Disclaimer: Still haven't been given the writes to Merlin.

A/N Now this is a long one to make up for the wait, enjoy!

For Craelic

Gwaine ran through the woods feeling the wind blow through his hair, he let out a shout of glee as he did. He felt so free.

Behind him he could hear his friend Peter running, his breath coming in gulps. Peter wasn't as fit as Gwaine. The two eight year olds were racing, although Gwaine didn't count it as a race when he knew he was going to win. It wasn't that he was big headed (although he was) it was that he was a very athletic boy that spent the majority of his time running from something. Running tended to build up a good stamina.

Peter was a slightly weedy boy, small in size but he was also a bit of a pain. He was a son of one of the Knights in the area but was deemed too weak by his father to train; his older brothers got all the glory instead. Peter was awkward and shy but mostly annoying. He tended to follow Gwaine around asking him what he was doing and why. Gwaine never really knew what he was doing or why he was doing it. Most of the time he did it because it seemed like a good idea at the time. It generally never was.

His mother berated him constantly for it, but she could never keep the smile out of her eyes.

See although he was disadvantaged because of the dead father thing, it was also a huge advantage which was something he had learnt quickly. He reminded his mother of his father, so she never could get truly mad at him and it also got him the sympathy vote with strangers.

In fact the only person who treated him normally was Sir Wilfred. Sometimes that felt great, it stopped him feeling like he was living in a shadow that he could never escape- everyone told him how great his father was but he didn't know him so how could he know? Sir Wilfred sparred with him, trained him. After each practice he would tell him a story about his dad, just something. Sometimes it would be a long story and others just a snippet. So it was great but at other times it was as though Wilfred could see inside him, as if he was the only one who understood him. Gwaine didn't like that at all.

Gwaine liked that he only understood himself.

He liked his secrecy and he liked his secret hide outs. Peter had been to most of them simply because Gwaine just couldn't seem to shake the boy off.

His favourite place was a clearing of burnt trees surrounding a little pool. Peter hated that place and would not stay long- he said the trees were haunted. Gwaine however thought it was brilliant and he spent most of his time there making stories about how the trees had blackened.

He also liked to practice his sword skill either against Peter or just with himself. His sword although light and flimsy was his most prized possession and his most loyal friend. He had never used it in a real fight but Gwaine was determined that when he did use it, he wouldn't be killed like his father. He would survive.

"Gwaine I hate it here." Peter whined.

Gwaine pushed into the clearing and sank onto a grassy boulder.

"I didn't tell you to come did I? Go home if you're scared" Gwaine mocked the boy; Peter to his credit just followed him silently- at least for a while.

"Joanie says the wood is haunted." He worried.

"You shouldn't listen to such wives tales." Gwaine said with an air of importance. Peter just shook his head sadly at Gwaine.

"She said that a girl died here, from the village. That she was murdered." Peter said dramatically, Gwaine rolled his eyes at the boy.

"You tell me this all the time, I don't believe it."

"But it's true! Last time we came here and you ran off remember? I Couldn't find you for hours… well I stumbled to this tree and there was this rotted basket under it and well further up the path, there was a stone with an marking on it Gwaine." Peter whispered.

"Yeah and what did it say?"

"Rest In Peace beloved Jean. May the one who fell you be cursed." Peter said waving his arms around for affect.

Gwaine wasn't impressed "And? So why does that have anything to do with this?"

"Don't you think it's weird, this perfect circle of burnt trees?" Peter questioned.

"Not really Peter and nor should you." Gwaine shrugged it off; even if it was caused by magic it hardly changed anything. He still loved this place he couldn't see why he should be scared of a place so long after something had happened. It was all just silly.

"I don't understand why you aren't scared."

"Because some of us aren't cowards." Gwaine replied with a frown.

"I am not a coward!" Peter said indignantly.

"Yes you are, you are scared of everything." Gwaine replied twirling a stick between his fingers.

"Being scared is nothing to be ashamed of." Peter said angrily.

"Yes it is, being brave is much more important." Gwaine was hardly paying attention to Peter, and it only angered him more.

"Sometimes being scared makes us stronger."

"Not when you're scared of everything." Gwaine broke the twig between his fingers with a loud snap.

"I am not. You are scared you just daren't admit it." Peter roared.

"Am not."

"Yes you are! You are scared of water, scared of war. Scared of your mum dying- face it you are far more scared than me." Peter realised as soon as he had finished his tirade that he had gone too far because Gwaine stood up suddenly and advance towards him tightening his fists.

"I'd run if I were you." Gwaine warned violently and Peter did, he sprinted from the clearing as fast as his legs would take him.

Gwaine didn't follow.

Gwaine wasn't a coward, he wasn't. He wasn't scared of anything- Peter was making stories up again just like he was about the dead person.

"I am not a coward!" Gwaine screamed, his voice echoed around the dead trees his voice booming back to him. Gwaine felt better for his release but still picked up a large branch and hurled it at a tree. He was more than pleased when the branch snapped cleanly in two. Feeling much better Gwaine left his clearing returning home before his mother worried too much.

When he entered he could hear his mother talking worriedly, instantly curious Gwaine poked his head around the door to see what was going on. His mother was talking to Wilfred, Gwaine could just about see the back of his head.

"We have no money left, Wilfred the harvest was appalling." His mother fretted.

"I am sure you can find a way you always do." Wilfred consoled her.

"I don't know. I can hardly afford the servants let alone the children."

"Why not petition to the King?" Wilfred suggested his head bobbing slightly as he talked.

"Not until I have no other options, I still have my pride." Leonie said hotly.

"Your brother?" The way he said it was almost timid, Gwaine realised why only a few seconds later when Leonie jumped to her feet and began to pace.

"Not him" she spat "I shall not let him think he has any hold over me."

"You used to be so close"

"Before I realised that he was nothing but a coward." Leonie said angrily.

"Maybe it's time to forgive him; you can't blame him for being scared." Wilfred pointed out.

"I can. He got to live whereas Gareth died." Leonie would not budge and Gwaine could sense his uncle's frustration as he inhaled deeply.

"I cannot help you Leonie, I can only support you so much. You will need their help and you know it."

"There are ways, there are always ways."

"Leonie forget your pride and think of your children! You need help, if not this year then the next and what about the year after that?"

"Like you said, I always find a way." Leonie said turning on the spot. Gwaine shifted uneasily worry sinking in his stomach. He hated to see his mother like this. "I cannot let the villagers starve- so I will loan them the money so they can grow next year's harvest. I will also try to set up trade routes with Camelot or even Mercia- it's possible. We have craft people in the village and we should be able to make something from that. I have enough I think to get us through the next few years- depending of course. We will be okay. I think." Leonie said confidently.

"You will need help." Wilfred agreed.

"Yes, but I have you. I can also ask for some from King Lot- he cannot refuse something that will help his kingdom. Olaf will help if I give him a percentage of the profits."

"I thought you didn't want help?" Wilfred asked, his voice laced in confusion.

"No Wilfred, there is a difference between receiving hand outs and earning it in my own right. I do not lose my pride or my ground this way." She paused thoughtfully "Plus if I asked for money then I would only need more next year- I will not be dependent on the will of others."

"I understand- I will help in any way I can Leonie you know I will." Wilfred promised heart fully.

"I know Wilf you have done so much for me." Leonie told him with a smile walking over and taking his hand.

"I do it for you and Garry." Wilfred told her "I will always look after you Gwaine and the little one. You know I will."

"I do, but I think sometimes you need to move on with your own life." Leonie told him "Find a nice woman, wed her have your own family."

"I already have a nice woman" Wilfred told her.

"I am not your woman and you are not my man. We both know this Wilfred."

"Yes" Wilfred said quietly, Gwaine winced in sympathy for him. He seemed upset.

"Wilfred don't pout at me. Now get of your bum you promised Gwaine a lesson tonight." Leonie warned him wagging her finger at him, Wilfred let out a sigh before standing.

"I know I did, Gareth was right about him you know I've said it before and I'll say it again he's a natural. I haven't seen a single knight like him you know." Wilfred praised, Gwaine glowed in pride he didn't know that's what Wilfred thought of him he had never mentioned it before.

"That's because he is Gareth's son." Leonie said softly. "Now go!" She shooed. Wilfred laughed and walked towards the door. Gwaine panicked and bolted outside picking his sword up from beside the door as he went. Gwaine went to their practice area and began to do some of his practice moves hoping Wilfred wouldn't notice he had been spying on them.

The sun was slowly sinking over the horizon and Gwaine couldn't help but feel the weakness in his bones as he lifted his sword, it was too late to practice he much preferred it when they could do it mid-day but Wilfred had duties to attend to and could only visit once or twice a week and normally in the evening unless he was blessed with a day off which only happened rarely.

Gwaine thrust his sword forward feeling the lightness of his feet as he did, he twisted on the balls of his feet pulling the sword back before swinging it out again against an invisible attacker. His moves were getting much more fluid, when he had first learnt that move the weight of the sword had sent him tumbling to the floor bur now he could do it—easy as.

"I see you got started without me." Wilfred said with a chuckle from behind him.

"Wilfred!" Gwaine said happily walking over to the older man and inclining his head slightly in respect. Wilfred ruffled his hair and Gwaine frowned up at him in annoyance. "I thought today we could maybe move on to hand on hand combat."

"But I thought that there were rules to being a knight?" Gwaine questioned thoughtfully "I thought the fight had to be honourable."

"Well yes, a fight in a controlled setting or a competition will be. But real life isn't quite like that Gwaine, in real life we have to throw out our morals in order to survive."

"I don't get it, why would we need to have hand to hand when we can use a sword?"

"You might not always have your sword; you might not always be wearing armour. Life hardly ever throws us a situation we are prepared for. In a fight to the death it's all about survival and the most important thing is to be prepared for any eventuality." Wilfred said patiently. Gwaine nodded slightly slowly starting to understand that fighting was about practicality and not so much about honour.

"What do I need to do?" Gwaine said determinedly placing his sword carefully off to the side and rolling up his sleeves.

"I will first teach you some blocks." Wilfred told him. "Place your arm across in front of you- like you would hold a shield." Gwaine did as indicated. "When I go to punch you I want you to bring your arm around and try to deflect my fist to the side."

"Okay" Gwaine said frowning in concentration as he stared at Wilfred. Wilfred smiled slightly and without warning struck out at Gwaine. Gwaine was taken by surprise but managed to bring his arm up to meet Wilfred's fist. He was too slow however to deflect it and instead his fist simply collided with his forearm painfully. Gwaine yelped and rubbed his now throbbing forearm.

"It's about reflexes; to stay alive you have to be quick. Again."

They tried again and again and again.

Gwaine was tired, frustrated and fed up. He had only managed to deflect the punch once and then he'd accidently hit himself in the head with his own fist. With his head now throbbing and his arm bruised Gwaine felt it was time to call it a night. It didn't help that Wilfred was smirking at him.

"Stop it." Gwaine huffed crossing his arms across his chest and wincing when he tightened his painful arm.

"Stop what Gwainey?" Wilfred laughed.

"Laughing at me."

"I am not laughing at you. I think it's brilliant that you've done so well."

"I've done rubbish; all I have learnt is that even your weak punches bruise."

"Nonsense, you are one of the fastest learners I have ever taught and you sustained more than a knight would under such training." Wilfred praised.

"So I didn't do badly then?" Gwaine asked hopefully.

"No, not at all." Wilfred said solemnly.

"Really?" Gwaine asked biting his lip.

"Would I lie to you Gwaine?" Wilfred cocked his eyebrow and stared at the boy who shifted uncomfortably.

"You never have before. About anything." Gwaine told him.

"I shall never lie to you Gwaine; it harms you more than it helps. It is counterproductive."

"Right." Gwaine said not understanding the word.

"It means it would not help matters" Wilfred explained. "Now we have that sorted out we can talk about your dad if you want. I'm sure there is something you don't know yet" Wilfred suggested.

"I suppose" Gwaine said trying to sound not that interested, he failed if Wilfred's quite chuckle was anything to go by.

"Well back when your dad was just a lad there was this lady called Helen." Wilfred began leading Gwaine to the small bench outside the house. "Now your dad wasn't as good looking back then, a bit weedy looking." Wilfred said distantly "Now Helen was not impressed with your dad following her around like a lost puppy. So she turned around one day when he was following her with a bouquet of wildflowers, she snatched the flowers out of your dads hand threw to the floor and stamped on them. Not just a little either, she stomped on them until there was nothing left. She told him to not come near her ever again- he was very upset. Asked me why he wasn't as good with the ladies as me."

"Did he really say that?" Gwaine interrupted doubtfully.

"Something to that affect. But it was fine in the end, she fell over into a pile of mud the week after and we got a good laugh at her. Your dad moved onto more beautiful ladies after, he was a hard one to put down he was."

"My mother? He moved on to my mother, right?" Gwaine asked.

"Not straight away, he was a young lad and a bit of a scallion. He wasn't very fortunate with the ladies until he met your mother. Now Gwaine I think it's time for bed don't you?"

"Fine, will you be back this week?" Gwaine asked. Wilfred paused for a second before inclining his head.

"I believe I should have the day off in two nights, I am not promising though. The King is being awkward as of late."

"I shall see you soon then, thank you Wilfred." Gwaine said with a shy smile before hugging him slightly and running inside.

Wilfred sighed as he walked home, Gwaine reminded him more of Gareth every day, he could only hope that his training would allow Gwaine to survive where his father hadn't because one thing was for sure Gwaine would be involved in some sort of conflict when he was older, he was too brave not to. Gwaine would have to outlive his father; otherwise the world would just not be fair.

Leonie raised her quill with a weary sigh it had been a long day and she just wanted to go sleep for a long while. She had spent the whole day writing her plans for Craelic. She was going to petition to Olaf tomorrow not that she had told him. She was slightly worried to what was going to happen, she was scared he would refuse her and the entire of craelic would suffer for it. She wouldn't put it past Olaf to hold a grudge against get for the argument they had three years ago it summed up how pathetic her brother could be really. Leonie felt her age and more so she was so sick of life getting her down.

Three years ago; eight months after the death of Gareth she had given birth it had been a bit touch aka go for a while and Gemma had feared both she and the baby would die.

Luckily both she and the baby had been fine. She'd named her baby girl Louisa and although she was a sickly child she had survived thus far and was a charming little girl. Louisa was pampered by everyone including her big brother - he doted on her when he was around. Louisa was completely different to Gwaine she was quiet and much more mellow. Although she was only three years old so much of that could change.

Leonie loved both of her children equally although they both had little quirks about them that made them special to her. Gwaine was so much like Gareth from his behaviour to his mannerisms he was a wonderfully mischievous little boy with a heart of gold. Louisa however was Leonies daughter in blood and she couldn't help but be overjoyed about that fact. Louisa was also the kindest person she had ever known and she would have said that even if she wasn't biased.

Leonie had memorised what she was going to say tomorrow but that didn't really decrease her nervousness. The candles in the room were nearly burnt out the light flickering. Leonie stood and climbed into bed. Pulling the cover up to her chin Leonie wrapped herself deep into the covers snuggling into the warmth. Leonies eyes drifted shut and she fell into troubled dreams.

The next day had come all too quickly and before she knew it she was waiting in the drawing room of her childhood home wearing her best dress.

It was a Manor house one of the oldest of Caerleon. It was panelled in dark wood which had the effect of making the rooms look smaller and also creepy of you are on your own. The house did not hold many happy memories for her she had always felt very isolated in it. There were no other houses for miles and get parents had travelled a lot leaving her with a different nanny every time.

"Oh"said Olaf heavily.

"Expecting someone else?" Leonie asked with a raised brow.

"Well I wasn't expecting you" Olaf said not unkindly.

"I have come to speak with you, brother."

"What more is there to say?" Olaf said blandly staring out of the window to avoid looking at her.

"I come not for me but for Craelic."

"I thought you did not need my help Leo." Olaf looked away from her as he spoke but the hurt in his voice was obvious.

"The type of help you were offering I didn't want, I am my own person Olaf and you know that." Leonie spoke softly feeling slightly guilty for the argument three years ago. Although in her mind he should have never said any of it- it was as much his fault as hers.

"I realise that now." He said. "What is it that you want?"

"The village of Crealic falls on Lyonesse's land, so it is my responsibility. The harvest has been poor these last years and the village is suffering. I am going to lend them the money to get them back on their feet; I also want to set up some trade routes to bring more profit into the area."

"So what do you want from me?"

"If you could help, give me some money towards this endeavour as well as your advice I am happy to give a percentage of the profits to you." Leonie spoke quickly and almost shut her eyes to avoid looking at Olaf.

"I will give you the money, but you do realise you will have to ask for permission for this. King Lot will have to know." Olaf said with a glint of something- he seemed almost excited.

"I know I want you there. He will not want it to come from a woman." Leonie's voice was full with anger.

"I do not understand why you dislike the King so." Olaf said in confusion, Leonie almost snarled.

"He dislikes me. I do not know why but he does."

"I don't understand"

"Since Gareth died the King has raised my taxes three times, much more than the other nobles. He has also ignored any pleas I sent on behalf of Craelic."

"That does not mean he hates you." Olaf frowned "Although my taxes haven't risen at all."

"I doubted they would have. I am not liked Olaf, I am a woman with an opinion and intelligence. There is nothing that scares men more."

"Well I will come with you; I shall make it look like my idea in case of any prejudice. This isn't about us, it's about the village."

"You will help?" Leonie said her eyebrows rising.

"Of course I'll help you idiot. You are my sister." Olaf said in frustration.

"What happened to trying to control me?"

"I realised it would never work. You have always done things yourself, I was wrong to try and change that. I thought you needed my protection."

"I'm sorry Olaf, for these past three years. My pride always prevents me from doing what's right." Leonie stepped forward and wrapped her small arms round Olaf's large frame, her chin resting on his chest.

"As am I, but it's okay now. It's okay." He soothed. They stayed like that for a long time enjoying the embrace and the kinship restored. Together they would be great, together everything would work out.