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camelot_drabble2012-10-09 08:22 pm
springinstep.livejournal.com) wrote in camelot_drabble2012-10-09 08:22 pm
Entry tags:
Mark Of The Pack
Author: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
springinstep
Title: Mark Of The Pack
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Gwaine/Lancelot
Summary: There's a stab wound on Lancelot's arm and only he and Gwaine will know why it's really there.
Warnings: self harm
Word Count: 999
Prompt: #27: Tattoos
Author's Notes: Very much influenced by this scene of One Piece [trigger warning: self harm].
Mark Of The Pack
There was a mark branded just below Gwaine’s left shoulder blade; old and fading and barely noticeable underneath a large pale scar which was the result of having an ale jug smashed over his back during a brawl. With the scar covering and distorting most of it, nobody recognised the mark for what it was.
Except Lancelot, because he carried it as well. His was high on his left arm, curving round towards his back. But Lancelot didn’t have a scar to cover his mark and he loathed the thought that people might find out about it. Lancelot had been the only one to recognise the mark on Gwaine and so Gwaine was the only one Lancelot trusted to know that he carried the same.
The mark itself resembled open teeth, like a wolf baring its fangs as it moved in for the kill. It was the mark of a mercenary army called The Pack, with a long and brutal history of fighting battles for whichever side paid the highest and aiding in the corruption of countless courts by taking on jobs which involved abduction, blackmail and murder.
Gwaine wasn’t proud of the time he served with them, so if anybody asked about the mark he told them it was a tattoo he’d had done whilst drunk long ago. He knew Lancelot felt a deep shame as well, but he never let anybody see his mark so never had to make excuses.
It was easy to be recruited into The Pack. A starving and homeless sword for hire is an easy man to manipulate. Those who survived their first job were branded with the mark wherever it happened to be forced upon them. Gwaine can remember men with the mark on their arms, chests, necks, even one with it across his eyes. He doesn’t recall ever seeing Lancelot amongst them and he doesn’t try to either. It’s a time in his life he does all he can to forget. Lancelot used to frown upon Gwaine’s drinking habits, but since recognising the mark he became more lenient.
Once a man was branded, it was considered final. The Pack was easy to become involved in, but leaving alive almost impossible and they were also well known for their hunting, torment and slow murder of those who tried to get away. Gwaine used to think he was the only one who managed to escape before Lancelot recognised the broken tattoo.
It was one of the reasons why Gwaine stayed as Arthur’s knight; Camelot was the first place he’d felt able to sleep in relative safety.
It was late into a winter’s evening when Gwaine returned to Camelot with a small team of knights he had taken on a scouting patrol. With the snow upon the ground and darkness quick to settle in, they were much later in their return than expected. Though Arthur had reacted mostly with exasperation, he was also relieved that his men were safe.
With his breath clouding in the air, it was Lancelot’s room which Gwaine headed for, with a mind to laugh at his surprise and share his body warmth until morning. So he gave no announcement of his arrival and just pushed open the door once he reached it.
To see Lancelot sat in the dark, hunched over on a chair. His chest bare and blood smeared down his side. In his right hand he held the end of a length of bandage, his teeth clenched around the other as he pulled it tight around the wound on his left arm.
“What happened?” Gwaine kicked the door closed and went to Lancelot’s side.
Lancelot didn’t seem to notice him there, so Gwaine grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him lightly. Then Lancelot snapped out of whatever shock he was in, the bandage end dropped from his teeth and his eyes became wide as he saw Gwaine knelt before him.
“Gwaine? Why are you here?”
“Tell me what you’ve done?” Gwaine insisted, his voice sharper than he meant for it to be and Lancelot winced.
“I was… I started thinking about it. Too much. I couldn’t stop.”
As Lancelot spoke, Gwaine saw the empty wine skin on the floor. Next to it was a dagger, the blade still coated with Lancelot’s blood.
“You’re not to drink without me,” he said with a quiver to his voice. “Why didn’t you go to Gaius and ask him if he could remove the mark?”
But if it were that simple, Lancelot would have done so long ago.
“I can’t let anybody know I have it,” Lancelot said, his voice small and haunted. “I didn’t want it! I didn’t want to be part of them.”
“But you had to live,” Gwaine reasoned for him. It was his reason as well and the reason for every man who found themselves involved in The Pack. He stood and pulled Lancelot to his feet as well.
“Come on,” Gwaine said, taking off his cloak and placing it over Lancelot’s shoulders, taking care how he handled it around the hastily bandaged wound. “I’m taking you to Gaius. But we don’t have to tell him why,” he swiftly continued when Lancelot began to look reluctant. “We’ll tell him that Arthur said something which pissed me off, and you suggested sparring to work off the energy. But you’ve been drinking, so I accidentally slashed you on your arm there. That’s all.”
As he talked, he began to pull Lancelot out of his room and towards Gaius’ quarters, wrapping one arm around Lancelot’s shoulder to press his hand against the wound in an attempt to stem the blood flow. Lancelot didn’t resist, though he did look at Gwaine with some confusion.
“Why would you tell him that?”
“Because me doing something stupid is something they’ll believe.”
Lancelot frowned lightly, but said nothing. He started to shiver, so Gwaine pulled him as close as he was able, and Lancelot leaned into him as he was silently lead away.
springinstepTitle: Mark Of The Pack
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Gwaine/Lancelot
Summary: There's a stab wound on Lancelot's arm and only he and Gwaine will know why it's really there.
Warnings: self harm
Word Count: 999
Prompt: #27: Tattoos
Author's Notes: Very much influenced by this scene of One Piece [trigger warning: self harm].
Mark Of The Pack
There was a mark branded just below Gwaine’s left shoulder blade; old and fading and barely noticeable underneath a large pale scar which was the result of having an ale jug smashed over his back during a brawl. With the scar covering and distorting most of it, nobody recognised the mark for what it was.
Except Lancelot, because he carried it as well. His was high on his left arm, curving round towards his back. But Lancelot didn’t have a scar to cover his mark and he loathed the thought that people might find out about it. Lancelot had been the only one to recognise the mark on Gwaine and so Gwaine was the only one Lancelot trusted to know that he carried the same.
The mark itself resembled open teeth, like a wolf baring its fangs as it moved in for the kill. It was the mark of a mercenary army called The Pack, with a long and brutal history of fighting battles for whichever side paid the highest and aiding in the corruption of countless courts by taking on jobs which involved abduction, blackmail and murder.
Gwaine wasn’t proud of the time he served with them, so if anybody asked about the mark he told them it was a tattoo he’d had done whilst drunk long ago. He knew Lancelot felt a deep shame as well, but he never let anybody see his mark so never had to make excuses.
It was easy to be recruited into The Pack. A starving and homeless sword for hire is an easy man to manipulate. Those who survived their first job were branded with the mark wherever it happened to be forced upon them. Gwaine can remember men with the mark on their arms, chests, necks, even one with it across his eyes. He doesn’t recall ever seeing Lancelot amongst them and he doesn’t try to either. It’s a time in his life he does all he can to forget. Lancelot used to frown upon Gwaine’s drinking habits, but since recognising the mark he became more lenient.
Once a man was branded, it was considered final. The Pack was easy to become involved in, but leaving alive almost impossible and they were also well known for their hunting, torment and slow murder of those who tried to get away. Gwaine used to think he was the only one who managed to escape before Lancelot recognised the broken tattoo.
It was one of the reasons why Gwaine stayed as Arthur’s knight; Camelot was the first place he’d felt able to sleep in relative safety.
It was late into a winter’s evening when Gwaine returned to Camelot with a small team of knights he had taken on a scouting patrol. With the snow upon the ground and darkness quick to settle in, they were much later in their return than expected. Though Arthur had reacted mostly with exasperation, he was also relieved that his men were safe.
With his breath clouding in the air, it was Lancelot’s room which Gwaine headed for, with a mind to laugh at his surprise and share his body warmth until morning. So he gave no announcement of his arrival and just pushed open the door once he reached it.
To see Lancelot sat in the dark, hunched over on a chair. His chest bare and blood smeared down his side. In his right hand he held the end of a length of bandage, his teeth clenched around the other as he pulled it tight around the wound on his left arm.
“What happened?” Gwaine kicked the door closed and went to Lancelot’s side.
Lancelot didn’t seem to notice him there, so Gwaine grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him lightly. Then Lancelot snapped out of whatever shock he was in, the bandage end dropped from his teeth and his eyes became wide as he saw Gwaine knelt before him.
“Gwaine? Why are you here?”
“Tell me what you’ve done?” Gwaine insisted, his voice sharper than he meant for it to be and Lancelot winced.
“I was… I started thinking about it. Too much. I couldn’t stop.”
As Lancelot spoke, Gwaine saw the empty wine skin on the floor. Next to it was a dagger, the blade still coated with Lancelot’s blood.
“You’re not to drink without me,” he said with a quiver to his voice. “Why didn’t you go to Gaius and ask him if he could remove the mark?”
But if it were that simple, Lancelot would have done so long ago.
“I can’t let anybody know I have it,” Lancelot said, his voice small and haunted. “I didn’t want it! I didn’t want to be part of them.”
“But you had to live,” Gwaine reasoned for him. It was his reason as well and the reason for every man who found themselves involved in The Pack. He stood and pulled Lancelot to his feet as well.
“Come on,” Gwaine said, taking off his cloak and placing it over Lancelot’s shoulders, taking care how he handled it around the hastily bandaged wound. “I’m taking you to Gaius. But we don’t have to tell him why,” he swiftly continued when Lancelot began to look reluctant. “We’ll tell him that Arthur said something which pissed me off, and you suggested sparring to work off the energy. But you’ve been drinking, so I accidentally slashed you on your arm there. That’s all.”
As he talked, he began to pull Lancelot out of his room and towards Gaius’ quarters, wrapping one arm around Lancelot’s shoulder to press his hand against the wound in an attempt to stem the blood flow. Lancelot didn’t resist, though he did look at Gwaine with some confusion.
“Why would you tell him that?”
“Because me doing something stupid is something they’ll believe.”
Lancelot frowned lightly, but said nothing. He started to shiver, so Gwaine pulled him as close as he was able, and Lancelot leaned into him as he was silently lead away.
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"Because me doing something stupid is something they'll believe."
That says so much about Gwaine's understanding of himself and how the rest of the world sees him - and what he's willing to do with that in order to help his friends.
Very nicely done.
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Great job on this!
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