[Back? If you ask him, this is the first time you're here. He's wilfully ignoring anything that happened in Wonderland. So for his part, he sounds perfectly pleased to hear from you]
[Insert directions here, because he assumes, incorrectly, you've never seen the house he used to live in before] The front door will be unlocked, so you may simply let yourself in.
[He...Looks completely aghast. He does not! If anything, he thinks proudly he's probably shaved off a few pounds...Probably because he's subsiding on weird cereal and other assorted ready to eat foods] I do not!
[But really, the sun would have to start rotating and turning blue before Gwaine decides to be respectful. He didn't miss it] Is that what you wished to come here for? An assessment of my dietary habits, Gwaine?
...Excellent. Than you can take over for Merlin, because he's an idiot. As usual.
[He decisively leans into the touch, arm moving about the other man's waist to briefly touch his fingers to the long line of his back. For Arthur- That might as well be a bear hug. His mouth quirks up, just the slightest bit]
You're pleased. [It's a soft observation. It isn't that this is exactly unusual behaviour for Gwaine, it's only that- Well, Merlin arrived with an embrace as well, though with tears. Because he'd thought Arthur to be gravely wounded. It definitely makes him wonder as to what the last thing Gwaine remembers might be]
Humorous. You have simply listed every reason I'd like to be gone.
[It'd be bitter, if it was from anyone but Arthur. Magic grates along his skin like nothing else. It's killed everyone who's ever mattered to him, and he includes Morgana in the tally]
[Why would he want to invite you in? It'll give you some bizarre mistaken impression that he wants you around and then you'll never leave, like a stray cat. It's what happened in Camelot.
There's a beat before he nods, and backs out of the entry way, gesturing for him to follow and leading him into the living room]
[YOU CAN'T JUST CLAIM ALL THE COUCHES IN PARADISA, GWAINE. GOD. He needs to febreeze the hell out of that thing once you et up, who knows where you've been in Wonderland, you could have germs]
You made a very poor King. Quite the idiot, if I recall.
[He says it softly, almost cautious. He already knows this is the wrong answer, but he doesn't like admitting that the answer is no. That he left and returned, and there's a great many years missing.
It's not even about admitting weakness. He just doesn't like the sense of loss it brings him, because he has nothing to subscribe the feeling to. There isn't even an empty space in his head, where the memories should be, like there is with Gwen. If someone hadn't told him, he'd never have noticed] I am always creative, Gwaine. You simply haven't been paying attention.
[He's returning to the earlier half of their conversation stubbornly, because he wants to see if Gwaine will let him get away with ignoring the rest]
[But he supposes accurate, even if that is far too emotion than he'd ever like to share with Gwaine. In a long list of things that Arthur is, free isn't one of them.
Wanting to be having this conversation is another. All the languid, comfortable motions immediately cease, shoulders stiffening, and face smoothing out into a more closed off expression.
Get to the point, Gwaine. You knew of her as well, in Camelot.
[Meeting her can't be too much of a shock, and he's impatient. People only ever want to drag out conversations with him, when they are going to make Arthur's reactions...unpleasant]
[It snaps on like a light switch, and if he appeared closed off before, it's nothing compared to the way he completely locks down now. His fingers lace together hard enough to turn the knuckles white, mouth thinning into a hard unyielding line.
He's physically restraining himself, every inch of him, from reacting to this, from giving in to a fit of temper, of, if he's honest with himself, hurt and betrayal. He knows better than to lash out at Gwaine, physically or verbally, and redirects his gaze to a point on the floor, to the left of Gwaine's shoes. His voice is devoid of absolutely anything-]
[The anger leaks in now, small and barely there, before he can help himself. If Gwaine is so aware, is fully comfortable in the knowledge of the magnitude of what he's done- Enough so, to speak to Arthur about it near plainly...
How could he have ever done it in the first place? In bringing it to Arthur's attention, he's clearly not asking for forgiveness for a mistake past, one Gwaine holds no intention to repeat. He's telling Arthur because he does intend the opposite.
Betrayal settles thick, and deep in the bottom of his stomach like an illness. It's too raw, too honest to ask why, and so he doesn't. He's not giving Gwaine the satisfaction of being aware that he matters this much]
Would you rather I hadn't told you? And you can find out months down the line when someone we knew says something? Or when the castle returns our children and you meet our daughter again?
...Is it praise you wish for Gwaine? How good of you to inform me of your transgressions, before another. How good of you to do so, before...Evidence made itself apparent.
[He swallows around the bile in his throat. Somewhere, out there is a niece Arthur is never going to know, has no intention of meeting or speaking with or acknowledging, because Gwaine is nothing more than a turncoat] Of course, the kindness of such actions, make what you have done irrelevant.
Don't be stupid, sire. If I was going to betray you, I wouldn't skulk around. After all, you wouldn't remember anything when you leave. [ He lets that last sentence hang in the air for a moment before continuing. ]
I'm telling you because you ought to know. Because I did a stupid thing when I ought to have known better because she was the Lady Morgana and I a wandering drunk, but I did not know what she was going to do. I do now. You think I enjoyed spending a week fighting for her pleasure just to get Elyan and Gaius some moldy bites to eat? That I can forget what she's done now that I know it? I remember as she must. You're the only one who doesn't. I did what I felt I had to telling you the truth. That's all I can do.
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Gwaine;
Good of you to join us.
Arthur;
Gwaine;
[Insert directions here, because he assumes, incorrectly, you've never seen the house he used to live in before] The front door will be unlocked, so you may simply let yourself in.
Arthur;
Sounds good.
[ Heading over there! ]
ACTION FOREVER
For once he'll be alone in the house, and...Hovering awkwardly near the entryway. WHAT HE HASN'T SEEN YOU IN MONTHS THIS IS IMPORTANT TO HIM-
He's horrible judge him forever]
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You're looking rounder. [ He's joking. ]
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[But really, the sun would have to start rotating and turning blue before Gwaine decides to be respectful. He didn't miss it] Is that what you wished to come here for? An assessment of my dietary habits, Gwaine?
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[ Uncaring of protocol, he throws an arm around Arthur's shoulders in a quick, hard embrace. ]
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[He decisively leans into the touch, arm moving about the other man's waist to briefly touch his fingers to the long line of his back. For Arthur- That might as well be a bear hug. His mouth quirks up, just the slightest bit]
You're pleased. [It's a soft observation. It isn't that this is exactly unusual behaviour for Gwaine, it's only that- Well, Merlin arrived with an embrace as well, though with tears. Because he'd thought Arthur to be gravely wounded. It definitely makes him wonder as to what the last thing Gwaine remembers might be]
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I'm back to a magical, kidnapping castle. Why wouldn't I be?
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[It'd be bitter, if it was from anyone but Arthur. Magic grates along his skin like nothing else. It's killed everyone who's ever mattered to him, and he includes Morgana in the tally]
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[Why would he want to invite you in? It'll give you some bizarre mistaken impression that he wants you around and then you'll never leave, like a stray cat. It's what happened in Camelot.
There's a beat before he nods, and backs out of the entry way, gesturing for him to follow and leading him into the living room]
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[ Excuse him while he steals your couch. ]
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[YOU CAN'T JUST CLAIM ALL THE COUCHES IN PARADISA, GWAINE. GOD. He needs to febreeze the hell out of that thing once you et up, who knows where you've been in Wonderland, you could have germs]
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That'd be a new one for you. [ A pause and then: ] Remember when I was here?
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[He says it softly, almost cautious. He already knows this is the wrong answer, but he doesn't like admitting that the answer is no. That he left and returned, and there's a great many years missing.
It's not even about admitting weakness. He just doesn't like the sense of loss it brings him, because he has nothing to subscribe the feeling to. There isn't even an empty space in his head, where the memories should be, like there is with Gwen. If someone hadn't told him, he'd never have noticed] I am always creative, Gwaine. You simply haven't been paying attention.
[He's returning to the earlier half of their conversation stubbornly, because he wants to see if Gwaine will let him get away with ignoring the rest]
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[ Sighing, he passes his hand over his face. He has half a mind to drop the conversation entirely. The thought of Morgana makes him keep going. ]
There's something you should know. About that time. It's about Morgana.
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[But he supposes accurate, even if that is far too emotion than he'd ever like to share with Gwaine. In a long list of things that Arthur is, free isn't one of them.
Wanting to be having this conversation is another. All the languid, comfortable motions immediately cease, shoulders stiffening, and face smoothing out into a more closed off expression.
She's his least favourite topic]
And what about her?
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You know how people can come here from different times, right?
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'Long before?' Vague of you, Gwaine. When?
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[A long, slow exhale. He shakes his head once, sharp and determined, and speaks abruptly] It does not matter. She is not that girl any longer.
[And he may be on the stepping stones of reconciliation, of a truce at worst- but he can't forgive her. Not really]
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[His eyes narrow, just a fraction. Explanation is now mandatory]
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I knew her.
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[Meeting her can't be too much of a shock, and he's impatient. People only ever want to drag out conversations with him, when they are going to make Arthur's reactions...unpleasant]
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He's physically restraining himself, every inch of him, from reacting to this, from giving in to a fit of temper, of, if he's honest with himself, hurt and betrayal. He knows better than to lash out at Gwaine, physically or verbally, and redirects his gaze to a point on the floor, to the left of Gwaine's shoes. His voice is devoid of absolutely anything-]
You utter fool.
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[The anger leaks in now, small and barely there, before he can help himself. If Gwaine is so aware, is fully comfortable in the knowledge of the magnitude of what he's done- Enough so, to speak to Arthur about it near plainly...
How could he have ever done it in the first place? In bringing it to Arthur's attention, he's clearly not asking for forgiveness for a mistake past, one Gwaine holds no intention to repeat. He's telling Arthur because he does intend the opposite.
Betrayal settles thick, and deep in the bottom of his stomach like an illness. It's too raw, too honest to ask why, and so he doesn't. He's not giving Gwaine the satisfaction of being aware that he matters this much]
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[He swallows around the bile in his throat. Somewhere, out there is a niece Arthur is never going to know, has no intention of meeting or speaking with or acknowledging, because Gwaine is nothing more than a turncoat] Of course, the kindness of such actions, make what you have done irrelevant.
Why, I should be thanking you!
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I'm telling you because you ought to know. Because I did a stupid thing when I ought to have known better because she was the Lady Morgana and I a wandering drunk, but I did not know what she was going to do. I do now. You think I enjoyed spending a week fighting for her pleasure just to get Elyan and Gaius some moldy bites to eat? That I can forget what she's done now that I know it? I remember as she must. You're the only one who doesn't. I did what I felt I had to telling you the truth. That's all I can do.