I don't own Merlin.
/
Exactly one month of prickly meetings with Ban's emissary and his supremely overly dramatic son (creepily also named Lancelot, which weird's out all of the castles inhabitants), Ban retracts his statement on the grounds that he doesn't want to war with the single most powerful king in Albion.
All is well, up until the annual visit from Mercia commences.
Merlin's heart stops in a way it hasn't in months when one of the visitors, Sir Ceolwyn, throws a spike gauntlet at Gwaine in the middle of a nice, polite banquet, and openly denounces him in language not suitable for ladies ears. Among the accusations is the usual- he is nothing more than a false knight, he has no honor, he is an illegitimate child, he seeks the custom of higher ranked men to ensure that his position is kept. Arthur is rigid as a board through it all, hand tight on Gwen's, whose eyes are disturbingly wide. Lancelot, next to Gwaine, is already half out of his chair, face taut with rage, but he freezes when Gwaine's hand latches onto his arm. Slowly he sits.
Just as slowly, Gwaine stands, eyes dangerously cold. Lifting his goblet, he makes a brief motion of a toast and downs the wine in it, eyes never leaving Ceolwyn's face.
"My name," he says very softly, "Is Sir Gwaine. I am the son of a great knight who served under Caerleon and a true lady. I have more honor than you can hope for. And how I spend my time is entirely my own business. I will see you tomorrow, and for your slander you shall pay dearly."
He calmly sets his goblet back down, sits, and smiles charmingly at Lady Alianne, who goes bright red as he starts up conversation, purposefully ignoring the Mercian.