The Wanderer

by BynWho

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfic for entertainment purposes only. All characters and plots from the BBC show Merlin belong to the BBC. All other characters and plots belong to BynWho. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Marian and Gwaine's friendship moves forward as he takes her to the tavern with their friends and the night is full of the unexpected.

Don't forget to leave a review!

The Tavern

Marian was both eager and nervous as she walked from the palace down to the Rising Sun Tavern. She'd been there before, of course, but not with a plan to… well, to get drunk, honestly. Afraid of the loose tongue that comes with drinking too much, she rarely went out for what Gwaine would call a bit of harmless fun. If anything happened—if she let her guard down for one moment the result could be devastating. Not only would her life be in danger, but the life of Merlin and Gaius as well. When she spoke to Gaius about it, he did his best to put her worries at rest.

So there she was, walking through the lower town with Gwaine, who would not shut up. He was telling her about different ales and stories of gambling gone wrong and which tavern was best in whatever kingdom he had been in at the time. Marian couldn't keep up with the speed of the thoughts pouring out from his mouth.

"Are you alright?" Gwaine asked when he noticed that her attention wasn't on him or his stories.

"What?"

"Are you alright? You're awfully quiet."

"Just a little nervous."

"Whatever for? None of us bite." He made sure she was looking at him before he wagged his eyebrows at her. "Unless you're into that."

Marian rolled her eyes. "No, it's just that… what if I'm too boring? What if no one likes me? I know you and your friends, of course, but I've never just been myself around anyone but you, Merlin, and Gaius. Even with Gwen, I try to hide some parts of myself."

"Why?"

Forgetting that Gwaine didn't know her secrets, Marian blushed when she realized her fuck up and tried to backtrack. "Because she's just… so good, you know? She's so kind and I'm afraid she'll stop liking me if she knew my history… the real and uninhibited me."

"You need to have more faith in Gwen. She has a good heart and I can tell there's a place for you in it."

"But that's just it. I was never a good friend before I came here. I was selfish and pushed everyone away because it was easier than losing the people I cared for. I hated myself, Gwaine. I hated everything and everyone. I was so bitter." Marian sighed. "Jesus, I've never told anyone that."

Gwaine stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Marian, you're going to be just fine. You won't lose anyone if you just be yourself and relax. You broke my nose and I still like you."

Marian barked out a quick laugh. "That was your own fault." She looked at Gwaine with resignation in her eyes. "I'm not like you, Gwaine. You make friends so easily. You're always yourself. You and Lancelot and Elyan and Percival and Leon… you bonded at your knighting. You're good friends and I can tell you're as close as brothers."

Gwaine chuckled. "No, beautiful, it's when I am myself that people dislike me. I can be crass and I'm well aware that I talk too much. But somehow those four oafs like me, anyway." He placed her hand in his. "If they can overlook my many faults, beautiful, they can accept any faults you think you have."

"I don't dislike you. And I hope you can be yourself around me."

"I've been nothing other than myself with you, love."

Marian smiled at him as they continued down to the tavern. Gwaine was ever the optimist, seeing the good in people—and a good time wherever he could find it. She knew that though Gwaine was honorable and good-hearted, he was also hot-headed and likely a rake. On the one hand, he was kind, compassionate, and always there to help a friend. And on the other, he drank and gambled and, as far as she could guess, was a bit of a womanizer, if the way he shamelessly flirted with her was any indication.

She wondered why Gwaine hadn't even so much as flirted with any of the maidens or servants. Maybe he preferred the company of men? Or perhaps he was trying to change his ways since being knighted? But then again, Gwaine had told her a while back that he'd not had any lovers for a year, at least.

The scent of alcohol and sweaty men hit as they entered the tavern. The air was thick and hot, making it difficult to breathe.

"Is it always this crowded?" Marian asked, leaning to Gwaine's ear.

"Not usually." Gwaine smiled when Leon, Elyan, Lancelot, and Percival—the boys, as Marian referred to them—came over to greet them.

Gwaine took a tankard offered by Percival and swallowed a mouthful of ale. "Thanks."

"We saved you a seat," Elyan said, pushing Leon out of the way.

Marian sat on the bench and swung her legs over. "Uh… thank you."

Gwaine sat next to her and signaled for another round. "Have you really not had ale before?"

Marian shook her head as she drew the tankard close enough to smell. "No, I've had Bud Lite, but not ale."

"What's that?" Leon asked.

"Shit," Marian said, realizing her mistake. "Er… It's beer. Watered down, shitty beer. I can't stand the stuff but my ex-boyfriend drank it. A lot."

"Ex-boyfriend?" Elyan asked.

"Yeah, someone you used to go out with or who you used to sleep wi—" She cleared her throat when she saw how bothered Gwaine was. "Um… next… to."

"So a sweetheart?" Percival asked.

"I guess so."

Gwaine looked at the table, a little more irritated than he thought he should be. "And you aren't sweethearts anymore?"

"Oh god no! I wouldn't wish that on anyone. He was a pig."

Gwaine smiled as his mood lifted once again. "Well, here's to your first taste of ale, beautiful!" he said, clinking his tankard to hers and taking a long draft.

"Cheers!" the other knights said, raising their pints in a toast.

Marian brought the metal tankard to her lips and took a small, cautious sip. Her eyes widened at the sugary taste, and she drank deeply. It was deliciously sweet and warmed her belly as it went down.

"Mmm!"

The boys burst into laughter as she gulped the entire pint down and slammed the tankard onto the table.

"That's sweet! I like it!"

Gwaine clapped her on the back and ordered another round for the table.

"You'd better go slow, Marian," Lancelot said after the second round of ale.

Marian cocked her head to the side and grinned. "Lancelot, I've had alcohol before."

"I'm sure." Lancelot ignored the look Gwaine was giving him and went on. "But Gaius's hangover remedy goes down about as well as Leon's rabbit stew." Lancelot grinned playfully at her.

"Was that a joke?" Marian asked, chuckling. "Honorable Sir Lancelot told a joke!"

Everyone but Leon joined her in laughter. "It wasn't that bad," he said, sulking.

The last mission they went on had been a disaster. It was Leon's turn to cook, so he decided to spice things up by adding mushrooms he found on the forest floor to the rabbit stew. The whole patrol had to return to Camelot as quickly as possible due to severe gastrointestinal discomfort. Close to dying from embarrassment when Marian was sent to check on them, they vowed to never eat anything Leon cooked again.

"Besides," Marian continued, "I've always found that a good breakfast and a lot of water are the best cure for a hangover."

Gwaine nearly dropped his tankard. "You? You've been drunk before?"

"I told you I'm not a prude, Gwaine."

Gwaine chuckled. "I'm beginning to see that, sweetheart."

Elyan stood to signal the barmaid. "Another round on me!"

She nodded and went to fetch another tray full of tankards. After she'd passed the pints around, the barmaid placed a hand on Gwaine's shoulder.

"Need anything else, love?" she asked him, batting her eyelashes and bending so that her cleavage was in full view.

For some reason, Marian's stomach dropped. She definitely didn't want to see Gwaine flirt with the… ample woman, and seethed as the barmaid tried to sit on Gwaine's lap.

"What?" Gwaine asked as he pushed the barmaid away.

"Fancy a ride, my sweet? I can make sure you have a good time," the barmaid said, even less subtle about her intentions than before.

"I don't… I…" Gwaine stuttered, for once at a loss for words.

Marian didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was the ale or maybe it was jealousy. She grabbed the front of Gwaine's shirt, turned him around, and pulled him close to plant a kiss square on his mouth. It was a quick kiss, but her point had been made.

Mine.

"No, thanks, love," Marian said while Gwaine just stared at her, his eyebrows high on his forehead and grinning like a fool. "He's already having a good time."

"Suit yourself," the barmaid shrugged.

Marian pulled her hand back and downed her ale in one go. "A friend of yours?" she asked once she'd wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

Gwaine looked over at her, amused. He couldn't believe it. Marian was actually jealous. "No, beautiful. I've never seen her before."

"Well, she's… friendly."

Gwaine rested his elbow on the table, his cheek on his hand, and he smirked at her. "Are you jealous?"

"What? No!"

"Can't handle that another beautiful woman is interested in me."

Marian looked at anything but Gwaine.

"Had to kiss me, did you?" he asked.

"Women like that prey on drunk men."

"Want me all for yourself, do you?"

"You can do what you like, Gwaine. I hardly care."

"Can I? Well, let me just call her back over and—"

Marian interrupted him, grabbing his hand before he raised it. "That's not funny."

"Here, drink this. It'll help," Percival said, placing a full tankard in front of her.

Marian downed the pint, refusing to look at Gwaine.

"She's the only friendly barmaid here if that helps," Leon said.

"See, beautiful? Nothing to worry about," Gwaine said, a smug grin on his face.

Marian took Gwaine's tankard and drank what was left. "I wasn't worried."

"Right," Gwaine said, unable to stop grinning like an idiot.

Lancelot shook his head and met the amused smiles of the other knights with his own. Marian and Gwaine's affection for each other was evident to everyone else, but they seemed oblivious to it.

After another pint, Marian stood, thoroughly sloshed. "We need a song! Sing me a song, Knights of Camelot!" she bellowed, falling back down onto her seat as the tavern filled with sounds of laughter.

Elyan set his tankard on the table and leaned toward her. "Sing a song from where you're from."

Marian bit her lower lip, hesitating. "I don't know… I don't really remember—"

"Should I go ask that pretty barmaid to sing us a tune?" Gwaine interrupted.

Lancelot's smile faded. "Gwaine, she's drunk enough as it is. It wouldn't be decent."

Marian scowled at Gwaine but stood. Propriety be damned, she was going to sing the infuriating knight a song no matter how much she fucked it up. "Fine, I'll do it."

She grabbed an offered tankard and took a long gulp, stalling for time. As she finished the ale, it suddenly came to her. The Lusty Young Smith was the perfect song to make them regret asking her to sing.

"A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing. His hammer laid by, but his forge still aglow. When to him, a buxom young damsel came smiling and asked if to work in her forge he would go." Marian sang, gently swaying. "Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Ho!"

The knights gathered around and listened closely. Gwaine kept quiet, drinking as he watched Marian over his tankard.

"'I will,' said the smith, and they went off together, along to the young damsel's forge they did go. They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather. They kindled a fire, and she soon made him blow."

She made a lewd gesture, and Gwaine spat his ale all over the floor and coughed hard.

"Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Ho!"

Lancelot pounded on Gwaine's back as he tried to keep from blushing.

Marian grinned when she saw Gwaine lose his composure. "Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire and he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so. Said she, 'What I get I get out of the fire, So prithee, strike home and redouble the blow.'"

As Marian made her way closer to him, she exaggerated the sway in her hips. If he wanted to tease her about the barmaid, then she'd embarrass the hell out of him.

He couldn't help but think of the things he wanted to do to her as her hips swayed and rolled. And the things he wanted her to do to him. Gwaine didn't know that Marian could be so… free with herself. And he liked it.

"Is it getting warm, Lancelot?" he asked without turning his head.

"Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Ho!"

He couldn't take his eyes off Marian's body as she gyrated in time with the tune. When she danced closer to him, he shifted uncomfortably, as the heat wasn't the only thing rising. If she didn't stop, she'd be in his lap with his increased arousal apparent.

"Oh god," Gwaine muttered.

"Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating, grow soft in her forge in a minute or so, but as often was hardened, still beating and beating, but the more it was softened, it hardened more slow."

Just as he feared, Marian swayed right in front of him before plopping onto his lap.

"Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her hips, bobbing in his lap, and her breasts bouncing in his face.

"Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Ho!"

His eyebrows rose when a mischievous grin spread across her face as she noticed his arousal beneath her thigh and she wiggled. The temptation to kiss her again was almost too great. Hell, if he could, he'd carry her upstairs to one of the rooms in the inn and eagerly work in her forge. Of course, that thought hardened him more.

Marian took the tankard from Gwaine's hand and finished his ale in one long gulp. His eyes followed a drop that spilled over and ran down her chin to her neck and settled in her cleavage. He swallowed hard when she stood from his lap and staggered over to Elyan, Percival, and Leon. The woman had no idea what she did to him.

Gwaine's heart skipped a beat when she looked over at him and smiled with the intensity of a thousand suns. He bent over, his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face in his hands.

"Are you alright, Gwaine?" Lancelot asked.

"No, Lancelot. I'm not. I think I'm ill."

"Ill?"

"Yes. My heart is racing, and my stomach… it feels like it's flying."

Lancelot chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Gwaine asked, sitting up.

"You aren't ill, Gwaine. You're in love."

"This feels different, though. Of course, I'd like to bed her—who wouldn't, she's gorgeous—but I feel…"

"Afraid?"

Gwaine's head snapped to Lancelot, almost insulted that his friend would think he was that weak. "I'm not afraid." He lied, of course, but he'd never say it out loud.

Lancelot sat back, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his feet. "Tell me, Gwaine. Have you ever been in love before?"

"Do you mean like admiring a woman's form? Her beauty? Wanting to bed her?"

Lancelot laughed again. "No, that's lust. I mean, have you ever felt like you'd die if you didn't see Marian, and soon? You see her beauty even when she's covered in dirt, and her hair is all about. You care for her above all else, even above your own life, and you'd stop at nothing to protect her, even if it meant you'd die."

"I…"

"Do you feel that for Marian? Would you die for her?"

"In a heartbeat."

"See? You're in love."

"Then I think…," he turned so that no one could overhear. "I think I fell in love when we first met, Lancelot. Is that possible?"

Lancelot sighed. He'd done the same with Gwen. "Sadly, it is possible, though it's not always requited."

"It's madness, this love business," Gwaine said quietly.

Lancelot chuckled to himself at the truth in it. "Yes, one would have to be mad to fall in love."

They sat in silence as they watched Marian laugh with the other knights. Her cheeks and nose were rosy, and her voice boomed with drunkenness. She wobbled over to where Percival was seated.

"Don't you think she's had enough, Gwaine?" Lancelot asked as Marian challenged Percival to arm wrestle.

"You're probably right." Gwaine laughed when Marian grabbed Percival's hand in both of her own and pulled with all of her strength.

Gwaine stood and walked behind her to settle the bill with the innkeeper. Unable to budge Percival's arm, Marian let go and instantly lost her balance, falling onto her backside at Gwaine's feet. She looked up and burst into laughter at his surprised face as he bent down to help her up.

"Upsy daisy," Gwaine said as he lifted her from the floor. "I think you've had enough to drink."

"Oh, don't be a party pooper, Gwaine! Let me try arm-wrestling Percival again. I must vanquish my foe! For the honor of Camelot!" She laughed.

"For the honor of Camelot!" Elyan, Percival, and Leon joined in.

"Sorry, beautiful, but it's time for bed," Gwaine said as he lifted her over his shoulder and started for the door.

Marian's feet kicked, narrowly missing Gwaine's face. "Oh! To bed? Why, Sir Knight, how dare you! I have a reputation to uphold! I'll not have some roguish fiend bed me this night!"

"Go to her forge and give her your red hot iron, Gwaine!" The other knights cheered Gwaine on, while Lancelot just shook his head. So much for Marian's honor. The entire tavern heard that.

Gwaine turned red from embarrassment and spun around to face them, Marian still over his shoulder. "I'll have none of that from you, Percival! As I recall, just the other week, you took some ale down to the stables and were gone for nearly an hour!" he teased and laughed at the look on Percival's face.

"That's because he's too big for the maidens of Camelot!" Elyan drunkenly exclaimed, and the other knights burst into riotous laughter as Percival blushed.

"How would you know?" someone in the back shouted, and the entire tavern erupted in laughter.

Gwaine spun back around and headed for the door. As they passed the barmaid, Marian reached out and grabbed a tankard from her tray.

"For Camelot!" she cheered and drank the ale as best she could, some of it spilling to the floor, and received several For Camelot and huzzahs in return. She set the empty tankard on a table as they passed, and Gwaine carried her out into the night, leaving the loud tavern behind.


After a few yards, Gwaine sat Marian down on the cobblestone road. "You have to walk the rest of the way, milady. I can't carry you that far."

"Are you calling me heavy, Gwaine?" Marian asked, a smile on her face. The night was chilly, but her cheeks were flushed in the moonlight.

"Not at all. I just can't carry you and the barrel of ale you consumed," Gwaine said as he started forward with his hand on the small of her back.

"I feel wonderful, Gwaine! I haven't had this much fun in so many years. Not since I left my parents and moved in with that ass."

"Your boyfriend, you mean?"

"Ex. Ex-boyfriend. And for good reason."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I finally understand why you drink. This is so freeing," Marian blurted, ignoring his question. She twirled in the street, laughing and reaching toward the stars. Dizzy, she stopped and leaned on Gwaine for support while they walked toward the citadel. "He drank to not feel anything. He was a miserable man who enjoyed making me miserable. But you…" Marian smiled up at him. "You're not miserable. At least I hope you're not?"

Gwaine chuckled at her concern. "I'm not miserable. I promise."

"Neither am I. Thank you for this. For everything," Marian said with a sweeping gesture that knocked her off balance.

Gwaine quickly righted her. "You're welcome. It's been good to see you let down your hair."

"You mean step off my high horse?" she teased.

"Something like that, yes," he chuckled. "What's the point of life if you don't live it, eh?"

Marian stumbled over her foot but steadied herself, holding onto Gwaine's arm. He worried when her mood subdued.

"What is it, beautiful?"

Gwaine's words had pierced through Marian to her heart. It was true, she had been living on borrowed time, fearing her return to her own time at any moment. Instead, she realized she should enjoy the experience of being in Camelot. Marian had seen what no one else had for over a thousand years.

"You're right about everything, Gwaine. About me."

Gwaine stopped and faced her. He caressed her cheek and gave her a small, tender smile. "Marian, love…"

"No, I mean it. I keep telling you I'm not a prude, but keep acting like one."

"Well, not tonight. Those songs, that dance…"

"You know what I mean," Marian laughed. "I've decided no more. I'm a different Marian now. Someone spontaneous who goes after what she wants."

Marian looked at Gwaine with doe-eyes and bit her lip. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Gwaine leaned in closer, licking his bottom lip. With his hands on her arms, he bent his head, ready to kiss her.

"And what I want right now is the privy."

Gwaine closed his eyes and chuckled, both disappointed and relieved she'd interrupted their would-be kiss. "I'm not surprised. You drank enough to fill the stomach of three Percivals." He ushered her to the outhouse in the market. "Here you go. I'll stand watch."

Marian took a lot more time than he thought necessary and was about to go in to see if she'd fallen asleep when she came out.

"About time," he said. "I was going to come in and make sure you hadn't fallen in."

He reached out to take her hand, but she drew back, panicked. "No!"

"What?"

"I peed. I need to wash my hands," she said, wobbling on her feet.

"Right. Uh…" Gwaine looked around for a water source. "Over here," he said, taking her elbow and leading her to the water spigot.

Marian rinsed her hands in the water as he pumped the handle. "Well, that was embarrassing."

"What was? Washing your hands?"

Marian laughed, drying her hands on her skirts. "No, having to pee. I mean, I know it's normal but having to do that in front of someone you…"

He waited for her to finish her thought, but she never did. Instead, a childlike giddiness overtook her, and her face broke into a wide grin.

"Come, I'll race you up the stairs!" she said as she took off inside the castle.

Gwaine rolled his eyes and ran after her, finding it a little challenging to keep up. At the top of the stairs, they both stopped and bent over to catch their breath.

"Remind me… never… to do that… again," Marian said between breaths.

"What's the matter? Too much ale?" he asked, panting.

Marian turned to smack his arm playfully, but instead, she lost her balance and fell toward the edge of the landing. Gwaine caught her by her waist but didn't let go.

"You should be more careful. We don't want anything to happen to that pretty head of yours," he said, his voice husky.

Marian smiled at him as she stepped closer, their bodies touching. And reaching up to touch her lips to his, she kissed him hesitantly at first, her lips moving slowly over his.

Against his better judgment, Gwaine returned her kiss and held her tight, a hand cradling her head. She tasted of apples and ale, and it was driving him mad.

When he didn't pull away, Marian deepened their kiss, pushing him back against the wall and opening her mouth to him. She was full of passion and lust. Her hands went to his head, and her fingers wound through his hair. Pressing herself against him, she gently bit his bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth.

A deep, guttural moan escaped his throat. Gwaine wanted Marian. He had since the first day they had met. And he was pretty sure that she desired him as well.

He glided his hand down and grabbed her round bottom, pulling her against his building erection. As she gently rocked against him, he drew his lips from hers and kissed along her jaw. Reaching her ear, he sucked on the skin behind her lobe.

Marian tilted her head back, allowing him access to her neck. She whimpered in delight as he kissed and nibbled down, biting when he came to the soft, supple skin at the base. She sucked in a sharp breath at the light pain, and as chills moved within her, a moan bubbled up from her throat.

Her breasts spilled over her dress, inviting him to press his face between them. God, he could die right then and there as the happiest man alive. It was as if Marian was made for him.

"Oh, god, Gwaine," she moaned. "You feel so good…"

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue inside and tasting her. Gwaine's heart pounded in his chest and his head became stuffy as the blood left to go down, down, down. His hands roamed her body, pulling her closer and closer to him as he lifted her leg around his hip. Gwaine couldn't get enough of her.

Marian grabbed his firm backside, and she thrust her hips to the bulge in his trousers, pressing against his full, hard erection. She pulled her mouth away from his and kissed down to his neck. Biting her way over to his ear, she sucked in his lobe and nibbled.

The hair on Gwaine's body stood, and chills of pleasure coursed through him. No one had ever done that to him, and he wanted it to never end. Moaning, he tilted his head back against the wall. He was ready to take her right there in the corridor. She'd probably let him, too. However, when he felt her beginning to kneel and her hands at his belt, he pulled her back up.

Taking every bit of willpower he had, he made her stop. Gwaine didn't want to take advantage of her in her current inebriated state—he doubted she'd even remember most of the night, come tomorrow. The predicament they were in was precarious at best. And coming to his senses, Gwaine placed his hands on Marian's shoulders and gently pushed her back. He sighed, licking the taste of her mouth on his lips.

Marian looked at him with dark, lustful eyes. She bit her lower lip as he brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She held his hands and brought them down to her backside, coaxing him to pull her close. With her bosom heaving, she ran her hands up his torso and pressed them against his chest, leaning into him.

Marian was giving him permission to take her. To do anything he wanted with her. She was practically begging him to fuck her senseless. "Take me, Gwaine. Come to bed with me," she said, her voice low and seductive.

It became more difficult for Gwaine to breathe properly. "Not like this. Not tonight."

"No, just like this. I've never wanted anything more in my life than to fuck you right now. I felt you in the tavern, too. All hard… for me."

It took the rest of his willpower to not carry Marian to her chamber and bed her. Gwaine's body was aching with need, and his arousal was evident. "You'd hate yourself in the morning, sweetheart. I can't let you do that."

"I wouldn't," Marian pouted. "If you don't bed me, then I'll just have to make do with my hand. And I'm tired of my hand, Gwaine. I need more. I need you."

"It's late, love, and you need your beauty sleep."

Marian sighed in disappointment but finally backed away from him, nodding in agreement. Through the fog of alcohol, she knew he was right. She would hate herself the next day, but not for the reason he thought. She would hate that she'd given in, that she'd formed an irrevocable attachment to someone she couldn't be with for the rest of her life. But most of all, she would hate that she would eventually have to break his heart.

She turned toward her chamber and tripped as she tried to walk down the corridor.

Gwaine tilted his head up toward the ceiling and took a deep, steadying breath. He couldn't believe what he'd done. There Marian was, throwing herself at him, and he'd turned her down. Twice. But what kind of man would he be if he took advantage of her drunkenness?

Once his body calmed and his arousal eased enough for him to move, he ran after her and caught her as she stumbled into a side table. "You'll never make it there on your own," he chuckled, helping her into her chamber.

The light from the corridor illuminated the room enough for him to see her start untying her dress. He cleared his throat as the garment fell to the floor. Having already had a hard time controlling his baser impulses, he looked away quickly.

"It's okay, Gwaine. I'm just getting ready for bed," she looked over at him as she untied her corset.

"Marian, we can't—"

"I know. I meant I'm getting ready for sleep."

Gwaine watched her as she fumbled into her bed, her bottom and her bosom bouncing with the effort, and he gulped as his trousers tightened once again. "I had better go—"

"Thank you, again, Gwaine. You truly are a good man. There weren't enough good men in my life before." Marian slid down under her blanket. "I think that's one of the reasons I'm falling for you." Marian yawned as she watched him.

His heart stopped. Did Marian just say she loved him? The things she'd been saying only made sense half the time, anyway. Gwaine couldn't decide if falling for him meant real feelings or just lust. Maybe it meant both. He desperately hoped it did.

"That and you're hot as hell," Marian finished as she settled into her pillow.

Gwaine had no idea what that meant either, but it had to be good.

"Goodnight, Sir Gwaine of Camelot," she yawned again and closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Lady Marian of Beyond the Seas," he chuckled.

Gwaine closed the door behind him and headed to his chamber, his heart soaring at the evening's events. Though he knew Marian would remember none of it later, he felt like they had become closer. If anything, he knew she was beginning to desire him. It was a start anyway. That along with the memory of their kiss in the corridor was enough to keep his nights pleasantly occupied for quite some time.

When the door was shut, and the room was thrown into darkness, Marian slipped her hand between her legs to relieve the tension that had built between them. Imagining her hand as his, caressing and touching, she called out his name into the night.


The next morning, Marian awoke with one hell of a hangover. She opened her eyes, only to shut them tight at the bright sunlight. The beating in her head felt like a tiny person was inside banging on a drum. Marian smacked her lips, her mouth tasting like something had died in it. Dragging herself from her bed, she stumbled over to her washbasin and splashed water on her face. Picking up her birch sticks to clean her teeth, she tried to remember the night before with little luck.

All she could remember with clarity were the first two pints of ale. After that, she vaguely recalled singing and laughter, but little else. She didn't even know how she ended up in her chamber, though she was thankful she woke up alone. She did, however, recall the erotic dream she'd had that night. It was about Gwaine and sex, lots and lots of sex, and for some reason Percival as a horse bartending in the stables. Although harmless, it was utterly ridiculous.

After Marian dressed, she staggered over to the physician's chambers only to find Gwaine and Merlin inside, the volume of their conversation so loud she almost stumbled.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Merlin called out.

"Mmph."

"Nice to see you, too, beautiful!" Gwaine practically yelled.

"Mmph."

"Well, I'd better be going. Thanks for the remedy, Gaius," Gwaine said as he returned the now-empty cup Gaius had given him.

Marian glared at him as he spoke entirely too loud.

Gwaine smirked at her. "Hungover? Need a hearty breakfast?"

"Mmph. Fuck off, Gwaine."

"Language, Marian," Gaius said as he walked over to look at her. Giving her a disapproving look, he mercifully handed her a cup of his infamous hangover remedy.

Marian brought the cup to her lips and downed the liquid in one go. "Ugh!" she gagged. It was even worse than Lancelot had said, probably because she knew what was in it.

Chuckling, Gwaine walked past her to the door, humming the tune to The Lusty Young Smith.

Marian fumbled the empty cup, dropping it to the floor.

"You alright?" Merlin asked.

Marian panicked and looked from Merlin to Gwaine. Surely she didn't sing that song! Not for real, right? Only in her dream? Then how else could he know the tune to a song that wouldn't be written for over a thousand years?

Gwaine turned and waved as he reached the door, quietly singing to himself and smirking at Marian's blush. "Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum. In and out. In and out. Ho!"

Damn him.