Lord Richards was not a stupid man.
He didn't like the king's decision to throw away a profitable treaty with Nemeth for the sake of some serving girl. He didn't like the way the young king pushed the already fragile kingdom by forcing the nobles to accept common born knights. He certainly didn't like the complacency towards magic that allowed Emrys himself to continue on as the king's manservant.
That last he didn't entirely blame the king for. The king was a busy man; he couldn't be expected to keep up with everything his servant did, and what man, when he looked at that idiot, would ever jump to magic as a conclusion, no matter what the evidence? If Lord Richards himself had taken years to discover the truth, than he could hardly expect a youngling like Arthur to figure it out on his own.
So he didn't blame him for not spotting it off hand, but he blame him for not purging the staff every so often. That would have taken care of the problem.
Purge the servants, marry for the good of the kingdom, for the love of Camelot, risking a civil war over a few brawlers . . . Lord Richards had plenty of thoughts.
But Lord Richards was not a stupid man.
Which was why, when some of his fellow nobles were caught muttering and subsequently had to face the wrath of the king, he was not among them.
Which was why, when some of his fellow nobles were caught plotting and subsequently disappeared while Merlin was going "herb picking", he was not among them.
Which was why, when the knights started throwing their weight around on the training field, he wasn't among the humiliated knights.
Well, that and the fact that his bad knee had kept him from fighting for years. Cursed wounds didn't heal easy, and not even Gaius could heal everything sent against men who had fought for Uther in the Purge.
Lord Richards saw Agravaine fall and brash young knights go home blushing, and he learned from others' mistakes not to attack directly.
He didn't accuse Gaius of anything despite the books he knew the man still kept.
He didn't try and kill Merlin.
He didn't even say rude things about the Queen.
All of those things would fail and thus be utterly pointless, and Lord Richards was, above all, not a stupid man. He might have come home with a bad knee, but the rest of the men who'd been in that attack hadn't come back at all. He knew when to attack and when to wait, and now was a time to wait.
Wait, until good luck and well paid spies told him where Merlin - Emrys, whatever the boy's real nae was - where that hid his book of magic.
Another man would have gone and told the king, but that had been tried, and after so many times accusations against Merlin having been proven false, Richards doubted Arthur would believe a signed confession. Emrys might have him bewitched, for all he knew.
No, the king was a lost cause.
But the knights. Brash. Young. Eager for glory. Eager to win the respect of the court.
They would be happy to take out a sorcerer.
Whether or not they actually wasn't his problem. Either they would take Emrys out, and probably be a few smaller in number for their troubles, or Emrys would wipe them out and possibly reveal himself in the process. Either way, he won.
He started with Gwaine. Percival was too quiet to do much good at stirring up the others, Elyan might approach the Queen - and through her, the king - about the matter, and Richards still had a soft spot for Sir Leon. He might have the chosen the wrong side in politics, but Sir Leon was a good man, and he'd earned his place in the knights. Richards would rather not see him dead at Emrys' hands.
Gwaine, though, was a hothead and a loud one. Richards waited until just before Gwaine usually left for the tavern and then went and knocked on his chamber door. Gwaine drank alone, so now was his best chance for a private meeting.
Gwaine looked surprised to see him, naturally enough, but the fool waved him in anyway with a careless gesture that set Richards' teeth on edge.
"What brings you here, your lordship?" Gwaine leaned against the mantle on the fireplace. He didn't offer his visitor a chair.
Richards gritted his teeth but forced himself to remain collected. "A servant found a disturbing item recently, and, not knowing what to do with it, brought it to me. I would have brought it to the king, but . . . " He shrugged helplessly. "It's a difficult matter. I thought someone else might be better suited to handle the situation."
Gwaine frowned. "What was it?"
"Ah!" He opened the satchel he'd brought with him and pulled the book out. "I didn't want to be seen carrying it, you understand," he said apologetically as he handed it over. "As far as I can tell, it's a book of magic." That it was a book of magic was evident from the first page, but he wasn't entirely certain the so-called knight could read.
Gwaine flipped through it quickly, frown even deeper. He froze when the scribblings in the margins finally caught his eye.
"I compared the handwriting to a vial of medicine Gaius sent with the boy," he added softly. "It is most certainly Merlin's."
Gwaine was still examining the pages. "You told the king about this yet?"
"Not yet. I thought perhaps it would cause less embarrassment if the knights were to take care of this . . . quietly."
"Much less," Gwaine agreed. He set the book down carefully and started walking over to Lord Richards. "After all, he's already had to deal with far too many traitorous nobles."
"Trai- "
Gwaine closed the distance between them with a lunge and pressed Richards up against the stone wall. One hand pinned his shoulder to the stone. The other was wrapped uncomfortably tight around his neck.
"Traitorous nobles," Gwaine said pleasantly. "What else can you call it when a respected lord is found forging a servant's handwriting in a book of magic?
" I - didn't - " he choked out.
"My word against yours on that, mate. And when it comes to Merlin, who do you think Arthur's more likely to believe?"
He couldn't breathe, much less think.
Gwaine abruptly let him go, smiling like a man about to win at cards with an ace he'd pulled from his sleeve. "Unless, of course, that wasn't what happened. You could have been tricked by the servant that gave it to you. A little too eager for some coin, were they?"
Lord Richards was gasping too hard to reply.
"We needn't get into which servant it was, of course, since the plot failed. In fact, there'd be no real need to mention this to anyone at all." Gwaine's dark eyes glittered as he silently dared Lord Richards to try and squirm out of it any other way.
"No need at all," Lord Richards finally managed.
"Excellent!" Gwaine clapped him on the back. "I'll just take care of what remains then," he nodded toward the book, "and you can go sleep the sleep of the just."
Richards could have argued the point. Could have stayed and at least angled to get the book back.
Instead, he backed out the door.
He was not, after all, a stupid man.
Richards was a problem, Gwaine thought grimly. Something would have to be done about that.
In the meantime, he had a book of magic to deal with. Merlin would be wanting this back, and in the interest of not giving him a heart attack, Gwaine should probably try not to get noticed sneaking it back underneath that floorboard.
That would never work. Maybe he could just leave it someplace Merlin could steal it back from.
Out loud, he just chuckled and said, "Imagine thinking Merlin had magic."
Gwaine was not a superstitious man, but he'd heard Lancelot's stories, and he'd watched Lancelot die. Twice.
It could be a coincidence, but Gwaine didn't really believe in coincidences. He did, however, believe in destiny, curses, and bad luck, all things that seemed to hang around Merlin in abundance.
Alright, maybe he was a little superstitious, but was it really superstition if it was actual magic?
Gwaine wasn't sure. It was hard to be sure of a lot of things in Camelot. Regardless, he wasn't about to admit what he knew out loud.
He'd tell Merlin he'd found a weird book tomorrow. He was sure it would be gone by evening.
In the meantime, there were a few things he wanted to look up. He hadn't had anything to drink lately; the alcohol should be out of his system enough for him to work a few simple spells, and who could resist the spell book used by Emrys himself? Maybe he could even find a nonlethal way to keep Richards' mouth shut.
After making sure the door was firmly shut, Gwaine settled in to read.
A/N: I love giving unexpected characters magic.
I know fandom tends to think alcohol would make magic go crazy, but since alcohol's a depressant, I wondered if it might work the other way, at least for people who weren't Emrys. Thus, Gwaine getting drunk in an attempt to suppress his magic, an attempt I do not at all endorse (not that it applies to real life, anyway), but that did seem rather in character.
StarlightInHerEyes22's fic got me thinking about people making assumptions and outsider pov's, so I credited them for inspiring this fic. Hope you enjoyed!