Disclaimer: Not mine and that's that.
Rating: PG, if only for some very mild swearing and two guys kissing.
Word Count: 921
Pairing: Galahad/Gawain
Author's Notes: I know there were no personal ads way back when, but this was the prompt, and this was the plot bunny that was fed by said prompt. Suspension of disbelief is required. I just write to keep my life quiet.
Feedback: Good bits, bad bits, general waffling, I'll take it all.
24 year old knight seeks mercenary work. Highly trained, fiercely loyal fighter. Proficient with lance, axe, mace and short sword. Speaks Sarmatian, Latin and British. Non-Romans will be considered first.
The first reply he received to this was a fat Roman landowner who was so full of his own self-importance he thought he could get past the comment at the bottom. Gawain sent the man packing, ignoring the reprimand he got from Arthur later.
Arthur wasn't his commander anymore, they were completely equal and Gawain had stayed of his own free will, but he needed the money and he needed something to do, and mercenary work seemed the best way to go.
The second was a merchant from Gaul who was looking for guards to replace those killed on this damnable island. Gawain considered it for a while, but decided the prospect of travelling to another land he didn't know, and never seeing what friends he had left was an unpleasant one, so turned the man down.
Arthur made no comment this time, although quite words with Guinevere ensured that there was always someone tailing him when he left the fort, as though they feared he would leave without warning.
Finally the third man came to employ him. He was a Woad but for Gawain that was better than the Romans who would have come after him. The man offered him a guard contract, a small fort further along the wall that had been left to the locals.
He took the job on the spot, and a day later was approaching the small gateway. The lack of greeting didn't bother him, and though the silence inside was eerie, he assured himself it was normal. He left his horse in the yard and made his way through the corridors, finally arriving at the main hall.
Arthur smiled, seated at a low table with Galahad and Guinevere either side of him and Gawain could only bow his head and laugh, low in his throat at how foolish he'd been.
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"What're you scribbling away at Gawain?" Galahad wandered in, not bothering to knock and slumped on the stool near the window.
Gawain pushed the scrap of paper away, under the book he'd been trying to read for the last week. Damn Latin, didn't make much sense on paper, not that it made much sense when he spoke it.
"Nothin'" He turned the page over, at least he hadn't spilt anything on it, Arthur would likely have his balls if he did.
"Gawain…" Whiny Galahad, the tone of voice he used to wheedle information from him, that would make him do anything the younger knight asked.
"Nothin', I'll be over in a minute." He'd agreed to train with Galahad, if only for something to do.
"Are you trying to tell me something Gawain?" Galahad had the scrap in his hand, although from where Gawain was sitting, he couldn't see.
"What?" Gawain turned around so he could see what Galahad was on about and froze when he saw what he was holding.
"Dark haired, non-Roman, non-Woad man?" Galahad read slowly, pausing where Gawain had repeatedly changed the gender mentioned, looking at Gawain with a confused, almost hurt look on his face.
"Shit, Galahad, that was private." Gawain snatched at the scrap, pulling it from Galahads hand and shoving it in a fold of his shirt.
"Then why did you write it?" Galahad asked, still looking hurt. He wasn't going to give in, Gawain told himself, and stared the younger knight in the face, shrugging.
"Is there a law against writing what you want?"
"No" Galahad sighed, pouted and stalked out the room, and Gawain hoped that that would be the end of the matter.
"Gawain." Galahad had dropped the subject of the scrap of paper a few days ago, but his voice was whiny again.
"What?" Gawain looked up from the book he had only managed to read a few pages more of.
"Did you mean me?" Galahad cocked his head to one side.
"Pardon?" So he's decided to start picking at that old wound again. Gawain grimaced at the thought and marked the page in the book. There were still no marks on it at least.
"That thing, did you mean…" Galahad paused, trying to find the words to say.
"No." Gawain cut him off before he could say anymore. He was only hurting himself here, better that than Galahad know the truth.
"Oh." But the younger knight sounded almost disappointed. "Would you have me?" he carried on, still sounding disappointed.
"What?" That was something of a shock to Gawain.
"If I replied, would you have me?" Galahad asked, starting to sound annoyed at having to constantly repeat himself.
"Galahad…" Gawain warned. He didn't enjoy being toyed with, especially not when it came to his feelings. "I'm serious." And for once, Galahad sounded serious, as serious as he had when he threatened to kill Germanius just to gain his freedom.
"I…" Gawain started to say, because he believed Galahad, even if it was his head and his heart playing tricks, he wanted to believe, and then
Galahad was kissing him, tentatively brushing his lips against Gawain's and Gawain knew just how serious the other knight was, and all the doubts, and all thoughts of scraps of paper left him, replaced with the rightness of Galahad kissing him.
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