It was a peaceful, sunny afternoon in Camelot.
No plagues were spreading through the water supply, no griffins were marauding outlying villages, no rogue sorcerers were breaking into the vaults to steal magical artifacts. No immortal armies were invading the city, and no dragon was setting fire to the Lower Town.
The people were happy. The commoners were busy shopping in the market, the guards were busy guarding, and the nobles were busy doing whatever nobles do when they weren't sitting around in council meetings.
Oh, and the knights were busy training.
Training had gone very well so far. Percival had managed to sprain Sir Alden's wrist (not for the first time) and to knock unconscious one of the newer trainees (also not for the first time). Elyan had managed to beat everyone else at spear-throwing (Arthur would've won, but he was too busy laughing at the sight of Merlin trying to cower behind the target strapped to his back), Leon had improved his dagger-throwing techniques, and Gwaine had succeeded in having a good time (which was good enough for him).
The king, personally, had had a wonderful day so far. He had woken to his beautiful wife Guinevere, sailed through the most pressing council matters with ease, and then had a great time training with his fellow Knights of Camelot. Besides ordering Merlin into that hilarious position behind the spear target, so far he'd easily beaten every knight who he'd bothered to challenge. Panting from his most recent victory, he strode over to Merlin, who was waiting at the nearest sword rack with a bucket of drinking water. He still looked grumpy from the target practice, but said as Arthur took a drink from the bucket, "You've had luck on your side today, Sire."
Arthur snickered at that, spitting out some water. "Did you hear that, Leon?" he called to the blond knight. "Merlin thinks I was lucky! It's called skill, dollop-head!"
Merlin glowered as Leon and a couple other knights joined their king in laughter. "All I meant was," he said, "was that you won very easily. Of course," the servant got a twinkle in his eye, "you didn't challenge any incredibly good knights…"
Arthur pretended to be affronted. "Come on, Merlin," he scoffed, "I could beat any one of my knights in a sword fight!"
"Any one?" Merlin asked slyly.
"Easily!"
"Want to bet?"
Arthur looked hard at his manservant to be sure that he was serious. When he had satisfied himself, he said smoothly, "Ten gold coins. You pick which knight I fight."
"Agreed." Merlin grinned. "You have to fight Sir Gwaine."
This stumped Arthur on two points. One, Merlin had actually agreed to a bet that he would be certain to lose. Two…he had a point. Arthur had never actually fought Gwaine (at least, not when they weren't trying to escape slave traders and therefore bickering over the escape plan more than fighting). "All right then," he said loudly after a minute in thought. "I'll fight Gwaine!"
"Somebody say my name?" Gwaine got up from where he'd been lounging on the grass.
"I did," Arthur said cheerfully, now eager for the fight. "Merlin and I have a bet. He says that I can't beat you. Will you accept my challenge?"
Gwaine smiled and tossed his hair out of his face. Picking up his sword from the ground next to him, he twirled it a few times and said nonchalantly, "If Merlin has money on the line, so be it."
Before Arthur and Gwaine could even enter the sparring space, all the other knights had gathered around, curious and excited. The king and the knight took fighting stances and began to circle each other.
A few moments passed, and Arthur opened with a few experimental jabs, which Gwaine countered, almost lazily. Soon Arthur launched a serious offence, which again, Gwaine deflected. Then he charged in turn.
After about fifteen minutes, neither the king nor the knight were any closer to victory than they had been in the beginning. The spectators (which now included several servants and guards) were becoming restless, eager for more action.
Finally, Arthur initiated his main assault. With lighting-quick slashes and stabs, he closed in on Gwaine, driving the dark-haired knight against the wall of viewers. Gwaine fell back quickly (far too quickly, some noted). Just when Arthur was driving him down on his knees, Gwaine fumbled and dropped his sword.
Startled, Arthur lowered his own. In a flash, Gwaine leapt forward, grabbing Arthur's sword arm with one hand and using the other to land a substantial but harmless blow to the king's shoulder (okay, it was mostly harmless).
Arthur stumbled backwards, gasping and losing his balance even more when Gwaine shoved away from him, pulling the sword out of the king's fist at the same instant.
Arthur hit the dirt face-up a second later. Gwaine sauntered over to where his own sword lay in the dirt, still swinging the king's around. Picking up his weapon, he returned to the defeated king and shoved the stolen sword point-first into the ground next to Arthur's head. "You owe Merlin some money, Princess," Gwaine said lazily, before he walked off whistling and twirling his sword.
Leon hurried forward to help his king up (most of the other knights were to preoccupied trying not to laugh). "Arthur! Are you alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine." Arthur stood, glowering darkly at the ring of spectators (most of whom fled discreetly when they saw his face). "My money purse, however, is not." He advanced on Merlin, who quickly backed off. "How did you know he would beat me?"
"I didn't! I just knew you'd never really fought him before like that and um…I thought it might be fun!" Merlin's shoulders sagged in relief as Arthur's glower faded. "So…do I get my ten gold coins?" he asked hopefully.
Arthur raised his eyebrows and took another step closer to Merlin. "What do you think, Merlin?" The glower was back.
"Pride hurt, Princess? Funny that your servant can judge sword skill better than you can…"
Unaware until that moment that someone was right behind him, Arthur just about fell over. "Gwaine!"