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“Merlin.”
The call went unnoticed. Merlin was too busy rolling his eyes at Gwaine, who was making lewd gestures with his hands and his mouth.
"Merlin."
The strong voice remained unheard as Merlin waved his for Gwaine to stop it, mouthing the words “knock it off” at him, lest anyone notice.
“Merlin!”
The call was a hollar this time. Merlin finally glanced over his shoulder, cheeks hot from the entire not-so-discreet exchange from across the practice field. In the briefest moment before he looked away, he got to see Percival hitting him with a blow to the back of the head. By the time he turned to see Arthur's so-irritated-he's-constipated scowl, Merlin was openly stifling a giggle with a hand over his mouth.
"Yes, sire?" he asked, worried about his decorum about as much as he cared about irritating Arthur.
"What's gotten into you? I've called your name three times." Merlin's shrug wasn't enough of an answer apparently because Arthur’s brows furrowed into a tight, close-knit unibrow.
Gwaine was the answer. He was what had gotten into Merlin lately -- or, not literally (not yet, at least). He’d gotten Merlin an afternoon off from serving Arthur and used it to bring him on a picnic, and, well… The rest was fairly obvious from all the private snickering and Gwaine’s lewd gestures, but they were keeping it a secret.
Merlin gave a shrug, which was apparently not enough of an answer, because Arthur went on, "You keep just... grinning. It's obnoxious, I don't like it.”
"Yes, of course, sire, I’ll try to stop enjoying myself, just for you.”
"I should hope so," Arthur said, his face now recoiling in defensive distaste. At least he wasn’t angry, Merlin thought. A moment passed, Merlin waiting for an order while Arthur watched him with his brows raised, somewhat expectantly.
"Well, go on, then. You shouldn’t need me to remind you that the stables still need mucking, my boots shining, and my bath better be ready before dinner tonight, I've a very important date with Guinevere."
“Absolutely, sire,” Merlin said with a mock-bow, his voice chipper and upbeat, and though Arthur wouldn’t admit to it, Merlin did see the stupid little tug at the corner of Arthur’s lips reserved for what he thought was a successful banter on his part.
As the sorcerer ducked himself away to get off the grounds, Gwaine bumped their shoulders together and sidled up alongside him. “Princess being a brat again?” he asked, and Merlin laughed and shook his head.
“Princess wants to know what I’m so happy about,” he said.
“He would like to know, wouldn’t he?” A firm slap on the back later, and Gwaine was inviting him out with a simple, “Pub tonight?”
“Sorry, can’t. His royal highness needs babysitting tonight.”
“Suit yourself,” Gwaine said, and that was simple enough, Merlin thought. A stupid, silly grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched Gwaine run his hand through his hair and get going back to the field.
Gwaine apparently took to exchanging secret notes with Merlin, much to the sorcerer’s surprise. It started with a letter “my Raven-haired siren” (Merlin gave a heavy eye-roll, but was pleased nonetheless) in his coat pocket, which Merlin didn’t find until he was serving dinner to Arthur and Gwen. He flushed and immediately tucked the note in his boot to read later in the privacy of his bedroom. The setting sun had already long-since passed by, so he hurried over to the candle-light to read it and compose a reply he hoped would elicit the same kind of jolt of the heart finding it gave Merlin.
There was a council meeting the evening next. As usual, Merlin stuck to the wine to try and get out of the real, hard work, which served him quite well since Gwaine drank a lot of it. They’d seen each other earlier in the day as a giggling mass of hands and kissing and scolding, and “not now!” “why not?” in a corridor near the King’s quarters.
“Alright, alright, just take this,” was all Gwaine had to say for himself as he slipped the parchment into Merlin’s hands before giving him one last, hard kiss and sauntering off. Merlin tore it open right away.
Here’s a riddle to leave you amazed:
I’m hairy beneath; above, no hair to graze;
I’m purple and red
And stand up in the bed;
Merlin would weep at me. What am I praised?Your love,
The Wonderful and Brave Knight of Camelot,
Sir Gwaine
Accompanying the riddle was a lewd drawing of a cock, and Merlin had to bite his lip not to cry out with laughter. In the time that had passed, Merlin managed to compose a reply to the serious question posed.
As Gwaine finished off another goblet of wine, Merlin leaned in close to refill it, his face perhaps getting a little close as he tried to slip the letter into Gwaine’s lap. It may have gone fine, except that Gwaine caught his hand under the table and made him fumble with the wine, spilling it onto the table.
“Merlin!”
Arthur’s voice. With how easy and intimate he felt with Gwaine, even in public, he’d almost forgotten other people were even in the room. Important other people. Or so Arthur might think, but Merlin honestly didn’t mind them so much. Arthur cleared his throat, reminding Merlin to knock the smirk off his face in their presence at the very least, and he did manage to stand upright without being told.
“Sorry, Wonderful and Brave sir Knight,” Merlin said, setting to mopping up the mess with the towel over his arm, and his and Gwaine’s exchanged smirks weren’t so secretive as they might have thought.
“Anyway,” Arthur pressed on, and as he did so, Merlin looked round the table to see Elyan barely concealing a smirk of his own, though he dared not show it to the king.
“Merlin!”
The voice was warmer and friendlier than Arthur’s, which was what Merlin expected to hear as he stood in the stables, elbows-deep in dirty water basins.
“Gwaine!” he said back, laughing over his shoulder. He kept his hands in the basins, lest he be tempted to get his dirty hands all over the knight, but Gwaine approached and kissed him from behind anyway. He rested his hands on Merlin’s hips as Merlin gave a quick look-around to see if anyone else was there.
“Not much of a secret if you’re gonna keep groping me in public, now, is it?” he asked, turning while keeping his hands beside him; they were covered in old hay and mud.
“That was hardly a grope, my darling manure princeling,” he said, reaching between them to give Merlin a real taste of the word, but Merlin used his dirty, muddy hand to slap the gloved hand away in time.
“Come to find me?” he asked, wondering if he should bother to wipe his hands off. He decided not to, satisfied in Gwaine’s momentary attention. With turning over the horses’ dinner, mucking their stalls, and readying Arthur’s bath still ahead of him, he thought it best he let this distraction die.
“In a manner of speaking,” Gwaine answered with a raised brow; Merlin rolled his eyes but laughed all the same. “Thought you might need a snack to tide you over, what with Princess getting so jealous all of a sudden.”
"A snack?" Merlin eyed Gwaine suspiciously as Gwaine pulled out an apple, tossing it in the air before holding it out for Merlin, much the same way he had just before kissing Merlin on their picnic. "How am I supposed to eat that?" he asked, holding out his dirty hands for emphasis.
"Mouth-to-mouth?" he offered, though he did also pull a knife from his side, an actual, practical attempt at helping this along. "I'll slice it for you," he said, and Merlin shrugged.
"Alright," he said, turning back to the basin. "And you'll feed it to me as well, won't you, sir knight?" he asked with a go at the same regal entitlement Arthur always threw at him.
"'Course, mate," said Gwaine, a glove hanging from his teeth while he freed a wedge of the apple. He pinched it between the knife and his thumb and held it out to Merlin, waggling his brows suggestively.
Merlin stopped before he took it. He licked the backs of his lips, then let a small breath out, and he wondered if this was a good idea. Arthur was already quite irritated with how much the two of them had been acting up, and if they were caught being so ridiculous, there' no saying how his royal majesty would react.
But he decided to take a chance. The boldness of it dared a twisted smirk and he leaned forward, parting his dampened lips to take the apple wedge into his teeth, eyes locked firmly on Gwaine's.
Gwaine let out a breath of release, as if he'd been anticipating the gesture, and Merlin knew he'd won this round. He drew the apple slice all the way into his mouth and chewed it up, the effort in being appealing too much of a job for him to care to maintain, and Gwaine laughed as he freed another wedge, the glove still in his teeth.
"Really?" Merlin asked. "Another?"
"Lick this one before you take it, will ya?"
And Merlin laughed at the blatant desire and command in it. "You are such a pervert!" he whispered in an embarrassed rush, his cheeks pinkening at the thought. They both began giggling at it, though, as if they were young boys talking about a woman’s underthings.
"You love it, admit it," Gwaine whispered, still holding out the apple, but Merlin made no attempt to appeal to Gwaine's sexuality. He bit into the apple hard, severing it. The quick “oh, no” as Gwaine pulled the glove from his mouth and he stepped back told Merlin he was reacting to something else, however.
There was a cough from behind Merlin. The servant immediately shook his hands off as he turned around and rushed out, "Arthur!"
The king, who had apparently been standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, took no more than three slow steps inside.
"Oh, come off it, princess, we're just having a bit of fun," Gwaine said at the clear irritation present in Arthur's furrowed brows and deep-set frown. Merlin winced, suspecting Gwaine’s boldness would do nothing to help the situation. Arthur looked more upset than the council meeting, and though Merlin was a bit worried, he couldn't help but laugh at it.
"Both of you. Meeting chambers. One hour," he said, looking between the two of them.
"Arthur, it's just-" Merlin began to reason, a little embarrassed but mostly amused.
"I don't want to hear it," he said, and he turned on his heel and left.
"Well, that sounded ominous," said Gwaine with a smirk stuck on his mouth.
Merlin just rolled his eyes. "More chores is what it sounded like," he said with an air of defeat, turning back to the water basins to at least finish this task.
When it was time to go up to the meeting chambers, Merlin only just barely had time to wash up, so he was a little out of breath when he walked in. He didn’t bother knocking and entered to see Gwaine already inside, his expression a puzzling combination of amused and indignant.
"You are dismissed.”
"Right, then," Gwaine said, turning around to close the conversation with a bit of a hair flip. He pat Merlin on the shoulder as he walked past him and warned him, "Brace yourself. He's in a bit of a mood, there." And walked out.
Merlin closed the door behind Gwaine and approached Arthur at his desk. For what it was worth, he looked more tired than angry. He took a seat across from Arthur. "This isn't about goofing off, is it?" he asked in a sort of irritated understanding. Arthur intended to interfere, then. An assumption, but it wasn’t unbased. Licking his lips, he adjusted himself in the seat and waited for whatever it was Arthur had to say.
"Whatever's going on between you," he said leaning over with his head down and his elbows on the desk, running his fingers through his hair, "I expect you to stop it."
Merlin gave a breathy laugh that wasn't really very amused. The tiredness and reluctance of it wasn’t enough for Merlin; he didn’t care if Arthur was only thinking about ‘what was best’ -- the thought didn’t even occur to him.
"Why?" he asked, indignant, bold, and prideful. "Why should I?"
"What do you mean, why, Merlin? I said so, and I'm the king."
"So the king gets to involve himself in his servant's dalliances, does he?"
"He does when it affects his servants duties, yes," Arthur said, and the reluctance had given way to command. Merlin felt put out. He sat back in the chair and put his weight on one arm, frowning at his king with the same frown he was received. It felt the same, at least. His eyes were heavy and his heart fell dull. Merlin wasn't just irritated -- he was angry.
"So, what, then? I stick to you at all times, is it? Watch you and Gwen have something I'm not allowed to touch?" He gave that breathy laugh again and Arthur tried to stop him with an eyeroll and a "Merlin, please" but Merlin pressed on.
"You're jealous, is that what it is? You keep me holed up, you want me cold and dry, but god forbid someone else wants better for me." Merlin shook his head. Gwaine hadn’t said as much, necessarily, but he knew how to make Merlin feel good. "No, sire. You get to tell me when I'm late, where I should carry things, what order I need to carry out my chores -- but you don't get to tell me who to love."
"I'm not naive, Merlin, and neither are you," Arthur cut in, his voice heavy with intent. "You know what Gwaine is like-"
"And how is that?"
"I don't want to see you hurt, is all."
"And, what, besides? I'm just some lovesick maid, is it?" He shook his head. Arguing about this was already old. "No offense, Arthur, but it's none of your business. If you'll excuse me, I still need to much the-"
"Forget the horses, Merlin," Arthur said, rubbing his temples with heavy hands. "Just... See my armor's polished, then have the night off."
Merlin's lips twitched in a bitter smile. He certainly wouldn't argue with that. "Of course, sire," he said with a bow, and he left the room.
While Arthur did give Merlin the night off, Gwaine wasn't so lucky. In fact, Gwaine was meant to guard the prisons with Leon, who was given explicit instructions not to let Merlin near the dungeons under any circumstance. The unspoken understanding was apparently more specific to keeping Merlin from Gwaine, less so the prisons, but when Leon sent Merlin off, it wasn't without any kind of token. He managed to tuck a leaf of parchment into Merlin's hand, which Merlin read as he went back to Gaius’s.
Princess is gonna have to try harder than that to keep me off of you. I’m a dog in heat. Nothing noble about this beast! I’ve no intentions to doubt!
Cheers!
The Charming Sir Gwaine
"What's gotten you so chipper all of a sudden?" Gaius asked at supper when Merlin bit right into the fresh tomatoes Gaius put in front of him. "These past few days, Merlin, I'd swear you were in love," he went on, signature brow raised high.
"Dunno," Merlin answered through a mouthful of tomato. He leaned forward and pointed at Gaius, the tomato still in hand, and he thought, Gaius doesn’t count when it comes to secrets. "Could have something to do with Gwaine trying to court me," he offered offhandedly, sending Gaius's eyebrow leagues beyond the hairline.
"Courting you?" he pressed, voice flat though Merlin could read the thinly veiled curiosity in it. "Sir Gwaine?"
"Arthur doesn't like it," Merlin went on.
"No, I don't suppose he would," said Gaius, and Merlin wasn't sure if he should laugh or question the thickness in that statement. Either way, he let it go and had another bite of the tomato. Merlin smiled with satisfaction and sat back.
"I didn't think Gwaine to be the courting type, I must admit," Gaius said finally after Merlin failed to respond. "Though you do seem to be enjoying yourself." There was some kind of reluctance in it, as if Gaius was forcing himself to handle the new information, but couldn't quite grasp it. "And it does explain the letters I found on your bed this afternoon," he added with a level look, which Merlin met with firm eye contact before they both fell into a familiar smile and changed the subject.
A few days had passed, and so had a few more letters, each one more lewd than the last. Now that their secret was out, Arthur was doing his very best to keep them apart more than ever. And now more than ever, they were stealing glances across the room and generally ignoring their tasks as much as possible just for a chance to see each other during the day.
There were even a few times when Merlin had gotten back to Gaius’s after a long day to find flowers waiting for him.
“But, Sire, I’ve seen nothing to suggest-”
“Quiet, Leon.”
Merlin stopped at the partly-open door instead of walking right on in like he usually did, and he was glad he did. “I want to hear it from Gwaine,” was the next thing Arthur said.
Merlin stepped in close and pushed the door open just a little more so he could hear better, and sure enough, Gwaine's voice came next, thick and oozing with the same condescension he likely felt coming from Arthur.
"Dunno what you want me to say, doll. Maybe I should ask the criers to make an announcement, if it would please the princess?"
They were talking about him, about them. Merlin smiled to himself, appreciating Gwaine's obstinance against Arthur's blows.
"Anyone else," Arthur said. "I don't understand. Why Merlin?"
"Are you serious? I gotta be honest with ya, mate, I was worried you'd be competition for a while," came Gwaine's voice again, less put-on this time.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
A silence. Merlin picture Gwaine shrugging, but then Leon chimed in,
"It could be your... softness, sire. For Merlin."
Merlin smiled to himself outside the door. Softness? He knew what Leon meant, but Arthur was anything but soft for Merlin. Still, the teasing reminded him of his accusation earlier, that Arthur was just jealous. Maybe he sat with those feelings long enough, Merlin thought, because this conversation sounded like it came from a genuine place of caring, right up until the next thing he said.
"My softness? Right, forget it, all I'm saying is if you end up tossing Merlin aside, I'm the one who has to deal with the aftermath. It'll be better for everyone if both of you just stop where you are and move on."
"Bit of a contradiction there, don't ya think? Stop and go at the same time?" Gwaine laughed. "Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere-"
"Merlin?"
Gwen's voice behind him was quiet enough that the men inside didn't hear, but it made him jump all the same. He turned around, shaking his head with his back to the door now, gesturing at it with his thumb.
"I was just - erm - there's the linens and-" he held up the basket with the bedsheets "-I was just-"
"Merlin, please," said Gwen, "I'm not naive." She put a hand on his shoulder to calm him before walking past him and inside. He followed her a bit dumbly, placing the basket on the bed and setting to work without acknowledging the men in the room, though he couldn't really hide the stupid, doofy smile as he looked up at Gwaine, who winked back at him for all to see.
"What - no - in my own room? You're all ridiculous!" Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair before gesturing for Gwaine and Leon to leave. "Out, out," he said in defeat. "Both of you.”
"And you." He pointed to Merlin. "You're going to be the death of me," he said before rushing out, an amused Gwen tailing behind him.
Maybe all the fuss wasn't really worth it, Merlin thought as he took his time on a stroll to the tavern to meet Gwaine, restless hands shove deep in his coat pockets. After all, before it started, it had never really occurred to Merlin to think of Gwaine in the way he did now. He didn't want to stop it - he really liked the time he spent with Gwaine, though it was being seriously stifled by a certain blonde prat keeping them apart. Still, was the trouble outweighed by their desire?
He imagined Gwaine being cornered by Arthur not once, but twice. Gwaine somehow managed to keep his cool, while Merlin immediately got angry. Then, Merlin thought of Leon agreeing to pass him note, and Leon momentarily standing up to Arthur on Gwaine’s behalf. That meant that Leon trusted his instinct, did it not?
And even if Arthur was right... even if Gwaine was just in it to finally get a good night on his back with Merlin. How could that be so devastating that Arthur expected there to be pieces to pick up?
It wasn't as if Gwaine didn't mean anything to Merlin. If anything, Gwaine had been there for him more consistently than anyone else in Camelot -- and even in the past, when Merlin showed up, totally unexpected, asking for help with someone who apparently seemed like competition... Gwaine still helped him through the Perilous Lands.
He bit his lip as he pushed in the pub. There wasn't a dull ache in his chest the way he expected there to be for something like love. It was more of a half-hearted apathy, like the thought of not being with Gwaine now that he knew he wanted him would leave him completely... well, incomplete.
And, maybe, what if Gwaine wasn't really serious about it? With as good as it felt to have someone around, always making him smile, always on his side… It would hurt, if he wasn’t serious. It would quite decidedly hurt. It hadn't even dawned on Merlin to question it really (Gwaine had said in the one letter he had no intentions to doubt), but now he felt like he needed to know.
He was going to bring it up, now that he was laden with so much doubt. When they got to drinking, he planned to ask Gwaine what they were doing, where they were going.
When he walked in, Gwaine was already there, but he wasn’t by himself. He was chatting with dark-haired woman, all bust and curves, trailing her finger down the front of his chest in a deliberate and completely sexual display. So far as Merlin could see, Gwaine was having none of it. Though he didn’t push her hand away, his smile, winning as ever, hardly waned and Merlin could make out the words “sorry, love” on his lips as he took one step back away from her.
Smiling to himself, Merlin approached the pair and sidled up close to Gwaine’s side. Gwaine put his arm around Merlin’s waist, and Merlin felt hugely relieved.
“Well, you can’t blame a girl for tryin’,” she said, eyeing Merlin with an uncomfortably lingering look. “Though I would have both of ya, if that’s the problem.”
“Did Arthur send you?” Gwaine asked.
“Sure as the sun is bright,” she said. Merlin rolled his eyes, though the woman’s brazenness in admitting it was a bit of a comfort. “Right. Your loss. Suppose I’ll be off, then.” And, for once, they were alone.
“Listen. We need to talk.”
A groan. “Not something a guy likes to hear,” he said as he waved the bartender down, ordering for both of them.
“I’m serious, Gwaine,” he snapped, his uncertainty leaving him irritable and short. Gwaine looked back at him with a frown. “I’m just- I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it.”
The bartender dropped off their pints as they sat across from each other at a table off to the side. Gwaine watched Merlin, listening for once, and his sincerity made Merlin shift in his seat.
“I’m just not sure that it’s all worth it anymore, you know?”
“I’m sure,” Gwaine offered. “Sure enough for both of us, if you’re worried.”
Merlin looked from his ale to Gwaine’s face, firm and serious and, for the first time, Merlin noticed it was a little sad. “I don’t like the tension,” he said. “Arthur’s miserable, and he’s making us miserable, and he’s taking it out on everyone else.”
“I can hardly blame him,” Gwaine said, and that surprised Merlin. “He’s always been a bit protective of you, and I don’t exactly have a great record for keeping love alive.”
“Don’t you?” Merlin teased, and the small exchange left his feeling a bit lighter as he gave a half-laugh and looked back down at his ale.
“I know what I’ll,” Gwaine said. He reached forward and pulled at Merlin’s scarf. “Give me that, yeah? I’ll wear it on my arm. Challenge Princess to a bit of a duel.”
“Gwaine-”
“I’ll do it with or without your token, love,” said Gwaine, and when he flashed that winning smile, Merlin couldn’t help but give in.
Apparently, Gwaine did not intend to wait to issue the challenge. No sooner than Merlin tieing his red scarf around his arm did Gwaine head off toward the castle, pushing past Merlin’s protests. When he got to Arthur’s chambers, he pounded on the door and bust in without waiting for an answer.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Arthur asked. Gwaine bit the finger of his glove to pull it off and threw it at Arthur’s feet.
“A duel,” he said.
Arthur looked down at the glove, hands on his hips. “You can’t be serious,” he said.
“No, Gwaine, you can’t,” Merlin added.
“Finally, Merlin’s talking sense.”
“You’re still a prat.”
“It’s only fair, Arthur,” Gwen chimed in.
“The glove, Your Highness,” said Gwaine.
“Don’t do it,” said Merlin
“Give him a chance,” said Gwen.
“Everyone, just shut up!”
Arthur ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the glove with a heavy sigh. “What are the conditions, then? What are you challenging?”
“We fight right now, just you and me, Princess. If you win, I’ll take what you have to say and at least pretend to listen. If I win, you’ll leave me and Merlin alone.” Merlin’s cheeks flushed and he gave a small smile in spite of himself, feeling both touched and loved.
Arthur gave another sigh and shook his head, but he bent down to pick up the glove all the same. “Not much of a benefit to me either way, it seems.” He handed the glove back to Gwaine and began to stride from the room, calling out as he walked off, “Merlin? My armor!”
Merlin gave Gwaine an apologetic look but scurried after Arthur like a dog commanded to heel.
“Don’t know why you can’t get someone else to do it,” he muttered as he followed.
“Because, Merlin, like it or not, you’re still my servant.”
The rest of the walk to the armory was in silence, but it was an easy one. Arthur’s correction had been the usual kind -- irritable, but not angry -- and something about how he accepted the challenge made Merlin feel relieved. At the very least, he hadn’t kicked Gwaine out or had him thrown in the cells for a night.
“Tell me, then,” Arthur started, breaking the silence as Merlin lifted the chainmail over his head. “You believe Gwaine is serious?”
“Not that it’s your business,” Merlin snapped, but then softened as he answered. “Yeah. I mean, you never know. Gwaine. But he thinks he’s serious, so. I trust that.”
Arthur stood upright and straightened the mail himself as Merlin grabbed his gorget from across the room. “I still think it’s a mistake,” he said levelly, “but I’m willing to admit it’s not my place to say.”
And the rest of the task was filled with silence again, Merlin feeling pleased. He would prefer it if all this nonsense didn’t have to happen, of course, but he knew this was as good as it could be: With Gwaine willing to fight for him, and Arthur willing to let it go.
The duel was apparently to take place in the throne room, and witnesses numbered quite a few friends and advisors, from Elyan and Percival to Geoffrey and Gaius.
Gaius side-eyed him from across the room, and Merlin smirked but afforded him little more than a shameless shrug. Gaius laughed and shook his head.
The duel started before Merlin knew it, and Gwaine was coming on to Arthur strong while Merlin scooted over to find Gwen in all the mess.
“Sorry for all this,” he said while Arthur parried a cheap shot from Gwaine. “I’m sure Arthur’s been a huge pain to deal with.”
“He’s just concerned, Merlin,” Gwen admitted. “And with good reason. But I think Gwaine is being very honorable.”
“Me, too,” said Merlin with a smile.
It lasted a while. Though their fighting styles were very different, Arthur and Gwaine were evenly matched. There was a point, after it had dragged on a good few minutes, when Gwaine looked over to Merlin standing beside Gwen, and they held each other’s gazes a minute. Merlin grinned while Gwaine smirked and patted his arm where Merlin’s token sat.
Arthur used the chance to strike at Gwaine, and though he managed to parry it, it knocked him off balance. Still, he seemed steady enough, but even yet, Arthur’s next strike managed to send him on his back. Even while struggling to get up, Gwaine managed to send a wink Merlin’s way; Merlin watched in confusion as he let Arthur point the sword at his throat, effectively winning the duel.
There was quite a bit of chatter as Arthur took Gwaine’s hand and hoisted him back onto his feet, but Merlin heard none of it. He just felt lost. Confused, even -- he was wondering what had gone wrong. Merlin began following Arthur out of the hall when Arthur stopped him and gestured toward Gwaine.
“Help him with his armor,” he said. “I’ve got Guinevere.” And Merlin could have sworn he saw that smile Arthur reserved for what he thought of as a success.
So Merlin turned around. He approached Gwaine, who was laughing with Elyan and Percival, patting his arm at Merlin’s scarf and saying, “For the love of Camelot!”
As Merlin approached him, Elyan and Percival both managed to dismiss themselves.
“Let’s get that armor off you,” he said, and they disappeared into the armory.
“What was that in there?” he asked. “You threw the fight, didn’t you?”
“I would never,” Gwaine said, stopping Merlin from working by grabbing his hips and pulling him close. Merlin didn’t much feel like kissing, however. With being so warmed by Gwaine’s desire to fight for him even though Merlin hadn’t really wanted it, he felt a huge loss at Gwaine’s concession.
“Why?” he pressed. They stood together now with Gwaine’s fingers laced behind the small of Merlin’s back while Merlin’s hands rested on his chest.
Gwaine just shrugged. “I saw you and Her Highness standing there, and I just thought… Nevermind.” He moved in to kiss Merlin, but Merlin turned his head to the side. Gwaine kissed along his cheek and neck instead, and it did make him smile but he wanted answers.
“What did you think?” he asked.
Gwaine pulled back and between Merlin’s eyes, silent as he considered how to put it. “Beating Arthur isn’t the way to your heart,” he said. “He’s too important to think of as a competitor for your affection.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Just shut up and kiss me, would ya?”
Merlin smiled and rolled his eyes and dragged out, “Fiiine,” and moving in to give his champion