Gwaine hummed in response to a question, watching Krysia walking the corridor with Arthur, deep in conversation. He always felt strange about her wearing red and gold, but she insisted that as the Pendragons were her hosts, and in many ways the family that had fostered her, it was only right to sometimes wear their colors.
A hand broke up his vision, pulling him back to the conversation he was supposed to be having with Percival, who looked amused.
"She's only human, you know," Percival said.
"If you knew her like I do, my friend," Gwaine said with a grin, "you wouldn't say that."
Percival shook his head, and they walked for a while. Gwaine was thinking of the way Krysia had felt in his bed the night before, the warmth of her beneath his sheets, the smoothness of her skin and the gentle caress of her fingers.
On second thought, maybe he didn't want to even jokingly suggest anyone getting to know her like he did.
"If you are so easily distracted by her," Percival said, "perhaps you'd better propose."
Gwaine laughed as they stepped out into the cool sun.
"I've thought about it," Gwaine said. "I don't even know where to begin."
"What's so difficult about asking someone to marry you?" Percival said.
What was simple about it? If he asked in the wrong place, or at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, even if she said yes, what would she think of him? He didn't ever want to do anything that would make her think less of him.
"I'm not great with words," Gwaine said.
"Sure you are," Percival said.
"Not around her I'm not," Gwaine said with a sad smile. "And every time I try to express things in a pretty way, she just laughs at me."
Percival snorted and nodded to another group of knights who were passing with beams that would be used to repair the council chambers. He would say one thing for Krysia and Arthur as a pair: they seemed to be excellent at arranging things together. Gwaine had been sure it would take longer to get the castle back up and running to such a level as this.
"Maybe you need to practice before you ask her, then," Percival said. "Like, in a mirror or something."
"Tried that last week," Gwaine admitted. "It's too easy."
"Fine, then practice with someone else," Percival said, shrugging. "Pretend I'm Krysia."
Gwaine raised his eyebrows and looked Percival up and down for a moment. He laughed.
"No offense, mate," he said, "but pretty as you are, it's hard to imagine you as her."
"Would you rather just not propose?" Percival said.
Gwaine groaned. Fair enough, he thought.
"We don't speak of this," he said sternly.
"Don't worry," Percival said with a smile that seemed to suggest something. "I'm very good at keeping secrets."
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Arthur had turned his attention to major matters, and rightly so. Krysia, on the other hand, wanted to be certain that all parts of the castle were functioning, even before everything critical had been fully repaired. After three days of helping him oversee the repairs to the council chamber, she took a turn in the herb garden, pausing to check on the plants that had needed special care to recover from falling debris.
She paused, then, feeling that someone was watching her. She turned slowly, and she laughed when she saw Gwaine standing there, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
"I hadn't expected to see you here," she said.
"I…I was told by Sir Leon that I might find you here," he said.
He looked so nervous, she began to worry.
"What's wrong?" she said. "What's happened?"
"No, sorry," he said, forcing a laugh. "Sorry, this was much easier when I was practicing with Percival."
"Sorry?" she said. "Gwaine, what is it?"
He forced another laugh, then took her hands in his.
"My lady," he said, and she felt extra nervous then, as he never called her this. "My…my beautiful Krysia." He took a deep breath. "I…I've known that you were the love of my life from the moment I saw you stick your dagger in that stranger's wandering hand—" She laughed. "—and I believe that there is nothing more important, more precious than the time I have with you. I never want to spend a moment apart from you again—"
"Gwaine," she said, bewildered, "you're a knight now. We have resp—"
"I know," he said quickly, grinning. "Gods, I told him you were going to make this difficult. Krysia, what I'm trying to say is that I want to take advantage of every second I can be with you, near you, alone with you, existing in your space and sharing your air. And if you would…if you would do me the great honor, I'd very much appreciate it if you'd agree to marry me….to become my wife."
He said these last sentences in such a rapid, stop-start jumble that it took her a few beats to register what he'd asked her. He waited, anxious for her response, while it dawned on her that he was proposing.
"What, you're not going to kneel?" she said, weakly teasing.
"Damn it," he groaned. "I knew I was forgetting. Percival specifically said kneeling was—"
"Relax," she said, laughing. "I really don't need—oh, gods, Gwaine, get off the ground, will you? Yes, I'll marry you, now stop making a fool of yourself, will you?"
He let out a whoop of laughter and stood, lifting her off the ground and spinning her. She laughed, reminding him that they needed to be careful of the plants.
He set her down and pulled her in for a hungry, eager kiss. She felt slightly dizzy as he kissed her, and she wondered if he was going to suggest marrying right away. She knew they didn't have time for it, and she knew Gwen and Enid would kill her if she didn't plan a proper wedding. She pulled back from the kiss and said, "We're having an engagement."
"That's fine," he said.
"Which means it may be some months before we marry."
He hesitated, then said, "If that's what you want, darling, then I'll be as patient as I can. We…we don't have to…sleep separately until the wedding, do we?"
"Don't be daft, of course not," she said, and he sighed, pulling her in for another kiss.
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Krysia sat on her bed, watching Enid and Gwen tear apart her closet looking for the appropriate gowns for the announcement, the engagement tournament, the wedding itself. Krysia didn't see that it all mattered much, but she watched Gwen and Enid set a pale green gown aside with a silver headdress for the announcement.
"That one makes me look all one color," Krysia said.
"Hush, it's gorgeous on you," Gwen said, smiling. "Gwaine even said so the last time you wore it."
Krysia blushed and looked down at her hands. He had, in fact, said it, but that was a separate matter.
"This is her prettiest blue gown," Enid said, pulling out the one the royal seamstress had based on her father's crest. "And I know it's your favorite, my lady, apart from the silk. I think it would be an excellent wedding gown."
"But she's worn it so often, is it really special enough?" Gwen said. "This one's quite new."
"It's white, Gwen, don't be ridiculous," Enid said with a laugh. "Brides don't wear white!"
"The Lady Catrina did," Gwen said.
"She was a troll," Krysia said, smiling, "or have you forgotten? I could wear that to the tournament."
"Tournaments can be quite messy, Krysia," Gwen said, setting the white gown aside. "No, I think perhaps Enid is right. Let's use the light blue for the tourney and the dark for the wedding."
"Perfect," Krysia sighed, laying back and staring at the ceiling. "Now it's all planned and we can move on."
Gwen and Enid laughed, and Gwen grabbed her hand, pulling her to the dressing table.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Gwen said. "Now we have to decide what you'll do with your hair and your shoes and your jewelry. Arthur also wondered if you had any preferences for the menu at your wedding feast."
"I'm tempted not to get married after all," Krysia muttered, but her friends just laughed, gossiping about what they might do with her hair, if she would only hold still long enough.
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Uther stared at the dying embers of his fireplace as his son delivered what he presumably thought would be happy news, although Uther couldn't imagine why he would think that.
"Won't it be nice, father?" Arthur said. "We'll even have a tournament. And they're both terribly happy. I think Gaius once said there's nothing quite like a wedding to lift the spirits."
The prophecy, Uther thought bitterly. He'd never known Marzena to be so wrong about anything, but how was the House of Adaire supposed to join to the House of Pendragon if Krysia was going to marry this commoner?
"If you're up to it," Arthur said, "I'm sure she'd appreciate you presiding over the announcement. We were thinking of making it in a week. Of course, the whole castle will know by that point, but Krysia insists on taking things slowly."
Of course she did, Uther thought. The last time she almost married, she no doubt felt rushed and harried into the whole thing. Perhaps that was why she was marrying this nobody. She was looking for someone who was Uther's complete opposite. He supposed he could understand the impulse, but he was still certain that her destiny was much higher.
"And then perhaps you might preside over the tourney, and the wedding, if you're able—"
"Lady Krysia hates tournaments," Uther whispered.
Arthur fell silent, and Uther thought perhaps he'd properly chastised his son, but Arthur then whispered, "Just jousting, father. She's always loved jousting."
Uther sniffed and stood slowly, returning to his bed, shaking Arthur off when he offered a hand to help. He was already planning on being too unwell to preside over the announcement. Perhaps, given enough time, she would give herself the space to get over this ridiculous folly of a romance.
/-/
Leon hesitated before knocking on Gwaine's door, and he steeled himself, preparing for Gwaine's blissful smile that seemed ever-present since Krysia accepted his proposal. He was surprised, then, when Gwaine answered the door looking a bit dark.
"Gwaine," Leon said, frowning. "Is something wrong?"
"Sorry, no," Gwaine said, forcing a smile. It fell away as quickly as it came. "Actually, yes. I've never jousted before. Is she sure she just wants jousting?"
Leon relaxed, smiling, and he clapped Gwaine's shoulder.
"Is that all?" he said with a smile. "That's nothing, Gwaine. You're a good rider, you've got good precision. You'll make a fine jouster and a quick study. I'll teach you. Meet me before training tomorrow. We'll see what we're working with."
Gwaine relaxed slightly, smiling.
"Thank you, Leon," he said. He crossed to the window and said, "I thought asking her would be the hard part, but I'm starting to think I'm never going to feel relaxed."
"You will when all the ceremony is over," Leon said. "I guarantee she's just as nervous. She hates fuss."
"Exactly!" Gwaine said, throwing his hands up. "This just isn't who we are. But with her title and my knighthood—"
"I'll be over soon," Leon said. "I know, it likely doesn't feel soon enough, but you know that you love her and that she loves you."
Gwaine hummed, then brightened and said, "Leon, I needed to thank you. You've been gracious, helping me with—"
"It's nothing," Leon said quickly, feeling a dull ache in his chest. "You're a good man, and Krysia…she has had a great deal of heartbreak in her life. She deserves some happiness."
"Yeah, she does," Gwaine said, frowning. "Sorry, you didn't come to counsel me. What was it that you wanted?"
Leon hesitated, thinking of all the roles and tasks he was hoping Gwaine would help fill, but he could see that Gwaine's head was full of Krysia and nothing else, and it would likely be that way until the wedding. There was no use putting more on his plate than necessary.
"Nothing that can't wait," Leon said. "You haven't seen Elyan this day, have you?"
"Not since breakfast," Gwaine said.
Leon thanked him for his time and hurried out as Gwaine began to pace. The wedding couldn't come soon enough, Leon thought.
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Uther laid as still as possible as Gaius examined him, staring at the ceiling. He heard Arthur asking after his condition, but he did not outwardly react.
"Physically, sire, he is in good health, but I fear it is not a good day."
"I hoped he would preside today."
"Sire, do you think that's wise? I know he had…particular aspirations for Krysia's marriage, and given all the shock he's suffered—"
"Yes, Gaius, of course you're right. I will preside, but…"
The rest of the exchange was silent, and as soon as the door closed behind them, Uther sat up, staring at the fireplace, feeling a chill.
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Gwaine's hands shook as he tried to do the laces on his formal tunic. He let out a frustrated groan, and Percival batted his hands away, tenderly doing the ties.
"You're surprisingly good at that," Gwaine said.
"I used to have sisters," Percival whispered.
Gwaine felt the weight of loss in the statement, and he stood as still as possible, letting Percival finish off the ties.
"There," Percival said, taking a step back. He tilted his head. "She's a lucky woman."
"Are you joking?" Gwaine said with a laugh. "I'm the lucky one. She's perfect."
"No one's perfect," Percival said, smiling softly, "but yeah, she's pretty great. And you can both be lucky, you know."
Gwaine clapped Percival's arm and said, "You're a good friend."
Percival's smile went a bit thoughtful, and then he said, "We'd better get you to the throne room, or she might think you've changed your mind."
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Gwaine stood in front of the court, feeling lightly sick to his stomach as Krysia approached the dais. They were going to do this all over again for the wedding, he knew, but there was something particularly special about the crown-like headdress that covered her forehead in jewels, the delicate lace-like embroidery over her shoulders. He loved this green dress, although he knew it wasn't her favorite. He smiled to himself, knowing Enid probably selected it. That woman was a gem.
Arthur stood between them, taking each of their hands and holding them out toward the waiting crowd. Gwaine could barely hear him to understand, so loud was the rushing of blood in his ears, the pounding of his pulse. Krysia stood there with such grace, such poise. He was probably slouching. Was he slouching? How did one fix slouching?
Krysia was looking at someone in the crowd, and Gwaine carefully followed her gaze to the knights, where he saw Percival standing half a head taller than most. He almost thought that she was using him as a reference point of some kind, and then he saw Geraint press a bracing hand to Leon's shoulder.
Leon, too, looked like he might be ill. He nodded slightly at Krysia, who gently inclined her head back. Someone not watching her carefully might have missed the gesture altogether, and Gwaine smiled a little to himself.
He'd asked Gwen about Krysia's history with Sir Leon when he noticed how much Leon knew about her, and while Gwen had been vague and kept her comments to their being often thrown together as children, when Krysia served in his mother's household, he'd been around long enough to know men didn't look at childhood friends like that. It made it even more admirable that Leon had gone out of his way to aid Gwaine in the courtship, the proposal, and even preparations for the wedding. He might be the one standing here being announced, but Gwaine hoped that he had a love half as noble and as pure as he dedicated his life to Krysia as the one Leon was expressing every day, even knowing she was marrying someone else.
Arthur's speech wound down, and Krysia turned to him as the people began to filter out. She embraced Arthur and whispered her thanks.
"I tried to get my father to come, but he was too unwell," Arthur said.
"It's probably just as well," Krysia said.
"Why?" Arthur said.
Gwaine cleared his throat and said, "Apparently the last time I was in Camelot, the king shared some particularly scathing thoughts about me for Krysia's ears."
Arthur's expression softened, and he began to apologize, but Krysia waved it off.
"It's forgotten," Krysia said. "He's going to be unwell as long as he needs to recover, and that's that."
Gwaine took Krysia's hands and kissed them, feeling the gauzy material of her sleeves tickle his nose.
"Are you going to look this lovely at the wedding?" he said.
"Lovelier, I should think," she said, wrinkling her nose. "It's a far more flattering dress. Now, I needed to talk with you about that. Gwen wanted to sit you down and get your opinions about details for the wedding."
"Why me?" he said.
"I haven't a clue, but she insisted she needed your opinions."
Gwaine groaned and said, "Why didn't we just do a short engagement?"
"Because I didn't want one," Krysia said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "And every time Gwen mentions the wedding, I think it was a mistake."
"Just tell her to ask Percival," Gwaine said, leading the way out of the throne room. Krysia kept perfect step with him, even in her long dress and impractical shoes, such was the marvel she was. "He seems to know my mind better than I do."
"Perfect," Krysia said with a laugh. "Percival and Gwen and Enid can put their heads together and make all the arrangements, Arthur can approve them, and we can just show up."
"Well, I'm doing special training for a tournament," he said, frowning at her. "What effort are you putting into this union, exactly?"
She traced a finger along the lace of his tunic, and Gwaine stopped in his tracks, wondering how this woman who hadn't even had sex not a few weeks gone had suddenly become a perfect seductress.
"I'm coming to your room each night," she whispered. "And I promise I'll put in plenty of efforts."
Gods help him.
A/N:
To Like-A-Slasher-Film: I'm so glad the other chapter backlog was more to your satisfaction!
We will likely finish off this part well before the end of the year, and I'm hoping to get a decent enough start on Part 7, albeit still putting energy toward Part 1 (which is still in progress!) If you get bored waiting for Part 8, I really do encourage you to check out Part 1! You'll get some backstory that will foreshadow some of my big reveals if you read early parts, so it just depends on how you feel about order of events!
-C