Notes:
And so it begins. Barely any screen time together but they just seem so perfect for each other. It's the opposite personalities and/or mutual prettiness. I don't even know.

You'll have to pardon my butchering of fruit…geography… since peaches actually come from the Asian (and later Middle-eastern) world, but if Albion has such magical features as dragons and warlocks, then I'm hoping we can perhaps excuse a peach tree growing in the wrong region.

Over Breakfast

With his back to the flagstone wall, Lancelot sat alone in the large estate room of their abandoned castle hide-out. Tomorrow they would assault Camelot to rescue Uther and depose Morgana, but tonight Lancelot just wanted a few moments of peace to gather his thoughts.

It follows, then, that this was not to be.

"So," came a voice in Lancelot's right ear, "who are you then?"

With a start, Lancelot glanced over to see the shaggy haired man and knewly minted knight from earlier sliding into place beside him. He was holding a knife in one hand and a peach in the other, and was looking at Lancelot with an expression that was somewhere between challenge and charm.

"I'm sorry?" Lancelot responded, mildly confused.

The knight ran a hand through his hair. "You seem pretty close with Merlin, and our future king Arthur over there. But I've never seen you in my life. So I was wondering, who are you?"

Lancelot considered this. "I'm Lancelot. I've been in exile."

"Me too," the knight said with a mile-wide grin, as if this were something to be proud of. "Yet I've still managed to hang about, Lancelot."

Lancelot couldn't entirely keep the edge out his words as he responded with "I merely respect the king's orders."

The knight laughed. "A true and noble knight you are then. Much more deserving than someone such as myself." He tried to move the peach and the knife into one hand and on failing to do so instead popped the knife between his teeth. He stuck out his hand, and despite the knife clenched between his jaws managed to get out, "I'm Gwaine."

Lancelot shook the proffered hand. "Gwaine," he repeated. "Well, any friend of Merlin's is a friend of mine."

Gwaine dropped the knife into his lap, causing Lancelot to wince slightly as the blade narrowly missed stabbing Gwaine in the thigh. Gwaine didn't seem to notice. "That's what I like to hear." He looked over the room, at the others who were eating or quietly talking. "Interesting bunch we have here. Not a chance in hell, but it'll be something to see at least."

Lancelot looked at him steadily. "You don't think we stand a chance? I thought you said you'd been hanging around. Surely you've seen what Merlin and Arthur can accomplish."

Gwaine shrugged. "They have a knack for the heroics, as do I and I can only assume most of us here. But on the other hand, it's a vast immortal army and two power-mad witches holed up in a castle famed for its impenetrability. The odds might be slightly skewed this time."

He stood up. "You seem like a good sort, and that thing with the boulders earlier was genius. I'll enjoy fighting alongside you tomorrow, Lancelot. Try not to die."

"I'll see what I can do," Lancelot returned, and couldn't help but smile up at the knight. Gwaine's matter-of-fact manner put Lancelot in unfamiliar territory, which should have been infuriating, and yet Lancelot still found himself enjoying Gwaine's company. It was…refreshing, he supposed.

Gwaine chuckled. "Much obliged," he said, and flicked his wrist. The peach he had been holding spun up into the air, and then began to fall. Lancelot caught it deftly in one hand, and looked questioningly up at Gwaine. Gwaine shrugged. "Means immortality in some cultures. Longevity. I figure the fact that there's a tree full of them outside can only be a good thing."

"Ah. So am I supposed to eat it, or carry it around?" Lancelot asked, not entirely sure how seriously to take such a thing. Gwaine looked at him.

"Haven't the foggiest." He winked. "See you tomorrow." He strode off, leaving Lancelot to quietly gaze at his piece of lucky fruit.

Lancelot awoke to the first light of dawn as it seeped through the uncovered windows. All was quiet, and he felt a sense of calm and peace that was immediately shattered by the memory of what was to happen today. He felt his stomach tighten, but he was in no mind to sit and ruminate on the possible outcomes of their attack. There was a time and a place for that kind of fear, and succumbing to it now would help no one.

He slowly rose to a sitting position and gazed about him, noting the still sleeping bodies of the rest of the group. Well, almost all the rest. One bedroll lay empty.

"Morning sunshine," came a low voice from across the room. Lancelot looked over his shoulder and saw Gwaine sitting on a windowsill, his feet propped against the stone and his hands behind his head. He looked the picture of relaxation. "Care for some breakfast? I believe we have stale bread and…nope, just stale bread."

"I could have sworn there was some rabbit left from last night," muttered Lancelot, struggling to a standing position. Gwaine grinned.

"Oh, there was."

Lancelot wanted to feel indignant, but he found himself unwittingly responding to Gwaine's cheerful attitude. So instead, he shrugged, and glanced out the window. "Didn't you say there was a peach tree around here? I wouldn't mind some more fruit."

Gwaine sprang to his feet. "I'll show you then." Without so much as another glance at Lancelot, he set off for the western corridor. Lancelot stopped to grab a knife in case of emergency, and hurried after him.

The peach tree was to be found in the entrance courtyard, at the base of the stairs to the battlements. Gwaine gestured grandly at the knotted, spindly tree. "And here we are. Breakfast." He leant back against the wall to watch as Lancelot approached the tree for assessment.

"There's a few at ground level but they aren't as ripe as the ones near the top."

"Isn't that the way life always goes," Gwaine said with a wry smile. Lancelot turned to shoot him a pointed look.

"That is a truly shocking metaphor, Gwaine," he responded, and grinning he hoisted himself up into the branches. Gwaine watched as Lancelot disappeared into the green foliage; moments passed, and then peaches began to fall from within the branches of the tree.

"Want to collect my winnings?" Lancelot called. Gwaine shook his head, even though he knew Lancelot probably couldn't see.

"I'd rather wait until the fruit stops falling, if it's all the same to you. I don't fancy being caught in a storm of peaches."

Gwaine watched as Lancelot reappeared in a less dense patch on one of the outer branches. "Fair enough." He paused to survey the tree, looking for the next spot to target. "Ah," he murmured, and moved onto a branch to his left. It was a significantly thinner branch, and Gwaine could see what was coming before the first creaks and groans of the wood even began.

"Lance-" he got out, before there was a resounding crack and Lancelot was no longer where he had been.

"Oh lord," Gwaine muttered, staring at the inert figure of Lancelot that was now lying at the foot of the tree. "I hope you're ok, Lancelot. It would be truly dreadful for me to have to report that you'd been taken out by a fruit tree before the battle had even begun." Gwaine waited for a reply, but nothing was forthcoming. He frowned, and walked over to where Lancelot lay sprawled on the grass. "Lancelot?" Gwaine poked him with his shoe.

"Taken out by a fruit tree?" Lancelot opened his eyes with a grin. "You think that lowly of me?"

Gwaine laughed, and the feeling of dread coiled tightly in his stomach that he hadn't even noticed until that moment ebbed away. He glanced at the long branch that Lancelot had brought down with him. It had about eight peaches attached to it. "Well, you certainly took peach gathering to a whole new level of efficiency," he murmured, and stuck out his hand for Lancelot to take. Lancelot accepted, and let himself be hauled to his feet.

"I suppose that's breakfast taken care of," Lancelot mused, and Gwaine nodded.

"We can bring some back upstairs for the others. But first," he said, stooping to pick up the branch, "I suggest we help ourselves."

The castle was perched on a dramatically craggy outcrop overlooking a deeply wooded valley, making finding a picturesque spot to enjoy breakfast far from difficult. Ensuring that they couldn't be seen from further down the hill by anyone who might pass within close distance of the castle, Gwaine and Lancelot chose a spot just outside the gates on a jutting rock.

"So," Gwaine said between mouthfuls of peach, "how's this for a last meal then?"

"You're rather relentless in your pessimism about today, aren't you?" replied Lancelot, glancing at Gwaine curiously. Gwaine flicked a strand of hair from his eyes.

"Realism, not pessimism. You really think this is all going to go down without a hitch?"

Lancelot nodded. "I trust Arthur. I trust Merlin even more. Together…" he lapsed into a brief thoughtful silence as he took a mouthful of peach, before continuing. "I'm not saying I'm entirely without trepidation. I would just prefer to concentrate on what I know, and what I know is that those two pull off amazing things when they are together. With our help…" he trailed off with a shrug.

Gwaine stared at him for a moment with surprising intensity, and Lancelot suspected he was beginning to blush. He looked down at the peach he was holding.

"You're a fascinating person, Lancelot," Gwaine said. "For your sake more than anyone else's, I truly hope you are right."

Lancelot raised his head again to see Gwaine still gazing at him intently, and suddenly he was painfully aware of how close they were. He found his gaze drift from Gwaine's eyes to his lips, and that was it. He was gone.

Any distance between them was closed, and as their lips met, feelings Lancelot had never experienced washed over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he found himself inexplicably thinking, of course, as if every moment since they'd met had been leading up to this. But as far as concentration went, all he could think of was the heat and intensity of Gwaine pushing back at him and how much Gwaine tasted like peaches. He felt his own hand slide down Gwaine's neck and under his collar line as if possessed, and it took every fibre of his being not to let out a moan. With a heroic effort, he wrenched himself away.

"Sorry," he muttered, his face uncharacteristically flushed. So many thoughts and emotions rushed through him he could barely think. "I just-"

"No, that was… that was…" Gwaine seemed somewhat at a loss for words, although Lancelot couldn't discern from his expression for which reason that might be.

"Last day on earth and all," Lancelot said, closing his eyes and pressing one hand to his forehead.

"Yeah, I…no, hang on." Lancelot felt Gwaine shift beside him. "You don't believe that, Lancelot. Are just making up excuses to kiss me?"

Lancelot looked up to see Gwaine grinning at him. He felt like everything inside him was all twisted up and Gwaine's apparent lack of concern over these sorts of things was doing odd things to him, not least of all causing intense confusion. "Sorry?"

"You like me. I don't blame you." Gwaine shrugged. "'We're about to die' is a terribly clichéd excuse to go with though. I would have chosen something like, 'I thought you were choking on that peach and needed mouth to mouth'. Much less plausible, but certainly more interesting."

Lancelot felt like his mind had gone blank. He could not think of a single thing to say, other than to stare at Gwaine. He hoped he had at least closed his mouth and was not gaping like a fish, but in all honesty he could not work up the mental coherency or muscle coordination to check.

Gwaine's amused expression softened into something Lancelot could not quite place. "If you don't say something, I'm going to have to assume I have put you out of action. 'Defeated by a kiss' is much, much worse than 'fallen out of a peach tree' on the list of possible reasons why Lancelot will not be joining us in the fight today, although it does paint my powers of attraction in a rather flattering light."

Lancelot let out a slow sigh. "Sorry," he managed to say. "For all of this."

"Are you?" Gwaine asked, and Lancelot was thrown off guard by the earnest tone in his voice. Despite the whirlwind in his mind, Lancelot was surprised to find that when he really thought about it the answer seemed as plain as day.

"No," he heard himself saying. He smiled, and when he looked at Gwaine he found that Gwaine was smiling too.

"Good," Gwaine replied. He stood up, and once more offered Lancelot a hand. "Then you won't mind if I do this?" He leant in, and gently pressed his lips to Lancelot's. Lancelot felt his eyes close, felt Gwaine's hand firm on his arm, felt his own heart speeding up. This time, his mind was not a deafening tumult of thoughts, and the confusion and fear he had felt before drained away, replaced by elation.

"Not at all," he said at last when Gwaine had drawn himself away. Gwaine grinned.

"Excellent. Now I hate to be a buzz kill, but I can hear the sounds of the others waking up. I think perhaps this might have to be continued another time. After the fight."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. "I thought you said there wouldn't be an 'after the fight'?"

Gwaine shrugged. "Well, I can't say I was wrong with any certainty yet, but I'm at least going to try and make sure that I'll be able to by the end of the day." He picked up the peach tree branch. "Besides, we have magic peaches on our side."

"Of course," Lancelot said with a laugh. They took one last look at the spread of the valley below, and turned towards the castle.