A/N: So…I got so many more requests for hurt!Gwaine than I expected that, well, poor guy, I did it to him again! But, well, he can take it. We hope. I want to especially thank EffervescentAardvark for really encouraging me, giving me most of the plot, and looking this over before I sent it out to y'all. I also want to thank all those who reviewed my last Gwaine H/C and requested more whumpage: Aoitori, lime juize, Aranna Undomiel, moonstone wordsmith and any others who favorited or even stopped by to read.
This is as yet unfinished. Reviews with requests are welcomed. I'll update as fast as I can, but getting on my ass to do so promptly won't be frowned upon. Enjoy!
WARNINGS: Violence and language. Par for the course for me! ;)
First problem: hubris.
Gwaine knew he had problems. He wasn't perfect. Admittance was the first step, wasn't it? He just rarely went any further than that.
"Merlin, what is this?" Gwaine said.
"That." Gwaine pointed at what Merlin was carrying. King Arthur and the rest of the knights were saddled up to go hunting. Why they thought bringing Merlin along was good for anything more than a few laughs was beyond Gwaine. He was likely to get himself killed.
"A…polearm?" Merlin said cautiously, as if he was unsure of the name.
"That's the most shite polearm I think I've ever seen in my life. You're not going to hurt anything with that but yourself."
"But…I…sharpened it specially…?" Merlin tried, attempting, adorably, to understand what Gwaine was on about.
"There's no crossguard on it, Merlin." Gwaine said, snatching up the tip and gesturing. You need a guard on it. Have you ever even hunted wild boar before?"
Merlin was now looking at him like he was simple. "No!" he squeaked.
"Well, you'll be in for a treat if you go in with this one. I've seen one actually crawl up a man's spear, skewering itself just for the chance to hook its tusks in him." Gwaine described the scene with relish, and Merlin gulped.
"Oh," Merlin said.
"You better take mine," Gwaine said, exchanging the weapons.
"Wait, what? But then…won't you—?"
"Be in danger? Me? Hardly! I've hunted more boar than you've hunted…dunno, fish! The guard's more for insurance, and with your luck…" Gwaine chuckled and clapped Merlin too hard on the back. "Well, let's just say I'm more worried about you!"
Elyan, Percival, and Leon rode up with a chorus of laughter: "Don't listen to him, Merlin!" Leon warned, grinning widely.
"Gwaine just didn't want to be the only one stuck with one of the old-fashioned boar spears," Elyan piped up.
Merlin looked up at the trio of knights: sure enough, they were all bearing long, thin, light polearms that looked suspiciously like the one he'd just given up to Gwaine.
But if Gwaine was lying, he dug his heels in for the long haul: "I don't know what kind of boar hunting you do here, but this isn't going to…" he trailed off, shaking the polearm in his hand. It was too light, too flimsy, too—
"All right, all right," Arthur rode up easily on his white palfrey, with Lancelot close behind. "Gwaine, boar-hunting is a bit of different sport in Albion than elsewhere you may have been. We stay on horseback the entire time."
"What?" Gwaine rolled his eyes and blew his hair out of his face with a huff. "Well, hell, I'm getting my warhorse, then!" He laughed, determined to enjoy this if it killed him. "Back in a jiff!"
A/N: Okay, no one's hurt yet...guilty as charged. But I hope we can all see where this is going...