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Of all the annoying, horrible, foolish pranks for Gwaine to pull, this was definitely the worst one.
Flirting with people was harmless. When he had somehow let sheep loose in the castle, it was a chaotic day for them all. But even Arthur could admit after the fact it had been funny. Decorating the stocks to say “Merlin’s only” had been a harmless criticism of how often he was in them. Writing Gwen love notes “from a secret admirer” had made her smile, so it was alright. Even exchanging Arthur’s soap with bright red hair dye had been alright because it made Gwen, Merlin, and all the knights laugh after a hard week.
But this...
Merlin was being courted. Fine.
Merlin was being courted by Gwaine—less fine.
Even though he couldn’t possibly be serious about it, Merlin was absolutely thrilled about it.
And he wouldn’t stop talking about it. No—gushing. He wouldn’t stop gushing about how he and Gwaine had done this or done that together, and how he wondered if Gwaine might appreciate flowers.
Arthur couldn’t care less what Gwaine night appreciate as a courting gift. He’d never thought about it before and certainly didn’t want to again. But—quite nicely—he allowed Merlin to talk nonstop about it.
But really, was there truly another way for him to talk about anything?
He was well aware that Merlin could have a life of his own, but Gwaine? Really, Merlin?
And he kept getting distracted. There had been at least a dozen times during banquets when Arthur had caught them exchanging looks that caused Merlin to spill his wine pitcher or to ignore someone calling him or to even not notice that his pitcher was empty and he’d been supposed to refill it.
Other times, he’d had a servant come to him with a hare-brained, half-thought up excuse about how Merlin was ill (even though he’d never gotten more than a cough), or had to help Gaius with something important (even though nothing was going on in the kingdom that required Gaius to be that busy), or he simply had to go herb collecting today because this certain herb only bloomed this certain day (just a load of shit—that one bloomed in May, and it was August).
But Arthur had accepted these truly horrible excuses because it made Merlin happy to think he was pulling one over on Arthur.
Only for him to find out that instead of attending to his dreadfully important business he’d simply had to attend to, Merlin was off on a picnic or a stroll or some other thing.
Merlin hadn’t been on time for months—although that, he could admit, was hardly just Gwaine’s fault—and was absentminded the entire day.
To make things worse, Gwaine was just as bad during practice. Arthur thought the only reason either of them even showed up to training was because they were both supposed to be there. Gwaine, of course, always showed off during practice when Merlin was around, just to see his fawning, doe-eyed look from across the field.
Even his attempt to beat Gwaine into surrender failed miserably because it just made Merlin mad at him and tend to Gwaine’s injuries. Arthur even suspected Gwaine deliberately got injured just so Merlin would fuss over him.
Ok, so that had been out of line.
But the other knights were in on it, too, if their jeers and teasing was anything to go by. It made Gwaine look proud and Merlin blush horribly. Lancelot and Elyan’s support was to be expected, but even Percival and Leon supported them.
Percival—who’d said maybe a hundred words since arriving in Camelot—and Leon—who was usually so adamant about being professional.
“We’re just glad to see Merlin happy, Arthur,” Lancelot had said. Honestly, how could anyone argue with Lancelot? When he put it like that, it was impossible to do anything but agree with him.
See, Lancelot would have been a much better choice for Merlin. He was emotionally open, strong, and romantic enough to make Arthur look like he was bad at courting. As if.
But Gwaine put even Lancelot to shame.
He had practically showered Merlin with gifts at first, and then shifted to notes once he got that Merlin didn’t like attention like that
Bloody notes.
With poems on them.
Really bad, romantic poems.
There was a man who wandered the earth.
He loved a man who surpassed his worth.
He wants to serenade
How their love will not fade
Even past when they build their own hearth.
So they're not that bad. The rhymes are horrible, and they’re crude more often than not, but they’re usually not the worst he's seen. Maybe they’re even good judging by how Merlin beams at the notes when he finds them.
Gwaine writing poetry—who would have thought?
But it’s still Gwaine. Who probably didn’t care enough for Merlin and would probably leave him for whoever batted their eyelashes at him, leaving Merlin broken-hearted. And he did not want to deal with a broken-hearted Merlin.
Arthur, despite not being an introspective person, still enjoyed reflecting on life occasionally. The best time to do this was usually when Merlin was prattling on about something—most recently, Gwaine—and putting on his armor.
But today, Arthur was putting on his own armor. Because someone had apparently neglected their duties.
Gwaine walked in and caught sight of Arthur. He seemed to think about just turning tail and leaving, but something made him think better of it.
“Where’s Merlin?” Arthur asked.
“He’s helping Gaius, Sire,” Gwaine said with an uncharacteristic solemn tone. Though it had been happening more often...
Arthur shot him a glare.
“Honest,” he promised with a chuckle. “It was something about Tom the Baker’s wife giving food poisoning to Juliette the seamstress’ sister because she said their cousin’s baby was ugly.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. That, at least, was a realistic excuse; her baby was ugly. “Wouldn’t want to interfere with that.”
He didn’t think Gwaine was capable of uncomfortbaly laughing, but there it was. “Yeah, I left as soon as I could. Merlin stayed behind to help calm things down.”
Arthur nodded.
Gwaine shifted his weight.
Arthur his chain mail on over his head, then the chest plate, buckling the straps.
Gwaine shifted his weight again, looking incredibly awkward.
Arthur buckled his vambrace—nowhere near tight enough, but it would have to work.
“Here, let me,” Gwaine said, coming forward. If he hadn’t looked so nervous, Arthur would have teased him for his eagerness. He did the vambrace with the right amount of pressure, then looked at the rest of Arthur’s armor on the table. “May I?”
Arthur guestured wordlessly and Gwaine set to work on the other one. He was being extremely serious. Sober, even.
In fact, Gwaine might be actually sober. He couldn’t smell alcohol on him. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t shown up to training drunk in months. He thought he'd seen Gwaine drink water at the last feast.
His hair, which had always been nice looking, was clean and combed, which it certainly hadn’t always been. It even looked trimmed.
Gwaine silently moved to readjust the straps on his chest plate, which he hadn’t been able to get tight enough alone.
He’d been moving more lightly recently—like he was walking on air by simply being alive. He hadn’t complained in...weeks. Even when they were on that miserable hunting trip even Arthur could admit was a bad idea.
“Sire,” Gwaine began. At some point, he’d finished with the chest plate and most of the rest of Arthur’s armor and had come to stand in front of Arthur. His head was bowed. “I know you don’t approve of my courting of Merlin.”
Well, yeah but he hadn’t thought it was that obvious. He’d been subtle. Enough.
Gwaine went on. “But I know how much your blessing of our courtship would mean to Merlin, so I was hoping I could prove myself worthy of him.”
“Merlin’s a good man, Gwaine.”
Gwaine nodded immediately. “He’s far better than me, I know—since we met, I’ve been trying to do right by him, and I hope I’ve been successful.” Gwaine met Arthur’s eyes. A lesser man wouldn't have. “He’s made me want to be a better man by simply knowing him. It’s not anything he does on purpose, and he’d probably be embarrassed to know he did, but he does it. I consider myself lucky for every day he allows me to be his friend, let alone anything else.”
“I feel that, too,” Arthur said. Merlin has done that very thing to him for years, now. There was something truly good in Merlin that made him want to live up to his expectations.
“He thinks very highly of you, Arthur,” Gwaine said. “He would be overjoyed if you gave us your blessing.”
“And you?”
A flash of confusion crossed his face. “Sire?”
“Why are you asking me for my blessing? You don’t care either way, do you?” Arthur asked. It was a sign of strength that Gwaine didn’t look away from him.
Gwaine seemed to consider his words carefully. “With all due respect, Sire, my loyalty is to Merlin before it is to you.” It should have been treasonous—and it would have been if Gwaine said it to anyone else. But between them, it was just an unspoken agreement brought to words. “It always has been.”
There was a long moment of silence as Gwaine’s words hung in the air.
“Good,” Arthur said at last. “Merlin deserves someone who can put him first.” There was another thing unspoken between them, but this time, it was not voiced.
If he were anyone else, Gwaine would have beamed, professed his undying thanks, or done some other foolish thing. But that wasn’t Gwaine. Instead, he nodded his understanding. Arthur hadn't made a grand proclamation, it was a fact of the world that wasn’t new information to either of them.
“Give him every happiness,” Arthur said, sticking out his arm.
Gwaine clasped his forearm. “Until my last breath,” he said. They let go, a new understanding between them.
Suddenly, Gwaine’s solemn mood lifted, and he looked as if he wanted to fidget.
There were puppies in the kennels—literal puppies—with less energy than Gwaine.
Arthur sighed indulgently. “Go tell him.”
Gwaine burst into a grin and ran off. “Thank you Arthur,” echoed down the stairway up to the castle.
Arthur went to the fields and began practice. No one was surprised when Merlin and Gwaine next showed up at dinner with the knights, hands clasped openly between them, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves. He'd dismissed Merlin for the evening (not that he'd had much of a choice since he hadn't shown up in the first place) and Gwaine whispered sweet nothings into his ear with a smile that could have lit up the sky on a cloudy night.