—

Gwaine and the Greenstalk
Late December - Early January

"If we don't pick up the pace," Gwaine grumbled, "we'll make it to Idirsholas next winter. Ari!" She ignored him. "Will you just ride on the sarding horse?"

Merlin whispered, and gestured to Ari stomping through the underbrush in front of their geldings. "Maybe she knows I have magic?"

"Doubt it, mate," Gwaine replied. "I think she was distracted by the blood."

Merlin grimaced. "I was too. Head wounds aren't very pretty."

The magic bled away from Merlin's eyes, the spell that had heated their mother's blade fading away with it. He stepped forward and lay a palm on the woman's neck, feeling through her lack of heartbeat what her unfocused eyes had already told him. Turning back to Ari and Gwaine he confirmed, "She's dead."

Ari burst with fresh sobs and pushed Gwaine to stand alone. "Oh gods, how could you do this?"

"What choice did I have?" Gwaine replied. "She came at us with a knife." He kicked the bit of metal. "You knew her best; would she have let us live peacefully if I'd just knocked her out?"

"We could have taken her with us. That's what family does for each other."

"When we get to Camelot, I'll show you family. This woman wasn't family." He leveled a finger at her body. "She was poison."

A thick branch caught in the saddlebags, and Gwaine leaned back to free it from Ari's pack. As he adjusted the weight and poked at the things within, something caught his attention. But Merlin interrupted his investigation. "What did you mean when you said, 'It only takes one drop'?"

"Huh?" Gwaine said as he pulled the pack into his lap with a huff. "Elaborate, mate. I don't have mind-reading skills, remember?"

"You said 'she was poison, and it only takes one drop.'"

Gwaine tossed his hair. "Aranna wouldn't have lived placidly in Caerleon or Camelot - she was a danger to us." He grinned ruefully, "It only takes a drop of evil to sour everything that could be."

Merlin deflated. "That just proves there are a lot of things that I can blame myself for."

Gwaine quirked a brow. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Right, well, about that," Gwaine frowned and focused on the silhouette of his sister thrashing ahead. Her angry pace was starting to wane; she must be getting tired. "I'm going to come clean. If the others think killing Aranna was too far, then I want to be properly judged for it."

"They'll forgive you for it, Gwaine," Merlin sighed, "I forgave Gaius for his actions during the Purge, and in my opinion, those actions were much worse."

"I think you're underestimating how difficult it is to forgive someone that has lied to you," Gwaine said warningly. It was loud enough for Ari to hear since the space between them had lessened, and it triggered her to finally face them.

"I'm not angry because you lied to me," she announced stroppily and stomped her way to Merlin's horse.

And because her presence kept Merlin from responding, Gwaine was treated only to the crease of hurt and acceptance between Merlin's brows. In gruff apology, Gwaine tossed Ari's pack between them and muttered, "Think you can mend the rip?"

Ari's hand shoved itself into the air near Merlin. "I accept your earlier offer of riding on your horse, if you don't mind."

Merlin looked between her stubborn brown eyes, and Gwaine's. "Don't you think you should ride with your brother?"

"He breaks all the ladies' hearts in Camelot," Gwaine piped up, "be careful, Ari."

"I do not!" Merlin groused, "That's you." Then he glanced down at the lumpy cloth balancing in his hands and saw the large tear running down one side. "But I may need the extra saddle space to deal with this."

Ari frowned but circled around to Gwaine's side while Merlin began to ruffle in the physician's satchel for a needle and twine. "I meant quickly," Gwaine interrupted, making Merlin glare at him. "Don't tell me you haven't done the same for Arthur's clothes."

He emphasized to stress the point, "I prefer to mend alone."

"I know," Gwaine said as he hoisted Ari upwards. "And how long are you planning on doing all your servant duties in secret?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes at empty space, slightly perturbed, and seemingly focused on threading the needle. "Not for much longer."

"Good," Ari said, now settled uncomfortably into place. "Because while I have no idea what nonsense the both of you are talking about," she gestured in the direction of Caerleon, "this is the kind of shite that happens when people keep secrets."

As Gwaine, Merlin, and Ari continued onwards to Idirsholas in the days leading to the Kalends of January, Arthur packed up his troops for the same journey. The process was a bit more manual than he would have liked, largely due to his missing manservant.

Arthur looked at the chickenscratch letter Merlin had left him and huffed for a countless time. It made sense for someone to go to Idirsholas early and ensure it wasn't a trap, and to be on the trail of the Caerleon warrior as soon as possible, but what purpose was there in sneaking off without even talking about it first?

And what was this at the bottom about Galatine being bigger and harder than Excalibur? That didn't make any sense.

"Sire?" He raised a brow at Leon. "We're waiting on you."

Right. "We have everything?" He had to double-check since a certain manservant was not around to blame for things going wrong. Merlin might just be the most aggravating person in Albion.

"Maybe we should wait a few more minutes for the mystery knight to show up?" Elyan said, "He may still join us."

The knights glanced between each other, wondering if anyone else had run across any knight that had hinted at tagging along. Percival interrupted them, "Perhaps our man has gone on ahead."

Arthur took one last look around the pavilion. "I admit I'm disappointed in him," he frowned and spurred his horse forward. "If he's behind us, then it's up to him to catch up."

Elyan didn't catch that first clue, but he caught the second. It flew by a few days later, when they had camped for the night with the ruined Fortress of Idirsholas in the distance.

"Where are those two fools?" Arthur was saying as he was forced to rinse his bowl out with his own waterskin. "Shouldn't they have tried to find us by now?"

"They're probably nearer the fortress, with the warrior," Leon concluded rationally. He looked across the expanse, "I don't see any other fires."

"That makes sense," Elyan said, "if they're trying to remain hidden."

Arthur snorted. "Merlin forgets flint half the time. I swear, sometimes I've seen him try to light fires with random rocks just so he doesn't have to admit it." He threw a small stick into the fire and it spit as the water within it bubbled away. "But if there are no other fires, that must mean our mystery knight isn't here."

"At the very least, he isn't ahead of us," Leon reasoned. "He would have missed a patrol if he left any earlier than the night before us, which only gives him time to take the direct route we ourselves took. We would have seen trace of him."

"He could be behind us, following our trail," Elyan guessed, but he sounded doubtful.

Arthur soured, "I don't mind speaking on his behalf, but I wish he hadn't hid from me. It's cowardly."

"He's not a coward," Percival said quietly. "None of your knights are. He'll be there."

"Sure," Arthur replied, "but what does it say about our knights when it's more likely my manservant will show up to a challenge?" He huffed as he stood and clapped a hand on Leon's shoulder. "Wake me for my watch."

Leon shook his head, a bit disheartened as well. He clicked his sword from its sheath and turned his back on the fire. "Get to bed," he addressed Elyan and Percival. "Long day tomorrow."

Percival silently moved for his bedroll, but Elyan snagged him by the elbow when they were a small distance away. Whispering, he said, "Who is it? You know who it is, I can tell."

"How?" Percival asked.

"There's no way for you to know he's not a coward - that he'll be here. Who is it?"

The burly man shook his head slowly. "It's not my secret to tell."

"So you do know," Elyan said animatedly. "Just tell me; I'll find out in the morning anyways." Percival shook his head again and more stubbornly went down to sleep. "He must be someone in the barracks, right? You saw him leave?" Percival rolled over to hide his face.

"It's obvious when you think about it."

"Ugh," Elyan grumbled as he rolled into bed himself. What am I missing?

He finally got it after Percival's third slip. Cue the jokes that Gwen got all the brains, because, bollocks, he was an idiot.

Elyan had the last watch that next morning, so as the sun started to brighten the forest, he put a small pot of water to boil. If they did end up fighting today it would be no good to do it on an empty stomach. After some dried oats it became the grueliest of porridge, especially with no spice or meat to liven the taste, and the concoction make Arthur joke, "I'd rather have went hungry."

This is usually where Merlin would make a comment about how Arthur's belt loops would appreciate that - but Merlin wasn't here, and Arthur could make Elyan run laps in full armor. "I could do some shifts guarding the kitchen to boost my skills?"

"Oh no, you're not getting out of winter patrol," Arthur smirked. "I had to suffer through that for years."

Well, it was worth a try.

The four men were on the road very soon after. They were a group that immediately packed things after use; it only made sense to be prepared for a quick getaway. And no one wanted to be the knight that tripped over their bedroll during a bandit attack.

The last stretch was across a wide plain, white with a thin layer of snow and early morning fog. It hid the four knights well, and quietly they made their way towards the dark shape of the fortress on the horizon. They had to be careful to come at the structure from the left, not because of a fear of nonexistent sentries, but because the right side of the fortress was defended by a shear cliff.

As they neared, however, they got a better view of the multi-tiered fortress, its many towers topped with heavily sloped pinnacles. The walls themselves were in ruin, and the ground nearby was a minefield of gravel and stones. It forced Arthur to pull up short.

"Anybody see a route that won't break our horses' legs?" Arthur asked. There wasn't a hitching post in the rubble, but the horses had long been trained to ground-tie, so, barring bandits or a scare, the horses would stay where the knights left them. "Me neither. Let's find a spot more well-hidden."

Leon pulled ahead, trotting round with his chestnut roadster to the far side of the fortress, already thinking ahead to quick escape routes. But a soft knicker cut the silence, and from the gloom came a riderless horse. They only recognized it as Merlin's when it eagerly fell into line behind Arthur.

"Well, we know they made it at least," Elyan said. Gwaine and Merlin had left their horses in a nook near a rubble-made entrance, and after Arthur confirmed the two horses weren't injured in battle, the four knights followed in their comrade's footsteps. Elyan leaned over to Percival and whispered, "Your guy isn't here."

A small smile played on Percival's face, but he said nothing, and that should have clued Elyan in. Instead, he spent the next half-hour navigating the rubble as they climbed up towards the keep, fully believing Percival had been mistaken.

The tall knight saw the Caerleon warrior first, muttering, "How does he get his horse inside all these places?"

Elyan looked up to see the Caerleon man atop his horse in the midst of the main courtyard. His halberd was drawn and held high above his head in challenge, and Gwaine was only a little ways ahead of them, turning now to look at them in surprise. Gwaine was good, but he wasn't one-on-one-against-cavalry good. And he definitely wasn't turn-your-back-on-cavalry good.

Elyan's hand went to his sword and he started forward to defend him. Then Percival's weight nearly knocked him on his face.

"What?" His eyes went from Percival's restraining palm, to the amused knight's crinkled eyes. They were focused on Gwaine, and as Elyan swung his head back forward it hit him. "Oh." Then he frowned. "Seriously? You could have told me. It's just Gwaine!"

Percival chuckled. "Still think the mystery knight is a coward?"

"Yes," Elyan crossed his arms, "I also happen to think the mystery knight smells and cheats at dice."

Arthur and Leon, without Percival to stop them, had reached Gwaine's flank by then. Leon slid into a textbook defensive stance, and Arthur pushed ahead to wave Excalibur at the warrior. "Dismount!" He called. "I'm not going to shout at you to discuss terms."

"Arthur," Gwaine started. "Let me handle this."

"No," Arthur said plainly. "And I've got a bone with you too, actually. Who goes on a surveillance mission and then doesn't send back any information?"

"Surveillance?" Gwaine asked with confusion.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Merlin said—"

"Of course, 'Merlin said,'" Gwaine quoted, and shook his head. "Forget that. I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He put an arm out and stepped in front of his king. His gaze swept forward and focused on the Caerleon warrior, resolve strengthening. "This is my fight. Don't interfere."

Rewind and you'd see a pretty similar scene playing out with a similar group of people. Gwaine was involved, and his tune wasn't very different.

"Stay with Merlin, Ari," he was saying sternly, "we didn't break you out of the Fortress of Servitude to get captured in Idirsholas."

"I'd feel better if you'd let us nearby, at least," Merlin argued back.

Gwaine shook his head, then wiggled his fingers in their symbol for magic. "No mending, mate. I'll fix things up myself."

Ari huffed and stomped and basically threw a minor tantrum as Gwaine journeyed further into the ruins. When he had blended with the morning fog she pouted and crossed her arms. "You know what I hate?"

Merlin raised a brow but didn't bother talking. He was well aware of her mile-a-minute mouth.

"Big brothers. They think they know what's best for you, but they don't know anything about you!" She stubbed her toes at some snow, "I grew up fine without him, you know. But if he was always going to come back he should never have left me in the first place, how do you think that made me feel? Did he ever tell you that when he was twelve…" and thar she blew.

Merlin felt his attention drifting, and he didn't even feel that guilty about it. Perhaps he should have, considering she was recently orphaned, but in this world Ari was lucky to have family that cared about her freedom. She'd realize that in time.

As it was, his guilt was still very preoccupied with the problem of Morgana. Had the 'drop of poison' in her life been the hemlock as the knights of Medhir attacked, or the less tangible lie she'd read on his face that night she'd finally admitted to having magic? Had it been he accidentally leading troops to the Druids' camp, causing the peaceful people to die in front of her eyes, or the many other injustices of Uther?

He could count the mistakes on hands and feet, but did that really mean he was the one who had soured her fate? If he believed that, then he'd have to believe he alone shaped Arthur's, Gwen's, Gwaine's and everyone else's lives in ways out of their control, and really, that was preposterous. Not so long ago he'd shook Arthur's hand and realized peace in Albion rested equally on both of their shoulders.

The Once and Future King's destiny depended on Arthur, as Emrys' hinged on Merlin, and Morgana's her own. Besides, regardless of his actions, the Princess Morgana would very likely have always ended in the arms of Morgause.

"Are you coming or not?"

He shook himself to the present and very quickly realized Ari was not where he'd left her. "Wha?" he trailed as he spun on his heel, finding her crawling up a rickety platform for a vantage point along the wall. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" She called back down, then beckoned him after her. "I can't make the jump without you."

His eyes traced her route, seeing the wide hole in the walkway and then the opposite side that looked near to crumbling. "No way, are you crazy?"

"Runs in the family," she said flippantly.

As she got to her feet and began to judge the gap, he hurried after her with a groan. Did everyone he knew have to be this headstrong? Though he couldn't fault her - this is exactly something he would have done had she not been around.

And that, there, gave him a dangerous idea that he toyed with all through their fragmented journey on the upper levels of the fortress.

Because, beneath the tyranny and paranoia of Queen Morgana, there may have been a worthwhile idea on how to implement magical freedom. She had grown up knowing statecraft, and she may have had a plan.

Spirits, was asking for it worth the treason?

"I hear voices," Ari whispered, and tugged at his sleeve to hide him from sight. She slid upwards until her wide eyes and the bridge of her nose rose above their low wall, and as Merlin stared past her to the keep and the sheer cliff beyond, she looked down on a group of red-cloaked men in the ruins. "Knights, I think."

Merlin looked too. "Oh, Arthur's here," he said pleasantly.

"He's more handsome than I remember," she answered. Arthur charged forward with Leon in tow, shouting at Beddler, and then at Gwaine. In the rear Percival lay a hand on Elyan as shock rippled through the knight, and Ari's eyes never left them.

"That's not Arthur," Merlin teased. "That's Percival." He pointed out Arthur in the crowd and corrected her.

"He's a bit short for a king, isn't he?"

"You're going to fit right in at Camelot."

Merlin grinned that endearing smile that pulled his eyes into half-moons, but Ari still felt skeptical. This was the 'family' Gwaine had waxed on about? The one that he'd left his blood-family for? They didn't seem so great.

Then Gwaine stepped fluidly in front of the king and her attention snapped to them. "This is my fight," he called with a maturity she was still getting used to. "Don't interfere."

"So the coward finally shows his face," Beddler sneered.

Gwaine glowered and sliced Galatine through the mist, dew drops gathering on the steel. "A bottom-feeding sewer fish like you isn't worth my attention."

"Spare me your attention," he snorted, "but your decapitated head will have no choice but to stare after my axe."

Gwaine shifted his stance one pace forward and replied with a toss of his hair, "Unfortunately, mate, carrying around my head won't make your face any prettier."

"But it may make me richer," he remarked. "Someone would finally put your mouth to good use."

Gwaine praised that comeback with a low whistle. It had shocked him just enough to make him pause, and he needed a moment to think. "Such a virtuous way to treat your enemies. Tell me, did you borrow your honor from a pig sty?"

Beddler countered with a twist upon his horse. "And what of your honor? Or is there none in a family of debtors and thieves?"

Gwaine glanced back at the others as if he were puzzling over something. "It's treason to call the King of Camelot a thief, right?" He rolled his head back forward and grinned darkly. "These are my brothers, I'd cut the blood out of body for them, and I'd know no greater honor. I think the 'family' you're referring to is Aranna - my mother in Caerleon."

"She owes me a debt," Beddler spit, "a great one."

Galatine went to Gwaine's throat and tugged out the dragon-scale necklace ending in his father's seal. "Then, how fortunate for you, that she's dead. Her entire manor is waiting for you to claim it." His hand twisted and the sword split the chord. The ring settled into place on the flat of the blade, and Gwaine quirked a brow as he extended the one claim to his family name towards Beddler. "The long lost heir, finally returning to claim his birthright."

The warrior was dubious. "Your sister still lives there."

"All dead," Gwaine said, "a bit of an annoying bloodline anyway." He jounced the seal into the air, noting that Beddler's helm definitely shifted to follow it. "Come and get it," he taunted. "A noble name, and only a few red stains to clean from the cobblestones."

Beddler hesitated, and his axe partially lowered. "Deal. For your manor, the debt is wiped."

"Pleasure doing business," Gwaine sneered.

The halberd shifted defensively, and with a nudge of his ankles Beddler prodded his horse forward. Gradually the two men approached battle distance, and then grew close enough for their blades to cross. Beddler's halberd blocked his body from attack, and Gwaine's extended sword could sweep fast enough to parry any thrust. Beddler's opposite hand released the reins and stretched for the ring.

And then he spoke, but just a hair too early. "I hear the heir has his father's sword."

A flash of movement - Gwaine tenses, Beddler dives - and his axe comes down so the curl of it locks against Galatine.

The seal is gone before Gwaine can react, but in anticipation of Beddler using the strength of his height to further advantage, Gwaine ducks. His grip loosens on his pommel so he can swivel beneath the blade. He curls to his feet beneath the horse and from this angle can slide his blade free, and it's only a half second more before he can plunge it into the animal's guts, but the axe comes careening down towards him and Gwaine has to dodge.

From the corner of his eye he sees the other knights readying to attack and he shouts, "It's my fight!"

He backpedals, and along the way to full height he palms a fist-sized chunk of rubble. He knows he's taking himself straight for the worst position possible - between a keep and a charging horse - but he's used to fighting with his back against the wall. It's a little like hustling - make everyone think you're weak, and then hit them hard.

The sun begins to burn away the fog, and in the dissipating wisps Beddler's axe raises in all out attack. Then forward he rides in streaking fabric and tangling hair. The streamer atop Beddler's helm whips in artificial wind, and the horse's eyes are large and black and focused on a spot to Gwaine's right.

And that tell is enough. For Gwaine, it's blatantly obvious exactly how Beddler plans to strike.

The warrior closes in, Gwaine only shields his left side and Beddler thinks he's won. When he's close enough for the final blow he tugs the reigns to the side, it turns the horse's head just slight enough, and Gwaine throws.

The chunk of ruin sails through the air and there is just a fraction of time for Beddler to realize the trick. So what, Gwaine thinks, if I fight dirty? He grins, and he swears he sees Beddler's body go slack with acceptance, then the rock slams into the horse's snout.

It veers sharp, Gwaine leaps, and it stumbles over its own legs. Both it and rider slam into the old stones of the keep, and then everyone goes silent.

They had heard a whoosh of sound like dirt skidding away, and as Beddler groaned and rolled to his knees, a loud pop resounded over them all. With the lull, they all heed to the sound of a large rock cracking in a series of successively faster snaps until they are graced with a boom and echoing thuds as it tumbles down over the cliff.

It's a big one; one that merged the base of the keep with the cliff face itself, and Merlin and Ari watched it go with trepidation.

"That's preposterous," Merlin said in the beats of silence that followed, only to be shocked double as a second rock fell. This time it came forward into their clearing, scaring Beddler's horse so badly that it scrabbled to stand only to fall again.

"Impossible!" The warrior echoed, focusing his attention on his horse even as his halberd lay unused. At Gwaine he threw another insult. "You're a cheat."

Gwaine scoffed, "I'm not a sorcerer."

The animal began to calm so Beddler's focus swung for the top of the keep, and without the fog it spied Merlin blinking over one of the surrounding walls. He pointed, "Then what is he, then, but your ace hiding in the ruins?"

Merlin put a hand on Ari's head and shoved her lower on the wall. He'd rather not Ari, who was obviously much better at staying hidden, get pulled into this. If Beddler saw her alive he may not believe Aranna was dead too.

Gwaine blinked at him owlishly, "I've never seen that man before in my life."

Beddler glowered at Merlin, "Dare you throw a boulder at my horse?"

For once I've just been minding my own business, Merlin thought, then sighed. He had no gift of foresight, but he already knew there were a lot of jokes at his expense on the horizon. Prat-tastic.

"Yes," he bellowed, "it was I!" Then, because he looked silly yelling that while kneeling, he stood to his feet.

Total silence. Then Elyan, with the catchable sort of terror: "Oh no, the evil sorcerer of Idirsholas!"

Arthur, mortified, swung his head back and groaned. Merlin appended that with a feeble "Rah!" and a fist shake.

"Stay back, sorcerer!" Percival yelled.

"You stay back!" Merlin yelled, channeling a bit of Dragoon the Great. "This is my castle, for me only!" An impish glee was shining in Gwaine's eyes, and Merlin had half a mind to go over there and smack him. "Leave, or I'll bring the keep down on your head!"

And of course, because all of Merlin's luck was bound together with his misfortune, the tower creaked ominously.

A few of the knights looked up warily, but from his vantage point he could see a subtle tilt in the castle that was anything but steady. "Now!" He yelled. "Leave, now!"

Gwaine sheathed his sword in one smooth motion. To Beddler he said, "Word from the wise, mate," he had to pause as Merlin urged them on with evil cackling, "you're no match for him."

A spill of stones pushed them all into a sprint, Arthur pausing only to smack Gwaine on the back of the head. Merlin kept up his maniacal laughter until Beddler had mounted his horse and vaulted down a separate path, then coughed and grasped blindly for Ari's shoulder. Turns out his throat wasn't made to be evil.

"Time to go?" She said fearfully, eyeing the keep. He nodded, and she darted forward, leading the way back to the horses with the tower rumbling behind them.

Mostly she kept in sight of her brother and the other knights down below, though she and Merlin steadily fell further behind. While she and Merlin were forced to pause and talk through the safest route with quick jabs of their fingers, the knights moved in tandem, seamlessly, as if they could read each other's minds. They knew each other that well.

In the final clearing, she caught relief in their faces when she and Merlin appeared. Though, that was overshadowed soon after with interest at her, and a mix of things at Merlin. Arthur's anger won out, because as soon as they were within arm's reach, the king had pinched Merlin's earlobe between two fingers and started reaming him out.

She had been worried until he ruffled Merlin's hair and gruffly said, "Idiot."

And then, as they had leapt onto the horses, she saw each of the knights subtly check on their companions. They did so out of care rather than self-preservation, and the love between them made tears burn into her eyes.

She pressed her face into Gwaine's back and listened to the thunder of stones crashing atop the fortress and cliffs below, echoed by the feeling of the horses' hooves pounding into the ground. She understood now.

Nearby, someone tightened a strap on Gwaine's saddle and then pounded him on the shoulder as both man laughed giddily. This was trust, and acceptance, and so many other things she'd forgotten to expect from people.

This, as her brother had said, was family.

Arthur,

At no extra cost to your royal pratness, Gwaine and I are going to track down angry axe-guy. I know you're Mr. Courageous or Outrageous or something, but it wouldn't do for the king of Camelot to get caught in a trap. You get caught in your doublet half the time, and that's embarrassing enough.

And if you're fantasizing about brushing off the stocks, just remember that surveillance is boring and I'm probably cold. Nothing to be jealous over, except, well, I'm having much more fun with Galatine. It's much longer and harder than Excalibur.

Gossip later,
Merlin

After finishing his recitation, Arthur rolled up the paper and started an aggressive drumbeat on Merlin's head.

"You have to admit that Merlin is a good liar, sire. He tricked you."

"I am well aware that when Merlin is lying to me, ninety percent of what comes out of his mouth is complete nonsense."

"I prefer to call it distraction."

"I prefer to call it a side effect of a shrunken brain." Arthur stopped his tapping and stuffed the paper into a pocket. "Not catching you at it was a minor lapse in judgement. Don't get cocky. It won't happen again."

A clatter of mugs landed before them, amber liquid sloshing out onto the Rising Sun's well worn wooden table. This night, days after the events in Idirsholas, marked Gwaine's first punishment.

Unanimous decision dictated that, for the first of four separate disciplinary actions, Gwaine would have to pay for all the ale.

Despite this, though, he had a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm not so sure about that, Arthur. Beddler was very convinced Merlin was a sorcerer."

"Must be blind," Arthur snorted. "Even I can act more convincingly magical."

Merlin scoffed, "Let's see it, then."

Arthur stood immediately, sipping at his beer and eyeing the other patrons of the tavern. A smarmy smile took him in increments, but by the end of it he had folded back into his chair and leaned into Merlin's face. "Oh I'll show you, but you won't know when I'm showing you. The act will be so good, you won't even know it's me."

"You can't just wait for the next sorcerer attack," Elyan said, "and pretend that was you."

"Before winter's out, then," Arthur agreed. "Nothing ever happens in winter."

"I wait with bated breath," Merlin grinned.

Arthur leaned back, looking pleased with himself. "You've a lot to look forward to. The Reeve has Ari on the kitchen staff now, on my lengthy recommendation. It's only a matter of time before she douses you in dinner again."

Leon cocked his head. "I thought Gwen would take her as a handmaiden, or a lady-in-waiting?"

"Gwen said she'd have to earn it," Gwaine replied, "and I agree with her."

"Plus," Percival drily cut in, "no lady-in-waiting could have Gwaine as a brother. Too much scandal."

Gwaine laughed, "That reputation I worked hard to earn."

"Am I to understand," Leon said, "that you've planned for your current noble house to be represented by," he paused, raised a brow, "notches on a bedpost?"

"I see why you're the Captain of the Guard," Gwaine replied, "you're a genius."

Elyan grinned, "I'll have it etched on a competition quality shield by next week."

"Please," Arthur groaned, "just make it subtle."

"Not all of us can have golden dragons."

"Your old house had nothing to do with dragons?" Merlin questioned, thinking of the dragonscale that adorned Gwaine's former necklace.

"It had to do with a dragon," Gwaine amended. He sent a silent apology Merlin's way, knowing that Merlin had confessed his worry over their extinction. He couldn't change what his ancestors had done, though. "A dead, green dragon."

The knights commented, phrases like, 'well, it better be dead' or 'guess you have no chance of living up to that', but Gwaine and Merlin's gazes had locked.

"I hate the idea of having a name I didn't earn, anyways. I'm glad to be rid of it."

Merlin smiled benignly, "I'd say you've earned a better one here in Camelot, notches and all."

Gwaine agreed, proud of almost every moment he'd spent as a knight of Camelot. "Beddler can take the title of Green Knight. We don't need names like that here."

He looked round at the other knights, proud to have known them as well, but his gaze ended again on Merlin. Because, as much as this was a scene in a tavern like many other, Merlin's bearing hinted that this blind status quo would not last.

As Merlin had insinuated in the forest - change was coming.

Footnotes:

(1) Ari is Gwaine's younger sister, (The Betas, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight).
(2) Galatine is Gwaine's sword from legend, and I officially named it awhile back (Mouthful of Soap).
(3) The abandoned Fortress of Idirsholas is a real location from canon - featured in the episode Fires of Idirsholas with the Knights of Medhir and the infamous hemlock poisoning.
(4) Again, Beddler is a name I edited from Bredbeddle - one of the fake names the Green Knight gives in poems.

Author's Note:

Tis been a while. On the bright side, the time of year in the story now matches closely to real life.

Thanks to my beta Linorien for helping me brainstorm this chapter awhile back when I was really clueless, brainstorming is the best, and here is my official congratulations on completing the challenge of NaNoWriMo! Thanks also to my lovely ladies Jewelsmg and dmarie1184 for being great friends across vast spaces. I appreciate all three of these ladies for letting silly me into their lives. And to all of you reviewers, I love every message I get. I reread those reviews and they are like jolts of inspiration.

The last line about change - the group of finale chapters is coming not next chapter, but the chapters after. Next chapter I'm having a winter montage to get us through the end of February story-wise. It's going to be magic heavy because I miss Merlin and magic. It's also going to include recommendations / requests, and, because I lost a race, I have to include a particular strange word. If there's anything else you guys would like to sneak in before the finale, tell me :)

Next time: Rocky's Steps. Merlin dives into a minor form of magic, and it takes him to the dragons, the druids, and a dark witch.