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In the Kingdom of Camelot, before King Uther and Queen Ygraine bore Arthur, magic still held sway. Druids were revered, signs and portents a way of life. Because of this, the future of two newborns were decided. Four noble families were invited to Camelot to celebrate Imbolc, one to represent each of the four great holidays, four great seasons. Upon arrival, it was learned that two of the wives were pregnant, bellies round and full with life. Uther and Ygraine had been ecstatic, sparing no expense to spoil the two women, showering them with parental affection that they did not yet have an outlet for.
On the first day of Imbolc, they both went into labor .... welcoming Gwaine and Lancelot into the world. Uther had declared the celebration to increase. So much so, that food and treats were distributed through out the city, all citizens of Camelot bid to drink, eat, and be merry. The names Gwaine and Lancelot were cheered with seemingly endless cups of ale and fruit pastries. Wild meats ... and more ale.
Because of Imbolc ... because of portents and signs, it was also decided that the two would be betrothed upon that day. Both sets of parents had fawned, cooed and simpered over both babies, the atmosphere of family easily contagious as the festivities intensified. The babes had found themselves held and rocked by every noble, danced about the main hall by Uther himself. They slept in Ygraine's arms and were so thoroughly celebrated, one would think them the heirs to the throne.
But eventually, Imbolc ended and the families went their separate ways. Life moved on. In the years after, Queen Ygraine died in child birth, Uther became a bastard that persecuted every thing magical, Gwaine's Father died in service to the King, and Lancelot's Mother passed. The two boys found themselves mostly raised by servants. Living similar lives in different parts of the Kingdom, semi-aware of each other's existence.
And thus life passed ... both boys took to their lessons, learned the sword, the horse, the ways of the Knights of Camelot. The one thing they forgot to do? Learn each other. Which is why, on their 16th birthday, Lancelot's stepmother appeared long enough to inform him that with two years until his marriage, it would be prudent to write his betrothed. She then disappeared again, leaving him alone to face his panic.
Lancelot is not the average young man. He is a Noble, but sheltered in such a way that he is shy and uncertain. He is not worldly or arrogant, does not drink or spend his days flirting and gambling. He prefers books to people, and has a hard enough time talking to the servants, let alone trying to talk to someone he has not met since the day they were born! But, he is a proper lad, and his stepmother had all but demanded it, so .. he spent nearly a week composing a letter to the mysterious Gwaine. He's sure it's an awkward mess, likely to leave the worst first impression, but there is little help for it.
Lord Gwaine,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. It was suggested that we should get to know each other, given the fact that we are to be wed in two years. At this moment, we know very little of each other, or so I assume. I have heard stories of our birth, of the Imbolc celebration and the way we were spoiled and pampered. But beyond that, I have heard nothing of you. I do not know if you study to be a Knight, or if you have other pursuits. I do not know what your dreams or aspirations are, what your favorite thing is.
If we are to spend a lifetime together, we should find a common ground to build happiness upon.
- Lancelot du Lac
Sir Lancelot,
I have no idea how I should do this, how I should respond. Other than to be truthful. And I am told by my friends that I am a blunt man with no manners as far as filtering goes. I apologize if any of this comes across in a way it shouldn't. But, as you said, we are to wed. We should know the worst of each other, to prepare for a lifetime together.
I am told that I am a rambunctious youth, with little dreams or aspirations. I have a fondness for fighting, and though I am training to be a Knight ... I find no pleasure in it. My Father died as a Knight, gave his life away at the order of the King and I do not think I will ever forgive the bastard for that. My Father or the King. But, we are born into our stations and my Mother would see me follow in my Father's footsteps. I have little demands for my future, because I know that it truly is not in my control. But .. if you wish to know me .. then please know this. I hope, that as my husband, you will give me the choice to follow my own desire. If, by the time we are wed, I do not wish to continue this course, please, Lancelot, allow me to change it.
- Gwaine
Gwaine,
I can not boast any such qualities, I am afraid. You are likely to find me utterly boring in comparison, actually. If we are to discuss our faults, then I will be truthful. I am not an out going person. I am awkward, prefer books to people. When my Mother passed, my Father was quick to remarry and my Stepmother is a nice enough person. She does not, however, like the reminder that she is not his first wife. For that reason, I am neglected and do not interact with them very often. Because of this, I have usually found myself alone. Thus, I became enamored of books, riding, and other such solitary activities that require no friends or family. But, I will try to learn, I promise. I will find ways to be .. sociable .. so that you do not feel abandoned or alone.
As for the future ... we are to be husbands, not each others owners or wardens. If you find yourself wishing to change your path, I would not stand in your way. You would have my full support, in fact. I can not promise what our future will be. I do not know if we will ever grow to love each other, but I can tell you this. I truly want your happiness, Gwaine. We were given no choice in this, were literally betrothed on the day we were born. We are bound by the order of our King and the expectations of our families. I will not be a cause of unhappiness in this union. I will give you all that I can.
- Your Betrothed, Lancelot
Sweet Lancelot,
I can not express how shocked I was at your last letter. I am not one to trust easily. I barely trust my friends and they have been with me since I was a little lad. The thought of trusting someone leaves a deep, unsettling ache in the pit of my stomach. But your words, your promises, they leave my heart fluttering. I will confess that I have held little hope for this betrothal since I was a child. I have looked upon the impending day of our vows as a .. death sentence, really. I am ashamed to admit this, but it's the truth. However, you have given me the one thing I had not thought to achieve; hope.
If you are so willing to offer me such freedom in our union, to stand behind me in my desires, then I can offer no less, my dear. I am no longer dreading the day of our wedding, the day we will meet and exchange our holy vows. I truly believe that you will be the greatest husband I could ever hope for, Lance. Soon, we will find our chance at happiness. We will face our future together.
This letter should reach you a few days before my arrival. I hope you are as excited as I am to come face to face.
Your Betrothed,
Gwaine
Fin