It had been the little things, little slip ups which had made Gwaine notice to begin with. Alright, maybe not a little slip up, but no one else noticed it, so it must have been pretty minor, right?

Lancelot, Gwaine had noticed, was slipping. Literally and figuratively. Usually, the other knight provided much more of a challenge in swordfighting, but that day, it was like Lance wasn't even home. Of course, Gwaine would have chalked it up to the alarming growth of Lancelot's eye bags, except the man had snapped at Merlin, Merlin for Camelot's sake! The two of them were as thick as thieves, and besides, Lancelot had never snapped at Merlin before when he was tired. So, Gwaine surmised, something must be going on. And he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He also knew the perfect way to get the knight to loosen up as well.

A knight in the tavern.

That was how Gwaine ended up here, watching as Lancelot, who usually only had one or two meads on the rare occasions he came to the tavern, already downing his second tankard of the night.

Mildly concerned, Gwaine took a small sip of his own, before placing it next to him. Just because Gwaine may like to get drunk, didn't mean he didn't know when to be the sober one. It would appear that this was going to be one of those times.

So he sat, and he waited, which, thankfully, wasn't too long after Lancelot downed his third tankard, considerably slower than the last two. Gwaine ordered him another one, which Lancelot took to sipping at his usual pace. Then he started talking.

At first it's incomprehensible gibberish, although Gwaine manages to catch Merlin's name within it.

"...just wish he would learn how to protect himself, you know? I mean, I know he can protect himself 'nd all, ya know, with his… his," Lancelot squints slightly at Gwaine, glaring, nay, scrutinising him. "Wai' a minute. You, you don' know. Shouldn' tell you."

Gwaine blinked, leaning further back in his chair, watching Lancelot as the man started his fourth tankard that night. So. Whatever this was, it had something to do with Merlin, and… a secret? Something that only Lancelot knew about Merlin.

Gwaine's heart clenched with jealousy. He had always known that Lancelot and Merlin were close, closer than most, but yet it still hurt to know that the man whom he considered his best friend still didn't think he could trust Gwaine with everything that he was hiding.

Gwaine shook his head, pushing those feelings down. It was a good thing that Merlin had Lancelot to confide in. By the sounds of it, the plucky servant was getting himself into trouble, and would need all the help he could get.

"Although Merlin doesn't think I notice, bu' I do. I see it. I see i'. And i' hurts, you know, Gwaine. I' hurts 'cause I can' do anything 'bout it. I can' stop people from saying all those mean things, 'cause they don', they wouldn' understand, if they knew, if they knew, they wouldn' see Merlin in the same light. An' it hurts. 'Cause I want Merlin to be happy, to be able to use his magic withou' fear of his life, an'... an'..."

Gwaine choked on his mead.

No.

No.

It couldn't be true, could it?

But then… a lot more would make sense. If a sorcerer was added into the equation, someone who could go toe to toe against Morgana, could protect them all from magic, then… well, it made too much sense then, didn't it?

Shaking his head, Gwaine turned his attention back to the drunk knight, who was now spouting all of the times Merlin had saved Camelot. Gwaine winced, flickering his gaze round to the other patrons of the tavern, but as of yet, none of them had noticed or were listening to their conversation. Good.

Swiftly, Gwaine snatched Lancelot's tankard away from him before he could take another sip, setting it down on the opposite side of the table. The knight didn't notice. Gwaine flicked a couple of silver coins on the table, setting down his own tankard as well. It was time to get Lancelot out of here.

"Come on mate," he said, grunting as he hoisted Lancelot's arm around his shoulder, effectively holding the man up. "I think that's enough for tonight, eh?"

Nodding in acknowledgement to the tavern owner, he half dragged, half supported his fellow knight out of the tavern.

Stumbling slightly under Lancelot's weight, he began the trek back to the castle.


Wrinkling his nose, Gwaine grimaced as he helped Lancelot out of his clothes and onto the bed. Finally, Lancelot tucked in, and in no danger of hurting himself, Gwaine left, shutting the door on his way out. He would have to ask Gaius for some of that hangover cure tomorrow.

Sighing, he leant his head against the door, letting the new information he had unwittingly learnt wash over him. It made far too much sense that Merlin had magic, everything, every movement the man had made, all of his little quirks, Gwaine was now seeing in a new light. But he still had one question.

Why?

Why would Merlin come to a place such as Camelot, a place that actively sought out and killed people like him? It didn't make sense.

Then there was the question of what Merlin was doing here. Which, Gwaine supposed, linked into his first question. Merlin had been in Camelot for years. What was his plan, if any? If his main objective was to kill the Pendragons, then his friend (enemy?) was failing miserably at it. Merlin would have had ample opportunity to kill Arthur, being his manservant, so what exactly was he doing?

Unless Merlin had only started using magic to protect them. But again, why?

Gwaine groaned, glaring at the door. Lancelot had really thrown him a new one hadn't he? However, whatever Merlin's reason for using magic, it was obvious that Lancelot approved of its use. Which meant that whatever Merlin wanted couldn't have been that bad? Besides, the only instances Gwaine could think of Merlin ever using magic was to save Arthur and the lives of his friends. That didn't seem counterproductive to someone who was supposed to be evil.

But now came the hard question. Did Gwaine tell Merlin that he was aware of his magic, or did he just pretend, turn a blind eye when his friend did use it? If Merlin had wanted Gwaine to know, surely he would have told him by now, right? And didn't that rankle slightly, the idea that Merlin trusted Lancelot more than he trusted Gwaine? Unless Lancelot found out, and then told Merlin that he knew. But then, would Merlin trust Lancelot again, would he even trust Gwaine again if he found out that Lancelot had unwittingly revealed his secret when drunk?

No. It was for the best.

Gwaine would stay in the shadows, helping Merlin in any way he could. He would turn a blind eye. Not ask so many questions of the younger man.

Nodding, Gwaine turned away from Lancelot's door, and towards the comfort of his own bed.

That's what he would do. He would protect Merlin with his life, would look out for the younger man when Lancelot couldn't. It was the least he could do.


A/N Yes the knight pun was fully intended