paradisa | 87 Swords in the Stone

I'll see you there.

[ No joke. No pithy comment. Just immediate obeying. When he finally spots Arthur and approaches, even his manner is different. The usual casual gait has been replaced with something more purposeful. He stops before Arthur and waits. ]

[At least Gwaine has learned enough to know when he can ignore instruction, and when he shouldn't bother. But it does very little to placate his mood.

He just stares, a little unsettling, and then instead of saying anything, he pulls out his journal flips to the relevant set of comments, and shows it to Gwaine.

Your move]

[ His first response is to frown in confusion. What about the journal could have twisted Arthur's knickers? He takes it in hand and reads.

And reads it again.

Well, shit.

Gwaine scrubs at his face with his free hand. He doesn't remember any of this, but there it is. ]

I don't know what you want me to say. I was drunk. I don't even remember speaking to her.

You still wished to speak with her. To see her.

[Being drunk doesn't exactly excuse you from doing it, even if you don't remember why, some part of you wanted this, and...]

I wish to know why.

[ I don't know why. The lie jumps easily to his mouth. He can maintain that he doesn't know. He can't be faulted for things he does when he cannot stop himself and cannot even remember. He can preserve what little secrecy remains to them. What's his and Morgana's...it can only survive in the shadows. He knows as well as she does. Gwaine straightens, looking Arthur in the eye, ready to lie for her, for them.

But it's not a lie that passes between his lips. ]

Because I love her, sire.

[The reaction isn't exactly immediate, because it feels like he's been sucker punched in the sternum. Like he should be doubling over, breath wheezing. His foot slides back, tensed and forced, like he's trying to stop himself from reacting.

His eyes are too wide, and his mouth is slightly agape, and he's trying to process this. Trying to inhale- he's shocked, shocked, shoc-

He doesn't even know why he is]

I trusted you.

[It's an exhale out, more solemn, more wounded than he intended it to be. Not that he intended to say it at all. He's still wrapping his head around it. But there in lies his problem, doesn't it? He's spent his entire life believing in the Knights Code, being entirely noble in action and words and-

He's behaved amongst his people that if he loved and respected them, it would cultivate the same. It doesn't matter if he works hard, or if he doesn't. Without fail, every single person has betrayed him. His father, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, Lancelot, his uncle...They all have a price.

Arthur supposed it was only a matter of time before he smacked into Gwaine's]

[The worst part he thinks, is that Gwaine was the one to warn him about her. Knew what she would do and seen it first hand. From Artur's time has helped him win back his Kingdom from her grip twice over.

He should be angry, he'd be well within his right. Certainly, if he'd struck him, it's the least damage he could do, over what essentially amounts to treason. He should shout, probably- He should be more hurt, for a multitude of reasons.

Once fully processed however, he doesn't really feel much of anything at all. Acceptance, weariness. He backs up a step further, in a clear message of separation. His mother's death made his father, and in turn, Uther made Morgana what she is. He has to wonder at the end of everything, what they'll all have made of him]

How long has this been going on? This- [Abomination, treachery, information selling? God, he doesn't even know what she's getting out of this. The request for a stand still she's made, while running scared makes so much more sense now. Who's a better ally than Arthur's own knight? He wraps paranoia around him like a cloak, and settles for an indistinguishable hand gesture as an adjective instead] between you?

[ Arthur drawing away hurts more than he could have imagined. Gwaine wants to deny vehemently that he ever betrayed Arthur, but that's what it amounts to in the end, doesn't it? He gets a life, is given one on a silver platter after he so successfully drank and pissed the last one away, and he throws it aside for a woman who could kill him if she was ever annoyed.

Brilliant, Gwaine. He's so proud of himself. ]

January. We stopped because of my loss and her…change. [ He does not know what else to call it. He holds out the journal for Arthur to take. ] Until now.

[It isn't easier to stomach, the knowledge that even when everything was good and unbroken between them, they still hadn't told him. Hadn't trusted him, or- He shuts his eyes, presses his mouth into a thin, harsh line and nods once.

He wants there to be no mistake that he understands, that he requires no further explanations. And he isn't interested in any excuses, because that is all Gwaine can have for him now. They haven't truly 'stopped', not when he desires to see her, and not while she's receptive. Not when it's only a matter if time, if Gwaine is even being honest with him now.

It's not his strong suit. He takes the journal back, fingers at the very edge to avoid any contact with the other man, it's mildly petty, but he can't even muster up enough shame for it. Arthur focuses back on Gwaine and opens and closes his mouth once, twice and then settles on;]

I think we are done here.

[ Panic trickles coldly down his spine. Gwaine's mouth runs dry. He shakes his head before he can consciously think of the action, reaching a hand to Arthur's arm. ]

Arthur, wait— [ He doesn't know what to say, how to fix it, can it even be fixed?, just please don't go. Not yet, let him explain, he can explain, give him a chance, please... ]

[It's on the tip of his tongue to remind Gwaine of the time they'd been caught by slave traders, when he'd told him if he'd ever put his hand on him again, he'd remove it. There wouldn't be any real heat behind it, doesn't even matter if he'd only said it then because he hadn't realized it was Gwaine.

It would get the message across. Still, something holds him back. Stops him from barrelling ahead with the conversation, from destroying everything until nothing was left]

Yes?

[But he's taking his arm back, carefully and then crossing them over his chest]

[ Gwaine always imagined that when everything went to hell, it would do so with a bang. Its violence would be exceeded only by how glorious and terrifying it would seem.

He was wrong. (the tragedy of sir gwaine) There’s nothing loud. There’s nothing bright. It’s not a bang.

(funny how it all plays out in the end)

It’s a word. A slight movement. A terrible feeling of being alone. His hand hangs limply in the air before it drops to his side.

He cannot remember being so scared. ]

It’s not what it seems. I know I did wrong. I should never have looked at her as I did. It was… I only saw her twice before— There was never a time to tell you. I was a child first and then you were both changed. I thought I could put her out of mind. She was so bitter then. I tried.

[ (you're fighting to save something that was already lost) ]

I am sworn to you. You know I’d do anything you asked of me. It’s for you I would lay my life down without hesitation. [ (before you finish, before he speaks, you know) ] But I can’t not love her.

[ (you gambled. you lied. you lost) ]

[He's quiet, watching, for a long moment, and then he has the strangest urge to laugh. Loud, bitter and sharp, verging on hysteric, but he swallows it down, makes it nothing more than this half choked noise. His eyebrow raises instinctively, like it does when he's mocking and amused.

But there isn't anything funny about this. A different Arthur would have been, would have clapped Gwaine on the shoulder and told him he was welcome to the mess that was Morgana, partly he knew, because nothing would come of it. But she was a different girl then, too. But she'd always known how to tangle up, confuse, and break.

There is nothing funny, about how Gwaine professes loyalty in the same breathe he denounces it, like the others, and sounds so earnest. Gwaine may love them both, but he certainly can't have keep them]

And that, Gwaine, is your downfall. [He's quiet a moment more, debating the wisdom of his next choices, it is the barest of hesitations]

You remember telling me, that Camelot became your home, the knights, like your brothers? Morgana, had the innocent villagers shot with bolts. She burned their crops so they would starve, she imprisoned your 'brother's and they suffered dearly at her hands...

[And here, here is the venom and anger lurking beneath all of that calm and hurt, and he steps forward a little menacing, to drive the point home] You're sworn to protect them! And with your 'love' you've done nothing more than make a mockery of everything they've suffered! You failed to uphold the Knight's Code.

More importantly you've failed them! [And in it, Arthur sees that none of it could possibly have meant anything to him. They were just another pass time and it decides everything. He quiets] I certainly hope she was worth it.

[ It is a curious feeling having his failings lain out so plainly. Hollow and dull and seizing so tightly he can scarcely breathe.

For once, he is wholly deferent, voice devoid of all emotion. ]

What is your command, sire?

[It hurts him to do this, hurts him so much more than he thought it would. He comes at each of these situations expecting a different out come, expecting it to get easier.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, and hates a little, that it always just boils down to this, at the end of it. The title and the deference and nothing else is left]

...You are henceforth stripped of your title, and upon return to Camelot will be banished. Should you return it shall be on pain of death, and given...The circumstances, it would only be for harm.

[Aka, if you break the rules and come back anyway, he's not going to speak for you again, won't change his mind. You gambled with the lives of his people, and they are all that can matter]

You are free to run to her hovel, if she'll have you. And you can run off on a ship to God only knows where, when I extend my borders to all of Albion.

[Aren't you so pleased? You get everything you want]

Yes, sire.

[ Succinct. Obedient. Isn't that what you wanted? ]

I am not your King any more. [If he ever really was, you don't get to call him that any longer.

And no, it definitely is the exact opposite of what he wanted]

So now we are done here.

Fine. Arthur.

[ He turns around and walks away. ]

[He watches Gwaine walk away, until he's almost nothing more than a shape in the distance, and frowns just the slightest bit.

He's not sure what he was expecting, if he thought Gwaine would fight harder to keep him, if he thought Gwaine should have been more relieved that it was in the open, that he could have Morgana and not have to worry about him. Whatever it was, he certainly didn't get it.

And confronting Gwaine didn't come with the relief that Arthur expected it to. There's no weight off of his shoulder, and he only feels more alone than ever. Still...This was the right course of action, the only one available to him. He's sure of it.

He lingers a moment longer, before turning around and going off in the opposite direction]

87 Swords in the Stone

Arthur;

FILTER FOREVER \o/

SOBBING FOREVER

AND EVER ;;

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wow arthur stop having feelings. FINITE

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