#chef and farmer more or less have the most important responsibilities in the village (feeding everyone)

[primeministerofantarctica]

this might be a mix of personalities + (english) voices but 2021 smurfs feel like they have more prominent age differences? whereas 80s smurfs felt more or less the same. not major gaps just enough you can clearly sort them into older - middle - younger categories (like siblings). anyways i haven't thought of everyone but

older: hefty, farmer, smurfette, chef

middle: jokey, vanity, poet, handy

younger: greedy, painter, timid

[thecowardwrites]

Fifty Shades of Gwaine Part One

Part One: The Meeting

Finally transferring over one of my favorite projects I’ve done so far! 

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Summary:  You, a modest yet well known painter, have been commissioned by the legendary King Arthur to paint portraits of the royal court. (That being him, his queen, and his Knights of the Round Table.) With such a large workload, you’ll be working exclusively for the king for months on end. In your time in the palace, you get to know the knights and many of those who live within the city walls. One knight in particular, however, continuously draws your attention: A dark haired rebel with a good heart. Sir Gwaine is the perfect gentleman and you can’t help but get excited every time he looks in your direction.

Warnings: None 

Words: 2.5k 

You were a renowned artist across the five kingdoms: famous to the rich and noble, friend to those in need. Most of what you earned was sent to feed your family who was wedged deep in a lone village on the outskirts of Camelot. It was the least you could do, seeing as you were constantly traveling from place to place depending on where you were needed next.

You began selling landscape paintings in order to make a quick coin, and, eventually, a few more well-off families had asked you to make small portraits for them. From there, your name had been passed around many towns and a few nobles had taken notice of your ability. As time continued, you were more often commissioned to paint portraits for nobility.

You had seen your fair share of stuck up nobles who treated you with a kindness that was not nearly as kind as they tried to seem. Still, you took every job you were offered, and never refused anyone – no matter their social standing or income. Sure, you had been paid fifty gold coins for the portrait of a knight yet merely some cloth for a portrait of a farmer’s daughter; to you they were of equal importance. The poor deserved to remember each other just as much as the rich did.

Never before, though, had you been offered a task so important as the one requested of you now:

You were beyond ecstatic when you received a request from the king of Camelot himself to paint a few portraits of his knights and himself. Of course, you would be greatly compensated for the work (more so than ever before), but the request itself brought happiness to you and your family unparalleled to anything you’d ever felt before.

With a bounce in your step, you were strolling through Camelot’s gates a mere two days after receiving the letter. In your hurry, you had thrown together a single pack, filled with the brushes and paints you had managed to acquire through your travels, and a single red dress that would be worn on special occasions. That was the only article of clothing you could afford to bring with your limited space – aside from the work dress you were currently traveling in.

As you strolled through the streets of the city, you were in awe of the colorful stalls that lined the cobblestone road. Vibrant fabrics, fresh fruits, children playing and weaving through the crowd, it embodied a kingdom truly at peace. Your meandering, however, was cut short when a young child ran up to you and hid behind your legs.

“Well, hello,” You cooed at the young boy. His hair was a caramel brown and disheveled from playing. He looked as if he had barely turned seven, “What are you doing back there?”

You tried to turn around, but he was gripping your skirt so that he would move as you do.

“Don’t let him find me,” The child begged, and protective instincts began kicking in. If someone was after this child, you would not let them get anywhere near him.

“Who are you hiding from?” You ask, scanning the people in the surrounding area and trying to cover the boy up more. He poked his head out from behind you briefly, and pointed at a dark-haired man with stubble in chain mail and a red cape – A knight.

You nodded as the knight made eye contact with you and came your way, smiling with a bounce in his step.

“Excuse me, my lady, have you seen a young boy run by?” He asked, his voice deceitfully kind for someone after a child.

“I haven’t seen anyone,” You roll your shoulders back so that you were puffing out your chest in an attempt to make yourself look bigger and more serious.

“Are you sure?” His hands were clasped behind his back and he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m sure I saw him run this way; he’s always chasing the beauties of the city. And, my lady, I would definitely consider you a beauty.”

You looked at the cocky knight quizzically, “Did you check down that alley? I’m sure I saw someone darting down that way.” You were avoiding his flirtatious comment, only focused on the kid gripping your skirt.

The knight seemed to consider your offer, but a small giggle erupted from behind you.

“Ah,” The man smirked at you, “Yes you are right, maybe James went back to hide the treasure he stole from Ms. Seward’s kitchen in his hideout.”

He feigned walking away, which had you fooled for a moment. Your breath hitched – though – as he abruptly turned and, reaching around you, grabbed the child and swung him through the air. The blood roaring in your ears drowned out the two’s laughter, and you reacted by swiftly plucking James away from the knight and holding him in your arms.

“Are you so cruel as to hunt a child for petty thievery?” You cry out, holding him farther away from the knight. “If he stole food, he must need it. Let me pay for whatever it is that he took.”

The grin fell from the knight’s face, “What are you on about?”

“You-You’re trying to arrest the child for stealing, but this is a simple fix as I said I am willing to pay whatever the price is for his crime.” You jut your chin out defiantly at the man, and you watch as laughter bubbled from his lips.

“James what did you tell this woman?” He cackles, reaching for James, “Miss, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Well, then explain it to me before I just let you take him.” You refused to let him near James still, worried it was some ruse.

“James and I stole a pan of pastries from the head chef in the palace. The brat ran off with the last one that we were going to share-“ he sent a pointed look at James, “-and it turned into a game of hide and seek.”

You let out a quiet ‘ooh’ and set James down. The boy immediately skipped over to the knight, and you had to keep yourself from slapping yourself on the forehead. Of course, it was just a game, not every place is as corrupt as you previously observed.

“I do admire your protecting the kid, though.” The knight said as he extends and open palm to you, “I’m Gwaine, by the way.”

“Y/N,” You take his hand, and he presses a chaste kiss to your knuckle.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

James pretended to gag at the gesture and ran away from the scene, “Thanks for playing, Sir Gwaine, but I’ve got to go be somewhere less gross now!”

And with that he disappeared through the crowd.

“I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to arrest a seven-year-old.” You adjust the pack on your back and attempt to hide your embarrassment over the whole ordeal behind your hair. Your cheeks were surely tinted pink.

“It’s quite alright, Lady Y/N.” Gwaine bites his lip to hide a smile, “It’s good to know there’s someone looking after the tiny troublemakers.”

You let out a giggle at his response and begin to resume your trek towards the palace, “Someone has to.”

“I assume, by your response, that you’re somewhat of a troublemaker yourself.” Gwaine laughs as he falls into step with you, “Or, at least, a retired one.”

“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about escaping authority, so keep that in mind if you try anything funny.”

He chuckles and holds his hands up in surrender, “You have my word as a gentleman that I won’t try anything funny…

… Unless you want me to.” He leans in and whispers that last part to you. You are forced to quicken your pace so that he won’t see that the previously pink hue adorning your cheeks has gone to a bright red.

“No thank you,” Your voice is two octaves higher than it was before, “I am quite alright for now, now if you’ll excuse me –”

Basically, jogging at this point, you reach the palace much faster than you had anticipated. As you approach the entrance, you are met by King Arthur waiting with four knights by his side, as well as his wife and servant. You couldn’t help but be surprised that he would go to such lengths for a humble painter. You hardly had time to compose your heavy breathing before the king began descending down the stone stairs towards you. You dipped into a low curtsey as the queen followed, waiting for the two of them to address you before speaking.

“Welcome to Camelot, Lady Y/N.” King Arthur’s voice was warm and soothing, nothing like what you expected. You’ve heard that he was a kind and just king, but assumed you would be facing a drunken old man who was more positively ignorant than kind. To be fair, you had never been to Camelot before, and had never met anyone – aside from Gwaine now – from the great kingdom. You gathered what you could from other drunken rich men and assumed they were biased in their retellings. But no – the man who stood before you now held no resemblance to the other noble you had had the pleasure of working with.

“Your Highness,” You bowed your head, “I am truly honored to be at your service. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Yea, so you were kind of playing it up a bit for the king, but you learned that buttering up nobles made them tip a little more.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He smiled and it was blinding, “May I introduce you to my wife, Guinevere – she is a very big fan of your work. She’s positively obsessed with your landscapes.”

Queen Guinevere elbowed her husband in the side while grinning at you, “I’m not obsessed, though I will admit that I am a big fan. Your color schemes and brush details make the pictures seem more like realty than reality itself. I insisted that my husband commission you the moment he told me he needed to get some portraits done.”

You couldn’t help the enormous smile that broke out across your face. A queen was complimenting your paintings in such a way that your heart nearly burst with joy. “I thank you, my Lady. I am unbelievably ecstatic that you enjoy my work.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” She winked, “My praise does not fall on someone undeserving of it. I do hope we can become friends during your stay, though.”

It took a moment to wipe the shocked expression from your face. You had never been greeted with such humility into a place like this. Every smile seemed genuine, nothing like the ones that were faked by many noble members of society.

“Merlin will show you to your room, and I invite you to dine with the knights and I tonight so that you may get to know a few friendly faces and – Gwaine where have you been?” King Arthur clapped a hand on the knight’s shoulder as he approached him.

“I was caught up in the beautiful sights the city has to offer nowadays.” Gwaine replied, shooting a wink in your direction.

You looked away from the pair and took your time to observe the knights who were still waiting on the stairs. You tried to focus on them, but you couldn't help watching the king and Sir Gwaine from your peripheral. 

“Well, I hope that view was worth organizing the armory and helping Merlin polish said armor before dinner tonight.” King Arthur beamed at the knight, who looked nonetheless pleased than he was earlier.

“Aye captain, whatever you say almighty King of Camelot.” Gwaine pat the king on the shoulder and bounded up the stairs into the palace. As he reached the doors, though, he turned and caught you watching him. You didn’t realize your eyes had fully strayed back to him, but you watched as his mouth quirked up slightly and he disappeared from your sight.

“Forgive me, Lady Y/N.” King Arthur apologized, coming to stand next to his wife once again, “As I was saying this would give you a chance to meet the mugs you will be painting beforehand.”

“That sounds like wonderful, Your Majesty,” You tear your eyes away from the door Gwaine disappeared through to smile at the king.

“Allow Merlin to take your bag, and, forgive me, but I must get ready for the feast and tend to an unruly knight.”

“Of course,” You chuckle and bow into a parting curtsey as the king returns the gesture before retreating into the castle with the knights in tow.

You turn towards the servant, Merlin, as he nervously introduces himself. “I’m Merlin, m’lady. I can take your bag and show you where you’ll be staying.”

You relinquish your hold on the bag and grinned at him, “Thank you, Merlin. You can call me Y/N, though. I’m not much of a lady.”

“You seem every part of a lady when you talk to Arthur and Gwen, though.” He said with a slight airier tone, and begins climbing the stairs.

“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to speak to a king and queen?” You ask as you follow him through the palace, trying to take note of the turns he’s taking so you don’t get lost when you’re walking through later.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted, laughing lightly, “If you ask Arthur, I’m the worst man-servant ever.”

“Yet, you haven’t been sacked, so he must like you.”

“It’s just because he knows he wouldn’t survive a single day without me,” Merlin stops at a wooden door and glances back at you, eyes twinkling with a joke you didn’t understand, “Here we are.”

As Merlin opens the door, you feel as if the oxygen has been sucked out of the air around you. It was much grander than any room you had ever been given before.

“This is amazing!” You squeal and run past Merlin into the room. The dark, oak bedframe looked elegant with white sheets and a table by an open window that was already covered in various paints, brushes, and canvases.

“The king and queen insisted on making sure you have every supply you could possibly need for the project.” Merlin informed you and you couldn’t help but beam at the table.

“This is more than I could ever need,” You sigh, dreamily.

“I think they felt bad asking you to do so many paintings all in one period. There’s the portraits of the five knights, the single portrait of the queen, the portrait of the king and queen, and then the larger painting with all the knights and the king and queen.” Merlin paused, “How long do you think you’ll be working on them?”

You calculated your answer, drawing from previous project times and prep time, before answering, “However long the king and queen allow me to, to be frank. It will take me nearly three months to finish all the portraits, another two months – maybe more – for the final painting. That’s not including time for a margin of error.”

“Well, Y/N, I look forward to getting to know you over the next few months. But, for now, I’ll let you get settled and ready for dinner.” And with that, he excused himself and slipped out the door as you turned to gawk at the new paints.

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