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: Sir Gromer Somer Joure returns to Camelot to finalize the treaty between Camelot and Mercia but Marian and Gwaine are distraught at the price.

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The Tourney and the Treaty

"So what's this tourney for?" Marian asked as she and Merlin gathered medical supplies in the physician's chambers.

"Some knight is giving up land or something for Mercia. I think."

Marian turned from the cupboard and raised her eyebrows at Merlin. "So we have to have our knights beat each other to death because Lord Bayard got some land?"

"It's to celebrate the peace accord between Camelot and Mercia. Do either of you pay attention to anything said in the council?" Gaius asked, frowning at them both. "The treaty Uther worked for is going to be finalized. Lands in Mercia will be traded to Camelot."

"For what? What will Bayard get?" Merlin asked.

"No one knows. Even Arthur isn't privy to that information."

"How's that possible?"

"Bayard's emissary has the treaty and is bringing it to Camelot to collect the payment. It was signed by Uther."

"Why has it taken so long, then?"

"Apparently, there was some trouble with Essetir and Bayard forgot the treaty existed until recently."

Marian went back to gathering bandages. "I wonder who Bayard trusts enough to do that. Last I checked, he executed his advisor."

"Bayard has sent Sir Gromer Somer Joure."

Marian paled. "No."

"Yes."

Merlin laughed. "Let's just hope he doesn't bring that jester with him again."

Both Gaius and Marian scowled.

"Not funny," she said.

"At least Gwaine is in Camelot. It'll be easier to save you this time."

"Yeah, sure. Bring that up, why don't you?"

"And you know not to volunteer for magic tricks now."

Her eyes narrowed at Merlin. "I didn't volunteer, remember?"

He walked around the room, packing more supplies, and smiling like an idiot.

"Have you been at the wine cellar, Merlin?" Gaius asked.

"No, why?"

Marian rolled her eyes and pulled more bandages from the cupboard. "Gwaine's going to be intolerable if he finds out."


Arthur and the council stood in front of the palace steps flanked with Camelot's finest donned in polished armor and bright red cloaks, awaiting the arrival of Sir Gromer. The carriage that eventually rolled into the courtyard wasn't nearly as ornate as before, and unlike his last visit, no women accompanied the party. Mercian knights—large and broad enough to even make Percival look small—followed on horseback.

"Look at the size of them," Elyan whispered beside Gwaine. "We're supposed to face them in the tourney? We'll be mangled if not killed for sure."

"What's the matter, Elyan? Scared?" Percival teased.

"Not everyone is ten feet tall, Percival."

"I've fought bigger," Gwaine muttered.

Gromer exited his carriage, wearing the finest ivory silk tunic that money could buy, with lace cuffs fluttering down to the tips of his fingers. His coat was fitted tight with gold buttons, and white fur lined his cloak. Gromer's hair was perfectly coiffed, and his skin had a clear and flawless appearance.

"See there, Elyan?" Gwaine grinned. "There's a knight your size."

"A child could knock him down."

"Then I guess we should ask Mrs. Felton if her boys will enter the tourney, eh?"

As they chuckled, Leon turned and motioned for them to shut up.

"Welcome back to Camelot, Sir Gromer," Arthur greeted with a tight smile.

"I am honored to be here, Your Majesty," Gromer said, bowing with such flourish that Gwaine thought he was about to take flight. "Please allow me to give my condolences on the loss of your great father, King Uther."

"Thank you."

"Lord Bayard sends his greetings and his apologies for not being able to make the trip himself. His wife is to birth the heir to the throne any day now."

"The heir? I thought Bayard already had children."

"Daughters, sire. So, it would be impossible for them to inherit. There is hope for this child. Should it be a daughter, though, well…" he left the statement open, grimacing at the thought of no heir.

"I see," Arthur said, trying to keep his disapproval out of his voice. "Well, you may tell Lord Bayard that Camelot congratulates him on the birth of his son and heir."

"Thank you, sire. And may I say that I hope the union between our lands will be profitable for both kingdoms."

"I'm sure it will."

Gromer surveyed the party that had come to greet him and scowled at the sight of only elderly men and knights in the courtyard. "Is the lovely Marian not in Camelot anymore? I don't see her amongst the party."

Gwaine started at Gromer's question. He drew in a breath to tell the man off, but Percival elbowed him.

"She has other duties to attend to. I doubt she'll be free on this visit," Arthur said.

"Ah, 'tis a shame. Perhaps she'll be free for the tourney? I would like nothing more than to escort her."

Arthur winced, hoping—no, praying Gwaine would keep his big mouth shut.

Gwaine's nostrils flared as he started forward, and Percival put his arm out to catch him. "Don't."

To Arthur's dismay, Gwaine didn't heed Percival's warning. "Will you not be participating in the tourney, then?" Gwaine asked Gromer.

"I… no, I have no need to prove myself, Sir…?

"Gwaine." His words were clipped and his tone dangerous. "What a shame. I was looking forward to seeing your skill on the field."

Gromer turned to Arthur. "Do all of your knights have a lack of propriety, sire, or is this one feral?"

"You'll have to forgive Sir Gwaine. He's only eager for the tourney. No offense was meant."

"Oh, well then. That's alright," Gromer said, following the king up the steps.

Arthur gave Gwaine a pointed look to shut up and behave as he passed. Gwaine said nothing to Gromer out loud, but if looks could kill, Gromer would already be waiting for judgment from his creator. Thrice over.

Once Arthur and Gromer were inside the palace, the knights broke for their duties. "Who's this Gromer fellow, anyway?" Gwaine asked Leon.

"He's a knight from Mercia."

"A knight, eh? Looks like a pompous noble to me. Probably did nothing to earn his knighthood." Gwaine walked on with the others, taking a deep breath to calm his temper. "How does he know Marian?"

Without realizing the storm that would grow from his answer, Leon spoke. "He was here a couple of years ago with that jester. The one who ran away."

Gwaine stopped in mid-step, the muscle in his jaw pulsating as he clinched it. "You mean the one who kidnapped Marian."

"Yes," Leon said. And then it hit him. "Damn. Now, Gwaine, don't do anything stupid."

Gwaine turned back toward the palace. "Of course not, Leon. You know me. Perfect picture of propriety."

"He's not going to behave, is he?" Leon asked as Gwaine stormed up the side steps to the wing that housed the physician's chambers.

"No, Leon, he isn't," Elyan said. "You've released the beast."

"Poor Gromer," Percival said with a trace of humor.


"You want me to what?" Marian asked.

"Stay here during the tourney. Or better yet, for the entire week," Gwaine said.

"Why would I do that?" Her eyebrows knitted in confusion at his anger. But her face fell when she realized what, or rather, who raised his ire. "You found out about Gromer, didn't you?"

"I don't like him."

"I can tell."

"Please, Marian. For me?"

"You want me to miss the tourney that you are excited for and have talked about for days, to stay cooped up in here for a week?"

"Yes."

"No. I'm not going to do that, Gwaine. I'm not a doll you can just put away when you don't want others to play with me."

"I don't play with dolls, sweetheart."

"I'm not fragile, then."

"But he—"

"Is harmless. I don't like it either, but he's here, and that's all there is to it."

"But last time he was here—"

"Why is everyone bringing that up? You don't trust me to look after myself?"

"It's not your actions I'm worried about."

She put the pestle of herbs she was crushing down and laid her hand on his arm. "Look, I'll be careful. I won't go anywhere alone. In fact, I'll ask Merlin or Gaius to stay with me. Is that better?"

He lifted her hand from his arm and held it to his chest. "I guess. Just don't let him escort you to the tourney."

"Oh god, no. Don't worry, that won't be a problem."

"He's going to ask."

"And I'll decline."

"I guess that'll have to do." Gwaine let her go and paced, running his hand through his hair.

"You're still upset, aren't you?" Marian asked.

"I can't get what that monster did to you out of my head."

"The jester?"

"Gromer brought him here. And he…Your screams. I'll never forget that sound, love."

She cupped his face, her thumb tracing the edge of his beard. "And you saved me, Gwaine. I'm okay because you were there. And you're here now."

He nodded. "Alright. But if he lays one finger on you, harms one hair on your head, I'll run him through without a second thought." He watched her with fierce protectiveness crossing his face. He blew out a breath and nodded once, turning to the door and leaving the room.

Marian's eyes grew wide at Gwaine's threat.

"That was intense," Merlin said as he came down the steps from his room.

She jumped. "Jesus, you scared me. You heard all that?"

"Yeah. Do you think he meant it? Gwaine killing Gromer?"

"I do. What was that actually about, though? It couldn't have just been about Gromer. God, Gwaine was so angry."

"You can't be blind, Marian. Gwaine cares for you. A lot."

"I know he does," she sighed. "But you know I can't do anything about it, Merlin. Nimueh said—"

"If you give in, you'd be sent to your own time. But what if it wasn't true? What if we found a way to keep you here? Would you stay?"

"In a heartbeat."


Gwaine woke up the day of the tourney in a foul mood. If he were honest with himself—which he certainly wasn't—Gromer's arrival wasn't what bothered him. He knew Marian was in no danger from Gromer. The man probably couldn't even hurt a fly. However, the imagined threat to his safety wasn't the real reason he was irritated. It was the fop's interest in her that bothered him. His Marian. If Gromer hadn't been interested in the woman he loves, he wouldn't have cared if he was there or not.

"Ah, Merlin!" Gwaine said as he came down the corridor.

"Ready for the tourney?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. I was supposed to see Marian before I go out on the field. Do you know where she is?"

"Sorry, no. Last time I saw her, she was in the kitchens getting yelled at by the cook," Merlin grinned.

"She's not with Gaius, then?" Gwaine asked.

"I'm sure she's fine—"

Gwaine ran off toward the kitchens before Merlin could finish.


"Cook has let me make some of the meat pies for the celebration tonight," one of the kitchen maids, Sarah, said as she walked down the corridor to the kitchens, holding her head high. "Do you think you'll get to go?"

"I hope so," Marian said. "It's not a proper feast, so I doubt they'll need as many servers. What about you?"

"We can go to the tourney this afternoon as long as our prep work is done, but Cook said we couldn't go upstairs to the hall for the celebration because we may be needed to make more food."

"Are you looking forward to the tourney?"

Sarah nodded, a blush creeping up her neck to her face and ears. "I enjoy watching the knights. That Sir Elyan is—"

"Well, well. What have we here?" Cal, the largest of Gromer's party, came out from around the corner. He was huge, easily a foot taller than Percival, and nearly as wide. Day-old scruff covered his face, and his hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in weeks. "Two pretty girls like you shouldn't go about the castle without an escort. You never know what trouble you'll get into." He looked Sarah up and down and licked his lips. "Never know what a man has on his mind, seeing a buxom wench like you." He pushed between Marian and Sarah, standing too close to the kitchen maid for comfort.

"Excuse me," Marian said, walking around the behemoth to stand next to Sarah. "We're just on our way to the kitchens. So if you don't mind, we'll be on our way before we're missed."

Cal laughed. "Oh, I'm sure this little one won't be missed for a while. I need to blow off some steam before the tourney and the wench looks very satisfying."

"I-I have work to do," Sarah squeaked.

"You'll have to get your jollies elsewhere, I'm afraid." Marian hooked her arm through Sarah's and walked off.

"Get back here!" Cal bellowed as he set off after them.

"No, thank you!" Marian called over her shoulder. They picked up their pace, but it wasn't fast enough. He grabbed Sarah's arm, yanking it from Marian's grasp.

"Let me go!" Sarah yelled. "I want nothing to do with you!"

Marian started forward, but he pushed her back to the wall as he pulled Sarah against him.

"You're going to service me now, wench, or you'll regret it." Cal turned toward the stairs, dragging the helpless kitchen maid with him.

"I'm not a wench! Let go!"

There wasn't much Marian could do. She considered her options. She could take the safe option and run away, letting this pig of a man assault Sarah. Or she could do precisely what Gwaine had begged her not to do and throw herself into harm's way, saving Sarah. Sure, she might get a black eye or two, but she would save an innocent girl. Moreover, it's exactly what Gwaine would do. It took her a fraction of a second to act.

"You heard her, asshole," Marian said as she kicked Cal in the back of the knees and elbowed his side.

His gait faltered, and he let Sarah go as he fell to the floor. "You bitch!"

"Run! Go get help!" Marian shouted to Sarah when Cal pulled himself up, and then she took off toward the kitchens, knocking the tall iron candlesticks over as she went.

"Marian!"

"Go, Sarah!"

Cal rushed toward Marian. "You need that spirit beat out of you!" he yelled as he reached out, but his hand swung through the air, missing her by inches.

With one last look at Marian, Sarah sprinted up the stairs and down the corridor.


Gwaine panted as he ran through the castle to the kitchens. He'd asked—no, demanded—that Marian stay with Gaius or Merlin while Gromer was in Camelot. And, of course, she didn't heed his warning. The chances that she would be taken again were slim, but if there was even a tiny chance of getting herself into trouble, Marian would do it.

He rounded the corner and ran into Sarah, knocking her to the floor.

"Sorry!" Gwaine reached out and pulled her up.

"Sir Gwaine!" Sarah shouted after him as he turned to leave. "You have to help!"

"I can't. I need to find—"

"He's got Marian!"

He stopped and faced her, his jaw clenching. "Where?"

"Just down the stairs, there."

Gwaine took off with Sarah in tow. That non-existent threat went from slim to as fat as an ogre.


Marian's back slammed against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

"Beating a woman wasn't what I had in mind, but it'll do." Cal cracked his knuckles, excited at the prospect of violence. "You'll learn your place today, wench. Then I'll find your pretty little friend and show her what it means to say no to me."

Catching her breath, Marian reared her fist back and punched him square in the jaw. Caught unawares, Cal fell flat on his ass, cursing up a storm as Marian shook her pained hand.

Gwaine and Sarah rounded the corner and slid to a stop just in time to see Marian's punch. He rushed forward, hurdling over the mess of candlesticks on the floor, when Cal stood on shaky legs.

"You'll pay for that!" Cal grabbed Marian by the front of her dress, lifting her inches above the floor, and pulled his arm back, fist balled and ready to punch.

Marian closed her eyes, ready for the blow. But it didn't come.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Gwaine holding Cal's fist, having blocked the punch.

"You'll want to be careful. I don't take too kindly to hitting women."

Cal dropped Marian and pulled his fist from Gwaine's grasp. "This is none of your business."

Gwaine's nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm his temper. He looked sideways. "You alright, Marian?"

"Now that you're here, yes," Marian said, inching over behind Gwaine and grabbing Sarah's hand, in case they needed to bolt.

"You have a problem with me?" Cal asked, stepping forward to loom over Gwaine.

Gwaine's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, preparing to draw, and tilted his head up to look Cal square in the eye. "I do."

"You gonna do something about it, then?"

As his hand twitched over his sword, Gwaine felt Marian's hand on his fingers, giving them a light squeeze in warning. "Let's save it for the field. I'd hate to injure the ladies while I put you on your arse," he said with a smirk.

Cal pushed his finger into Gwaine's chest. "I'll be there to teach Camelot's knights what it means to be a proper knight and not some nanny to the king."

Gwaine started forward, pulling on his blade but not quite drawing it. Marian grabbed his shoulder as Cal laughed at him and left.

"Let's get you back, Sarah," Marian said as they turned around toward the kitchens.

"I can't believe Bayard is stupid enough to send a man like that to Camelot for a peace treaty," Gwaine said, looking over his shoulder as Cal disappeared up the stairs. "We've had our differences with Mercia, but that man's a thug, not a knight."

"You're right," Sarah said as they arrived. "He's not a knight, but some kind of mercenary."

"Why would Bayard hire him?" Marian asked.

"Lord Bayard didn't, though. Mary and I were in the tavern for supper last night, and I overheard him say he's loyal to some lord in the south of Mercia."

"Can he actually enter the tourney, then?" Marian looked at Gwaine. His face was tense and angry. "Gwaine?"

"Don't worry, love. He won't bother anyone else after today," he said.

"I'll be happy to see the back of him," Sarah said. "Thanks for your help, Sir Gwaine. Marian." She left to go into the kitchens, eager to tell the other kitchen maids of her adventure.

"Gwaine, don't do anything to get yourself hurt," Marian said as they walked back down the corridor.

"You're one to talk."

"I knew it. I just knew you were going to say something."

"How many times do I have to plead with you? You put yourself in danger, walking around by yourself while they're here."

"I wasn't alone."

"I doubt a slight kitchen maid could offer any protection." Gwaine looked over at her and broke out into a smile. "You did well, though. That punch."

"A lot of good it did me," Marian said as she rubbed her aching hand. "Thank god you came when you did."

Gwaine stopped, grabbing her hand to turn her toward him. "The very thought of the damage he could have done makes my blood boil, Marian. I'm going to make him pay."

"He's three times your size easily."

"You don't think I'm up for the challenge?"

"Oh, I know you are. That's what worries me," she said, reaching up to brush his hair from his face. "It would kill me if something happened to you, Gwaine. Especially if it was because of me."

He clasped her hand and brought it to his lips, caressing the bruised knuckles with a kiss. "I would fight to the death for you, beautiful. Never doubt that."

Marian searched his face and drew a sharp breath when she realized he was telling the absolute truth. With her voice small and raspy with emotion, she whispered. "Don't fight him. Please."

"I need to prepare for the tourney," he said, ignoring her plea. "Will you be alright getting back to Gaius?"

Marian blinked a few times and cleared her throat. "Yeah, enough people are roaming around now. I'll be fine."

Gwaine nodded and went toward the armory, leaving her confused and elated all at once. How in the hell is she going to resist giving in to her feelings for him?


"Sire, I am most honored to sit by your side for the tourney," Gromer said as he entered the royal box.

Already tired of Sir Gromer's groveling, Arthur nodded, trying to keep his eyes from rolling.

Undeterred by the king's silence, Gromer went on. "I'm looking forward to the celebration after." He sat down and leaned over. "I asked the lovely Marian to accompany me, of course. She said no, but we all know women of her standing would be elated to be escorted by a knight who's gained the favor of not one, but two kingdoms. It's a game to women like her, enjoying the chase."

"I don't think Marian is that kind of woman, Sir Gromer," Arthur said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

"Well, we shall see. She'll change her mind, I'm sure of it. In fact, I know she will after I—"

Gromer quieted as the gong sounded and the tourney began. Jousting was first, weeding out the weaker participants. Lined up on one side of the field, the Camelot knights sat patiently on their horses, while the Mercian knights were on the other. As soon as the flag was dropped, everyone took off before it hit the ground.

The sound of the horses charging and the wood cracking from the lances hitting their mark was enough to make Marian sick to her stomach, but she was unable to tear her eyes away, trying to keep her friends safe through sheer will.

After the joust ended and with some knights on the ground and others bent over in the saddle, injured, the three healers went to work. They worked quickly to bandage the sore arms and broken ribs, finishing only minutes before the next stage of the tourney was set to start.

Nearly half the knights were disqualified during the joust, and their name cards were removed from the leaderboard.

"Hey, see there?" Merlin said, nudging Marian in the side. "Gwaine's still up there. So's Percival and Elyan and… ah! There's Leon. You were worried for nothing."

"I still think this is stupid."

After clearing and preparing the field, the duels began. Marian stood between Gaius and Merlin by the hospital tent, biting her lip and wincing with every blow.

"Looks like Sir Gareth is out," Merlin said as guards carried the knight out of the field and to their tent. Gareth's card was removed and his opponent, Cal, moved up.

"I'll take care of him," Marian said. "I can't watch this anymore."

Gaius stepped in front of her. "I'll go. Gwaine's up next and you won't do Gareth any favors if you're distracted, Marian."

"I hate this."

"I know," Merlin said, putting his arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

"I don't understand why they do this. Can't they just go to the tavern to celebrate? Or eat a boar? Anything other than clobbering each other."

"For glory, apparently."

"Oh yes, it's so glorious to be knocked unconscious. Please, where can I sign up?"

Gwaine and his opponent took the field, swords drawn and held in front of their helmets. After a nod, they both swung the blades out in a sign of respect before the gong rang and the battle began.

The fight was quick. Gwaine took out the Mercian knight within mere minutes, the point of his sword held at the throat of the downed knight.

"Yield," the Mercian panted. "I yield."

Gwaine lifted the visor on his helmet and held out his hand to pull the knight up. "It was a good fight, Oliver," he said, clapping him on the back.

It continued like this for hours. Mercian and Camelot knights filled the hospital tent—suffering from everything from scratches to sprained shoulders. Only Cal's opponents arrived unconscious.

Soon the bell rang for an hour's break. Only four names remained on the board. Gwaine and Percival's cards sat on the Camelot side, and Cal and another knight, Ethan, were on the Mercian side.

Marian was filling up a water bucket at the well when Cal came up behind her, bumping her shoulder.

"Better watch yourself, girly. Your man is looking a little tired. I would hate to run him through by accident. Then where will you and your little kitchen wench be with no one to save you?" He knocked the full bucket from her hand and walked off, his head tilted up in laughter.

Marian shuddered, knowing that Cal was right. Though he'd never admit it, Gwaine looked tired. She hurried through the crowd to the tents that had been erected for the knights to rest and recuperate between battles. Setting the empty water bucket down, she turned and turned, looking for Gwaine.

"Marian! Oh, Marian!" Gromer called to her as he navigated the crowd with some difficulty.

"Fuck."

"I'm so glad I caught you."

Marian plastered a fake smile on her face and spun around to him. "Yes, Sir Gromer?"

"I wanted to ask if you would accompany me to the celebration."

"As I have already said, sir, I am not able to be escorted," she lied. "I'm to help the kitchen servants with the refreshments."

"Oh, tosh. I'm sure I can arrange for you to be free of your duties for one evening."

"Thank you, sir, but no." She began to walk away, still in search of Gwaine, but Gromer followed her like a lost puppy.

"You might change your mind when one of my men wins the tourney in my name."

"I don't think so."

"But I'm a knight of the highest Mercian order. Surely that alone is enough to tempt you."

"I don't care about that sort of thing."

Gromer made his first, and nearly last, mistake. He grabbed Marian's arm and spun her around to face him. "Every woman cares about that sort of thing. In fact, I can offer—Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"

Gwaine came up beside them and pried Gromer's fingers from Marian's arm, bending the appendages backward as he pushed the fop further away. "She said no."

"I… Well, I never…We'll see what the king has to say!" Gromer sputtered as he sulked off to the royal tent. "Brute."

"Stubborn, that one. I have a mind to—Marian? What's wrong?" Gwaine asked when he saw Marian's pale face and wide, terrified eyes.

She grabbed Gwaine's hand and led him into the nearest tent. "I ran into that mercenary again."

"What did he do? I'll kill him—"

Marian cut him off. "He didn't do anything. It's what he said that has me upset. Gwaine, he means to kill you."

"In front of all of Camelot? In front of Arthur and all the other knights? It'd be suicide."

"He made some remark about running you through."

Gwaine opened his mouth to reassure her, but she pulled him into her arms first.

"I'm scared, Gwaine," she admitted, hugging him tight. "The others have worn you out, and he hasn't even broken a sweat."

Gwaine pulled back and brushed the hair that escaped her braid back behind her ear. "I'm a bit more spry than you think, beautiful."

"I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't. But I've learned a few things from sparring with Percival. A man that big will be slower than me. I just have to stay out of his reach until he wears himself out."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"Well, then I'll have to go back to my tavern brawl days," Gwaine laughed.

"This isn't funny."

"I had to try." Gwaine pulled her back in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Everything will be alright, beautiful. I swear it."


Everything wasn't alright. Gwaine beat Ethan but Cal nearly killed Percival during their match. Cal fought dirty and hard, giving little care for rules or etiquette, and quickly bested him. Gwaine and Cal were up for the last battle of the tourney. Gwaine still looked exhausted and sweaty, and Cal looked like he'd just woken up from a rejuvenating nap.

Putting their helmets back on, they took the field. There were no pleasantries, no respectful gestures instead, they circled each other like wolves after prey. Cal charged Gwaine right as the gong sounded, taking the knight by surprise. Flat on his back, Gwaine rolled left then right, avoiding Cal's blade.

Once he could get up, Gwaine threw his helmet off and held his sword at the ready. Cal went for him again but he was prepared this time. He jumped to the side and kicked Cal as he ran past. They continued for several more minutes. It looked like Gwaine had gained the upper hand, but Cal easily turned the tides in his favor. Gwaine had been right, though. Cal was slower. And with luck, a lot stupider too.

"Tell me what's it like being so brainless and ugly?" Gwaine said. "Can't get any respect. Can't get any women."

"I'll have mine once I win this, I swear it. I've a mind to take your pretty little girl and the kitchen wench with me too. Spoils to the winner and all that."

Gwaine screamed, and, enraged by Cal's taunts, ran past him. He bounced off the wooden barrier behind Cal and jumped onto his back. He had Cal in a choke hold as the mercenary spun and spun. Gwaine squeezed his arm, and Cal slowed but didn't fall.

Marian grabbed Merlin's sleeve as she watched Cal flip Gwaine off his back. "Oh god!"

Gwaine rolled when he landed and popped back up. Once Cal was within reach, he reared back and punched him in the jaw, sending him to the ground. Picking up his sword, Gwaine pointed the blade at Cal's neck.

"Do you yield?"

Cal said nothing.

"DO YOU YIELD?"

Cal held his hands up and the audience went wild.

Marian couldn't believe it. Gwaine had won. She hugged Merlin and Gaius, jumping up and down in excitement. When she looked back, she met Gwaine's grin with one of her own. He sheathed his sword and swaggered down the field, but a movement behind him caught Marian's eye.

Cal stood, dagger in hand, and rushed forward.

Gwaine's smile faltered at the look of panic on Marian's face.

"Watch out!"

As Gwaine turned, he drew his sword and jammed it into Cal's gut. The mercenary dropped his dagger and fell to his knees. The last look on his face before he expired was one of shock.

"Oh, the savagery!" Gromer shouted from the royal box. "I can't believe… I didn't know him well, Your Majesty. You have to believe me. It wasn't on my orders!"

"Calm down, Gromer. I don't blame you for his actions."

"Thank you, sire. Because I would never…" Gromer trailed off, looking to the field. Several of the audience ran onto the field to congratulate Gwaine, led by Marian. He fumed as Marian jumped into Gwaine's arms. "Is that…? Should she…?" He couldn't finish his thought while watching Gwaine pick her up from the ground and spin her in circles. "Isn't she a…a…?" Once Gwaine set her back on the ground she stood on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Why, I never!"


Gwaine was on top of the world. Dressing as quickly as he could after a hot bath, he rushed out the door, eager to collect his prize—100 gold coins. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to do with that much money, but he knew he would spend at least part of the winnings on something pretty for Marian.

He received congratulations and pats on the back as he made his way down to the celebration hall. Opening the doors, Gwaine was greeted by cheers and salutes. As he made his way to his friends, people shoved tankards of ale and goblets of wine into his hands.

"Drink up, Gwaine," Percival said holding up his tankard with his uninjured arm. "You've earned it!"

"Whoa, not too fast," Leon said as Gwaine finished his second ale in three long gulps.

Elyan handed Gwaine a goblet of wine and clinked it with his own. "To the victor go the spoils!"

Gwaine emptied his goblet and looked around for Marian, grinning from ear to ear when he found her. She stood next to Merlin near the back of the hall, bright eyes and a proud smile fixed on her face as she watched him take another goblet and drink it down.

"To our champion!" Arthur toasted. "Come, Sir Gwaine, and claim your prize!"

"It would be my pleasure, sire!" Gwaine handed his goblet to Leon and jogged up to the king as everyone clapped and toasted.

Even as annoyed as he was that Gwaine of all people won, Sir Gromer clapped his hands a couple of times, a disgusted look on his face.

Before Gwaine reached Arthur, he stopped beside Marian and pulled her into his arms. Dipping her low, he kissed her long and hard and with passion. He brushed his tongue over her lips, and tasting wine, smiled against her. Her mind fuzzy with drink, she returned his kiss. After only a few seconds, Gwaine righted and released her to uproarious cheers throughout the hall. Face red from the kiss, Marian stumbled forward, brushing her fingers across her lips and unable to speak or think or do anything at all.

"Oh, you meant the gold is my prize? Sorry about that," Gwaine laughed, winking at her as he continued to the front of the hall.

Marian smiled. Gwaine had kissed her. No enchantment. No ruse. Just kissed because he wanted to. Maybe it had been a joke. But maybe it hadn't.

Arthur held up a cloth bag that jingled with coins. "The prize: one hundred gold coins—"

"And a kiss," Gwaine interrupted.

"And a kiss—"

"But not from you."

"No, of course not—"

"From our beautiful healer."

"Yes, we saw—"

"I mean Marian of course. A kiss from Marian."

"Gwaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up so I can give you the purse."


Merlin knocked on Marian's door the next morning, waking her from a sound sleep.

"Merlin? What is it?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"Arthur wants you in the council chamber as soon as possible."

"Me? Why?"

"I don't know but he didn't look too happy about it."

"Jesus, what have I done now?" Marian said as she closed the door. "Let me get dressed. You go on."


Marian paused at the door to the council chamber. The tension in the air was heavy and oppressive, almost making her turn around and go back to her chamber. Arthur sat in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. Gaius and Agravaine sat next to him, and while Gaius looked resigned and tired, Agravaine looked positively gleeful. Merlin stood behind Arthur, his mouth in a thin line and Gwaine was leaning up against one of the pillars, his arms crossed—anger radiating from him. All but Gwaine turned to watch her as she entered the room. Instead, he was looking at the floor, his jaw ticking.

"What's wrong, sire? Surely I haven't done anything to—"

"No," Arthur cut her off. "It's about Sir Gromer. He's asked for an audience this evening and he wants you to be there."

"I don't understand. Why does Sir Gromer want to see me?"

Arthur drew in a long breath and sighed. "Apparently, in the treaty with Mercia, my father promised an exchange for a large parcel of land that Gromer owns just inside Camelot's border. Gromer made good on his end, so now it's time for Camelot to keep our end of the bargain."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're to marry him," Gwaine said, his voice cracking as he held in his temper. "That's what Uther signed in the treaty."

Marian went pale. "Wait, what? That… no. The answer is no, right? You told him no, didn't you?"

Arthur didn't answer, unable to look at her.

"What the hell, Arthur?"

"Marian…" Gaius warned.

"No. There's no Marian. This is my life you're all playing with. I won't do it."

Agravaine's lip curled as he leaned forward. "If you do not, it would mean an end to the treaty with Mercia and hundreds will die when they attack."

"Don't put this on me, Agravaine. I won't be manipulated by you. Figure it out with the council. Don't tell me I'm responsible for this because I'm not going to marry anyone and no one on this Earth can make me."

"You don't have a choice," Agravaine said.

"I'm not property. I have a choice. I always have a choice. Just because you don't take no for an answer doesn't mean—"

"Marian," Arthur warned.

She looked to Gwaine, panicked. "Are you just going to stand there and not say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can't make her marry against her will or she can make up her own mind. Or am I to just do what I'm told with no regard for my own happiness?"

Gwaine dropped his arms and turned his gaze away from her, ashamed and angry. He frowned as he took deep breaths. His temper had been tested a lot recently, and it seemed that forcing Marian to marry would be the breaking point that would shatter his fragile hold on it.

"Marian, our hands are tied," Arthur said.

"Arthur, there has to be another way," Merlin said. "Something, anything. A duel? A game of dice? Maybe Marian can just disappear for a while? A fake kidnapping?"

"Merlin," Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, "If there was another feasible way, I'd take it."

"We can't make Marian marry against her will, Arthur. Especially to a man like him. It was wrong of Uther to promise that."

"I know, Merlin," Arthur said, raising his voice. "Don't you think I know that?"

"Perhaps there is another option, sire," Gaius finally spoke up.

"What is it, Gaius?"

"What if we helped Sir Gromer to realize the match wouldn't be in his best interest?"

"How could we possibly do that?"

"Sir Gromer seems to have a particular view of the world." Gaius raised his eyebrows. "One that I'm sure few here would agree with."

"He's a fop," Gwaine said, a small smile settling on his face as he pulled away from the pillar. "This could work."

"What could work?" Marian asked, looking between them.

"He wouldn't care too much for a woman like Marian," Gwaine said as his smile grew.

"He would just need to spend time with her," Arthur said.

Agravaine scowled. "And what of the treaty? What must we give him in exchange?"

"I'm right here, so would you all do me the courtesy of speaking to me and not about me?" Marian shouted.

"Now, hear me out, Marian," Gaius said. "If you spend time with Sir Gromer, maybe share a meal or walk with him around the grounds, he will change his mind about you."

"And just how am I supposed to get him to change his mind?"

"Gromer won't like you once he gets to know you, love," Gwaine said.

"Excuse me?" Marian glared at him.

"No, I didn't mean it like that."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I meant that—"

"You think I'm so horrible, do you?" Marian stood.

"Well, no—" Gwaine started.

"My personality is so bad that it'll make him run for the hills, screaming just to get away from me?"

"I didn't—"

"Oh no, here comes Marian, the hag!" she yelled. "I'd rather have a pile of troll dung than to be near her!"

"I didn't say you were a hag, Mar—"

"No one will want to marry me if I'm myself! Is that it, Gwaine? I'm destined for spinsterhood?"

"Not at all. Marian, I'd happily m—"

"Just be your horrible self, Marian. No one will want you then!"

"See? Do this! It's sure to frustrate Sir Gromer enough for him to change his mind about you."

"Insufferable!"

"Exactly! Be insufferable."

Marian yelled in frustration and stormed from the chamber.

"Was it something I said?"


"We've looked everywhere. Where could she be?" Merlin asked Gwaine as they walked down a corridor. They searched for Marian to reassure her their plan would work. They only hoped that they gave her enough time to cool down.

"We've looked everywhere. Where does she go outside the castle when she needs time to herself?"

The answer dawned on them both as they answered in unison. "The garden."


Marian sat on the ground in the middle of her herb garden. She'd built a safe haven ages ago, between the tall fennel bushes where she could sit for hours without discovery. Merlin and Gwaine walked to the garden to find her huddled on the ground, her eyes closed and her chin on her knees. Tear marks streaked her face.

"I wish Gwen were here," she said without looking up.

Merlin sat on the ground next to her and Gwaine crouched in front.

"Me too," Merlin said.

"She'd know what to do. What to say. Gwen would fight for me."

Gwaine sighed. "It isn't that no one is fighting for you, love."

Marian opened her eyes. "Really?"

"I don't want you to have to marry him almost as much as you. But these things take time."

"Time we don't have," Merlin said. "We're all to be at supper tonight and that's when he'll tell you that you have to go with him."

Marian sniffed. "Like hell, I'm gonna go with him. I'd rather die."

"Please don't say that," Gwaine said, placing a hand over hers.

"Okay, I'd rather he die. Better?"

"Much," Gwaine chuckled.

"Marian, I think we should stick to Gaius's plan," Merlin said.

"You mean the one where I'm an insufferable hag?"

"Gwaine didn't mean that. Did you?"

"Of course not. I just think you're too much for him to handle. That's all."

Merlin laughed and grinned. "She's too much for any of us to handle."

"I'm right here, you know. Keep talking about me as if I'm not here and I'll clobber you both round the head," Marian said, giving them a small smile.

"That's my girl," Gwaine said, standing and holding his hand out to help her up. "Feisty."

"Oh, shut up." Marian smiled as she stood and brushed off her skirts. "What time's this supper, anyway?"

"About an hour."

"Good. I have enough time to change into my hag costume."

"I didn't call you—"

"See you there!" Marian turned and waved, throwing them her best shit-eating grin.


The dining table was set with the finest wares Camelot had to offer. Two boar flanks, along with freshly roasted potatoes, carrots, and cabbage, were accompanied by rich cream sauces and the tastiest bread Audrey could bake. Goblets overflowed with red wine, with the hopes of keeping the company civil during the meal.

"Ah, there she is!" Gromer stood when Marian entered the hall and pulled out the seat next to him. "Please, sit—"

"There's a seat next to Gaius for you, Marian," Gwaine interrupted, taking the place next to Gromer.

Gromer narrowed his eyes at Gwaine but fell silent. Marian sat down and grabbed her goblet, downing the wine in a few gulps. If she could get drunk enough, she might just turn Gromer off so much so that he'd forget about the treaty… and her.

"You might want to take it easy," Gaius whispered as he leaned over to her.

"Not on your life," Marian muttered under her breath.

Gromer cleared his throat and smiled at her. "So, Marian, my darling—"

"Sir Gromer, perhaps we should finish our meal before upsetting the room?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, tosh. There isn't anything to be said that would be upsetting. Surely, doing one's duty to their king and country is a pleasure for all and not just those of us fortunate enough to be in high ranks."

Marian signaled for more wine, turning the cup up as soon as Merlin filled it. "Perhaps some bread on your stomach would be a good idea?" he whispered in her ear.

"Marian," Gromer said.

"Yes?"

"By now I am sure you are fully aware of the treaty brought on by the late King Uther and Lord Bayard."

"I am."

"And you know the contents of this treaty?"

"Yeah, I'm being sold off for land."

Arthur dropped his fork and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I-I…" Gromer sputtered. "Well, it's a little more complicated than that."

"Is it?" she asked, downing her third goblet of wine. She held it up for a refill but Merlin took it away and instead handed her a cup of water. Scowling at him, she took a sip. "From what I understand, without my knowledge or consent, I was traded like a horse to a kingdom I don't live in to marry a man I'd never met. And I'm supposed to grin in bear it for king and country. That about sum it up?"

"Well, when you put it like that—"

"How would you put it, then?"

Gromer looked around the table for support. "You'll marry a man with considerable wealth and the favor of two kingdoms."

"And what about love?" Gwaine asked, his gaze centered on Marian.

"My love for her shall increase each day the sun rises—"

"You mistake me, Sir Gromer," Gwaine said, his eyes never leaving Marian's. "Is Marian's love not important?"

"I'm sure she will grow to—"

Gwaine finally turned to Gromer, the muscle in his jaw ticking. "And you think her heart is easily won by gold and power, instead of friendship and trust?"

Marian blinked and drew in a sharp breath at the intensity of Gwaine's words. She didn't know if it was the wine or his smolder, but her skin heated and her heart pounded in her chest. Marian wondered if anyone else could hear it and giggled at the thought.

Gromer clenched his jaw, his mouth set in a thin line. "Love isn't necessary for a marriage. Marian will come to appreciate the comfort I would bring to her life."

Marian groaned and stole Gaius's untouched goblet of wine, drinking it halfway down. The room was getting a bit fuzzy, but she was determined to change his mind before the meal was finished. "Love is necessary for me. Besides, I thought people like you wanted children or heirs or whatever."

Gromer scoffed. "I know you don't understand the workings of the marital bed, my darling, but you don't need love to produce heirs."

"I don't understand the… Wait, do you think I'm a virgin?"

Gaius dropped his head to his hand as Arthur sat back and looked up to the ceiling. Merlin stood behind the king, smiling and enjoying the turn the conversation took. And with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, Gwaine took a long slow drink from his goblet, trying to hide his amusement. Only Gromer and Agravaine looked upset.

"I…uh…but…how…" Gromer sputtered. "Well, then you should know that love doesn't matter. It's not like you women enjoy being bedded."

"I generally find, Sir Gromer," Marian finished Gaius's wine, "that I do enjoy sex if the man is any good at it."

Gwaine choked and spat his wine. "Sorry, sorry."

"Perhaps," Agravaine said, "what Sir Gromer meant was that a wife has a duty to her husband, regardless of any enjoyment she may or may not get from… the act."

"And what about a husband's duty to his wife?" Marian asked. "Does a husband not have a duty to keep his wife satisfied?"

"Oh, lord," Arthur said, rubbing his hand down his face.

"The purpose of the marriage bed is for the wife to give him an heir. Nothing more." Agravaine said.

"Give him an heir? Do you hear yourself, Agravaine? What inducement is there for a woman to keep going to the marriage bed if her husband doesn't care if he satisfies her or not? We like to feel good too, you know. How much more selfish can you get, my lord? It's not only about the husband's pleasure for god's sake! I deserve to be pleasured too!" Marian looked around at the shocked faces of her dinner companions. Even Gwaine's eyes were wide and his face a little redder than it had been before. Her evil plan was working.

Becoming incensed, Agravaine narrowed his eyes at her. "Despite having a sweetheart," he said tilting his head toward Gwaine, "you will service your husband, pleasure or not. That is the responsibility of wives."

"I won't be servicing anyone. If I have a sweetheart, then he'll be the only one I marry and I'll decide if I want to have sex with him." Marian shook her head to get her thoughts straight. "Is that all sex is to you, though? A one-sided service? No, thank you!" She turned to Gromer. "And yes, Sir Gromer, women do enjoy bedding. A lot. We have sex to be intimate, not just so you can pop a bun into the oven."

"A what? I don't… all of this is beside the point. The treaty stands. Tomorrow you and I shall travel to my home in the north to be married."

Marian turned to Arthur. "Travel? That wasn't the deal. I'm not going anywhere with him."

"Deal?" Gromer asked. "What deal?"

"Don't worry, Marian. You won't be going alone," Arthur said. "I'm sending my best knight with you."

"Who?" Gromer asked. "What's happening? A knight?"

"I'll be escorting you," Gwaine said, smiling at Marian.

Gromer looked at Arthur, his mouth bobbing like a goldfish. "But my lord, that isn't necessary."

"Oh, I insist," Arthur said.

"Of course, my lord. But can we not have a different escort?"

"You have a problem with me?" Gwaine asked, facing Gromer.

Gromer sat straight, his chin jutted, and puffed out his chest. "As a matter of fact, Sir Gwaine, I do. I have a problem with anyone who makes advances on my betrothed."

"There is no betrothal, Gromer!" Marian shouted as she stood from her chair. "And I'll have anyone I please make advances on me whenever and however I want and there's nothing you can do about it! So, stuff that up your ass and bake it!" Wobbling, Marian left the table and stomped out of the dining hall.

Arthur, Gwaine, Gaius, and Merlin shared an exasperated look.

"I'll go," Gwaine said, pushing away from the table and following her.

"That went as well as to be expected," Gaius said.

Arthur sighed and downed his wine in one go.


"Think they can order me around," Marian mumbled as she crawled her way up the stairs. "Give him an heir. He'll be dead before he lays a finger on me." She stumbled into the corridor and ran into the table by the wall. "Pompous, stuck-up weenie."

And that's how Gwaine found her—drunk, holding onto a side table, and giggling at the word weenie. He caught up with her just as she tripped. "Whoa there, beautiful. You're going to take down the entire castle if you're not careful," he said, righting her.

"I'm careful. I'm just a little mad."

"Little? I think we need Gaius to examine your head, love."

"No, not mad mad. You know mad."

"Well, you certainly aren't making any sense. Let's get you outside for some fresh air, sober you right up."

"I can walk on my own, thank you," Marian said, going the wrong way.

Gwaine put his hand on her back to guide her. "Of course you can."

"I'm not gonna do it, you know. I'm not going to marry him."

After a few minutes of wobbling and stumbling, they arrived at the grassy courtyard, the stars shining, but no moon.

"See? See that, Gwaine?" she said pointing to the sky. "Even the moon has abandoned me."

"No one has abandoned you, Marian."

She leaned against the wall and looked out to the city. "I never thought something like this would happen. Not to me."

He leaned next to her, crossing his arms. "Something like what?"

"Falling into a storybook. That's what this is. I loved hearing stories like this when I was small. Knights and dragons and magic. I asked my mom about the princesses. Why were they always in trouble? Why couldn't they just save themselves? Why did they need a hero?" She faced him. "And here I am. In my own story and unable to save myself. I need a hero…will you be my hero, Gwaine?" She leaned into his arms, winding hers around his middle and tucking her head into his neck. "Will you save me from the dragon?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "I told you before that I'd fight to the death for you, Marian. I meant every word."

"Then marry me."

"What?"

Marian lifted her head and looked at him, pleading for help. "Marry me before Gromer gets the chance."

Gwaine closed his eyes and sighed. Though he wanted nothing more, he'd be damned if he was going to be a consolation prize. "You're drunk, sweetheart. You don't want this."

"God! Why is everyone telling me what I want?" she shouted, pulling away from him.

"I'm not trying to tell you… Marian, love, you're upset and you aren't thinking clearly."

"And if I was?"

"What do you mean?"

She leaned against him and placed her hand on his chest. Looking up at him with doe eyes, she spoke again. "What if I was thinking clearly and still wanted to marry you?"

"Then…" He swallowed hard. "Then I would do anything to keep you safe. Even if that meant you had to marry me."

"So you don't want to marry—"

He pulled her hand from his chest and ushered her away from the wall. "Why don't you sleep on it and decide in the morning?"

"I won't change my mind."

"I'm sure you'll barely remember it," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, beautiful. Nothing at all."


Marian woke up early the next morning with cotton in her mouth and boulders in her head. She had too much to drink at supper the night before and not enough to eat, but for the love of all that was holy, she couldn't figure out why. Sitting up to sip water from the cup by her bed, it suddenly hit her. An arranged marriage. To Sir Gromer. Uther's damned treaty was going to be carried out. No, wait. Gromer was convinced they would marry but she and her friends contrived a way to get him to lose interest. They'd travel together and then he'd see they had nothing in common. And Gwaine would escort them. Thank god for Gwaine.

"Shit! Gwaine!"

The entire evening came back to her. Gwaine had been nothing but kind and protective, and she tried to guilt him into marrying her to save her from Gromer. She groaned, ashamed she'd caused the hurt look on his face when she'd suggested it. He was like a kid at Christmas getting what he'd wished for all year and then had to turn around and give it to someone else. And she did that to him.

"You owe him an apology," she said to the room as she got up to get cleaned and dressed. "No, you owe him more than that. Jesus, how could I have been so stupid?"

With a quick detour to the physician's chambers to sneak off with a large slice of the apple cake Gaius made the previous morning, Marian headed off to Gwaine's chamber to apologize.


"Wait a damn minute!" Gwaine yelled as he tumbled out of his bed. The persistent banging on his door had been loud enough to wake the dead. He pulled his trousers on—hopping on one foot, then the next—and stormed to the door, shirt forgotten. Gwaine flung it open before the menace on the other side could knock again. "Mar-Marian?"

"Peace offering?" she asked, holding up the plate with the slice of cake. She winced when she saw the state of him. His trousers were on backward, he wasn't wearing a shirt, and his hair was disheveled and hanging in both eyes. "Shit, I woke you, didn't I?"

"What the hell are you doing here so early?" he asked, stepping back and letting her in the fire-lit room. "It's not even…Marian, it's not even light outside." He pulled his shirt on and tried to sit but his backward trousers pulled in all the wrong places. "Damn. Hold on."

She giggled as he went behind the changing screen. "Having difficulty getting dressed? You might want to see someone about that."

"It's not funny."

"No, you're right." Marian tried to rein in the laugh that bubbled in her chest but it was a losing battle. Setting the cake on the table in the middle of his room, she plopped down in one of the chairs.

Gwaine poked his head from around the screen scowling. "I'll ask again, why are you here so early? We're not leaving until light."

"Sorry," she cleared her throat, holding in more laughter. "It's just that you rarely see a Noble Knight of Camelot who can't dress properly."

"Marian!" he shouted.

"Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to bring you this," she scooted the plate toward him as he joined her at the table, "to apologize. For yesterday."

"You had every right to be upset," he said, breaking off a piece and shoveling it into his face. He realized too late that the bite was bigger than his mouth. "I'dff dun fe hame fing."

"What?"

Gwaine swallowed. "I'd have done the same thing."

Marian looked down at her hands. "No, you wouldn't have. I tried to manipulate you, Gwaine. You'd never have done that to me."

"Sweetheart—"

Marian cut him off, finally looking him in the eye. "No, I was horrible to you and I'm incredibly sorry for that."

He brushed the crumbs of cake from his hands and held hers. He sighed with a tight smile. "I understand, beautiful. You were desperate."

The look on his face was almost as heartbreaking as the one the evening before. "Not desperate, Gwaine. You're always the first choice, never the answer to desperation. You're the best friend I've ever had. I wouldn't trust just anyone to marry me to get out of an arranged marriage with a pompous… a pompous…"

"Weenie?"

"How…? Oh god, I said that, didn't I?"

"Not to his face," Gwaine chuckled, his smile genuine. "What's a weenie, anyway?" He leaned back in his chair and shoveled more cake into his mouth.

"It's… uh… a… cock."

Gwaine choked on the cake.

Marian stood to get him a cup of water. "A weak cock."

He choked on the water. "Not helping."

"Sorry," Marian said, grinning and pounding his back with her fist.

"I doubt that."

After Gwaine recovered, he stood to put his belt on.

"No, truly I am," Marian said, blocking his way. "Gwaine you deserve to be treated better than that. Please forgive me."

He held her shoulders and kissed her brow. "All is forgiven and forgotten, beautiful. Now, go pack. We'll leave in an hour."

"What about Gromer?"

"I'll go wake the weenie up. Maybe scare him a little."


"It should only take three days to get to my manor. We'll stop over at Hautdesert for a rest tomorrow." Gromer said, sitting high and stiff on his horse as they neared a clearing in the forest.

"Not used to the saddle, eh, Gromer?" Gwaine asked, smirking at him.

"If you must know, I prefer a more comfortable means of conveyance, Sir Gwaine. And that's what you have to look forward to as my wife, my love. All the conveniences that a man of my rank can provide."

"Yippee," Marian muttered from behind them.

Gwaine chuckled, reining in his horse to wait for Marian to catch up.

"Did you say something, darling?" Gromer asked, wobbling back to face her.

"What's at Hautdesert, anyway?" she asked, ignoring him.

"It is the home of a dear friend and neighbor, Lord Bertilak de Hautdesert, and his wife, Lady Hautdesert. You and Lady Hautdesert shall become close confidants, I've no doubt. Pennie—er, Lady Hautdesert is quite the striking woman, as you'll see. Beauty and kindness. You'll become great friends."

"Fat chance."

"Does this Lord know to expect us?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes, I sent word with my knights yesterday evening. He should receive the missive today."

"How do you know he'll welcome us?"

"Oh, he asked me to stop over when I told him I was coming to Camelot to collect my bride."

"Jesus Christ, Gromer. I'm not your bride."

"Not yet, of course. But soon, my love."

"We should stop for the night," Gwaine said, looking up at the darkening sky.

"Yes, that is a capital idea, Sir Gwaine. Marian and I can get to know one another better huddled around a campfire. It will be intimate as we sit in the warm glow of the fire with the darkness surrounding us. And you keeping watch from over there, by that tree. Alone."

"For the love of god, kill me now, Gwaine."

"Now, Marian dear, tell me about your parentage," Gromer said with a clumsy dismount and a near miss with the backend of Gwaine's horse. He rushed over to Marian to help her down before Gwaine would even have the chance.

"Not much to say. No living family," Marian said, swatting his hands away. "I can get down on my own."

Affronted by her dismissal, Gromer pursed his lips. "Yes, but who were they? A knight or…or a lord? Perhaps your mother was a lady in some faraway court?"

"Nope. My mother was in trade, and my father was a physician of the teeth. No noble blood runs in my veins," she replied, only half lying. With a retail manager and dentist as parents, her family was unremarkable, that was true. There was no money or title, even in the future. "Anyway, why would you assume I'm of noble birth if I'm working as a servant in Camelot?"

"I-I… well, I thought that a woman of your beauty couldn't possibly… well, that you—" he sputtered.

Marian laughed. "You thought that because you think I'm pretty I can't be poor?"

"Well, I had hoped—"

"I have nothing to offer you, Sir Gromer. You'd be better off wooing a wealthier woman."

"Perhaps beauty can be its own wealth?"

"Do you hear that, beautiful?" Gwaine laughed. "You're quite a prize to be won, then, eh?"

Gromer scowled at Gwaine, then turned his attention to Marian. "With your beauty and my gallantry, our children shall be extraordinary."

"Children? Our children? Not in a million years will I ever go to bed with you."

Gwaine stalked over to Gromer, and looked down at him, frowning. "Just what are your intentions on this journey?"

Gromer backed away, stumbling against his horse. "Whatever do you mean, sir? I intend to have what is mine."

"By any means?"

"Yes. Marian and I will marry once we arrive and my estate."

Gwaine rose to his full height, standing too close to Gromer for comfort. The muscle in his jaw ticked and his mouth tightened into a thin line. "I guess we'll have to see about that."

He looked as if he was about to beat Gromer to a pulp. Marian put her hand on Gwaine's arm, pleading for him to calm down. "Gwaine. It's alright."

"Go gather firewood, Gromer," he ordered.

Gromer could see the threat as clear as day. "The absolute gall," he huffed as he left the area to look for wood.

Marian watched Gwaine gather the sleeping rolls and frowned. Sure, he'd acted a little possessive over her a few times, but nothing this strong. As much as she'd like to remind him she doesn't belong to anyone, she decided it could wait until the threat of marriage was over.

Gwaine threw Sir Gromer's roll down on one side of the camp and carefully laid out his and Marian's rolls on the other. "Don't leave my sight for the rest of the journey, Marian."

"Why? Do you think he's going to hurt me?" she asked, looking in the direction Gromer had walked.

"I don't know, beautiful. But men like that aren't used to not getting their way. I would imagine he means to make you his, one way or another."

"One way or another? Do you think he's even physically capable of doing that? I mean, my grandmother was stronger than he is."

"Just stay by my side, please. Don't go off on your own."

"And what about when we're sleeping?"

Gwaine looked up at her and shrugged. "I guess we'll have to get comfortable. Maybe a little cuddle or two?"

"A cuddle or…if you think I'm going to…" she trailed off at the grin spreading across his face. "Oh, very funny. You're hilarious, Sir Gwaine."

"That's why you keep me around." He stood and sobered, brushing her cheek with his hand. "Seriously, though, Marian, don't worry. I'll keep you safe. I swear it with my life."

Mesmerized by the closeness of him, Marian held his hand to her cheek. Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of him. "Please stop saying you'll die for me, Gwaine. I can't imagine life without you."

"I'll thank you not to touch my lady in that manner, Sir Gwaine!" Gromer shouted, dropping the collected firewood in the middle of the camp.

Marian sighed and stepped back. "I'm not your lady, Gromer. Not now, not ever."

"You'll change your mind once we reach my estate."

Gwaine couldn't keep his eyes off her for the rest of the evening. She'd said that she couldn't imagine life without him. Marian may have meant it as just friends—but to him, it meant the world.


"Turn your back," Marian said as she searched for a place to relieve herself.

Gwaine grinned but stayed where he was. "Are you sure? You could get yourself in a lot of trouble in the time it takes to—"

She rolled her eyes and twirled her finger in the air. "Your back. Turning. Now."

"As you wish," he said as he turned. "But no running off with Sir Gromer while my back's turned."

"Haha. He's the last person I'd willingly go anywhere with." She eyed him, making sure he wasn't sneaking a look and then lifted her skirts to squat.

"Glad to know I rank above him."

"Just a little," she teased. "Now hush. I can't do this if I know you're there."

"But you do know I'm here. You can see me, so what difference does it—"

"Gwaine! I can't pee while you're talking to me!"

"Alright, alright. Quiet as a mouse," he chuckled, clearly amused. He smirked as he looked around at the forest in front of him. They were a good ways away from the road, so maybe Gromer had gotten himself hauled off by a wild animal. Or kidnapped by highwaymen. He sighed. No, that would be too easy.

Gwaine jumped when Marian came up beside him. "That was fast. Is that why you wore a dress instead of trousers?"

Marian smiled softly as Gwaine opened his water bladder and poured water over her hands to rinse off. His thoughtfulness and his care warmed her heart, endearing him to her even more. "To men, the world is a privy," she sighed as they started back to camp.

Gwaine laughed. "What do you mean by that?"

"All you men have to do is undo one fastening and you can wave it about anywhere, relieving yourself. We have to be careful not to have it run down our legs."

"Such a hardship."

"It's our cross to bear," Marian sighed, smiling at him.

Suddenly, a very red-faced and angry Sir Gromer stormed over to them. "And just where have you been? I've been worried!"

Damn. No wild animal. No highwaymen.

Marian rolled her eyes and brushed past him. "Call of nature, Gromer. If that's alright with you."

"A… a call of… With him there?" Gromer pointed at Gwaine.

Gwaine stepped up to Gromer's face. "You got a problem with that?"

"It's indecent! To accompany a lady while she… she…"

"While she was what, Gromer?"

"You very well know what. I will not have it!"

"Don't get yourself tied in knots. I had my back turned the entire time," Gwaine chuckled as he walked away and brushed Gromer's shoulder hard enough to make the man stumble.

Marian and Gwaine got back up on their horses while Gromer stood there sputtering and started back to the trail.

"Are you coming or should we just go back to Camelot and forget this marriage business?" Marian asked, a note of hope in her voice.

"No, we shall go on to Lord Hautdesert," Gromer said as he stumbled while mounting his horse. "But this is the last time Sir Gwaine accompanies you whilst you… you know. Or any man but me for that matter."

Marian pulled her horse to a stop and looked back at him, her mouth in a thin line. "Excuse me?"

"I will not have my wife whoring around the kingdom!"

Gwaine sighed and shook his head at Gromer's mistake. He'd learned the hard way that even hinting that Marian was a bedding wench would incur her wrath and now this poor bastard had thrown himself into the fire.

"Did you just call me a whore?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. What lady would allow such a man to see her in an indelicate state? I will not have it, Marian! When we are wed, you will forget Sir Gwaine ever lived. I can see now that I'll need to take you by the yoke and lead you back to polite society, not to this… this… this barbarian!"

"And now you've called me an ox."

Gwaine's eyebrows shot up as he watched Marian walk her horse over to Gromer and he waited for the inevitable blow up. He was anticipating the oncoming storm of her temper but was let down as she reached Gromer and, instead, whispered in his ear. Gromer's face paled and his eyes grew as big as saucers. "I never," he muttered.

When she was done, Marian came back up to Gwaine and kicked her horse into a trot.

"You learned that from him didn't you?" Gromer shouted after her.

Marian held up her hand behind her with only her middle finger extended.

"What does that mean?" Gromer asked in a panic, attempting to stay in his saddle as he caught up with them.

Gwaine smiled and followed her. "I think it means bugger off, Gromer."


Gromer was unusually quiet on the rest of the journey to Lord Hautdesert's castle. Marian enjoyed the peace as it gave her time to collect her thoughts. She watched Gwaine as they rode, wondering if he had a plan should Gromer not change his mind about marrying her. Though she only drunkenly asked Gwaine to marry since she was threatened by an arranged marriage, Marian couldn't help but fantasize about life as Gwaine's wife.

It was the second time in as many months that she entertained the fantasy and it only became more clear that she was in danger of giving in to her feelings for him. And to make matters worse, she couldn't help but fantasize about Gwaine in bed. Her heart rate climbed and heat rose from her skin as she pictured him in the throes of ecstasy. She wouldn't be able to take care of her arousal until they were back in Camelot, so this was needless torture. But she couldn't stop fantasizing.

Gwaine furrowed his brow when he looked over at her. She was red and there was a silly grin on her face. Deciding to tease her a little, he leaned closer to her. "Pleased?"

Marian dropped her reins, startled by the question. "Wh-what?" Did he know what she was thinking about? Was it written all over her face?

Gwaine chuckled. "You looked pleased with something."

"Oh. Uh… I was thinking about you—er, Gromer," Marian said flustered at being caught.

"Gromer? And that made you smile?"

"Of course not. I was dreaming of bitch-slapping the bastard."

"Bitch-slapping? Do I even want to know what that is?" Gwaine smiled.

Marian laughed, thankful she was able to cover. "Probably not."

"By the way, what did you say to Gromer back there? The man looked terrified."

An evil grin crossed her face as she watched Gromer trying to stay up in his saddle. "I told him I'd geld him if he ever referred to me like that again. Then I told him exactly how I'd do it."

"Remind me never to anger you, love."


They arrived just as the sun was setting and dismounted once they reached the courtyard. The castle, made of dark stone, had a foreboding presence—just as much, perhaps, as the man who greeted them. He was older with grey hair and dressed in fine clothes and furs. Despite his appearance of strength, any muscle he had was hidden beneath a thick layer of fat, making him appear larger than he was. Marian had to tilt her head up to see his weathered and battle-scarred face. The man was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes, which made her wary.

Next to him stood the most frail creature she had ever seen. Her hair, almost white in color, and her smooth, translucent skin were striking features. The softest of breezes easily pulled the silk of her dress, which was adorned with gold thread and fancy embroidery. She couldn't have been more than nineteen years old. The poor girl looked almost empty, standing beside the man, submissive and expressionless. She thought them an odd couple, with his large stature and her ethereal features.

She turned to Gwaine to see what he thought of her. Not out of jealousy, of course. Marian wasn't jealous of the woman's flawless skin or straight silky hair. Nor was she jealous of her slim figure and high cheekbones. Oh, who was she kidding? Marian envied the beautiful young woman standing in front of her. Which is why it surprised her that Gwaine wasn't even looking at the woman. Instead, he eyed the large man with narrowed eyes.

"Lord Hautdesert! Lady Hautdesert!" Gromer cheerfully greeted.

"Gromer, how many times must I tell you, call me Bertilak? There are no titles between friends!" Bertilak's voice boomed, rumbling in Marian's chest.

"Yes, Bertilak. Of course. Thank you."

"And who is this scrumptious lass?" Bertilak asked, leering at Marian.

Gwaine gave Marian's wrist a slight pull, attempting to push her further back behind him. But it was all for nothing. At the same moment, Gromer grabbed a hold of her elbow to guide her to Bertilak.

"This is my wife… well soon-to-be wife, Marian Ragnell," he said as she pulled her elbow from his grasp.

Lady Hautdesert's head shot up, and she looked between Marian and Gromer unable to hide her shock.

"This is my wife, Lady Penelope Hautdesert." When Penelope didn't move, Bertilak nudged her so hard that she stumbled. "Come now, Penelope. Don't be shy."

Admonished, Penelope bowed her head in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marian."

Bertilak turned his attention to Gwaine, expecting an introduction.

"Oh, that's Gwaine," Gromer said as an afterthought.

Gwaine stepped up to Bertilak with his chin set and held his hand out. "Sir Gwaine." He matched Bertilak's strength as they shook hands and looked him square in the eye.

"Ah, so you're one of Arthur's knights, eh lad?"

"I am," Gwaine said, refusing to back down. "His best."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither blinking. Gwaine's nostrils flared and his jaw set, refusing to be the first to move. Suddenly, Bertilak broke into a smile.

"Ha! I like this fellow, Gromer!" Bertilak bellowed, finally releasing Gwaine. "Perhaps we should put him to the test? What would you say to a small match, Sir Gwaine? Just you and me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lord."

"Please, call me Bertilak!"

As the others followed Bertilak around the corner to the field, Marian moved to Gwaine's side. "Please don't do this."

Gwaine leaned in close to her ear. "Don't worry, beautiful, this won't take long."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You don't think I could best him?"

"It's not that. You don't have to prove anything to these people. Especially if it means putting yourself in the line of fire."

"I'll protect you at all costs, Marian. And that means showing this lord that he has no power over either of us."

"So this is just a pissing contest, then?"

"A what?"

"The two of you showing off to see who has the bigger dick?"

Gwaine stopped and took her shoulders. The look on his face was serious and intense. He opened his mouth to speak but then thought the better of it.

"Don't look at me like that, Gwaine. You don't have to impress me."

"Marian, you need to realize that I don't always try to impress you. Right now I'm trying to protect you. If I back down, Bertilak, and by extension Gromer, will think they can do what they want with us. With you. But if I fight and win, I'll show them that because I'm stronger, they'll never get away with it."

Though she hated to admit it, Gwaine was right. This wasn't a joke or for fun. It was a battle of wills, deciding who would be dominant. "I don't doubt that you're more skilled than he is but you've also traveled for two days with little sleep. I don't trust him, Gwaine. How do we know it's going to be a fair fight?"

"Come, Sir Gwaine! Let us to the field!" Bertilak called out from around the corner.

"You worry too much, sweetheart," he said as he squeezed her shoulders.


Gromer followed Bertilak out to the field, speaking in hushed tones. "Be careful, Bertilak. That one is a hothead."

"Ha! He is but a babe in a man's armor!" Bertilak laughed. "I fought in battles before he was an itch in his father's trousers!"

"Yes, yes. But the man is a brute, Bertilak! He won the tourney in Camelot. He even killed your friend."

"He killed Cal, did he?" Bertilak narrowed his eyes at Gwaine, then as if slapped out of a stupor, he turned to Gromer and grinned. "Don't worry yourself, Gromer. It's just a friendly match. Besides, I've met with a High Priestess of the old ways and she has seen my future. This Sir Gwaine won't last long."

"A… a High Priestess?"

"Yes, the Lady Morgana. It was her who suggested I send Cal to Camelot with you."

"But why? I don't understand, Bertilak."

"As you well know, there's no love lost between the lady and Camelot's king. We must pick sides, Gromer. It's a shame that Cal was killed before he completed his mission."

"Mission? He had a mission? What mission? Was it to kill Sir Gwaine? It's not right, Bertilak. The king was there!"

"I should've thought you'd not mind if he had. Sir Gwaine is a threat to your marriage. The man has you by the balls, Gromer. Grow a spine and take what's yours."

"He has me by… oh Bertilak, you speak such vulgarity! I want the knight to leave—I don't want him to die. What has happened to you, my friend?"


"I can't believe you're going along with this," Marian said as Gwaine handed her his bag.

He smiled at her concern. "I can't be rude to our host, can I? If he wants a fight, then I'll give it to him."

"And should you be injured? I don't have any medical supplies with me, Gwaine," she warned him.

"I'll be fine, Marian. You worry too much. The only injury I am in danger of receiving is a broken heart should Sir Gromer have his way. And your medicines can't heal that," he said as he kissed knuckles.

"Gwaine—"

He dropped her hand and walked onto the field. He hadn't walked far when he spun around and smiled at her. "Besides, naught but the fair maiden's kiss can heal an injury to my heart!"

Grinning, Marian shook her head.

Penelope came up beside her and watched Gromer as he walked toward them. "You don't want to marry Sir Gromer, do you?"

Marian sighed. "No, my lady, I don't."

"Please, call me Penelope."

Bertilak and Gwaine met on the field and drew their swords. They brought their swords up in front of their faces and swung down, giving the customary sign of respect before the fight.

Penelope wrung her hands and stared at the grass at her feet. "If he wishes it, then mustn't it be so?"

Marian continued to watch the match as Gwaine quickly gained the upper hand. "Where I come from a woman can marry for love or for any reason she wants. Or decide not to marry at all." Marian spared the young woman a quick look. "Did you marry out of duty, Penelope?"

"My father commanded it."

Marian turned back to the match in time to see Gwaine knock Bertilak to the ground and kick his sword away. She sighed in relief when Bertilak yielded.

"A woman isn't property, Penelope. Remember that. You belong to no one else but yourself."

Penelope looked up and watched as Marian's eyes followed Gwaine. "If you do not marry Sir Gromer, will you marry Sir Gwaine?"

"What?" Marian gave her a sharp look.

"Do you love Sir Gwaine? He is handsome, and he seems rather fond of you."

"I… No, we're just friends."

"But since you are here, you have to marry, do you not?"

"I—"

Gwaine, Gromer, and Bertilak walked up to them, interrupting what Marian was going to say. Or what she thought she should say. She should have told Penelope that no one has to marry. But Marian couldn't help but wish she could marry if it was to Gwaine.

"To show there are no hard feelings, you must sup with us tonight!" Bertilak's voice boomed.

While Gromer appreciated his friend's hospitality, he was eager to get home so he could make Marian his bride as soon as possible. "Well, we… uh, we should… uh…" he sputtered.

"No, no, I insist! You will stay the night, too. It's the least I can do!"

Gromer looked defeated. "Oh, alright."

Bertilak clapped Gwaine on the back, making him stumble forward. "Wonderful! Now up to the castle with you all. I will order baths and have appropriate attire sent to your rooms."