Disclaimer: IDOM

Hey there, guys! Thank you again so much for all the reviews. I'm loving each and every one of them. Some of you are very close to what happened, but I'm not saying who or what they guessed. Sorry! In answer to another review, this takes place about mid-season 4. I love Gwaine-centric fics too. I agree that he doesn't get enough credit. A lot of people just portray him as the drunk clown but there's so much more to him. And I love him. So much. So this is for him. :)

I hope you guys like this chapter! We're getting close now...

The knight jogged more than walked towards the physician's chambers. The thrill about finding just a scrap of information still rushed through him. Now that he knew more about the young man, maybe he'd be able to find out even more.

Then, at the same time, if he truly was Arthur's servant, why didn't the king remember him? Merlin had called him his first name, implying some form of friendship between the two of them. And if the young man had been a servant and had been calling his master, the king, by his first name... They must have been close at some point. So, the golden question remained: What happened?

He entered Gaius' chambers without knock and found the elder readying his medicine case for his rounds. The knight had always liked the physician. His care knew no bounds, and oftentimes, he would stay up well into the knight to make sure the citizens of Camelot were cared for properly. He was a great advisor to Arthur and had helped him through many trials since Uther had passed. He was invaluable to Camelot, and Gwaine himself saw him as a good friend.

"Ah, Gwaine," he greeted, smiling. "What brings you to my side of the castle?"

"Just a little headache," he explained. "Arthur wanted me to get it checked out."

Gwaine sat down at the table and looked around the room. Stacks and stacks of books, medical and not, were piled high onto the table, the entire room was littered with vials of strange colors. He didn't like to imagine what Gaius put in all of them. He'd heard horror stories about some of the things the physician put into his concoctions, and oftentimes, Gaius wouldn't even reveal the ingredients.

"Toad's tongue, sheep's stomach, and just a dash of algae," Merlin's voice supplied.

...but then something in his peripheral vision made him pause.

He looked to his right and saw a door. That's all it was. Just a door. But Gwaine couldn't take his eyes off of it, nor stop the itching in the back of his mind.

Gwaine didn't realize that Gaius had been talking to him until he interrupted him. "What's behind there?"

The physician glanced at it before furrowing his brow and looking at Gwaine, as though confused.. "Just a spare room. I occasionally use it to house patients who need more attention. You've stayed in there once or twice, if you remember. Now, here." He handed him a sickly green colored vial. "This will help you rest a bit. I must be off. Come back if your head doesn't improve."

"Thanks, Gaius," he said sincerely. He waited until the physician had left the room before slipping the vial into his pocket and jumping up towards the 'spare' room. Except it wasn't meant to be that way, Gwaine knew. His fuzzy memory did recall him staying there the first time he'd been in Camelot. He'd helped Arthur in a nasty bar fight and had ended up getting stabbed in the leg. Gaius had had to keep a strict watch to make sure it didn't become infected. But while he remembered staying there, there was something wrong with his memory of the 'spare room.'

His own voice echoed in his head as he slowly climbed the stairs. "Ah, royals. Never happy."

Merlin's laughter, plain as day, responded.

He had thought that the young man and Gaius went together somehow. This was just another piece of the puzzle. Gwaine spread his fingers on the door and pushed it open. It was plain. Single bed in the middle of the room, made neatly. Dust glittered in the sunlight coming in from the window. Despite the room obviously being unoccupied, however, it still smelled like him. Books and herbs and something unique.

Magic.

So preoccupied had he been in simply finding out who the young man was, he had nearly forgotten about the magic.

Merlin had magic.

Gwaine dropped down on the bed, head spinning. Merlin had magic. He truly didn't know whether to laugh or yell. And he didn't know why it cause such a strong reaction in him anyway. Before Camelot, he'd seen lots of magic in his travels. Good and bad. He didn't really think magic was bad, it just depended on who wielded it. So why did the young man's magic bother him so much?

Something below him drew his attention. It was just a scrap of red cloth hiding beneath the bed frame, but everything in Gwaine screamed at him. With delicate fingers, he picked up the cloth and spread it out on the bed.

Merlin's neckerchief.

"Gotcha," he smiled.

Merlin was a servant. He'd lived with Gaius. He had magic. None of them had known about the magic.

"He's bloody confusing," Gwaine groaned as he listed off what he knew so far. His head ached, but he hadn't the motivation to take the drought Gaius had given him. Too many thoughts were buzzing in his head for him to rest.

He loved blackberries. He loved the smell of the air after it rained. He loved to sit on the battlements and watch the sun set.

He was gentle, kind, compassionate. He hated seeing others suffer.

Somehow, these facts were even more important to him. It made him more real. It gave him a personality. That, and the neckerchief that Gwaine had balled in his pocket, helped ground the knight in reality. Well, whatever confusing reality he was in.

He needed to find out more. This time, however, he was going to do it alone. With magic involved, he didn't think it wise to include others. Frankly, he didn't know what would happen if Arthur found out. Or the other knights. He was fully aware of their history with magic and somewhat aware of their history with Merlin. And though they had all been friends, he didn't feel comfortable involving the others.

So he would do this on his own.

He needed to talk to Arthur to figure out the plan. He needed to find the man stalking the walls because he was sure that that was the man who stabbed Merlin. God, he needed to find Merlin.

Panic coursed through him again and he clenched his jaw, tightening his first. Merlin had better be okay. He'd lived with the best physician in all of Camelot. Surely he'd learned something to help him. Probably not though.

He'd just better be okay.

The knight felt more helpless than he cared to admit. Self-loathing flowed through him. His friend was hurt, alone, and literally no one but himself knew about it. He hated it. Or remembered him. He should ask Gaius about magic. Ask him if there was a spell that could make them all forget. He should ask Arthur about his last manservant. He should ask some of the other servants if they'd known him.

Right?

Gwaine didn't know. His head hurt, his stomach was rolling, and his heart ached. He found himself in front of his chambers before he knew where he was going. The knight shoved his way through the door and ripped off his sword belt, throwing it aside before he literally fell onto his bed. And despite the midday sunlight streaming in through the window, he was unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Merlin's blithe laugh echoed in his dreams.

Gwaine woke up to screaming.

At first, he thought he'd dreamed it, so he shoved it to the back of his mind.

Then there was another scream.

The knight's eyes flew open and he pushed himself off the bed. He snatched his sword off the ground and rushed out the door. There was another shout; it was coming from down the hall. Swords clashed. The sounds of fighting. More yelling. Smoke crawled from around the corner. Gwaine narrowed his eyes and pressed himself against the wall, clutching his sword in his hands. Footsteps came closer and closer. He reaffirmed his grip and took a deep breath.

Gwaine jumped out from behind the wall, swinging his weapon with all his might.

Metal clashed with metal as Leon jumped away from his friend. "Gwaine!"

The knight pulled back and dropped his weapon, gasping. He fell against the wall and clutched his chest. Leon. It was Leon. He blinked; the smoke was gone. The yelling had ceased. The next thing he knew he was sitting on the ground, dry heaving.

"Gwaine!" The other knight dropped down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Gwaine, what happened?"

Had he dreamed it? Hallucinated it? Imagined it?

"I..."

Leon pulled him forward and wrapped an arm around him, taking his weight onto him as the younger knight rambled. His eyes wouldn't focus and his breathing was laboured. Gwaine couldn't think straight. He felt more than heard Leon's words.

"Let's get you to Gaius'."