A/N: This one is a follow-up to chapter 83, "Guinevere the Vampire Slayer." If you need a quick refresher: Gwen is a Slayer, Camelot has a vampire problem, and she and Merlin know each other's secrets.


When Agravaine had told him there was something he needed to see, he hadn't expected this.

This being Gwen stabbing Lancelot in the chest with a wooden stake.

And then Lancelot exploding into dust.

Arthur agreed that he did need to see this, but Agravaine really should have phrased this differently, or, better yet, called for the guards and thencalled for Arthur.

Merlin came running in panting from the other direction, so apparently he'd heard something too, and he at least had reacted with appropriate haste . . . although once again with an inappropriate lack of calling for the guards. But this was Merlin, and Arthur had pretty much given up on anything different.

"Guinevere, are you alright?" he said, shaking off his shock to stride forward.

She jumped, and the stake clattered from her hand. "Arthur! Arthur, I - " She looked helplessly at the dust pile on the floor.

"Witchcraft," Agravaine breathed.

For one terrifying moment, Arthur remembered the last time someone had leveled that accusation at Gwen.

Then he remembered that he was king now, and nothing was witchcraft unless he said it was. "Nonsense," he said, groping for an explanation. "That was - that was - "

"Lancelot was a vampire," Merlin blurted out.

Arthur gestured imperiously in his direction. "Vampirism. Yes, exactly. Vampires . . . always . . . do that when they die."

"A vampire?" Agravaine sounded politely incredulous.

"We only just found out," Merlin said, and that was not, actually, his terrible excuses voice, so apparently Lancelot really had been a vampire.

Morgana was a witch, Lancelot was a vampire, and Arthur really didn't want to know what was going to be sprung on him next.

"He wasn't before he died, of course," Merlin continued, and that was something of a relief, "and he wasn't changed in the usual way, so it took us a while to be sure. Gwen was helping us look into things."

"On the night before her wedding?" Agravaine still sounded politely incredulous. Arthur was starting to feel a little offended on his people's behalf.

Merlin held up his hand like he was confiding a great secret as he stage-whispered, "Pre-wedding jitters. She needed a distraction."

Gwen jolted back to life with a flush. "Merlin!"

"What?" He held up his hands in mock innocence.

Gwen refused to acknowledge this. "We were coming to tell you," she told Arthur earnestly. "Gaius - Gaius made the stakes to fight him, they're the best weapon for it - Gaius says that, Gaius says they're the best weapon for it, but then I bumped into Lancelot on the way - "

"And took care of it yourself," Arthur concluded. "I'm impressed." He looked over to where his manservant was sagging in relief. Presumably he also had terrifying memories of the word witchcraft being thrown around. "And where were you, Merlin?"

"Getting the knights," he said promptly. "But then I heard Gwen scream - "

"Shout," she said firmly.

"Shout," Merlin corrected swiftly, "in a very manly fashion - warriorly? Warriorly fashion? And I came to help. What brought you and Agravaine here?"

Arthur looked expectantly at Agravaine.

" . . . I caught a glimpse of the monster's true form," Agravaine said. "Before he had found Guinevere, of course. I thought you should know, but of course you must see for yourself . . . "

Arthur nodded in satisfaction.

They were all lying to him, of course, but at least they had their stories straight.


The Next Morning


"Arthur," Gwen said, hands twisting in her skirt, "Arthur, I need to talk to you."

This was a little unexpected, seeing as he was in the middle of getting dressed for their wedding, which was supposed to be in less than half an hour, thank you for the delay, Merlin, but Gwen was never unwelcome, of course.

Despite the frantic head shaking and throat slicing motion Merlin was doing behind his back, and really, had Merlin forgotten they were both standing in front of a mirror?

"It can wait," Merlin said manically, "bad luck to see a bride before the wedding, very bad luck - "

"I have to," Gwen burst through. "I have to tell you this before you marry me, it wouldn't be right otherwise - "

"Alright," Arthur said, tugging his shirt the rest of the way down because this really felt like a conversation he should have a shirt on for. He turned around so he could give her his full attention. "I'm listening."

Merlin's hand was darting towards the very heavy pitcher still sitting on Arthur's desk from breakfast. Arthur grabbed his wrist before Merlin could make whatever distracting disaster he was planning with it.

Gwen's hands were completely twisted up now, and she was biting her lip in a way she hadn't for years. "I - I - "

Arthur decided he should probably make this easier on everyone. "You're . . ." he said leadingly, gesturing her onward.

"I'm - "

Okay, this was just painful. "You're a witch," he said gently.

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

"I know," he said. "I've known ever since you healed your father during that plague. My father might have conveniently forgotten about that, but I didn't. You're a witch, and Merlin has been helping you - I'm sure Gaius still has a few old spell books tucked away somewhere, it wouldn't be too much trouble even for Merlin to slip them out . . ." He paused. "I'm glad you decided to tell me," he added.

He was. He really, really was. He couldn't describe how much lighter it made him feel to know that she really did trust him, she really did care, that she wasn't just going along with this to further her own plans.

It would further everyone's plans, of course, for her to be a witch; it would be a fantastic gesture for the magic community when word got out, a reason for them to trust that he really did plan to make changes - but that wasn't all it was, not at all, and he felt so much better now that he knew she wasn't just going along because of his hints in that direction.

"Oh," she squeaked. "Um. It's actually . . . a little more complicated than that? There is magic involved. But. Um. Very specific magic. It makes me stronger and faster and sometimes - not a lot! Not like Morgana! - but sometimes there are these. Dreams. That mean something. And help me fight monsters. Like Lancelot."

He blinked. "So your father . . . "

Merlin tugged futilely at the grip Arthur still had absently had on his wrist before giving in and saying, "I want to remind you, for the record, that I told you this about three weeks after I met you, and it's not my fault you didn't believe me."

"You're the witch," Arthur said as comprehension dawned.

"Warlock," Merlin said, highly offended. "And Gwen's a Slayer. And we're both very definitely not evil, and the people of Camelot would be really disappointed if we had a witch burning instead of a wedding, so I think we should probably avoid that. You know how hard Cook's been working on that cake, do you really want to risk upsetting her? Because I don't. I think that would be bad. In fact - "

"Merlin," Arthur said, mainly to cut off the babbling.

Merlin winced. "Sire?"

"I am not canceling the wedding."

Gwen brightened. Merlin still looked tense.

". . . or executing anyone."

Merlin also brightened.

"We are going to be talking about all of this. Tomorrow. Or possibly the day after that. But definitely after the wedding. Understood?"

He had waited this long to marry Guinevere. He wasn't going to let anything get in the way out of it now.

Besides. As far as revelations from people he trusted went, he had definitely had worse.