Let it never be said that I don't follow through on bets. (or that I don't make stupid bets)
I bet Kat that she couldn't find fifteen genuinely funny lines in my fics. I write too much. She found twenty. Anyway, the loser had to write the winner a fic. So, this is for Kat. Kudos if you spot her in here. I made it super difficult.
It contains slash. That's a male/male pairing. Thanks to Maddy for putting up with me and helping me with it.
"Ah, Lady Gwynnen. Pray, pardon my rudeness, but when are you planning on accepting my proposal?"
The lady turned, smiling, and replied in the usual fashion, "Oh, not for at least another month. I am still too small to be worthy of elopement. Give me another inch."
Douglass grinned at her. Gwynnen was already several inches taller than him. "Aie, me. My heart shall have to last."
"Quite. I was wondering if you were going to come over and keep me company."
"Oh, my lady, I would have hastened here all the sooner had I known that you were wondering," Douglass informed her solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. "A lady should never be allowed to wonder alone, surely you know that!"
Gwynnen smiled and fluttered her fan at him. "Ah, but Squire Douglass, your memory has neglected to inform you how I laugh in the face of danger."
"And such a pretty laugh you have too," Douglass replied promptly. "It makes me think of sunshine dancing off the rooftops."
Gwynnen arched an eyebrow at him. "Silent?"
"Light," he corrected her. "Flowing. Beautiful."
"Transparent?"
Douglass couldn't help but grin at that. "You're spoiling my fun," he complained. "How am I supposed to get better at compliments if you never let me give them?"
Both of Gwynnen's blonde eyebrows rose this time. "I would if I thought I was the person you really wanted to be complimenting."
He affected a shocked look, widening his eyes at her. "My lady! Who else is there to compliment but you?"
She gave him a dry look and used her fan to point towards Sacherell, who was talking to a girl. Douglass watched as the girl tilted her head back, laughing at something Sacherell had said. She was certainly pretty, despite a slightly dishevelled look caused by her brown hair having come loose from its ties.
"You believe she is more worthy of my attention?" Douglass asked sceptically. He had no idea who the girl was, and it didn't seem very like Gwynnen to suggest something like that.
Gwynnen snorted. "Lady Katrina may well believe that. But that's not who I meant. Take another look."
Douglass scratched his nose, glancing at the dancers around the pair. " Cythera?" he guessed.
Gwynnen whacked him on the arm with her fan. Hard. "Squire Douglass, do you intend to suggest all the other women in here are more worth your time than I am?"
"You just told me one was!" he protested, rubbing his arm. "And ouch!"
She frowned. "Did I? I'm not sure I did."
He stiffened, narrowing his eyes at her, but did not speak.
Unfazed, Gwynnen began fanning herself once more. "What have you got to lose?"
"Sacherell," hissed Douglass.
Gwynnen's shoulders rose and fell in a slight shrug. "I'm just saying; the outcome may be well worth the effort. By all means, though, go on ignoring me."
"You'll have to let me know how ignoring you is possible first," Douglass said absently, finally releasing his upper arm. "Fine. But you get him away from that girl first."
"Consider it done."
Douglass had paced the path so many times he was sure it would just wear away soon. His heart had increased to an almost painful speed and his mouth had run dry. Sacherell was going to be there soon, and all Douglass would be able to manage would be croaks.
He almost jumped three feet in the air when somebody laid their hand on his shoulder.
"Sacherell," he said, attempting to smile.
Sacherell was having no problems grinning. "Jonathan rejected Delia. Finally. She looked so – hey, are you all right?"
"Yes," Douglass replied curtly. "Ah. Yes." He wished that he had something to hide behind. No wonder girls carried their fans everywhere. Not only were they very handy weapons, but a fan would be the perfect way to cover his face.
"Gwynnen said you had something to tell me?"
That was it. Douglass was going to kill Gwynnen, preferably with her fan. "Yes." He exhaled sharply. "Mithros, this is difficult. Just – just don't talk."
Mutely, Sacherell nodded, looking wary.
Douglass found himself unable to look at his friend. "Well, you see… She said, you know, she said that I shouldn't be paying attention to her – and I don't want to, because, well, I don't. It's just…" He snuck a glance at Sacherell, who was tight-lipped and not replying. "Well, she's easy to talk to, and… Oh, I don't know, then she was talking about my feelings, and what I actually feel, and she said I should just come out with it." He bit his lip. "So, ah, what do you think?"
"What do I think?" Sacherell echoed, sounding hollow. "She's a nice girl, that's what I think."
Douglass tried to translate this into a response to him, but couldn't. "Ah…" Then he swallowed tightly. "You like Gwynnen. Of course. I knew that."
"No, I don't like Gwynnen," Sacherell snapped back. "I mean, yes, I like her, but no, I don't like her."
Douglass frowned. "So you don't like Gwynnen."
"Didn't I just explain?" Sacherell sighed. "Look, I understand what you're saying. I'm fine with it, honestly. Well, I'm not fine with it because I told Gwynnen in confidence, but other than that, really, I think it would be easier on both of us if we forget all of this."
"Forget it," repeated Douglass. "Right. I can do that, I think."
There was an awkward silence for a few moments, before Sacherell said, "I can't believe she told you, though."
"It was more encouragement, really," Douglass said, a little defensively. "She told me I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. It's not really her fault."
Sacherell snorted. "Of course it is. She didn't have to tell you what I had said."
"She didn't."
"Then what are we talking about?"
Douglass gave Sacherell a very strange look. " Me. It's all right, though, I don't mind moving on, we won't mention it again. We can just be friends, that's – that's enough."
Sacherell considered this. "So you're not in love with Gwynnen. Then – who?"
Something had clearly gone very wrong, though Douglass had no idea how. "You."
Sacherell began to smile. "Why didn't you say so?"
"I did!" Douglass insisted. "Are you telling me you weren't-"
He cut off there. Or, rather, Sacherell cut him off with a kiss.
