airbaths | BRAVEST AND MOST NOBLE • merlot post

"Ready," Merlin calls back once the fire is safely out. He ambles back over to grab his coat, slips it on and begins to do it up a little before grabbing his keys. It isn't that cold really, it's quite nice, but it's habit. He'll be hot in approximately 10 minutes and start undoing it again. "Come on then," he encourages, and shuffles them both out the house -- locking up behind them and grabbing out for Lancelot's hand again. He gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as they head up the road. "They might have a maypole. The traditions are all a bit... muddled, some branches use some bits and some ignore them and use others -- like branches of Christianity I suppose. Anyway, we all agree that there should be fires and stuff so that bit stays. Sex in the woods is optional."

He winks playfully, nudges Lancelot as they walk.

Partially out of nerves and partially because one of them has to be the one to remember, Lancelot goes through the mental checklist of necessities. Keys, wallet, Merlin. Right. Okay. Yeah, he can do this.

Without hesitation, Lancelot takes Merlin's hand. He listens carefully about the different branches and everything. But then there's, uh, a mention of sex in the woods.

"Does that really happen?"

Maybe he can't do this. He can't tell if Merlin's joking or not.

"Well, it's not banned -- you know, other than under indecent exposure laws." Merlin waggles his eyebrows, grins ruefully. "It was sort of a tradition, once upon a time. Beltaine is sort of -- uh, all about that kind of thing. A lot of people get handfasted on Beltaine. There's a lot of symbolic imagery around it. Union of the God and Goddess to bring fertility and life to the earth, union of earthy and sky, purity and life and spring turning into summer. So, you know, I wouldn't put it past at least one couple to try and sneak off to get back to nature. Not compulsory though, like I said. I just like watching people try to dance and enjoying the fire."

Lancelot tries to hide the shock/horror/general lack of ability to process that information. He's sure it doesn't work. At least Merlin's very upfront about what's to be expected. He can't imagine going off with several couples in the woods. What if someone saw them? More importantly, what if someone saw Merlin?

He's not a jealous man, but, well. He might be protective from time to time. The thought makes him give a squeeze to Merlin's hand in his. How about a wonderful topic change from thoughts like that.

"Is this where the Christians stole Easter or was that something else?"

"Partly. Most of it is Ostara, spring equinox. That's where the rabbits and eggs and stuff come from. Maypoles come from Beltaine though. It represents the -- uh... the... union of the god and goddess." Merlin presses his lips into a thin line, clamping down on amusement, then smirks. "I don't think the Christians that engage in maypole dancing quite realise the significance of the pole itself. Anyway." He grins and swings their joined hands a little, turns to intercept Lancelot and forces him to slow down. "I promise not to dance with anyone else, around euphemistic poles or otherwise."

Ostara... Lancelot catalogs that in the back of his mind for future research. He's gotten in the habit of Googling some of the things his husband says. He's good at getting a basic explanation out, really, but Lancelot feels silly constantly asking him very obvious questions.

The rest of the story for Maypoles... Lancelot couldn't hold back the grin if he tried. The irony. And it makes a lot more sense than doing it "just because." He is this close to laughing at the ridiculousness of it. "No, we definitely don't."

Now faced with a wonderful sight of his better half, Lancelot grins in a different way entirely. Maybe even teasing him. "Promise? I don't want to ruin the spirit of the holiday with pulling you away from anyone."

"Oh, you won't ruin anything. You've already got first dibs anyway." Merlin leans in, smile turning a little more playful. "And I've got first dibs on you, so watch yourself. If I see you weaving ribbons with a pretty girl there'll be trouble."

He winks, expression flicking up into an outright grin again before he takes a step back and starts tugging Lance along beside him again.

Lancelot just might be comfortable enough to play along. Although, some of the next question is entirely sincere.
"Do you think I'd want to weave ribbons with anyone else?"

Now that they're back together, he gives Merlin's hand a squeeze. "Guess it was about time you found out my terrible secret."

He's quite proud of himself. He's managed to forget about sex in the woods or the danger of Merlin being danced with by someone else. Who knows. He might even calm down enough to let it happen.

"They're very nice ribbons." He squeezes Lancelot's hand in turn, lifts it to press a soft kiss to to it. "But maybe not. I've never seen you wear one, for all I know ribbons might not be your style."

That, and he knows Lancelot is loyal as they come. The kindest, most loyal man he's ever met.

"I suppose that depends on the ribbon," he says with a grin of his own for his husband.

They remain lost in their own little world of ribbons and teasing and worry the entire trip. Merlin, as always, is patient and talkative with every question that Lancelot could have. He's also very good at keeping up conversation... with himself. Oddly, it's never a bother. It is just as calming as total quiet. So much so that by the time they arrive, Lancelot had forgotten all of the silly things he'd been worrying about. It's a different thing entirely when they're there. His eyes go wide with curiosity more than shock. And, of course, he keeps his hand tangled with Merlin's.

The fires are big as they always are, and the drum-beats heavy already. Merlin hangs on to Lancelot's hand as he negotiates the crowd, smiling to a few people he recognises but carrying on past them. He's here with Lancelot, and his husband has his full attention.

"Do you see those two fires, closer together?" He draws Lance closer gestures over and smiles as a girl runs between them and giggles raucously. "That's the thing to do if you want to ensure your fertility. Run between the fires. It's meant to cleanse you too, protect you from disease. That sort of thing. Sometimes people jump over the fires for the same reason, and for good luck, and as couples to pledge to each other and all that. Have to be good at jumping, though, and not scared of fire I suppose."

Full attention on the fires now, he can't help but feel a minor bit of panic at the child running between them. His heroic instincts want to keep the little ones as far away from it as possible. But, they seem to know what they're doing.

"Does that mean if I run between them we'll get a baby on our doorstep?"

He's... only partially joking. Maybe. Sort of.

Talk of jumping over them? He really hopes the kids avoid that at least... He's not exactly scared of it. Only what might happen if you failed. "So much for fertility if you miss."

"That's why you don't -- and, no, sorry. Doesn't work like that. No sex changes by fire." Merlin finally brings them to a stop nearer the fire, tugging Lancelot until their hips touch and hooking an arm around him. "Don't worry, the fires they jump over are the smaller ones. Bit easier. We're not quite in the ritualistic death era any more. Be a bit grim of we let people burn horribly every year. Also, not very good advertising."

In turn, and just as easily, Lancelot wraps an arm around Merlin's shoulders. Normally he wouldn't have much of a problem with affection anyway.

"If you could jump over that, I'd wonder just how good your herbs are."

His eye pulls away from the fire to take in the rest of their surroundings. Here he can't help but notice that no one cares at all he's got an arm around his husband. Not even giggles or encouragement. Nothing. As if it's completely normal. He feels himself relax just a little bit more. "Why didn't you wait for our handfasting to be now?"

Merlin drops his eyes at that, fingers curling into the fabric of Lancelot's shirt.

"I thought about it." Just like that his tone is more serious all of a sudden, humour dropped in favour of the question. Merlin frowns a little at the fire, then turns to regard Lancelot. "But... I didn't want to pressure you in public. I didn't want you to feel you had to say yes, and... I wanted you to know I was asking because I wanted to. Not for tradition, not because it's the done thing at this time of year, just... because I wanted to. Because it feels right. I wanted it to be about what we want, not anyone or anything else."

The drop in tone is more of a surprise than anything else they've encountered so far. And that includes a few more people running between fires. Lancelot turns to look at his better half as he explains why. He'd given it a lot of thought...

Well, of course he should have. It had to do with the rest of their lives, a promise to be together. Funny enough how he thought it perfectly reasonable for Merlin to dwell on it so long, but Lancelot himself took not even a second to say yes. He's smiling before he even knows it and gives Merlin a squeeze.

"I would have said yes no matter how you asked."

His smile flicks back at that, and Merlin squeezes Lancelot in turn.

"I know," he admits, "but I wanted to do things right." Looking around he sighs for a second in contentment, enjoying the smell of the fire and open air mixed with Lancelot's closeness. "There might be a parade later. Sometimes they do them, parades based on --"

"You came!" Merlin blinks and turns towards the voice, eyes fixing on a shock of black hair and wide, excited eyes rushing toward them. Mordred grins at him brightly, as if Merlin's presence alone is some sort of miracle. "I was not sure you would, but now you're here."

"Oh, come on, you know I don't miss the chance for a good bonfire. Um, Lance? This is Mordred. Mordred, Lance."

The blink with which Mordred turns to focus on Lancelot implies he hadn't really been aware of his presence until it was pointed out.

Lancelot isn't sure why he wasn't expecting anyone to talk to them. Of course Merlin would know people here. It's like any other social gathering. Eventually you're going to bump into someone you've met before.

He doesn't mind or notice how Mordred only focuses on Merlin. What does throw him off is how very obvious it is Mordred doesn't seem to notice them. Lancelot still gives a sincere grin. "Pleasure to meet you, Mordred."

Mordred looks between them curiously, tilts his head at Merlin as if silently asking something. As if in response Merlin links a hand through Lancelot's and raises them.

"Spring," he says simply, and the frown Mordred's expression had taken on smooths out in surprise for a moment.

He flicks a faint smile, but somehow it doesn't seem entirely natural.

"Congratulations," he offers, and Merlin beams at him as if he doesn't notice anything off about the reaction.

"Thanks. I thought it was time. Do you know if there's going to be a parade this year? Oh," and he turns to include Lance, "sometimes they do a parade. You know, all a bit symbolic and fancy. May Queen and Oak King, romance and passion and more things on fire."

The frown then incredibly false smile... They do not sit well with Lancelot. He's not entirely sure why yet. The congratulations is awfully flat, as well. Merlin - always being Merlin - doesn't pay it any mind. Perhaps Lancelot shouldn't either.

Yet, there's something. Something in those little looks that are telling him to put an arm back around Merlin's waist now that they're finished explaining their marriage.

"Thank you," he tries for his own sincerity. It works! Oh, but Merlin is talking. Thus, Lancelot is listening. "Is fire always a common element to these things?"

"Any excuse for a good fire," Merlin says by way of an answer. He settles against Lance as the arm slides around him, slips a hand into Lance's back pocket to secure them together and offers him an amused smile.

"There is a parade," Mordred answers finally. "Which you would know, if you had attended the meetings." His tone is mild, but disapproving all the same. As if he's disappointed rather than angry, like Merlin has let him down in some way.

"Bit busy," he explains, and wrinkles his nose before looking over at Lance again. "You know, newlywed stuff."

There are meetings for these sor-- Well, of course there would be. At least he managed to catch himself before actually asking. Lancelot is trying so hard not to eye Mordred suspiciously. It's probably just his imagination. He could hardly be blamed for admiring Merlin, really.

"Yet, still have to go on that honeymoon."

Merlin's proposal and ceremony was so short notice they didn't really have time to plan any sort of holiday, even one to stay at home.

"Will you be in the parade, Mordred?"

It's a potential stupid question he hopes can be forgiven.

Mordred blinks around at Lancelot again, eyebrows raising, and lets out an oddly surprised laugh -- tilting his head in a mixture of surprise and amusement.

"No, I will not." He shoots a look at Merlin again, who smirks a little as if sharing a private joke, then lets out a breath awkwardly and forces another smile. "I should go check on things. Perhaps I will... see you later?"

Merlin nods and grins at Mordred, releases Lance long enough to step forward and clasp him by the arm. He hesitates as Mordred leans forward and whispers something to him, expression slipping to a frown that he keeps even as his friend releases him and starts off back into the crowd. It vanishes instantly as he turns back to Lancelot, expression painting quickly into a perfect everything is fine smile as he loops an arm around him again.

"Right! Where were we, food?"

Oh... Well, yes. He knew that was going to be a stupid question. Lancelot has learned a long time ago to pick his battles. He'll keep quiet about Mordred for now.

Or, he would have. The face Merlin had when Mordred whispered to him isn't anything like Lancelot's seen in a while from his better half. He also knows exactly how to read that placating grin of his.

He gives Merlin a wide eyed look, more curious than anything else. Merlin made it very clear they were together and he did leave.

"What was that all about?"

"Umm. Nothing?" Which is perhaps the most transparent lie Merlin has ever told. He seems to realise this after a moment, wrinkles his nose a little and shrugs. "Druid things?" he offers, which is partially an answer at least, even if he's formed it as a question. Am I going to get away with just saying this? He squirms a little, clearly unsure how to deal with this crossover of Lancelot and... everything else. "Bit complicated," he adds awkwardly after a moment. "Might be a bit weird, too."

As if Merlin is a stranger to weird in some way, and this may come as a surprise.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject