Sooo... uhm... I was going to write Gwaine/Morgana but it didn't quite go to plan. S3 kind of killed my idea of Morgana. So I went back to the song lyrics and thought they totally fit Lancelot. And I had written about 200 words on Gwaine and Lancelot so I thought, why not? Another crackpairing ensued.
---
"Can I buy you a drink?" Gwaine asks, sitting uninvited in front of the tall dark stranger.
The man gives him a puzzled frown and shifts further down the bench, away from him, but Gwaine has already had one drink too many tonight and isn't going to notice the subtle clues telling him that he's not welcome. Hell, he's so pissed he probably wouldn't notice if the other man drew his sword and whacked him over the head with it.
So Gwaine gestures for the innkeeper and orders two more flagons of wine for him and his new friend. "By the way, I haven't asked your name," Gwaine says, slurring a little. Just a little, he's not that drunk, really. He props his elbows on the table to avoid falling sideways. "I'm Gwaine."
"Lancelot," the other man replies. Gwaine completely misses the small pause before his answer and the coldness of his tone. Or maybe he notices them but decides they're not important. After all, their wine has just arrived, the innkeeper being very keen on serving tonight's best customer. Gwaine thanks him and takes a swig from the flagon.
And it's going to be bad for Gwaine if he can't get away before the innkeeper finds out that he's only got a few pennies in his pockets, but that's a problem better left to tomorrow morning. If Gwaine will still be able to walk and talk come morning.
Right now Gwaine is more interested in this stranger, this Lancelot, who's currently staring at him with an air of deep distrust. Gwaine doesn't mind, he's busy making sure that the wine makes it from the flagon to his mouth without too many detours towards the floor.
"So," he said, managing on his second attempt to swipe his chin with his hand. "Tell me all about her." He gestures around with his flagon expansively, spilling some more wine. It's not his fault, though. The room is spinning. It's not his fault for making the floors dirty when they're swaying so much. If the innkeeper wanted his floors to be clean he should have anchored them better.
Lancelot frowns at him. "I'm sorry, who are you talking about?" Gwaine taps the side of his nose knowledgeably, or at least taps the air in the close proximity of his nose. Actual contact requires precision and is difficult.
"The lady you're pining for," he says, as if it was obvious from the beginning. Which, to be honest, it was. "You're sitting in a corner by yourself all gloomy. That's like a crime in a good tavern as this one, it is!" He'd know about crimes. And taverns. Yep, Gwaine's definitely an expert on these matters, and nobody is going to be gloomy in a tavern on his watch.
He glares at the stranger, who sighs and takes a swig from his own flagon, immediately wincing. The wine in this place tends to have this effect on people, at least on the beginning. Then you kind of stop caring. Gwaine's tempted to tell Lancelot, but the man will probably figure it out on his own soon enough.
"I love her," Lancelot says out of the blue, and for a moment Gwaine thinks he's talking to his wine. "I've tried telling her, but I just can't find the courage. I can't." His face looks so pained it's almost funny. Actually everything seems funny to Gwaine right now. But Lancelot's dismal expression manages, if not to sober him up, at least to prevent him from laughing out loud.
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timeasmymeasure
#10 - Gwaine (Merlin) - Every little thing she does is Magic
Date: 2010-12-16 10:17 pm (UTC)So I went back to the song lyrics and thought they totally fit Lancelot. And I had written about 200 words on Gwaine and Lancelot so I thought, why not?
Another crackpairing ensued.
---
"Can I buy you a drink?" Gwaine asks, sitting uninvited in front of the tall dark stranger.
The man gives him a puzzled frown and shifts further down the bench, away from him, but Gwaine has already had one drink too many tonight and isn't going to notice the subtle clues telling him that he's not welcome. Hell, he's so pissed he probably wouldn't notice if the other man drew his sword and whacked him over the head with it.
So Gwaine gestures for the innkeeper and orders two more flagons of wine for him and his new friend. "By the way, I haven't asked your name," Gwaine says, slurring a little. Just a little, he's not that drunk, really. He props his elbows on the table to avoid falling sideways. "I'm Gwaine."
"Lancelot," the other man replies. Gwaine completely misses the small pause before his answer and the coldness of his tone. Or maybe he notices them but decides they're not important. After all, their wine has just arrived, the innkeeper being very keen on serving tonight's best customer. Gwaine thanks him and takes a swig from the flagon.
And it's going to be bad for Gwaine if he can't get away before the innkeeper finds out that he's only got a few pennies in his pockets, but that's a problem better left to tomorrow morning. If Gwaine will still be able to walk and talk come morning.
Right now Gwaine is more interested in this stranger, this Lancelot, who's currently staring at him with an air of deep distrust. Gwaine doesn't mind, he's busy making sure that the wine makes it from the flagon to his mouth without too many detours towards the floor.
"So," he said, managing on his second attempt to swipe his chin with his hand. "Tell me all about her."
He gestures around with his flagon expansively, spilling some more wine. It's not his fault, though. The room is spinning. It's not his fault for making the floors dirty when they're swaying so much. If the innkeeper wanted his floors to be clean he should have anchored them better.
Lancelot frowns at him. "I'm sorry, who are you talking about?"
Gwaine taps the side of his nose knowledgeably, or at least taps the air in the close proximity of his nose. Actual contact requires precision and is difficult.
"The lady you're pining for," he says, as if it was obvious from the beginning. Which, to be honest, it was. "You're sitting in a corner by yourself all gloomy. That's like a crime in a good tavern as this one, it is!"
He'd know about crimes. And taverns. Yep, Gwaine's definitely an expert on these matters, and nobody is going to be gloomy in a tavern on his watch.
He glares at the stranger, who sighs and takes a swig from his own flagon, immediately wincing. The wine in this place tends to have this effect on people, at least on the beginning. Then you kind of stop caring. Gwaine's tempted to tell Lancelot, but the man will probably figure it out on his own soon enough.
"I love her," Lancelot says out of the blue, and for a moment Gwaine thinks he's talking to his wine. "I've tried telling her, but I just can't find the courage. I can't."
His face looks so pained it's almost funny. Actually everything seems funny to Gwaine right now. But Lancelot's dismal expression manages, if not to sober him up, at least to prevent him from laughing out loud.
(continues)