Young Arthur waited until he was a hallway away from Gaius' chambers before catching his English counterpart's arm and pulling him into a small alcove.

"What's the matter?" Old Arthur asked. "I thought we were going to see your uncle."

"We are," the younger Arthur admitted slowly. "But I took you along because I wanted to talk to you."

"About…"

Young Arthur licked his lips and folded his hands together. In a nervous voice barely more than a whisper, he said, "…When you said that your Merlin was hurting, what exactly did you mean?"

Old Arthur was silent a few seconds. "…You mean how can you stop it before it starts?" he said. His eyes, still hidden by the hood, crinkled in the corners. "I've asked myself that question many times over the years. It's not the only one I've asked, heavens knows. How could I have stopped Merlin from hurting? How can I remove the sadness from Gawain's eyes? How can I get rid of Griflet without insulting anyone important? How can I get Lancelot to come back without shaming us both?" The great king sighed, not noticing the sharp interest forming on his complement's face. "I don't think you can. You'll just have to hope that your Merlin is able to stay with you forever."

"That's not good enough," Arthur argued, shaking his head. "What if it does happen? I need to know how to fix it. How to make it better. Gaius could help, couldn't he? You don't have a Gaius—"

"Arthur," Old Arthur said, holding up a hand. "I'm sorry. If it happens, you won't know. He won't tell you when it starts, although after he's gone you'll be able to pinpoint the moment on your own. Hindsight sees all, and all. And then you'll remember many times he winced or went pale that you didn't notice at the time." He sighed deeply. "Pain lines will appear on his face, and you won't see them there until you bid him goodbye and they suddenly disappear. His hair will turn grey—white, in my case—but you won't see the streaks until he turns to leave you."

"I can't believe that. Merlin is…he's my best friend."

"Yes, and mine was a father to me." The older Arthur started into the darkness of the forest. His eyes were misting, but the younger Arthur didn't say a word. "If he had told me…I don't know. I don't know what I would have done—what I could have done. I wish he had told me. He said he didn't want to worry me, not so early in my reign. He didn't want to leave me until he was sure I was well-protected." His gaze drifted down the hallway toward the room they'd left.

"And you're protected now?"

"Most thoroughly. Is there anything else you wanted to know right this minute?"

"Yes." Young Arthur's voice dropped even lower, and he took a half step closer. "I need to know that you trust your men. I need to know if I can trust them. You three are a highly sensitive matter, and I'm breaking decades of tradition and law and going against my better judgment allowing you to stay here. I need to be sure I'm doing the right thing, trusting them."

Old Arthur crossed his arms. "But you'll trust me sight unseen?"

"Who can I trust, if I can't trust myself?" He grinned. "Besides that, Merlin and Gwaine like you. I can tell. Those two are sometimes as good as dogs as a judge of character. But Gwaine doesn't trust your Gawain and the squire's just a servant, albeit a weird one. So. Do you trust them?"

Arthur nodded immediately. "Gawain has my absolute trust, and love. He has done more for me than I doubt you will ever know, or that your Gwaine will ever do for you."

Young Arthur drew a short breath and acknowledged the words with a nod. "And the squire?"

Old Arthur was silent for a moment, thinking. Then his smile widened. "…I get these absolutely monstrous nightmares sometimes. You know the ones? Well, maybe you don't. They're the kind of dreams that make you wake up, throw up and swear you'll never close your eyes again. The squire is in every single one of them."

Young Arthur raised an eyebrow. "So you don't trust him? But you allow him to stay in Camelot and do not suspect him of any wrongdoing?"

"You misunderstand me. I trust Terence perhaps more than I do Gawain. Because the nightmares only end when he appears. Terence is in every one because he's the one chasing the bogey man away.*" And he stepped out of the alcove without another word. "To Agravaine?"

"…Right," Arthur said, shaking his head. "But we're not finished here." He led the way to his uncle's chambers.

*Fun assumptions! The nightmares idea is based off the titular oneshot of my story Especially There, and the following ST quotes…

…Gawain looked about his bed, bemused.
"I've either had a very strange dream," he said, "or you've got some explaining to do, lad."
Terence's eyes twinkled. "Have you been dreaming of the bogey man, then? Shall I protect you?"
"Faith, lad, I think you could…" –The Squire's Tale, page 114

And, of course,

Gawain knelt and said, "Our service is always yours, sire."
"Even in my dreams?" Arthur asked.
"Especially there, oh king," Terence murmured, bowing. –The Squire's Tale, page 116

…I read these books way, way too much.

Also, just wanted to let you know. College started, which means I get better, more reliable internet access for longer…and less of a chance to use it. However, I work better with distractions, as insane as that sounds, so while this could mean a slack in updates until I get in the swing of things, or it could mean business as usual. Just wanted to warn you. If I vanish, it's because I have school.