Gwen choked back a sob. It had been hard since her father had died, but she had somehow been able to keep the forge open by doing odd jobs. Now, however, she was looking at the last of her metal- just enough to make one dagger. She dried her tears and set the tools out, ready to be used in the morning before she went to work at the castle, then slipped into bed.

Come daybreak the servant rose to find an ornate dagger and sheath had replaced the materials she left out the night before. Confused, she searched for some sign of what had happened, but only discovered her tools still in place with the materials gone. It seemed as if someone had done her work for her- even better than she could have- but how was that possible without leaving a trace or waking her with the sounds of the forge?

For the moment she simply sent up a quick prayer of thanks and left to deliver the dainty weapon to her patron, who was so impressed he paid extra. In fact, he paid enough she could buy materials for two more daggers, which she did without hesitation. Even if it was for but one more day she would extend her father's legacy. The smithy had been in the family for several generations and was one of the few remaining links to her father.

Once again she returned home and laid out the ingots she had purchased, the tools still in place from the day previous, and went to bed with a light heart.

She woke just before dawn and once again found her forging done; fine work ready and waiting for her inspection. There was little doubt she'd be able to sell both them at market that morning.

When Guinevere returned in the evening she set up the metal she had purchased- enough for two short swords- and retreated inside, crouching behind her door and peering through the key-hole to catch sight of her benefactor.

It was well into the night by the time she heard movement on the other side, only the faintest outline of a person visible in the moonlight before a soft light flared and revealed a familiar face.

Merlin?

She almost gave herself away, just barely containing her gasp of surprise- particularly when he picked up the ingots and whispered something as his eyes lit up, shaping the metal to his will. Gwen froze, completely incapable of moving until Merlin left, another spell erasing his footprints from the dirt floor.

The maidservant flung herself away from the door, heart racing as fast as her thoughts.

Merlin- magic? Merlin? Magic?!

Grabbing hold of her washbasin she plunged her face into the chill water, coming up much more coherent.

Clearly something must be done about this.

Merlin smiled as he passed Gwen in the corridor, glad to see how much happier she had been the past few days- and pleased that she didn't seem to suspect him.

He had been so sure he'd sensed someone last night after making the swords, but hadn't been keen to investigate and possibly cause his own discovery. However, here was Guinevere smiling brightly as if all was right with the world whilst he himself remained un-imprisoned with all limbs intact so clearly his secret must be safe.

Still, maybe he shouldn't go for a few nights... then he thought of Gwen's face, radiant with joy, and tossed the idea aside.

That night found him sneaking into the forge once more- only this time, instead of metal, he found a brand new coat laid out on the workbench and a note.

Looking around nervously and finding no one he picked up the bit of parchment.

Merlin,

He nearly dropped the missive and ran right then and there, but had just enough reason remaining to keep him in place. Surely if Gwen- and this was certainly her rough writing- had intended to turn him in she would have done so by now, right? He swallowed thickly and continued his reading.

Merlin,

Thank you. Yes, I saw you last night. Don't be afraid. Your secret is safe with me.
You have helped me see what is really important. I do not need to keep this forge running to keep my father's memory alive- and I don't need to dwell on what has passed. Not when I have such a great friend by my side.

Please accept this gift in return for your aid.
I will no longer be running the smithy so do take greater care to not get caught.

Ever your friend,
Gwen

The warlock blinked back tears and crumpled the note in one fist, incinerating the potentially-incriminating letter with a thought before cautiously fingering the fine material of the jacket. It was easily worth more than his entire wardrobe. Oh Gwen... He wiped his nose before smiling widely and gathering the fabric in his arms, making his way back to the physician's chambers.

They never talked about the note or the magical weapons-forging, but everyone noticed how much closer the two became; more like devoted siblings than simple friends. And when Merlin was finally recognized as Camelot's Ambassador of Magic, no one glowed with more pride than Queen Guinevere.