A/N: I do not own- I wish I did, but I do not.
Between s3 and s4. Knights are now knighting etc. Merwaine. Arwen or Gwenlot I'm not sure yet but it's background. If you have a preference Arwen or Gwenlot put it in the comments and I'll tally it for part 2. I don't think there's anything else to put in here, so... please enjoy.
Merlin woke with a gasp.
"We need to hurry, we have our supplies, we have to get out before they find us."
Damn, he thought, more Druids in the city. At least these ones didn't seem a threat. They just wanted supplies.
He let himself slump back against his pillow, sunlight just beginning to light the sky outside his window.
At least he wouldn't be late for Arthur.
He listened quietly as the druids escaped the city, a small smile flickering onto his face at the thought that some of his kin had made it away unharmed.
It was going to be a good day.
Once the sun had risen, he made his way to the kitchens before wandering up to Arthurs room. The routine was imbedded: tray on the table, open the curtains, yell, "Rise and shine", duck.
And then Arthur announced he'd decided he wanted to go for a hunt.
Round table only.
Gaius had declined with an apology but no-one had expected him to come, not when there was a sickness in the lower town and three women due to give birth within the weeks end.
Gwaine, Leon, Elyan, Percival, Lancelot and Gwen had all agreed. And Merlin had no choice. As per usual.
They'd set out about midday with provision and plans to be away for long weekend.
It'd been pretty peaceful actually, for the first few days, with casual chatter and Arthur flirting with Gwen to break up the silence. He'd mostly hung back with Gwaine and Lancelot talking about whatever came to mind, sharing stories. They were all careful not to mention magic, but he was comfortable with them, knowing they were the only ones in the group to know and that they wouldn't betray him.
Then Lancelot had ridden forwards to talk with Percival and left the two of them alone.
Gwaine had worked his magic out from the day they'd met, apparently noticing the flying plates everyone else missed. He hadn't asked but had waited instead. Apparently Grettir had confirmed it talking about strength and magic. Gwaine had finally asked in the Perilous Lands and with his acceptance Merlin had found more than just another ally.
Gwaine had been forced to leave him, of course, but they'd stayed in contact.
Merlin couldn't deny, some days it was one of the only things keeping him going.
And, for all that Lancelot was the older friend and the first to know, he was closer to Gwaine, for more reasons than one. Gwaine, he could relate too. They both had secrets, some of which were remarkably similar.
And Lance was far too noble to flirt with him. Gwaine had no such qualms. Everyone thought it was a long running joke, and it was, because Gwaine was far more romantic than anyone else but he would ever know.
The idea of courting someone had seemed inconceivable for most of his life; and then he'd met someone he liked and they'd been forced to leave. In the Perilous Lands he'd found his feelings were reciprocated, right after revealing his magic. It'd been a weird day.
They couldn't court while Gwaine was away, but not all the letters sent and received had been tales of how their weeks had been. Some had been romantic; some had been filled with longing; some had been pieces of poetry (because apparently Gwaine was also a poet); some had been downright lewd.
After the fiasco with saving Camelot, Gwaine had been allowed to stay, and longing missives had been replaced by sneaking flowers and then kisses and then more.
And people said Gwaine wasn't a gentleman.
Well, he did have a reputation for drinking and flirting but he also had a reputation for never staying in one place more than a week. Things had changed now.
No-one but Lancelot and Gaius knew, and they planned for it to stay that way for a while.
They were waiting for Arthur to propose to Gwen first.
Their conversation was broken by an arrow going through the neck of Merlin's horse. Also broken were at least one of Merlin's ribs and perhaps his wrist as he hit the earth, the weight of his horse on top of him barely a second after.
He knew he wold be lucky to come out anything other than majorly injured; he'd seen for too many men with Gaius paralysed or killed by a horse on top of them, or having broken legs and hips and other bones.
"Merlin!"
Still, he couldn't move.
Or breathe, really.
"Ambush!"
"Take Cover!"
Apparently, their attackers had left their cover to fight by swords instead. Battle echoed around him as he tried to pull himself out from under his horse's corpse.
Then hands found themselves under his arms and pulled him out from under the horse and behind a tree.
His eyes met Percival's.
"Are you alright?"
"I... I think so."
All he could focus on was the pain, his head spinning and limbs burning. He couldn't even work out where it was coming from, just that it radiated and rippled and oh, it was the only thing left.
He didn't notice their being overwhelmed and forced to surrender.
Not their being bound and lead forwards at sword point.
Percival's grip on his arm had been the only thing keeping him focused as the world was spun and spots danced in his eyes. It was the only thing grounding him to reality. To consciousness.
It was wrenched away cruelly.
He blacked out.
Next update in a few days
