fic (or something?): it was inevitable, really
it was inevitable, really
gwen+morgana+gwaine+lancelot; gwen/lancelot; sort of kind of morgana/gwen; basically everyone/everyone
pg; ~1000 words;
set post-4x09 and overrun with craaaaack, anachronisms and wishful thinking.
ridiculous episode deseves a ridiculous coda and no capitals. because i can.
i) - in which gwaine decides that he too has had enough of this shit
“you know what,” says gwaine. “this whole knighthood business is overrated. i think i am going to regress to my old ways.”
“gwaine,” says merlin. “i don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“well, that is because you,” says gwaine, “are no fun, sir. love really is blind apparently so it’s no fault of your own.”
merlin sputters.
“i don’t really care for the land anyhow, was doing well enough without it. i thought knighthood was about maidens! chivalry! hell, we had more of that in caerleon’s kingdom. also, our queen was badass.”
“but-gwaine!”
“aww, come here, have a hug. i’ll miss you too. i’ll write every now and then and you can skip town and come hang with me when arthur’s being a prat again.”
they’re in the stables, by the way, and gwaine’s about to steal a horse.
“i just-gwaine. i don't think that’s how it works-”
“love you too. tell arthur i said bye.” gwaine blows a kiss and rides off into the night. only his horse is still half asleep and it goes far less poetically than he would have liked.
*
ii) in which gwen discovers the dark side has all the sexy folk but not necessarily the best taste
“you had a spare one lying around?” gwen frowns. last she remembers, she was falling asleep in the woods. next thing she knew, she was awake in a foriegn bed in a dark and shadowy hovel.
gwen is holding on to a cloak, it’s dark and spidery and looks a lot like the one morgana’s got on.
right-morgana. when did that happen anyway?
morgana looks offended. “you can’t very well lurk in the woods in bright purple now, can you?”
“except for how we used to wear bright red all the time back in cam-”
“silence! you will not speak of that place here. i can still feed you to the wolves!”
“speaking of which, why am i here again?”
“enough of your mindless chatter. you are going to help me destroy-”
“i will do no such thing!” gwen should be outraged. no, she is outraged. this-how-where to even begin?
“fine,” says morgana, all matter-of-fact. ”then you will help me resurrect the dead.”
“wait, what? no. ew-”
“tall dark and handsome,” morgana groans. “your dead ex-boyfriend, all noble-looking in the leather pants. boy can do the hunting and the grunt work or something. plus, i don’t think shades need to eat.”
gwen frowns, considers. she settles with, “all right, fine.” it’s not like she has anything to do. or lose, for that matter.
*
iii) in which lancelot is all like: wtf can y’all please let me get a nap in?
he has barely risen out of the lake when he’s knocked back down into it again, face stinging.
he gets up slowly, wincing. ”i do not know what that was for. only that i am yours to command.”
a very upset but very beautiful looking young woman, all dark skin and wet spiral curls and soft features that were not made to scowl, scowls at him. she says, “you bet your ass you are.”
she then proceeds to kiss him. he mentally shrugs and takes it.
a moment later, it occurs to him that they are still in the lake. he decides to voice this because it seems like the logical thing to do.
“my lady, we are still in the lake.”
“so we are,” says the woman. ”and you are still naked. what’s your point?”
*
iv) in which morgana uses her magic for ~good (but don’t tell anyone)
she restores his memories, all of them, because it’s only fair that he suffer. yes, that’s right. her job is to make them suffer. all of them suffer. always.
still mild as ever, lancelot frowns. after apologizing tearfully and profusely to gwen, he turns to morgana and says, “but i do not understand. why did you have me fall on my sword?”
morgana rolls her eyes. “irrelevant now, isn’t it? you’re alive. ish. again. and here with your ladylove. you could be, i don’t know, grateful or something.”
gwen is smiling, a little stiffly, but it’s an improvement.
morgana thinks perhaps it’s still too early to ask him if they can share.
*
v) in which a rogue knight, a witch, a former maid and a man twice deceased walk into a bar--er, tavern
“this is a set-up for a bad joke, isn’t it?”
-is what gwaine says when he sees lancelot again. the whole thing with the black outfit can’t mean good news…even he’s established as much.
(lancelot will later tell him that it is the only colour of fabric morgana can magic up, and gwen will intercede with, “she is not all-powerful yet so cut her a break.” morgana will huff and say nothing.)
“still,” sighs gwaine, “a familiar face! it is good to see you, bro,” and he wraps the man in a hug and waxes on about how they are two of a kind now, knights of camelot who are no longer knights. meanwhile, lancelot is beginning to think gwaine is slightly drunk.
gwaine then moves on to gwen, embraces her warmly and says, “you, my dear, look lovelier than usual!”
gwen self-consciously wraps the cloak around her shoulders and invites him over for tea at morgana’s.
“won’t she, um,” gwaine looks over gwen’s shoulder, “mind?”
in the corner of the noisy room, morgana is making shady deals with suspicious eyeless women for the price of yet another recently unearthed treasure.
“oh no,” gwen shakes her head, “just, you know,” and makes an abstract hand gesture. “give her some time. she’ll be fine.”
gwaine doesn’t argue. he sits with lancelot and asks if he’s gotten to watch while gwen and morgana-
-and this might be the point where lancelot chokes on his drink.
gwen pretends not to hear, and tries not to trip on this cloak as she approaches morgana. she will have to ask if morgana has any needle and thread and maybe gwen can hem it when they get home.
it’s actually not that bad of a look.
gwen+morgana+gwaine+lancelot; gwen/lancelot; sort of kind of morgana/gwen; basically everyone/everyone
pg; ~1000 words;
set post-4x09 and overrun with craaaaack, anachronisms and wishful thinking.
ridiculous episode deseves a ridiculous coda and no capitals. because i can.
i) - in which gwaine decides that he too has had enough of this shit
“you know what,” says gwaine. “this whole knighthood business is overrated. i think i am going to regress to my old ways.”
“gwaine,” says merlin. “i don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“well, that is because you,” says gwaine, “are no fun, sir. love really is blind apparently so it’s no fault of your own.”
merlin sputters.
“i don’t really care for the land anyhow, was doing well enough without it. i thought knighthood was about maidens! chivalry! hell, we had more of that in caerleon’s kingdom. also, our queen was badass.”
“but-gwaine!”
“aww, come here, have a hug. i’ll miss you too. i’ll write every now and then and you can skip town and come hang with me when arthur’s being a prat again.”
they’re in the stables, by the way, and gwaine’s about to steal a horse.
“i just-gwaine. i don't think that’s how it works-”
“love you too. tell arthur i said bye.” gwaine blows a kiss and rides off into the night. only his horse is still half asleep and it goes far less poetically than he would have liked.
*
ii) in which gwen discovers the dark side has all the sexy folk but not necessarily the best taste
“you had a spare one lying around?” gwen frowns. last she remembers, she was falling asleep in the woods. next thing she knew, she was awake in a foriegn bed in a dark and shadowy hovel.
gwen is holding on to a cloak, it’s dark and spidery and looks a lot like the one morgana’s got on.
right-morgana. when did that happen anyway?
morgana looks offended. “you can’t very well lurk in the woods in bright purple now, can you?”
“except for how we used to wear bright red all the time back in cam-”
“silence! you will not speak of that place here. i can still feed you to the wolves!”
“speaking of which, why am i here again?”
“enough of your mindless chatter. you are going to help me destroy-”
“i will do no such thing!” gwen should be outraged. no, she is outraged. this-how-where to even begin?
“fine,” says morgana, all matter-of-fact. ”then you will help me resurrect the dead.”
“wait, what? no. ew-”
“tall dark and handsome,” morgana groans. “your dead ex-boyfriend, all noble-looking in the leather pants. boy can do the hunting and the grunt work or something. plus, i don’t think shades need to eat.”
gwen frowns, considers. she settles with, “all right, fine.” it’s not like she has anything to do. or lose, for that matter.
*
iii) in which lancelot is all like: wtf can y’all please let me get a nap in?
he has barely risen out of the lake when he’s knocked back down into it again, face stinging.
he gets up slowly, wincing. ”i do not know what that was for. only that i am yours to command.”
a very upset but very beautiful looking young woman, all dark skin and wet spiral curls and soft features that were not made to scowl, scowls at him. she says, “you bet your ass you are.”
she then proceeds to kiss him. he mentally shrugs and takes it.
a moment later, it occurs to him that they are still in the lake. he decides to voice this because it seems like the logical thing to do.
“my lady, we are still in the lake.”
“so we are,” says the woman. ”and you are still naked. what’s your point?”
*
iv) in which morgana uses her magic for ~good (but don’t tell anyone)
she restores his memories, all of them, because it’s only fair that he suffer. yes, that’s right. her job is to make them suffer. all of them suffer. always.
still mild as ever, lancelot frowns. after apologizing tearfully and profusely to gwen, he turns to morgana and says, “but i do not understand. why did you have me fall on my sword?”
morgana rolls her eyes. “irrelevant now, isn’t it? you’re alive. ish. again. and here with your ladylove. you could be, i don’t know, grateful or something.”
gwen is smiling, a little stiffly, but it’s an improvement.
morgana thinks perhaps it’s still too early to ask him if they can share.
*
v) in which a rogue knight, a witch, a former maid and a man twice deceased walk into a bar--er, tavern
“this is a set-up for a bad joke, isn’t it?”
-is what gwaine says when he sees lancelot again. the whole thing with the black outfit can’t mean good news…even he’s established as much.
(lancelot will later tell him that it is the only colour of fabric morgana can magic up, and gwen will intercede with, “she is not all-powerful yet so cut her a break.” morgana will huff and say nothing.)
“still,” sighs gwaine, “a familiar face! it is good to see you, bro,” and he wraps the man in a hug and waxes on about how they are two of a kind now, knights of camelot who are no longer knights. meanwhile, lancelot is beginning to think gwaine is slightly drunk.
gwaine then moves on to gwen, embraces her warmly and says, “you, my dear, look lovelier than usual!”
gwen self-consciously wraps the cloak around her shoulders and invites him over for tea at morgana’s.
“won’t she, um,” gwaine looks over gwen’s shoulder, “mind?”
in the corner of the noisy room, morgana is making shady deals with suspicious eyeless women for the price of yet another recently unearthed treasure.
“oh no,” gwen shakes her head, “just, you know,” and makes an abstract hand gesture. “give her some time. she’ll be fine.”
gwaine doesn’t argue. he sits with lancelot and asks if he’s gotten to watch while gwen and morgana-
-and this might be the point where lancelot chokes on his drink.
gwen pretends not to hear, and tries not to trip on this cloak as she approaches morgana. she will have to ask if morgana has any needle and thread and maybe gwen can hem it when they get home.
it’s actually not that bad of a look.