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The crown prince of the kingdom of Draconis walked into his chambers as quickly as he could without the guards noticing, as the only son of King Mordred of Draconis, Myrdin had to act as the perfect prince. He made sure the door was closed and locked before falling on his bed and letting out a sob, his father had been getting worse lately and the court physician had informed him there was nothing he could do. The tears slowly stopped as he fell asleep.
The King of Draconis woke up to a servant shaking him incessantly; as the words, “my King,” fell out of their mouth he knew his father was gone.
Three months later Draconis was beginning to thrive again, the people had mourned for the passing of their late king for many weeks and since the funeral parades and coronation parades and mourning bells had finally come to a stop they finally got on with their lives. Well, most of them did.
King Myrddin of Draconis acted just as a king should, he made treaties with the right people, bowed to the right visiting nobles, and was the perfect picture of royalty. But behind his back the castle staff exchanged worrying looks at each other, the young man they called King used to be so happy, so full of life. Since the death of his father he had closed himself up to everyone and masked his pain by devoting himself to the bettering of his kingdom, he was wonderful at being king, but it seemed not so much at being Myrdin.
“Rise my knights and go forth to protect the kingdom you swore to defend!” the King of Draconis called to the newest recruits. The brand new knights all ran off in a flurry of metal against metal to celebrate their achievement; becoming a knight of Draconis was a grand honour and they had to celebrate properly. As the crowd of people left the throne hall one newly recruited knight stayed behind, Gwaine had heard great things about his King and he was hoping to get a good glance at him before he left. As the King slowly walked out of the hall his face seemed to crumble and he stopped and stared at the throne for a moment before seemingly pulling himself together and walked out.
Gwaine sighed, it seemed the rumours he had heard were true, as Gwaine left to join one of the parties he wondered if his King would ever be happy again.
A month later showed the King walking down to the training field in his armour, the new knights whispered to each other in excitement as the older ones sighed. The King had often trained with them when he was the prince, but ever since he had taken up the throne it seemed he had been far too busy. The knights quickly paired up to duel each other leaving one of the new recruits to the King.
Gwaine almost vibrated with excitement as he realized he was paired up with the King, the older knights had told him and the other new recruits stories of the King fighting off bandits and enemies from other kingdoms and couldn’t wait to see him in action. As the spar began it was all Gwaine could do to stay on his feet, it seemed the stories were true, the King was an amazing swordsman. The way he parried and lunged, it seemed almost fluid, as if one move melted into another. It wasn’t until Gwaine was sitting on the ground that he realized he had lost.
The King held out his hand to pull his partner up, it could have been his imagination, but it seemed the King was almost smiling at him.
When Gwaine was steady on his feet they started sparring again.
Those in the castle had noticed that the King seemed livelier lately, whereas before his face seemed set to an expression of indifference he now smiled when a maid passed him in the hall or as he came back from sparring. It seemed as if the castle’s whole atmosphere had changed with his, laughter was more frequently heard and friends were more jovial with each other than they had been.
Gwaine was screwed. It had started last week after he had been bested once again by the King, he had stuck his hand out to help Gwaine up and laughed at him. Not the mocking laughter one would expect to hear after one loses yet again, but pure happy laughter that came from deep within. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he was in shock for the rest of the day.
It took a few days to figure out why he was blushing everytime the King so much as looked at him, but he eventually came to realize his crush. Gwaine breathed in deep to hold back tears, as if the King would ever even think about being with a lowly knight such as him.
The King of Draconis stalked through the halls to his chambers in incandescent fury. He had just received word that one the groups of knights on patrol had been kidnapped for ransom. As aggravating as it was he wouldn’t hate this situation as much as he did if it wasn’t for one of the knights that had been on the patrol, Sir Gwaine, one of the newest knights who he had been sparring with lately. The King hadn’t truly realized how much Gwaine meant to him until he was gone, Their sparring matches had at first been a way to get away from his kingly duties, but soon turned into a way to relax and be himself for once. Gwaine had treated him with respect, but didn’t hold back to protect him as some of the other knights did, it was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t act like he was their saviour because of his position.
The respect the King held for Gwaine had slowly turned into love without him even noticing.
The King was going to get Gwaine back.
Knights were sent out immediately to find the kidnapped patrol, they lured in the kidnappers with more gold than was demanded then slaughtered every mercenary hired by the kidnappers. It wasn’t a battle, a battle would mean the other side had a chance, they didn’t.
The King watched as the knights rode through the gates of his city, after a few minutes he spotted Gwaine in the mass of men, horses, and swords. He would have fought with the savior knights or at least been at the gates, but he hadn’t wanted to make it obvious how invested he was in saving the kidnapped men. Now he was regretting it.
A week later Gwaine was supposed to show up to training, but was mysteriously absent. The King had to train with one of the other knights instead, he was good, but it wasn’t the same. The King sent a servant to ‘request’ Gwaine's presence in his chambers, and half an hour later someone knocked on his door.
“You requested my presence sire?” Gwaine asked looking at his leather shoes, the King had looked stern and very ‘kingly’ before, but now he seemed to deflate and look shy, almost.
“Yes,” the King replied, “I was wondering if you-” he paused seemingly hyping himself up “- would join me for dinner?” He looked anywhere but at Gwaine who’s cheeks suddenly warmed up.
“I,” now Gwaine was really blushing, he never thought this would be an option, the King liking him back, “I would love to?” Was this really happening? The King asking him to dinner? He stared at the King who slowly lifted his eyes to stare back and seemingly shook himself out of his reverie, while blushing even harder he invited Gwaine into his dining room to eat.
Three hours later showed the King and his most favoured knight sitting across from each other in chairs in front of the fireplace and in their own little world, they both clicked in ways they never thought possible, complimenting and opposing each other in all the right places. The King hadn’t frowned once that evening, until now.
“Why?” Gwaine murmured to him, “why me? Why now?” he looked sad as if envisioning a response where he was told he was being played.
“I,” the King started not entirely sure where this was going, “how could it be anyone but you? You are one of the few people who treat me as another person instead of placing me on some high pedestal, who else could it possibly be?” he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I would not have said anything, I’m breaking tradition by doing this and going against every one of my advisor’s expectations, I should have already started courting some neighboring princess. But after you were taken I felt so lost, just as before I started training with you, after my father-” he took a deep breath, “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Gwaine breathed out a soft, “oh,” and smiled at the King, he moved closer to where he was sitting. “May I,” he blushed and started over, “may I kiss you?” The King nodded and moved impossibly closer to him, as their lips pressed together it seemed that everything was iridescently perfect.
When they finally moved apart Gwaine looked lovingly into the other’s eyes, and Myrddin looked back.