Gwaine once again found himself in Lancelot's chambers. He was supposed to be at training but he really couldn't be bothered. It wouldn't be the first time he'd skipped training or patrols, the others probably wouldn't even notice he was gone. It would be more quiet without him but, since the dorocha attack he'd been unusually quiet anyway; always lost in his own head, thinking. The irony; all those times people had told him "Don't think, you'll hurt yourself" and now it did hurt to think because his thoughts always went back to Lancelot somehow.
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Gwaine sat on the windowsill in Lancelot's chambers, staring out at the forest. Lancelot was out on patrol that night with Elyan, Leon and a few trainees. Gwaine grinned when he saw the first horse, Flo, canter past the treeline, Elyan on her back. Then Leon on Daybreak, followed by the three trainees, then finally Lancelot on Faradei. As the knights rode into the castle grounds, Gwaine jumped away from the window and waited beside the door. He knew how far away to stand now, unlike the first time he'd tried this and had gotten almost knocked out by the swinging door. It didn't really matter, Lancelot was more careful when he entered now, but Gwaine wasn't about to risk getting another black eye and bleeding nose from the offending door.
As usual Lancelot opened the door slowly in case Gwaine was hiding in the room. Once he'd stepped in, Gwaine pushed the door closed and snaked an arm around his knight's waist. Lancelot looked over his shoulder with a small smile.
"Hello Gwaine."
"Hello Lance," Gwaine responded as he rested his chin on Lancelot's shoulder.
Lancelot walked forward without warning and Gwaine almost fell over. As he caught himself he looked up and glared half-heartedly at Lancelot, who simply smirked as he sat on the bed. Gwaine pouted and sat on the floor, turning his head away from Lancelot and holding his chin up like an offended child.
"You could join me you know," Lancelot said as he moved to the other side of the bed.
Gwaine didn't move.
"Okay, be that way, I hope the floor's comfortable," Lancelot shrugged and laid down facing the wall on the opposite side of the room.
Within a few seconds he heard footsteps and felt a hand ruffling his hair. He grinned as his eyelids began to feel heavy.
The next morning, at dawn, Lancelot opened his eyes groggily and saw Gwaine sitting on the windowsill again, one leg still in the room and the other bent against the opposite side of the window. Lancelot smiled at the calm look on Gwaine's face, the latter smiling softly back when he noticed Lancelot looking, before yawning, closing his eyes again and shifting into a more comfortable position.
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Gwaine found himself, once again, sitting on that same windowsill. It was a habit to look down at the castle grounds and the forest in search of Lancelot, Gwaine did it without thinking. He turned and looked back into the room; he still hadn't moved anything, still didn't want to risk touching anything. Merlin had found Gwaine earlier that day and had tried to talk to him. Gwaine tried to be his usual happy self, he really tried, but he knew that Merlin, and everyone else who knew him, could see straight through his act. At least Merlin knew what was wrong, although he avoided bringing up Lancelot in any conversations. He'd seen. He'd watched Lancelot walk through the veil. Because of that, he carried a lot of guilt and probably thought Gwaine was angry with him for not stopping Lancelot, but Gwaine didn't blame him for what had happened. The only people Gwaine blamed were the ones who'd opened the veil and the Cailleach, who had demanded a sacrifice to close it. Knowing who's fault it was didn't change anything though. Lancelot was still gone and wasn't coming back. But if only he would...
