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"Percival, where is your boyfriend?"
"My lady?'
Percival looked confused, possibly at how she was referring to Camelot’s shortest knight. But Gwen was not about to call that rat her brother.
"Where is your boyfriend?"
Percival's confused expression became the picture of innocence. "I don't know." She could've sworn she also heard him mutter "And he might not be my boyfriend for much longer."
"What?"
"Nothing," he said quickly.
"Well, I need to kill him. Will you help me?"
A smile was twitching Percival's mouth. "I really don’t think-"
Sighing heavily, Gwen spun on the spot and walked away. He’d been a foolish place to start, of course he was in on it.
"I like your dress."
She only thought she heard him say that too, quiet enough she could not openly accuse him in, for example, a court trial. She kept her head held high and headed with grim purpose to the room of someone more helpful.
"Gwaine, I need you to kill someone."
"Of course milady.” The rogue nodded and drew his sword. "Just say the word."
A broad smile spilt across Gwen’s face. "Oh Gwaine, I love you."
He nodded again. "I know. I like your dress by the way."
She looked sharply up at him, but there was no trace of malevolence on his face, just the usual half smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You do?" she asked suspiciously, looking down at the moss coloured velvet.
He shrugged. "I like green." He was completely sincere.
"Quite." She was still wary.
He raised his eyebrows. "You don't?"
Gwen pulled a face. "No," she growled. "It’s the colour of pond weed, why do you think you’ve never seen me wear it?"
"Well then why- ah." Comprehension dawned on his face. "I’m guessing this is why you want someone killed."
She smiled grimly. "Exactly."
"Can I know the full details of the crime I’m assassinating my target for?"
"You don’t want to know who it is?"
"Your Majesty, I’ve lived here for years. Do I really have to work that hard to guess who it is?"
"You do not," Gwen confirmed. "I woke up, and everything in my chambers was this colour. Ceiling, walls, floor, furniture, all my clothes. And I can’t reverse it, which means he had an accomplice who made it stick."
"Ah." A smirk appeared on his face. "So we might have a conflict of interest there."
“Do we really?" She folded her arms and stared challengingly up at him.
It was open season on pranks among the Round Table. Arthur, Leon and Lancelot had not wanted to be involved, and had gone on a diplomatic tour of the five kingdoms for a few weeks to escape the nonsense resulting from it.
Things had begun with a bang. For the last several weeks, Gwaine had woken up every morning with his hair a garish pink. He had naturally immediately suspected his best friend. The idiot had denied it of course, but he could also not keep a straight face. Merlin had been very sympathetic, and helped restore Gwaine’s hair to its rightful glory every day.
But it kept happening. Gwaine tried lying awake to ambush the former blacksmith, a pit that opened up in the floor when he opened the door, even sleeping in a different room. Nothing had worked, and it had only been a few days ago that Gwaine had discovered the truth.
It had been Merlin doing it the whole time, and Arthur’s brother-in-law had simply been providing a scapegoat. Since then Gwaine had sworn revenge on the pair of them.
Gwen had been staying out of it, looking on with amusement as she waited for the perfect time to strike. But this was it. And she had herself a ready-made ally.
Gwaine glowered. “Right. But how about we focus on the primary target first? You know killing him wouldn’t give him much time for regret and repentance.”
Gwen sighed. Why did Gwaine have to be reasonable? "No."
“So we're getting back at him?"
"Naturally. Oh, and can I borrow some of Lancelot’s clothes? I’m not staying in this a moment longer."
Gwaine beamed and opened the door wider. "Help yourself milady."
A few minutes later she stepped out from behind the screen wearing a loose blue tunic tucked into a long skirt. The neckline of the shirt was rather plunging but then again so were those on a lot of her dresses. She wasn’t Leon.
"How do I look?"
Gwaine grinned his big happy grin. "Stunning as ever. You know, I’m pretty sure Arthur has had this exact dream."
Gwen snorted and elbowed him. “You wouldn’t be included? Don’t be so hard on yourself in this hypothetical dream my husband’s having.”
His grin became feral. “Believe me your majesty, when Arthur dreams of me Elyan or Merlin, he’s having a nightmare.”
Gwen laughed and looped her arm through his, and together they made their way to the council chambers.
“Well well well.”
Percival’s boyfriend was standing by the round table, between Percival and Merlin, grinning obnoxiously at her as she and Gwaine came to stand in front of them. Why had she ever suggested her father’s only son return to Camelot with them? Why had she ever let him within a hundred miles of Merlin?
Gwaine refused to acknowledge his boyfriend except to glower at them. Gwen wondered what happened when they shared a bed. Because they were very much still sharing a bed.
“I like the outfit your majesty. It is a bit blue though… don’t you think it could do with something… green?” The most annoying person in Camelot grinned the grin of someone who at age six had pushed eight year old her into an algae encrusted pond and had never let her forget it.
Merlin let out a choked laugh. Percival was staring determinedly at the ground, but he was grinning. They were absurd.
Gwen tossed her head and ignored him, heading to her seat with Gwaine. The sooner they got this meeting over with, the sooner they could begin planning their revenge.
As they took their seats, Gwaine held out his hand. “To war?” he asked grimly, as their enemies' laughter echoed behind them.
Gwen smiled ferally, and took it, officially sealing the alliance.
“To war.”
A few weeks later, the delegation returned to find that it was snowing, a herd of cows was running around the castle, all the furniture was stuck to the ceiling instead of the floor, and Elyan Merlin and Percival were all bright purple from head to foot.