Hi guys :D I'm back!

Okay, so finding out Mithian was going to be in season 5 made me super happy, because it meant that there's hope for this couple, which I've always wanted to happen for some reason (even though I doubt it will). I think Elyan is one of the most underrated characters on the show, and his scenes in Have Been and Could Be were some of my favorites to write. I thought he and Mithian would look just perfect together, so I wrote this little fic.

It's gonna be a two-shot, and I've got most of the second part written already. Anyway, doubt anyone will read this, since I think I'm the only shipper of this pairing on the whole site, but think about it ;D (btw, HOLYGOD I loved the first episode...S5's gonna be awesome, guys. More dreams to come.)

Read and Review!

It'll Get Better

The first time she came to the castle, Elyan didn't go meet her. He had just been possessed by the ghost of a druid and wasn't feeling especially welcoming.

He hoped Percival would join him and skip the celebrations but, even though Percival was Elyan's best friend, he didn't know Gwen well enough to be upset by the arrival of the Nemeth Court. He also didn't want to let Arthur down. Which left Elyan stuck with Gwaine.

Gwaine didn't mind letting Arthur down.

Normally, being alone in the palace with the drunk knight for a whole day would have irritated him, but he could tell something was off this time. Underneath the laughing pretense of trying to cheer Elyan up, Gwaine seemed pretty upset himelf.

They were playing dice on the floor. Gwaine was flat on his stomach, and Elyan sitting up, forearm and clenched fist against his knee. After a few rounds that failed to distract them, Gwaine's eyes darted to meet his opponent's. "He won't go through with it, you know," he said off-handedly.

Elyan snorted. "Won't he?"

"No. Gwen's still out there, so he won't do it."

"Gwaine," Elyan closed his eyes and exhaled, "I really don't want to talk about it."

So Gwaine shut up and threw for a few more rounds. When they saw the sun start to sink through the window, he stood, letting his dice drop unceremoniously to the ground. "She'll come back, someday," he sounded sincere, even though Elyan didn't look at him. "Everything will be alright."

Before the banquet, there was a knock on the door. "Elyan?" the king's voice called out from behind it.

Elyan straightened in his chair. "Come in, sire," he answered, keeping his eyes down. He'd known it was only a matter of time.

The door creaked open and King Arthur's blonde head peeked in. He looked so uncomfortable, Elyan almost wanted to laugh. "I hope I'm not disturbing you," the king said haltingly.

"You're not, sire," Elyan replied. He couldn't help staring straight into Arthur's eyes. It had the desired effect. Arthur flushed and looked down at his feet as if he was ready to bolt at any moment.

He didn't, though. Instead he cleared his throat loudly, and looked back up. "I…came to ask whether or not you changed your mind," he began, "—about making an appearance at dinner this evening."

It was Elyan's turn to look down and away. "If it's all the same, sire," he said slowly, "…I think I'd rather stay here."

Arthur nodded after a pause. "I understand," he responded. His voice sounded as if it was trying to hold itself steady. Elyan didn't know what else to say. "If you want, I could send Merlin up with a plate for you?"

Elyan blinked.

"Only if you want," Arthur amended quickly, "—it's just that we're serving a roast chicken with cranberry, I caught sight of it earlier and it looks delicious and I didn't think you'd want to miss it."

After feeling stupidly mute for a few moments, Elyan nodded. "Thank you, sire."

Merlin, tight-lipped and just as upset about the whole situation as Gwaine had been, brought him his dinner and Elyan did his best to finish it all. For the next few days, he made every effort to stay away from the path of the Nemeth Court and its princess.

He hated the way his ears perked up at the gossip about her, but he wanted to know who it was taking his sister's place. They said she was beautiful. They said she and Arthur seemed to like each other a great deal. They said she was a lady.

They said her name was Mithian.

He caught sight of her just once—her back was to him, and he only saw a pale golden veil covering long, shining waves of hair that played the light through the windows.

Arthur didn't go through with it, and Elyan felt suddenly better than he had in months since Gwen was exiled. The princess left straight away. He forgot all about her until half a year later, after Morgana finally lost her crown one last time.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in!" Elyan called absently, rolling up his sleeves. He wasn't even looking at the door when he heard it swing open and slam shut immediately after, "…Gwen?"

His sister was standing there looking straight ahead, back against the door, panting for breath.

Elyan raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding," Gwen snapped, eyes darting across door as if she could see through it.

"…What from?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Elyan, but the Nemeth Court just arrived," Gwen's voice sounded higher and faster than usual. He hadn't seen her this nervous since the first time she went to the palace to work as Morgana's maid.

"So?"

"So I have no idea what to say to the woman Arthur almost married after he exiled me, and no idea what to say to Arthur about the whole awkward situation, and I decided I don't want to have to be in the same room with either of them a minute longer than is necessary."

"Oh," was all Elyan could think to say.

"Not until dinner, at least," Gwen amended quickly, dropping her eyes and biting the inside of her mouth, "…I'm sorry. Merlin's out running errands for Gaius. Otherwise I'd go hide in his room like I normally do."

That apology stung more than it should have.

There was something very surreal, Elyan realized, about seeing Gwen dressed in her finest royal robes and standing in his room, rambling like she was still his sister the blacksmith's daughter. He'd hardly been alone with her since she was crowned, since after he cried to see her still alive.

"Have you met the girl yet?" he asked after a long and sufficiently uncomfortable pause.

Gwen sighed. "No."

"I haven't either," he blurted out. She turned to stare at him. "When she first came to Camelot I…I stayed inside at her reception."

Gwen's entire body seemed to tighten, and something dark passed through her eyes. "That would mean more, Elyan," her voice sounded strange, "…if you didn't also stay inside when you could have come to say goodbye to me." Ignoring his widening eyes, she opened the door. "I'll see you at the banquet."

And before he could say another word, she checked the hallway for the Nemeth princess, found the coast to be clear, and shut the door behind her.

She had every right, Elyan thought, as he sipped absently at his wine. Every right.

It was a gorgeous evening, and the feast a success. The people of Nemeth and the people of Camelot seemed to have very similar customs and dispositions, so all of the visiting courtiers chatted easily all throughout the meal. Percival and Leon had fun taking alternating jabs at Gwaine to make the Nemeth knights they sat with laugh, and Gwaine played off every joke well. If Elyan weren't so distracted, he might have rather enjoyed himself. Gwen's words, however, wouldn't stop replaying themselves over and over again in his head. When you could have come to say goodbye to me.

Arthur, Gwen, and the Nemeth king and princess were sitting at the head of the table. Elyan kept glancing their way, but only noticed the first two—Arthur looked happy, if not a little uncomfortable, trying to make the best of his awkward situation. Gwen was smiling, but Elyan couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.

He had absolutely no idea when he lost her so completely.

But that thought was interrupted by something even worse.

A familiar fire slowly rose and clenched in his chest. Subtly as he could, while Gwaine was distracting the rest of the knights' table with a balancing-goblet trick, Elyan left the table and then the banquet hall. Perfect timing, he realized—the dancing was just about to begin. There was no way he could look a girl in the eyes and smile, not now, not until it went away.

His steps carried him fast away until they reached the nearest opening to the balcony. As he swung the doors open, welcome blasts of cold air grabbed at his sweating neck and started chilling the links of chainmail weighing down his chest.

The fire spread, snaked to his stomach, to his eyes…the cold air he gulped gratefully in did its best, fought the quivering heat with all its might while Elyan's hands tightened around the stone rail that kept the balcony closed to the sky, kept those on it from falling…

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought no one was out here, I didn't mean to disturb—are you alright?"

A ragged gasp escaped Elyan's throat and his eyes shot open. "Fine," he breathed, blinking fast, clearing the spots in his vision before turning around, "I'm just fine—" he stopped dead. The girl standing there, staring at him, was lovely.

She was also the Nemeth princess.

"F—forgive me," Elyan stammered, darting his eyes away from her probing ones and bowing his head formally, "I apologize, princess."

"You were here first," the girl said, sounding almost amused. Elyan, realizing that the dizziness had gone, lifted his head. The smile on her face looked hesitant, but real enough. "What on earth would you apologize to me for?"

Elyan managed a weak grin. "Habit, I suppose. There always seems to be something I should apologize for."

If that was an attempt to distract her, it didn't work. "Is everything alright?" she asked, narrowing the eyes fixed on him. They were large and dark and not the sort of eyes that could be lied to.

He twitched his head no, turning away from her gaze. "Not something fresh air won't eventually cure," he said. It was as truthful as he was going to get.

No princess needed to hear about Morgana's snakes.

She didn't need to know that he had been safe and sound behind the palace walls for months since, but still sank to his knees at every black shadow that slid around every hallway corner…

The princess's fine eyebrows lifted slightly. "And is it working yet? The fresh air?"

"Better than a perfume-dense castle," he replied without thinking. A small laugh, like a surprised bell, escaped her mouth. And Elyan felt…something odd, a grin, quirk his own lips.

He told a joke. He couldn't remember the last time he did that.

The grin, though, was from watching her, and the way her eyes crinkled as she laughed.

...to be continued :D