I don't own Merlin.
/
No horses this time- no vicious Guingalet to help attack if things went badly. Just Gwaine, a sword, a shield, and as much luck training afforded.
Merlin stands in his normal position behind Arthur, heart fluttering like a winged thing, but feeling calmer than he has in years.
The fact that Arthur and Gwen have their fingers tangled together and Lancelot is actually flirting with one of the pretty noblewomen who's turned out to watch the event probably has something to do with it, he thinks wryly, before looking over to see where Gwaine has entered. An enormous cheer goes up, to no one's surprise- Gwaine is popular, after all, and absolutely adored by all the young women of the court. He swings his sword in a lazy arc- a sort of wave to acknowledge them. Sir Ceolwyn, on the other side, ignores them all, standing silently in the corner.
Merlin watches him closely. He swore to himself when these sorts of things started happening that he wouldn't magic anyone who was fighting- fair was fair, and the last time he'd done it Lancelot had gone berserk and ranted the house down about honor and pride and how important it was to fight one's own battles and blah blah blah… Merlin had nodded calmly through the whole thing, and for once taken it to heart.
So, today Gwaine fights his own battles and it will be lovely, providing that no one dies, and Merlin is pretty sure that no one will.
Ceolwyn comes to the middle of the field, and Gwaine comes to meet him. Arthur stands, gives his normal speech, and two swords clash into a gyrating dance of steel.
He loves watching Gwaine fight, not that he'll admit it, ever, because it makes him nervous.
Gwaine wins, easily.
