The sun had just set over Camelot, leaving the sky holding onto the final eerie purple glow. Most of the people were already shut up in their little houses, stoking their stoves to keep of the oncoming chill. The guards kept watch at the gate of the citadel and in the dungeon below, and all was quiet for a moment.
Merlin and Gaius were each lost in a silent contemplation – Gaius as to the mystery of the self-made Druid, and Merlin in plotting his fantastic plan.
As the last light drained out the sky, Merlin let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the back room of Gaius's chambers. The old man cast him an odd look, but Merlin, still entangled in this own endeavors, failed to notice it.
"Are you really going to sleep in there?" Gaius asked.
Merlin glanced to Gaius and then back to the too-low doorway which led to the small anti-chamber. "Where else would I sleep? I've always slept there."
"I'm sure if you ask Guinevere she'll give you a whole room of your own."
"What's wrong with that room?"
Gaius raised an eyebrow, recalling the countless times a younger Merlin had sleepily slammed his head into the top of the doorway, or tripped down or up the single step into the workshop, or rolled his way right out of the undersized cot and onto the floor. Knowing that Merlin would discount all of these obvious reasons for moving, he simply said, "Don't you think you're getting a little old for it?"
"Gaius, you're the one who's getting old," Merlin replied, and took another bold step towards the small chamber.
"At least I haven't got a mop on my face," Gaius muttered.
Merlin stopped. "Are you commenting on my beard?"
"I'm just saying, you'd look younger without it."
"Gaius, I…I'm not…" With a fantastic eye roll, which was as good as a concession that he'd been beat, Merlin closed his mouth. The pair stared one another down for a long moment, and then Merlin stomped indignantly towards the bedroom. He was, however, still glowering at Gaius, and managed to forget to duck for the door way. His head hit the stone wall with a disconcerting whack, and he stuttered out a great, "OW!"
In the process of this, Merlin fell back half a step. He managed to catch himself, but he dislodged the horn which had been so clumsily tucked into the back of his pants and hidden beneath his cloak. The sound of the ivory against the cobbled floor was a nice compliment to that of Merlin's head and the wall, and the whole scene played out in a perfect symphony of disarray.
Gaius eyed the horn with suspicion. "Merlin, what have you got there?"
"It's –" Merlin attempted, but he was still busy reeling from the shock of his collision. With his hand pressed heartily against his sore forehead, he looked all the more the fool.
"Alright, I know very well what it is. Perhaps I should rephrase – why do you have it?"
"Guinevere gave it to me," Merlin said, collecting himself. His head was still properly throbbing, but he was more or less used to running into things. He plucked the horn from the ground, and held it gingerly in his hands.
"I see," Gaius said. His eyebrow raised to unprecedented heights. "You know, it is very nearly the equinox."
"Really?" Merlin said, as innocently as he could manage. "I hadn't noticed."
"You hadn't noticed?"
Merlin shook his head. His long hair and scraggly beard echoed the motion, making him into a great blur.
"You have a horn that can open the veil on the equinox, and you hadn't noticed? Merlin, you're as terrible a liar as ever."
Merlin let out a feeble breath of air. "Gaius, I know what you're going to say, but it's entirely safe. I know what went wrong last time, so –"
"Last time Uther's ghost was terrorizing the castle! He nearly burnt Guinevere to death, and injured several knights, if you recall."
"This time it'll be different," Merlin insisted, squaring up. He towered over Gaius, who seemed to be shrinking with age. "He will be different. He is not his father's son."
Gaius opened his mouth then clamped it shut again. He wondered how true Merlin's claim was, but he would not dare speak out against the person Merlin loved most – especially since Gaius had loved him, too. "All I'll say is I think it's a bad idea."
"I knew you would say that," Merlin muttered. "But you understand I've got to do it, don't you?"
Gaius bowed his head, thinking for a long moment. "Yes, Merlin, I do."
A soft knock at the door interrupted what would have been a long, deliberate silence. Without waiting for permission, Sir Tristan stuck his head partially in the door. The wide smile was back on his freckled face, and his red locks seemed to bounce up and down though he stood perfectly still. "Hello, Gaius! Hello Sir Sorcerer!"
"Tristan," Merlin said soberly, "I'm sorry for earlier."
"Oh, no worries, Sorcerer Merlin. I'll say you did scare me for a moment there, the whole glowing eyes and hand raised thing – yes that was fantastic! But no hard feelings. We ought to have been faster, and I'm sorry about your dragon…"
"Sir Tristan," Gaius interrupted, "Have you come for something?"
"Oh yes," he said, "Our young Prince George would feel more comfortable going to bed tonight if Merlin would first check the room for any monsters or nefarious types and expel such things."
A small smile came to Merlin's lips, though he tried to resist it. He turned to Gaius and said, "Off to do my duty as court sorcerer." He tucked the horn back into his cloak, and followed a half step behind the enthusiastic knight, who was already prattling on about something entirely unrelated.
OIOIOIOIOIO
"Is the room clear?" George said in the sort of official tone that comes off more cute than authoritative in a boy so young.
Merlin pressed his ear against the wardrobe for a second time and held up a finger as if to say wait, then with more grandeur than necessary he nodded. "All clear, Sire – though I confess, you may have woodworm."
"What's woodworm?" the boy asked.
Merlin paused for a second, "Can't say that I actually know."
George let out a tremendous laugh, and Merlin smiled. Finally- someone who appreciated his antics. It was fun for Merlin to again play the utter fool, to joke and gab and have it so easily accepted. He'd forgotten what this felt like in those years he spent alone. Now, rejuvenated by the sheer joy of it all, he felt his confidence returning. Of course, knocking on the cabinets and looking on the floor were all just for show – he'd already felt the room, fallowed it out for all the emptiness it was, and had determined there was no threat there.
"Thank you, Merlin," George said, still toying with that kingly tone, "You are dismissed."
"Thank you?" Merlin said, "You're already doing better at this than your dad."
The little boy smiled again, and in the gesture, Merlin saw Arthur, and suddenly the hole in his chest was as big and as empty as ever. Never mind that, he thought, there's work to be done – and he forced himself to keep that air of jubilation he'd dawned.
Neither George nor Merlin had noticed Gwen enter the room, and perhaps neither would have noticed her presence thereafter, except that she said softly, "Now George, is that all better?"
"Yes, mum," he said, "I can go to sleep now. Or…"
"No ors, if, or buts. Get you to bed."
The boy bit his lip a moment, and then pattered off to the oversized canopy bed in the center of the room.
"Thank you, Merlin," Gwen said softly.
"It was no problem." He said, "He will be safe tonight."
The Queen smiled, and Merlin had sense he was meant to leave. He had an opportunity, though, and he wasn't about to waste it. "Gwen, may I speak to you about something?"
Guinevere raised her brow in a moment of concern.
"It's nothing too serious, I assure."
She let a little puff of air out. "Of course, Merlin. I'm just going to finish tucking George in, and then we can speak in the hall."
Merlin nodded. He turned towards the large canopy bed, and proclaimed, "Goodnight, Sire!" to which George responded with a vigorous, "Goodnight, Merlin!"
The Sorcerer then went out to the hall, where he waited impatiently – stepping two feet this way, then two back that way. When Gwen appeared several minutes later, Merlin was nearly ready to pop out of his skin.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
"You see, Gwen, I am still feeling rather guilty about this afternoon –"
"There's no need –"
"No, but, I should have been watching after you two better. Especially George. He shouldn't have had to see what he did. But I'd like to make it up to him by taking him on a trip for the equinox. Show him some magic."
"A trip?" Gwen said skeptically. Merlin realized he was no longer talking to the Gwen he knew, he was talking to a worried mother. He shifted his weight as she mulled over the idea. "He is quite fond of you. I suppose you and the knights –"
"I was thinking we might go just the two of us….as a…a bonding experience."
"I don't know, Merlin. It's a sweet idea, but you know I worry. He's still just a boy."
"I promise I'd look after him. Besides, there's no safer place for him than by my side."
Gwen smiled, and there was something warm about her eyes. "I do believe that, Merlin. If you promise to be very, very careful and be back within a day, you two may go."
Merlin returned Guinevere's smile wholeheartedly "Thank you, My Lady." He pivoted with a spring in his step – he knew he had what he wanted.
"And Merlin…"
He hesitated. "Yes?"
"Perhaps you should move into the chamber across the hall from George's and mine. It's a grand room, and one of my girls just cleaned it out. That way you'll be closer if we need you."
Merlin's face contorted. "Has Gaius put you up to this?"
"No," Gwen said, genuinely taken aback, "Why do you ask?"
"No reason."
