Let me see if I've understood you. I cannot send my most valuable diplomatic asset to our allies because you, Gwaine, tart of Camelot, have decided you're in love with him?"
When he put it like that, it did sound unlikely. But Gwaine couldn't back down now and he held his head high, meeting Arthur's eyes squarely. "Yes, Sire."
Arthur sighed. "Well, I'd better tell Gwen then. Maybe Merlin's apprentice wants to see the world - he's pretty good with a fireball."
Gwaine gaped. "So, you're not sending him?"
Arthur smiled. "I'm the last person to tell you not to follow your heart. Now, you'd better go tell Elyan."
Gwaine grinned and pulled Arthur into a brief, intense embrace before fleeing from the royal chambers. "You won't regret it, Arthur. Never."
And ran all the way home to Elyan.