A/N:
I am rubbish at planning story lengths. I have nothing else to say for myself. [Translation: Part 3 is more than twice as long as Parts 1 & 2 combined—partly because I wanted to keep all six 'impossible things' within a single installment—but this fic is finally complete!]
Part Three: Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast
Gwen's hands trembled as she held the sword, both from fear of the sorcerer at arms' length and anger at, well, the entire situation.
She was angry that Arthur was in emotional peril as well as physical danger because their shared best friend might yet prove to be a traitor. In that moment, however, she was first and foremost angry and afraid that Merlin might be dead.
Dragoon had raised both hands defensively—bringing the hand still clutching the neckerchief back into Gwen's line of sight—in what was probably intended to be a placating gesture.
Gwen was not placated.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Looking at the scarf, she realised Dragoon had intended Merlin's death all along. He'd set him up to die for regicide if the fomorrah plot had succeeded. Now that the plot had been uncovered, Dragoon was destroying evidence.
Including Merlin.
A tear slid down Gwen's cheek, but still she held the sword.
Dragoon hadn't answered her original question, but another slipped out nonetheless.
"Why did you want him dead?" she asked through hot tears.
"The king?" Dragoon asked.
"Not Arthur; I meant Merlin."
"What?" he sputtered. "Why would—I'm—uh, he's not dead!"
"Then where is he?"
"...Um, not here?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't dare look away. Dragoon's eyes flashed gold; Gwen cringed as Gwaine and Elyan hit the ground again with muffled thuds. Taking advantage of Dragoon's distraction, she pushed forward.
"Don't hurt them again," she snapped, pressing the sword point to the sorcerer's chest.
He hissed at the sting as it pricked his robes. "All right, all right! Just...just please don't—"
Gwaine and Elyan climbed achingly to their feet again, retrieved Gwaine's sword, and limped over to Gwen.
"Tie his hands," she told them, gesturing to the neckerchief.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After Elyan had finished knotting the scrap of cloth tightly around the sorcerer's wrists, the knight kept a firm grip on Dragoon's bony, arthritic arm while Gwaine and Gwen continued to guard him at sword-point.
"Now," Gwaine said, his face set in a bitter scowl, "I believe the lady asked you a question."
Gwen blinked away tears and tried to put her thoughts in order. She couldn't be sure through her still-blurred vision, but she thought Dragoon might be close to tears, too.
"Merlin is alive?" she whispered, afraid to hope.
"Yes," he replied, adding under his breath, "...for now."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen gaped, shocked that Dragoon would so brazenly threaten to kill Merlin while two swords were pointed squarely at his own chest.
"Why do you want him dead!?" she demanded again. "What wrong has he ever done to you?"
Dragoon rolled his eyes. "He's an idiot," he huffed, "but I'd also very much like to keep him alive."
"Then we agree on something," Gwaine growled. "So do us a favour: tell us where to find him."
"I...I can't. I'm sorry."
Gwen thought he did look genuinely sorry, but she couldn't understand why, unless...
"...Wait," she gasped. "Are you allies?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dragoon opened his mouth and abruptly shut it again. Gwen's stomach dropped.
So Merlin really was… She frowned. But...but that still doesn't make sense!
"But if you're allies, why would you need to use a fomorrah to compel him to kill Arthur?"
"I don't want to kill Arthur!" Dragoon snapped, finding his voice at last. "The fomorrah was Morgana's doing."
Gwen, Elyan, and Gwaine all inhaled sharply at that.
"You're working with Morgana?" Elyan asked.
No, Gwen thought, Please, not that!
That'd be much, much worse than Gwen had feared. Had her two closest friends really betrayed Camelot together?
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Was Merlin working with Morgana all along, and I never even noticed?
Dragoon interrupted her self-recriminations.
"Never," he hissed. "I took the fomorrah—the mother beast—away from Morgana and destroyed it; it won't grow back again."
"Wait, you're saying you were protecting Arthur?" Elyan asked, incredulous.
"And where does Merlin fit into all of this?" Gwaine interjected.
"He...he doesn't!" Dragoon sputtered.
"Then why do you have his scarf?" Gwaine countered, nodding at Dragoon's bound wrists.
"Um..." Dragoon deflated, hunching in on himself with a resigned sigh. "I'll explain...but could we all sit down first? My knees ache."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen was sceptical, to say the least.
"If we do that, what's to stop you from just casting another spell and escaping?" she asked.
Dragoon snorted, but Gwen didn't see the humour. He met her gaze, his eyes still discomfitingly familiar.
"I'm a sorcerer, remember? I don't need a sword; I don't need spells, frankly. So what difference do you honestly think this"—he held up his scarf-bound wrists pointedly—"would make if I chose to escape?"
"So...why haven't you escaped already?" Gwaine asked, eyes narrowing.
Gwen tilted her head. "And why did you attack them but not me?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dragoon stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head.
"...I am such an idiot," he muttered. "Fine, yes, I attacked them but not you."
"Why?"
Dragoon shrugged dismissively. "Because they can handle it; Arthur dishes out worse during training, but—"
"How would you know that?" Elyan interrupted. "Have you been spying on us?"
Dragoon ignored him, focusing solely on Gwen. "—But I'd rather die than see you hurt."
Gwen stared at him, shocked, before blurting, "You almost did, once."
He blinked at her, then looked away. "Twice, actually."
She had no idea what to say to that.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dragoon cleared his throat, shattering the stunned silence.
"Can we please sit now?"
"Suit yourself," Gwaine said icily, "but I'll stand."
Elyan helped Dragoon sit with his back against a tree. Gwen sat directly in front of Dragoon, well out of arms' reach. By unspoken agreement, Elyan let her keep his sword. She laid it across her knees but didn't ease her death-grip on the hilt. Elyan and Gwaine stationed themselves on either side of her, hemming the sorcerer in.
"Let's, um, start at the beginning, I guess?" Gwen said, hoping she sounded more confident and collected than she felt.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Are you working with Morgana?" she asked, still fearing the answer.
"No. I told you that already."
"Are you working with anyone else to betray or attack Camelot?"
"No. I would never."
"But you attacked us yesterday," Gwaine observed.
"You stopped me while I was going to steal the fomorrah from Morgana!" he huffed. "I didn't have time for being dragged back to Camelot and executed, not when Arthur was in danger."
"Why do you care? He hunts men like you," Elyan asked, his expression guarded.
Dragoon dropped his gaze to his bound wrists.
"I know. Believe me, I know."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
When he looked up again, Dragoon met Gwen's gaze with honest conviction.
"But I also know Arthur has a good heart, and he's going to be the greatest king this land has ever seen."
His hunched shoulders straightened, and his eyes glazed wistfully.
"I believe in the fair and just kingdom he will build, and I hope one day my people will be free to share in it."
Hearing his reverent words, Gwen found herself considering an impossible thing: whether good sorcerers might actually exist. Or not-fully-corrupted sorcerers, at least? She still had a lot of questions to ask, though.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"So you really didn't have anything to do with putting the fomorrah in Merlin's neck?"
"Gross. Absolutely not. I would never touch dark magic like that."
"Why make a distinction?" Elyan asked. "The law says magic corrupts those who use it. Wouldn't that make all magic dark?"
"No. Magic isn't good or evil; it just is."
Another impossible thing, Gwen thought.
Dragoon continued, "Magic's part of the elemental balance of the world, just like fire or earth. Like earthen metals can be mined and forged into many things, magic can be harnessed and shaped by those who possess the gift."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
That...makes sense, actually, Gwen thought, glancing down at the sword she still gripped tightly.
Dragoon followed her gaze. "Your father forged iron into swords—used to protect or to harm—but he also forged things for peacetime, like plough blades for planting, kettles for cooking, and nails for fitting horseshoes. Magic is just as variable, just as malleable."
Gwaine spoke up. "I've seen a lot of strange things in this world, so let's say I'm willing to keep an open mind about all this elemental stuff. But if magic just is, then why'd you call the fomorrah 'dark magic'?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen felt something shift in the air, like the prickling sensation of an approaching storm.
"Intent matters," Dragoon said, power and conviction woven into every syllable. "Same as with forging and using swords. If someone wields a sword to harm innocent people, then we call their deeds evil, not their swords."
He glanced at each of them in turn before continuing.
"But if someone—like Arthur or one of you—wields a sword to defend the innocent, to stop those who seek to harm them, then we call your deeds and hearts noble. But a sword is just a sword."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen was still processing that analogy when Dragoon finally got around to answering Gwaine's question.
"...when someone creates a spell that twists and binds elemental magic into something solely capable of causing harm—like a fomorrah—we call that 'dark magic.'"
Gwaine nodded, but the sorcerer wasn't finished.
"Whoever created the first fomorrah filled it with their dark intent, and anyone who uses that spellwork to conjure a fomorrah crosses lines that should never be crossed," Dragoon spat with simmering anger. "They abuse the gift of magic and provoke backlash against those who treasure it and use it for good."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Following Dragoon's vehement declaration, Morgana's unspoken name and unspeakable deeds hung heavy in the silence between them.
Gwen still agonised over Morgana's betrayal; she found she couldn't help but ask, "If magic itself doesn't corrupt people, then what happened to Morgana?"
Dragoon dropped his gaze to his hands, picking at a loose thread on Merlin's neckerchief.
"Morgana is twisted in her hatred, but her magic isn't what twisted her. She was afraid, then angry, then bitter. Uther's choices, her choices, my choices..."
Dragoon grimaced.
"There's no one person who's solely responsible, but...but I blame myself for what she's become."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen stared at Dragoon. How had he caused—?
Dragoon sighed.
"I could've helped her when her magic first manifested, but I didn't. She was suffocating, but I was too afraid of risking my own neck."
He huffed a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.
"I knew how it felt to be terrified—of your own power, of people who would kill you as soon as look at you if they found out what you really were—and still I turned my back on her."
His words were heavy with shame.
"There is so much blood on her hands...but mine aren't clean, either."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Is that why you risked your life for Gwen's?" Elyan asked suddenly. "Because you felt guilty about what Morgana was doing, what she was becoming?"
Gwen hmm'd, watching the sorcerer closely as she thought aloud.
"You and I both know Arthur wasn't enchanted to love me. Looking back, I'm sure Morgana planted the first poultice, yet somehow you got caught planting the second one."
"There was no enchantment," he agreed, "but it...it wasn't just about stopping Morgana's plan. I had to protect you. I wasn't about to let you die, not when I had the ability to save you."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"You...you'd said 'twice,'" she asked quietly. "What did you mean?"
Dragoon looked at her searchingly for a long moment. Once again, she was struck by a sense of familiarity she couldn't quite place. It paled in comparison, however, to the vulnerability and fear flickering across his face. He glanced up at Gwaine.
"You've, uh…" He cleared his throat. "You've asked how Merlin fits into all this."
"And?" Gwaine asked, impatience barely concealing his concern.
Dragoon took a steadying breath. Hands still bound, he reached up and shifted his long hair to one side, exposing the back of his neck.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen gasped.
There, embedded in the back of Dragoon's neck, was a fomorrah.
"I...I don't understand," she stammered. "Did Morgana plant a second fomorrah?"
"No," Dragoon said softly. "Just the one. Well, one that would've kept growing back."
"Then how…?"
Twice, he'd said.
Dragoon had only once confessed to sorcery in front of the king to save her life, but…
...but someone else had done exactly that, once before.
Someone who'd also had a fomorrah...
No, please, not—
"Gwen?" the sorcerer asked hesitantly.
"It was you? The whole time?"
He shrugged self-consciously. "I told you I was in disguise."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It was far, far worse than she'd feared. Merlin wasn't just dead; he'd never really existed.
Just an old sorcerer in disguise.
His eyes were bright with unshed tears. She recognised those eyes now and felt sick.
"But I...we...we all trusted you."
"Gwen, please—" Not-Merlin's voice cracked. "I'm sorry I lied. I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice; sometimes it's easier to believe that you don't. You chose to pretend to be our friend."
"But I was—I am—"
"You pretended to be Merlin," she snapped.
"Wait, what?" Not-Merlin sputtered.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Not-Merlin stared at them. Confusion resolved into incredulity.
"Wait, wait—you think Merlin is the disguise, not this?" He looked utterly fed up as he gestured vaguely at his robe and beard. "Seriously?"
It was such a Merlin expression that Gwen's heart ached with grief.
"Why shouldn't we?" Gwaine said. "I've seen shapeshifting before: those two imposters in the melee—"
Gwen interjected, "And an old sorceress impersonated a young singer at that first feast 'Merlin' attended, so—"
Gwaine cut her off, cursing colourfully.
"They used crystals with dead men's blood. Did you kill the real Merlin and take his place?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
That was apparently the last straw for the increasingly incredulous sorcerer.
"No!" he retorted, "I'm the real Merlin. 'Dragoon' is the disguise!"
"...Which is exactly what you'd say if you were lying," Elyan pointed out.
"And it turns out 'Merlin' tells a lot of lies," Gwaine growled, "so why should we believe you?"
"Urrgh," Not-Merlin groaned, flopping back against the tree trunk and glaring at them. "Gwen, when I said I was in disguise, I meant that I had magic, not that I was secretly an octogenarian!"
"I mean, if you're actually old," Elyan mused, "it would explain a lot."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Not-Merlin exclaimed, obviously affronted.
"The constant complaining, for one." Elyan shrugged. "The only person I've ever known who complained more than you was our grandfather when his arthritis acted up."
"And it, um…" Gwen paused, looking critically between his robes and his neckerchief, "...it would sort of explain your fashion sense, too."
"Oi!"
Gwaine added, "No wonder you get impatient with Arthur and don't care about the bowing and scraping. He's just an ornery whelp to you, isn't he?"
Not-Merlin spluttered. "But...but Gwen, you've met my mother!"
"She could've been your sister...or daughter?!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"I don't believe this," Not-Merlin whinged, burying his face in his bound hands. "Of all the ways I thought this could go wrong, this wasn't one of them."
"Can't say I expected this, either," Gwaine muttered. "Hey, do you actually have a daughter?"
"No!" came the muffled retort, followed by a resigned "I didn't want to do this all at once, but I guess I'll have to."
He looked up.
"Look, I can explain from the beginning, but I'm going to change back first. This ageing spell is exhausting."
His eyes flashed gold, and suddenly Not-Merlin looked like Merlin again.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Not-Merlin took a deep breath. "I'm the last Dragonlord," he said without further preamble.
Gwen stared. "Then whyever did you and Arthur have to go looking for one?!"
"Because I wasn't one yet. The gift is passed from father to son...when the father dies."
The dragonlord had died on the journey back to Camelot.
"He was your father?"
"Yes," Maybe-Merlin said softly. "Gaius helped Balinor flee Camelot during the Purge and sent him to Gaius' sister Hunith in Ealdor. That's how my parents met."
"Oh," Gwen said, "And when he...?"
"That's when I became the last of the Dragonlords."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Maybe-Merlin wasn't done with his tale, not by a long shot.
Gwaine whistled. "That's how you made it past the wyverns in the Perilous Lands?"
Maybe-Merlin gave an awkward half-shrug. "Um, yeah? Hadn't met a wyvern before; didn't know if it'd work until it did."
Elyan asked, "When were you two in the Perilous Lands?"
"Arthur's quest," Gwen said suddenly. "Arthur had set out 'alone and unaided,' but then you disappeared to 'the tavern' until he got back!"
Gwaine chuckled. "One of these days, you should actually go to a tavern. Much more fun than the Perilous Lands, believe me."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"All right," Gwen said to Probably-Merlin, "Suppose we believe you. How do you explain Dragoon?"
"Well, the first time I told Uther I was a sorcerer—"
"You did what!?" Gwaine yelped.
"—I only got out alive because Arthur made up a ridiculous excuse. So the second time you were accused of sorcery, I knew I had to come up with a better plan than just bursting into the council chambers and shouting at the king."
Probably-Merlin huffed a laugh.
"That was the first time I'd tried an ageing spell. The plan was working well until I got stuck like that."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen gaped at him. "You what?"
Almost-Certainly-Merlin scrunched up his face in a sheepish expression.
"When I couldn't get the counter-spell to work, Gaius had to bring me a potion to reverse it. That's why I didn't escape from the dungeons."
"Dragoon didn't slip past you at the execution," Elyan realised. "You transformed!"
"Fortunately, Gaius' portions work better than they taste," Real-Merlin added with a cheeky grin.
Gwen was moving before she'd even realised she'd made up her mind. Dropping the sword, she flung herself at Real-Merlin, wrapping him into a tight hug.
"Thank you for saving me," she murmured.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
There was a great deal of blubbering on both sides before Gwen pulled back at last, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
Real-Merlin—impossible Merlin—tried awkwardly to wipe his own puffy eyes on the neckerchief still tied tightly around his wrists.
"Here, let me," Gwen said as she started to reach to loosen the knots.
The look in Merlin's eyes made her pause mid-reach.
"What is it?" she asked.
He chewed his lip for a second before asking hesitantly, "Do you trust me?"
"I..." Gwen wrestled with dogmas and doubts and hope and impossible things. "I want to...but..."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
His expression crumpled. "But?"
"But it's hard to. It's, well, a lot—and all at once, too, and I just..."
"I understand," he said quickly. "That's why I want to show you something, if you'll let me?"
Gwen nodded, trying to be braver than she felt.
Merlin whispered, "Onbind."
The scarf around his wrists gracefully unknotted itself and hovered in the air between them.
"Cume mec," he added, eyes still the colour of Arthur's crown. The fluttering fabric draped itself around his neck in his usual fashion. He reached up and tied it as the gold faded from his eyes.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen understood immediately.
"You wouldn't have had to fight your way out; you could've just done this at any time. You could've, but you didn't."
He nodded emphatically. "I'm...I'm not evil, and I am trying to trust you," he said, a pleading edge to his words.
Camelot's laws make no exceptions, she realised. It won't matter that it's Merlin; Arthur'll be forced to execute him.
Not for treason—his loyalty was painfully clear—but for simply having magic.
Yet he let us bind him.
A question slipped out before she realised she already knew the answer.
"Does Arthur know?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The haunted look in his eyes was answer enough. Shoulders slumped, he shook his head dejectedly.
Gwaine sat down beside Merlin and slung a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Does anyone else—'sides Gaius—know?"
"Not really," Merlin said, toeing at a tuft of grass with his boot. "My mum, of course, and Kilgharrah, and...um, Lancelot knew."
There was a collective gasp.
Merlin quickly added, "He caught me doing magic when he first came to Camelot, but he kept my secret."
"He was a good man," Gwaine said gruffly, voicing aloud what Gwen was sure they were all thinking.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Who's Kilgharrah?" Elyan asked after a moment.
"Oh…" Merlin said, "Um, he's a dragon?"
"Okay, that's, uh..." Elyan pursed his lips, then nodded once and fell silent.
Apparently, her brother had decided he'd had more than enough new information to process for one day. Gwen couldn't blame him, honestly. She glanced up, suddenly aware of the trees casting long, slanting shadows around them. It was clear that Merlin had more stories and secrets to share than they could possibly hear in just one night.
"It's getting late," she said, "and we still have a couple hours' ride back to Camelot."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Merlin's eyes widened just a fraction. "What are you going to do?" He swallowed and added, "With me, I mean."
"Well," Gwaine said before Gwen could reply, "I'm going to take you to a tavern—for real—and you're going to buy me as many drinks as it takes for you to tell me all the exciting stuff I've missed out on, starting with your dragon."
"The tavern? In Camelot?"
"Unless there's a different one you prefer? Though I'm starting to get the impression you've rarely been in a tavern anywhere."
"So…you're, um, we're going back to Camelot tonight?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen heard the real questions underneath: Are you going to tell Arthur? Are you going to let me die?
"Merlin," Gwen said gently, taking his hands in hers. "We're all going home together...and we won't tell Arthur that you weren't in the tavern all along, not until you're ready."
Merlin's tight expression relaxed into a watery smile. He squeezed her hand before glancing around. "Then we'd best get going if we want to be out of the forest before dark."
They collected their grazing horses and prepared to return to Camelot with hearts much lighter than when they'd left.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As Gwen slid her foot into her stirrup and swung up into her saddle, she heard Gwaine lean over and ask Merlin a question in a very serious voice.
"You have a dragon?"
"Um, sort of? It's complicated."
"Ah, playing the mysterious Dragonlord card."
Gwen couldn't see Gwaine's impish grin, but she could hear it in his voice.
"Well done, mate, well done," he continued. "Y'know, mystery is very popular with the ladies."
As they rode home, Gwen let herself believe impossible things—about Merlin, about magic, and about a Camelot that was fair and just towards all its people.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It was late when they reached the citadel. Elyan offered to lead the horses to the stable, and Gwaine said he'd track down Leon and Percival to formally disband the Arthur Watch. He gave Gwen a genteel bow before addressing Merlin.
"Tavern. Tomorrow evening. Don't be late." He winked. "You owe me a lot of mead."
Gwen thought Merlin's grin could have lit up the whole courtyard.
"Nah," he replied, "I think we're even on the drinks—after all those boots I helped you polish, I mean."
Gwaine burst out laughing, ruffling Merlin's hair before striding away toward the castle.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen caught Elyan's eye before saying, "Merlin, would you mind walking me home?"
Elyan said goodnight and bowed out, leading the four horses after him. Gwen tucked her hand into the crook of Merlin's elbow.
"So," she said lightly as they ambled through the winding streets, "I learned a few interesting things this morning."
Merlin's eyebrows shot up in panic. "Here?" he hissed, glancing around for possible eavesdroppers.
She smiled and patted his arm reassuringly as she continued, "Did you know that every single kitchen maid is pining over you?"
"They're what?" he sputtered, turning endearingly pink in the moonlight.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen stepped into Gaius' chambers the next morning just as Gaius extracted the last fomorrah remnant.
"Is it gone?" she asked, wanting confirmation despite knowing the answer. Her nerves were still recovering from the ordeal.
"Yep! I've no desire to kill Arthur!" Merlin announced brightly.
"I'm glad," she said, hoping the warm, simple words conveyed everything she meant.
She added as an afterthought, "Though I'm afraid right now Arthur does want to kill you."
Gaius' eyebrows raced for his hairline.
"Oh, no, not like that!" she told Merlin quickly, "It's just, um, he still thinks you were in the tavern."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Where's Merlin?" Gwen asked Arthur when she bumped into him in the corridors later that morning.
"Merlin is with George," Arthur replied with a slight huff, "learning how to be a proper servant. Apparently, today's lesson will include extensive polishing...and brass jokes."
Gwen felt just a little bit sorry for Merlin. I guess Arthur didn't care for George's sense of humour after all…
"In that case," she said, "would you like me to bring you lunch?"
Arthur took her hand, raising it to his lips in a brief kiss. "Only if you'll stay and share it with me, Guinevere."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The following evening, Merlin sat at Gwen's table after supper, drinking tea and whinging about George's lessons.
"There cannot seriously be a right and wrong way to fold Arthur's socks!"
After polishing every single polishable item and surface in Arthur's chambers yesterday, George had apparently moved on to Lesson Two today: Folding.
"He made me practice, Gwen," Merlin moaned. "I don't deserve this! Now I wish I'd actually gone to the tavern to begin with!"
"But you did go! Yesterday, with Gwaine," she teased.
"And I had the hangover this morning to prove it," he grumbled half-heartedly into his tea.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The next night, Gwaine dragged Merlin back to the tavern. The night after that, Merlin was back at Gwen's for supper.
Those first few nights were the hardest.
When he told her about the Questing Beast, about offering a life for a life, she'd shouted at him until she was certain he understood that he wasn't disposable, no matter whose life was at stake.
When he told her about Morgana and the hemlock, she'd slapped him. After they'd wept until their tears ran dry, they'd sat in heavy silence late into the night: a vigil for the friend they'd lost.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The pattern continued for two weeks.
Every other night, Gwaine dragged Merlin to the tavern for stories and ale, or to Gwaine's chambers for tales and mead with the Round Table knights. Other nights, Merlin went round to Gwen's for supper, or Gwen came to Gaius' chambers to hear more from both of them about secrets, magic, and destiny. Merlin survived his 'training' week with George, and things between Merlin and Arthur fell back into their comfortable, insult-laced dynamic.
Gwen increasingly marvelled at Merlin's bravery to talk back to the man who unwittingly held Merlin's very life in his hands.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As the days passed, though, Gwen saw the weight slowly lifting from Merlin's shoulders with each story he told and each affirmation he received from Gwen, Gwaine, and the rest of the Round Table knights.
It was only then that she realised how much Merlin had changed since he'd come to Camelot—just how much of a toll his secrets had taken. He hadn't simply grown up; he'd grown old with secrets. Watching him shed the layers of lies was like watching him age backwards.
Meanwhile, the longer she kept Merlin's secret, the harder it became to lie to Arthur.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Arthur's being an insecure dollop head," Merlin announced one evening as he burst through her doorway. "He was all worried today that maybe you don't like him anymore."
Oh, no.
"...Gwen?" he asked, obviously concerned by the expression on her face. "What's wrong?"
"I was hoping he hadn't noticed, but—"
"Wait, was he right?!"
"No! No, I love him!" she clarified quickly. "And that's sort of the problem, actually."
"What?" Merlin scrunched up his nose in confusion.
"It's just...I don't know how you've managed it!" she blurted.
"Managed what?"
"Being around Arthur all day while keeping secrets from him."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Oh," Merlin said faintly, sitting down on the bench at Gwen's table.
"It's just that I've only been doing this for two weeks, and already I've...sort of...started avoiding him," Gwen admitted, sitting down across from him.
She fiddled with the cutlery she'd laid out for supper before speaking again.
"It wasn't on purpose—not at first—and I'd hoped he hadn't noticed."
Merlin sighed. "He noticed. Sorry."
"Why are you apologising?"
"Because it's my fault; I put you in this position."
"Please don't apologise. I can't imagine what it's been like to live your whole life like that."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Merlin shrugged. "It's...not fun...but it's better than being dead or banished."
"Do you think you'll ever tell him?"
"I want to. I just don't know how to, or when he'll be ready to hear it."
She covered his hand with hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Then I'll figure out how to manage until you're ready," she said resolutely, "and I'll invite him 'round for supper tomorrow; help set his mind at ease."
"Thanks," he said, "for everything."
"Merlin," she said gently, waiting until he met her gaze, "I am honoured that you've shared your secrets with me."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen continued, "And I'm sure the truth will be a shock for him like it was for me, but I also believe he'll accept you."
Gwen knew Merlin struggled to believe such an impossible thing, no matter how much he hoped for it. She was happy to reassure Merlin as often as he needed.
"Thanks," he said, and just a bit more hope flared in his eyes—and maybe a hint of gold along with it.
Gwen looked forward to the day when Arthur would get to see that gold, too.
Until then, she thought, at least Merlin has us.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Then Gaius disappeared. Arthur was suspicious, Agravaine was shifty, and Merlin was understandably distraught. He was convinced Agravaine planted the magic texts to frame Gaius, and he was equally certain Gaius hadn't vanished into the night of his own accord.
Gwen and the knights of the Round Table were inclined to agree with him.
After Gwaine identified the iron ore in the clay Merlin had scraped from Agravaine's boot, they set out for the mines, taking Leon and Percival with them. Elyan and Gwen stayed behind, taking turns subtly speaking reason to Arthur and trying to counteract Agravaine's manipulative influence.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Leon and Percival caught Agravaine red-handed with a knife to Gaius' throat. Alator saved Gwaine and Merlin from Morgana's attack and told them he would protect Merlin's secret.
When they arrived back in Camelot, Gaius was quickly carried to his infirmary and, on the word of two knight-witnesses, Agravaine was promptly dragged to the dungeons.
Gwen hated to see Arthur's heart broken again by betrayal. She sat with him in his chambers, offering quiet comfort as he finally let down his walls and allowed himself to grieve.
Soon, Leon came to let them know that Gaius was stable and awake.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen held Arthur's hand as they walked to Gaius' chambers. She could feel the tension in his fingers and see the slight slump of his shoulders: subtle hints that Arthur was barely holding it together.
I don't blame him, frankly.
She'd barely held it together herself when she'd feared mere weeks ago that Merlin had betrayed them, and she knew all too well that she'd been a mess privately for weeks after Morgana's betrayals came to light.
She gave his hand a slight squeeze, just to say I know it hurts and I love you and You are not alone.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Because Arthur was a good man and a good king, he'd wanted to do the right thing and apologise to Gaius and Merlin immediately. It didn't mean he was especially good at the actual apologising part, though.
Gwen waited in the corridor just outside Gaius' rooms and listened as Arthur attempted, rather poorly, to set things right with Merlin.
Still, Merlin's shoulders weren't quite as tight as they'd been since Gaius had disappeared, nor his mouth as pinched, by the time he joined Gwen in the hall so that Arthur could speak privately with Gaius.
Apology accepted, then, she concluded.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Guinevere?" Arthur asked her, out of the blue, a few days later as she sat at his table reviewing supply inventories. "Do you think it's possible that—"
He broke off abruptly and ran a hand through his hair.
"Arthur? What is it?" she asked, not wanting to push but still hoping he'd give himself permission to say whatever it was he couldn't quite bring himself to say.
He took a deep breath.
"Gaius told me…he, uh, said things that I don't know how to…"
"What sort of things?"
"That the old sorcerer had been trying to save my father."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"And what do you think?" Gwen asked carefully, not quite daring to hope.
"I think it can't be true."
Her heart sank.
"But," he continued, "I don't trust myself, not now, after Morgana and Agravaine. I doubted Gaius, and look how that turned out."
He laughed bitterly.
"Gaius nearly died because I couldn't tell the difference between the truth and a lie."
"But he didn't," Gwen pointed out, helping him ground his thoughts instead of spiralling. "No man—no king—is meant to rely on his judgment alone; that's why you have advisors."
"But how can I know they're trustworthy?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Let me try this a different way…
"Do you trust Leon?"
Arthur looked almost affronted. "Of course!"
"Why?"
"Because…" His expression faltered.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean you shouldn't! I just wanted to hear reasons."
"Oh," he said, dropping down into the chair next to hers, "Right. Um, reasons."
He thought for a long moment, picking at a dent in the table—Merlin must have dropped a platter again—before answering.
"Leon's...always been there. He's faced insurmountable odds with me more times than I can count, without any regard for his own safety—like riding out against the dragon."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"And what about Gwaine?" Gwen asked next.
Arthur huffed a short laugh. "My father thought I'd gone mad the first time I trusted him—that first time I wanted to weigh Gwaine's testimony against a nobleman's."
"So," Gwen pushed gently, "why did you trust him? Why do you continue to trust him?"
"Because he saved my life…and then kept saving it, actually."
"The tavern, then the melee?"
"Yes," he said, glancing down at the table dent as he added, "and in the Perilous Lands, too. Him and Merlin."
Gwen had to remind herself to act surprised at that admission.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After nodding along at all the right places and trying to hide her amusement at the differences between Arthur's version of the tale and the version she'd heard from Merlin and Gwaine, she asked another question. Her heart beat faster even though she knew the answer.
"Do you trust Merlin?"
"Yes, I do. My father never understood that, either."
Maybe he did, eventually, she thought, remembering what Merlin had said about a strange, brief chat with the late king in the armoury.
"Why do you trust Merlin?"
"Because he tells me the truth."
Oh, she thought, heart sinking. Oh, no.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"He tells me the truth," Arthur continued, "even when it's not what I want to hear. Especially when it's not what I want to hear."
Oh.
"And he's not afraid of me."
Oh.
"Not even when he should be, frankly." He swallowed hard. "Not even when I threatened him for speaking up in Gaius' defence."
"You what?"
Merlin had not told her that part. She was going to have words with him, with both of them.
Arthur looked away. "I believed Agravaine's word over Merlin's, even after everything we…I trusted Agravaine, but Agravaine never faced a dragon with me."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"So..." Gwen said, bringing the conversation full-circle, "you have reasons for trusting each of the people you trust. What was your reason with Agravaine?"
"He…he was my mother's brother. He was family…but he didn't act like it." Arthur rubbed his temples. "Or maybe veiled disappointment and betrayal are just what families are like."
"Agravaine was wrong to try to exploit your losses," she said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You are a good judge of character. It's to your credit that you've gathered advisors who love you, who'll fight alongside you and give you honest advice."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
They sat in pensive silence for a long moment.
"What do I do about Gaius? About what he said?" Arthur asked at last.
"Do you trust him?"
"I feel like I shouldn't when he says things like that. He all but said that magic wasn't evil; that sorcerers could be honourable."
"Well," she said, chewing her lip, "for what it's worth, I think enduring torture for Camelot's sake seems like a rather trustworthy thing."
"...Yeah," he breathed, "It really sort of does."
"So what will you do?"
"I think…I should hear what he has to say once he's recovered."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"No." Merlin backed away from her, looking a bit like a cornered mouse as his back hit her door. "No, Gwen, I can't. What if he hates me? Or banishes me, or—"
"I don't think he will, though," she said, "Not after the conversation he had with Gaius."
"But…but how could he not? It's not just the magic; it's the lying, too. You know what he's been like since Agravaine."
"He'll probably be angry at first, but your actions have proven your loyalty over and over again. Plus, you have me and the knights to back you up now."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen and the knights sat scattered around the forge the following evening, listening attentively to Merlin.
"I, um," Merlin said slowly, "I want to tell Arthur—soon, I mean—but I'm not sure how."
Gwen squeezed his hand before he continued, "And I'd really like to not be dead or banished by the time the conversation's over. Obviously."
"If Arthur tries, he'll have to go through me," Gwaine declared without hesitation.
"Yes, of course," Gwen interjected, "but we'd all prefer if it didn't come to that."
"True," Gwaine agreed easily, "but if Merlin gets banished, then I'm going with him."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
They brainstormed late into the night. Gwen moderated, trying to maintain the delicate balance between Merlin feeling supported and Merlin feeling pressured and overwhelmed. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, they settled on a plan.
Merlin lingered after the knights had left.
"Do you really think this'll work, Gwen?" His voice was so small, so raw, that her heart ached to hear it.
"I do," she replied.
"But it just feels so…so…impossible."
"A month ago, I thought good sorcerers were impossible," she countered with a soft smile. "Maybe it'll turn out that we were both wrong."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The following afternoon, Gwen tapped on the door to Arthur's chambers. Arthur answered the door himself because—as Gwen and Merlin had prearranged—Merlin was off polishing Arthur's armour for the next hour or so.
Arthur grinned broadly and beckoned her inside. "Guinevere! What a pleasant surprise! Come in!"
"Oh, I'm afraid I can't stay," Gwen said, shrugging the laundry basket higher on her hip. "I just wanted to say hello. And to invite you for supper. Again. Um, if you'd like, I mean."
"I would be delighted," he said, stepping close and brushing a stray curl behind her ear.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Thank you, Guinevere; supper was delicious," Arthur said as she cleared their plates.
She set the dishes on the end of the sideboard nearest the window, then took a deep breath before turning to face him again.
"Arthur," she said, "There's something I need to tell you."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine...I just, uh, owe you an apology. I...kept something from you that I shouldn't have."
The concern in Arthur's eyes shifted to guarded fear.
"What do you mean?"
"When Merlin went missing after the ambush, he…he wasn't himself when he came home."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Arthur gave her a funny look. "Yes, I think we all noticed he was out of sorts, at least until he went on that bender to sort himself out."
"Until he—? You think Merlin went to the tavern to drink through his feelings?"
"Why else would he do that?" Arthur asked.
His nose scrunched in confusion when Gwen didn't answer.
"If he were a proper, normal sort of alcoholic," Arthur elaborated, "I'd expect him to have Gwaine's predictable drinking habits. Drinking near-daily, I mean. But Merlin hardly drinks at all, save for when he disappears for days at a time."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen stared at Arthur, completely distracted from what she'd meant to say. Arthur apparently took her silence as a request for further clarification.
"It's just, well, I'm with Merlin all the time. If he were sneaking a flask everywhere—like Gwaine does—then I'd know. But he doesn't. And he usually looks stressed out or miserable just before he disappears to the tavern."
Gwen was embarrassed to admit she was surprised at how perceptive Arthur was...and yet how far he'd missed the mark with this.
Given what Merlin's endured, though, it's a wonder it hasn't driven him to drink.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"It's not about the tavern," she managed at last. "Or, it is, sort of—but not in the way you think."
"If it's not about Merlin, then what is it?"
"No, it is about Merlin," she said, but Arthur didn't follow.
"But you said it wasn't about the tavern—"
Gwen interrupted him. "Merlin wasn't in the tavern!"
"...Wait, what?"
Oh, no, Gwen thought, as Arthur's expression slowly shifted from confused to guarded. This isn't how I meant for this to go.
She cleared her throat. "Let me try this again from the beginning: Merlin wasn't himself...because he'd been enchanted."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Enchanted?!" Arthur exclaimed.
"He's not enchanted anymore," Gwen clarified quickly, "and Gaius got it all sorted, but I should have told you about it when we first figured it out."
Hurt crept into Arthur's eyes. "Why didn't you?"
"I...I don't know. Well, I do know, but it's complicated. At first, I didn't tell you because Gaius hadn't told you, but then later…" Gwen curtailed her spiralling answer. "Um, the point is: I'm sorry. I should have told you. And I'm telling you now because I want to make things right."
Arthur looked at her appraisingly for a long moment.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Is he thinking about our recent conversation about trust? Gwen wondered as the silence stretched.
Was Arthur reconsidering whether he could trust her?
"So what happened?" he asked eventually. "To Merlin, I mean."
"He'd, um, been kidnapped and had a fomorrah—it's a snake that controls minds—stuck in his neck. So Merlin was trying to kill you, but it wasn't really Merlin."
"...I honestly can't decide which part of that is the most disturbing."
"Anyway, Gaius cut the snake out of his neck, and we thought Merlin was all right again...until he wasn't, because the fomorrah grew back."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"It what!?"Arthur exclaimed.
Gwen forged ahead. "Then Gaius paralysed it—so Merlin's mind was his own again—and, um, that's when Merlin went to the tavern."
"With a mind-controlling snake in his neck."
"Yes."
"And is it still in his neck?" Arthur asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No," she confirmed, "No, it's not."
"Did it 'grow back' again?"
"No," she said, taking another deep breath as relief flickered across his face. "But I think this next bit's actually the part you're not going to be happy about."
"Because the rest was so very delightful, obviously," Arthur muttered.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen hesitated, then reached to clasp Arthur's hands.
"Arthur, I want you to know that Merlin didn't willingly tell me this. I found out. He'd never told anyone before. Promise me you'll remember that? Please?"
"Gwen, what are you talking about?"
"It's...it's not my secret to tell, so I waited until he was ready to tell you."
"Ready to tell me what? That he has a drinking problem? That he'd been kidnapped, or enchanted, or—"
A soft, determined knock at the door interrupted him.
"Come in," Gwen called.
The door opened, and Dragoon the Great stepped inside.
"Hello, Arthur."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Guinevere." Arthur's voice was dangerously calm. "What is he doing here?"
Gwen didn't pull away; Merlin was counting on her.
"He's here because he's the one who destroyed the fomorrah so it couldn't grow back."
"You believe him? How do you know he wasn't the one who put it in Merlin's neck to begin with?"
"Because," Dragoon answered with a hint of a rueful smile, "while I do have an unfortunate talent for self-sabotage, I still wouldn't go that far."
Dragoon shrugged off his long robe to reveal Merlin's usual attire. His eyes flashed gold, and the years melted away.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
For what felt like an eternity, Arthur stared at Merlin in stunned silence.
"I…I don't understand," Arthur breathed, still clutching Gwen's hands tightly. "You don't, you can't—"
Merlin bit his lip and shrugged, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Arthur turned wide, pleading eyes to Gwen.
"Please tell me this doesn't mean what I think it means."
Gwen squeezed his hands gently. "I think you and Merlin have a lot to talk about."
"Merlin has…?"
"Yes," Merlin answered, voice catching, "Yes, I have magic, and I use it for you, Arthur, to serve and protect you."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen gave Arthur's hand another reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "Merlin's telling you this, not because he has to, but because he wants to."
Merlin nodded emphatically.
Gwen continued, "I'm simply offering my home as neutral ground."
She reached to pull her shawl off the hook by the door, glancing cautiously between them.
"I'm going out for a while. You two can talk here for as long as you need, and, um..."
She fished about for a suitable ending.
"Just, um, try not to break anything you don't plan on replacing, all right?"
Then Gwen slipped quietly out the door.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen ducked into the adjoining forge, where the knights of the Round Table were waiting for her.
"Well?" Elyan asked when she entered. "We didn't hear any shouting, so…?"
"Do I need to pack?" Gwaine interjected.
"No," she replied, "At least, I don't think so."
With a pleased nod, Gwaine settled back on a bench.
"Arthur hasn't called for the guards yet," Leon observed, "so that's probably a good sign."
Gwen nodded. "Thank you all for being here, just in case he had; it would help keep things from escalating further if you all were the first on the scene."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Y'know," Gwaine said abruptly, "if Arthur doesn't marry you, I would. You're a brilliant strategist, my lady."
Gwen spluttered; the sudden fire in her cheeks wasn't from the heat of the forge. She wasn't entirely sure, though, if it was from Gwaine's odd compliment or from the idea of marrying Arthur. She hoped, secretly, but most days the very idea still felt impossible, like one day he might suddenly realise he didn't want a commoner like Gwen for his queen.
Out of all the princesses and ladies in Albion to choose from, would he really ask me to marry him?
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Gwaine," Elyan chided.
Gwaine shrugged, utterly shameless.
Elyan added, "He's got a point, though. You've been amazing, Gwen."
The other knights nodded enthusiastically.
Gwen let herself believe in that impossible thing just a little more than she had before, until a crash next door startled her out of her thoughts.
"Oh, dear."
"Was that a jar?" Percival wondered aloud.
Gwaine huffed a soft laugh. "Emphasis on the 'was,' from the sound of it."
Gwen sighed as she sat down beside Elyan and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I told them not to break anything they didn't plan to replace."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Over the next two hours, there was a fair amount of yelling—along with a few more crashes—but no shouts for guards to arrest anyone. Eventually, the yelling tapered off. Just to be safe, Gwen and the knights waited in the forge for another hour.
"All right," she said, a good three hours after she'd left Merlin and Arthur to hash things out, "I'm going to go back and check on them."
The knights nodded their assent.
Elyan stood and gave her a hug. "We'll stay another half-hour; shout if you need us."
"Thank you," Gwen said, "for everything."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen knocked lightly on her door. "Arthur? Merlin? Can I come in now?"
"It's Gwen! Gwen's back!" The happiness in Merlin's voice settled her fears.
I'll take that as a yes, then.
She pushed the door open just a crack and peeked inside. The scene warmed her heart more than the fire that now glowed brightly in her hearth. Arthur and Merlin were sprawled in front of the fire, comfortable and loose-limbed, with a couple of empty bottles scattered on the ground between them.
Smiling, she opened the door—only to hear a crunching sound as it caught on something.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
She glanced down to see what the door had gotten caught on. Her heart sank as she surveyed the shards at her feet.
"That was my favourite pot," she mourned.
Inexplicably, both Arthur and Merlin started giggling helplessly at her lament.
"Favourite pot," Arthur snorted to Merlin. "But it wasn't!"
"You should have seen your face!" Merlin told him with a gleeful snicker.
"Boys!" Gwen interjected, then glanced at the bottles. "Are you...drunk?"
"Yes, I rather think so," Arthur informed her very seriously. "Join us! We have more…" He picked up an empty bottle. "...or Merlin can make more."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Arthur gallantly handed her the empty bottle, which promptly filled itself with mead as Merlin waved his hand loosely at it.
"Thank you, Merlin," she said, sitting down beside Arthur. "If you can conjure mead, please tell me you can repair my favourite pot, too?"
"Sorry about your pot, Gwen." Merlin shrugged sheepishly. "I'll find a spell to fix it...or I'll make one up if I have to!"
Gwen smiled as Arthur pulled her close, one arm wrapped comfortably around her waist.
He kissed her cheek and said, "Merlin was just about to tell another story."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Eleven stories later, Merlin added, "And you were in trouble, so I sent that blue light."
"Now you're just talking rubbish, Merlin. That's impossible! You were literally unconscious. You honestly expect me to believe that?"
Merlin merely raised an eyebrow.
Arthur looked to Gwen. "Seriously?"
"I'm learning that impossible is a daily occurrence with him," Gwen said, shaking her head fondly.
"Yes," Merlin agreed, nodding enthusiastically, "I think you may need to practice believing impossible things. Start with half an hour a day—"
"—and work up from there," Gwen teased. "Why, just today I believed six impossible things before breakfast!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Merlin's eyes turned serious, reflecting the flames like an echo of his magic. "She's right, though. I spent years thinking that this—"
He gestured broadly to encompass the three of them, sitting in the cosy light of the magical flames in the hearth, with the whole truth and a few half-empty bottles of mead between them.
"—was impossible, until Gwen made me practice believing."
"I'm glad she did," Arthur said with a smile, then reached over to give Merlin a playful nudge. "So what now? Just lift the ban on magic, create a 'golden age,' and live happily ever after?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Hmm..."
Merlin tilted his head as though thinking very hard about Arthur's question, but he couldn't contain his blinding grin. It lit up the room more brightly than the fire.
"Sounds impossible," Merlin concluded cheerfully, "but I'm willing to practice believing it if you will."
"Impossible," Arthur agreed very seriously, then added with a cheeky smile, "Let's start with half an hour a day and work up, shall we?"
As her boys laughed freely, Gwen snuggled close against Arthur's side in quiet contentment.
No, she thought, watching them with a soft smile, that future doesn't sound so impossible after all.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Epilogue
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Gwen's favourite pot wasn't the only piece of crockery broken in Camelot during subsequent months as Merlin slowly shared more and more details of his past—the good, the bad, and the ugly. He did, however, manage to invent a spell to repair them.
Along with mended pots, Merlin and Arthur mended bridges between them and—quietly, steadily, half-an-hour-of-practice-a-day—between the crown and the persecuted.
When Morgana next attacked, the king and Emrys fought side by side.
After all, a sword is just a sword, Gwen thought, as Arthur and Merlin showed Camelot what noble deeds and hearts looked like.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
When Hunith arrived in Camelot for the ceremony where Arthur would appoint Merlin as Court Sorcerer, Gwen was waiting. Hitching up her skirts and queenly dignity, Gwen sprinted across the courtyard, nearly bowling Hunith over with the force of her hug.
Before Hunith could even say hello, Gwen found herself babbling, "Oh my goodness, how did you survive Merlin's childhood?! He and Arthur are driving me batty! Last week, they brought home a baby dragon! Teach me your secrets, please!"
"Don't worry, dear," Hunith said with a bemused, long-suffering sigh, patting Gwen's back consolingly. "You get used to it...eventually."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Every morning for the next sixty years, Gwen believed six impossible things before breakfast and found they weren't really so impossible after all:
1-Good sorcerers could exist, just like good kings (and good queens).
2-Magic isn't good or evil (it just is).
3-Merlin has magic (and can shape-shift, among other things).
4-Arthur would one day accept Merlin and his magic (and he did).
5-Arthur would ask Gwen to be his queen (and when he did, she said yes).
6-Together, they could all build a golden age for Camelot that would live long in the minds of men (and they did).
~The End~
A/N:
In conclusion: Gwen rocks. ;)
If you enjoyed this convoluted little fic and want to completely make my day, I'd be SO excited if you'd tell me which vignette or plot twist was your favorite. :) Also, happy Easter to anyone who celebrates it! (I got to go to an in-person (outdoor) service this morning for the first time in over a year, and it was wonderful.)
A brief anecdote from December 2020 regarding how this fic came about (compiled in drabble form because it's practically a compulsion now).
My brain: You know what would be really cool? If we—
Me to my brain: No. Just, just stop right there.
My brain: —if we wrote a fic constructed entirely of drabbles.
Me: But...we already have several other neglected WIPs...
My brain: Aww, come on! It'll be short and easy! Just a linear fic in third-person limited POV with an ensemble cast, multiple scene locations, and PLOT TWISTS! Told entirely in 100-word vignettes! And with Alice in Wonderland references woven throughout!
Me: I mean, that sounds kinda cool, but...
My brain: DO IT
*123 consecutive drabbles later*
Me: whyyyyyyyyyyyy