The warlock considered his luck when it came to people who had names who began with the letter "G." Gaius. Gwaine. George. He would have to pay attention in the future to anyone with a "G" name and keep his guard up. Not that they were bad people or that they had done anything terrible other than support him, but he was tired of being caught off guard. He loved being loved, but he didn't want to be so protected that he couldn't do his job. He didn't confine Arthur to his room trying to keep him alive – although it would simplify matters.

Gaius, was family. A guide. An anchor. He also taught Merlin how to support himself. He helped Merlin keep focused on his purpose. He kept him from losing heart. He was there for him when all seemed lost. He helped him figure out when he needed to use magic and when he needed to trust his destiny. He also taught him that sometimes he just needed to know when to seek help. Swallowing his pride and going to the great dragon after they had the falling out was difficult, but he did it. He wouldn't have if it wasn't for Gaius. There was so much Merlin wouldn't have done, if it wasn't for Gaius. Merlin owed the man so much. Gaius was everything to him and yet, he was also the one that Merlin lied to the most – in the beginning. It was a reflex. Magic wasn't allowed, ever. Any time he did magic, he had to lie about it. Even if he did the right thing, he automatically lied. Gaius had a hard time complimenting him or even telling him that he was proud of him, because Merlin would deny having anything to do with the magical solution. It had been so difficult for both of them for the longest time. Gaius, he wasn't Merlin's father, but he loved him very much. He could be over protective. All in all, Merlin was grateful to have him.

Gwaine was his best friend and in a way, his champion. If Merlin needed a defender, it was Gwaine who defended him. When the two crystal wearing imposters came to try to kill Arthur in the melee, it was Gwaine who had defended Merlin. They had been throwing knives at Merlin. Gwaine stepped in and history was made. From that moment on, Gwaine was the one that Merlin looked to for help first- even though Lancelot knew about his magic. It was just natural that it had to be Gwaine. Arthur would save his life. Arthur was his other side. Arthur in many ways would understand him as no other person could, but Gwaine – Gwaine was Gwaine. Merlin needed him.

And now, George. George. Perfect George. Oh by the Gods, what had happened just a few moments ago? He saw Merlin perform magic and he hadn't batted an eye. George just – automatically accepted Merlin without an explanation. He even told Merlin that to trust him. Merlin's brain nearly melted. George treated Merlin like a Lord. No, he treated him like he would Arthur. No. He treated Merlin better than he treated Arthur. He had been – warmer in his conduct. Thoughtful, even. He brought him clothes from the servants and had Arthur pay for them, crafty little bugger. There was more to George than Merlin suspected, but he had no time to think about the other manservant right now. He had to much to do and even though Gaius was out helping a woman deliver a baby, and even though that could take all night, Merlin wasn't keen on the idea of wasting any time.

Merlin was restless. He had been feeling restless. He hadn't been attending Arthur. He had been kept in his room. He had been physically bound and being able to move freely was – well – welcome.

Trying to keep George out of his mind, Merlin padded his way through the castle like any other cat, as if he owned the place. He preferred this form to the form of the rat when it came to getting somewhere fast. No one thought much of a cat. However rats were better for lengthy spying as they were practically invisible and easy to occupy small spaces. Merlin even wove his slender body through legs, not bothering to worry who they belonged to or what was going on around him. No one noticed the black cat even when he slunk through the kitchens to follow the servants pathway. He padded purposefully down a flight of stairs right past a set of guards and swished his tail lazily at them without even stopping. Thanks to the weather the windows and doors were closed, but a little bit of magic would go a long way in this instance. He wandered down a long hallway on the first floor to an unused room that was usually reserved for visitors. A flash of gold, a flick of the tail, and in he went.

His nose twitched. The room stank like dust and dried flowers. He would have to do something about it before it was assigned to anyone. Who ever was supposed to clean this room had neglected their duties, which was not uncommon. Sometimes servants just skipped unnecessary things when work piled up. Prioritizing was something they all were guilty of and if Merlin could fix it without getting anyone in trouble, he would. It was an ugly room anyway, decorated in a faded brown and some kind of vomit inspired pink. Uther was guilty of having all his taste in his mouth. The smell was hideous and it made his stomach turn. Merlin sneezed, but he had little time to spend on unpleasant feelings. With golden eyes, the window unlatched and swung open. His lithe body made the jump to the sill easily and his thoughts turned only to dragons and his curiosities as he slipped into the elements.

Cats aren't really made for navigating in deep snow. The snow was definitely deeper than Merlin was tall, so he tried bouncing his way through it. He was having a terrible time. Mentally he called out for his dragons to be patient. He called to them and said that he was coming to them. He cursed the snow and headed for the gates. The wind savagely blew, effectively obscuring his vision. However the warlock would not be denied – as always he found a way with the help of a little magic.

Pubs were great. Gwaine loved pubs. Everyone knew that Gwaine loved pubs. He loved dragging people to pubs. The noise was wonderful. The singing, the bragging, and the lying. The alcoholic spinning your head to the point where it was possible to believe that the skinny kid across the bar could actually bed every woman in the down town area or that the elderly man with one leg had been a legendary dancer and acrobat in his time. It was all good fun. Everyone was a hero, a rogue and everyone was a fool – and it was fantastic. He had spent a good amount of coin in pubs, but tonight the drinks were free and it had been so easy getting Elyan completely sloshed. He had watched with grand amusement as a barmaid buried the gentle knight's fading consciousness into her ample bosom.

There was only one person who made him feel like he was at a pub when he was sober and that was Merlin – his friend was all things, but his friend was also a very busy warlock. Gwaine sighed and tried to stay focused on the task at hand. It was important that he did not mess this up. A future hung in the balance!

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Mae, who was in Gwaine's opinion exactly what Elyan needed to become a better man. She was sweet and honest. Her hair was like spun gold and her heart was richer than the vaults of Camelot.

Gwaine explained to her that Elyan might not be alright at all. He told her with all sincerity that Gwen was Elyan's sister and that the poor man was heart broken with his only family banished from Camelot. He told Mae that Elyan was malnourished, cut off from the milk of human kindness for all his bonds had been cut and even though he had good friends – it just wasn't the same. It was hard to love a fellow knight like a brother for the dangers they face might rob them of that brother. The mourning might destroy their ability to focus. To fight. Oh, it was a tragic existence. Needless to say, by the time Gwaine was done, Elyan's face was being held tightly pressed into the softness of an otherwise untouchable barmaid, an enviable place by many. Mae was determined to care for the man no matter how proud he was. Gwaine warned her that Elyan was a private man. He was shy. He might even resist. Mae's innocent blue eyes were ablaze with determination as she drug the focus of her new found adoration out of the pub and up the back stairs.

"He won't thank you for that," chuckled Leon clapping Gwaine on the shoulder.

Gwaine smiled roguishly with numbed lips, he didn't care if Elyan was grateful. Mae would be good for him. He knew her well and had admired how she deflected all advances on her person. She was kind, but firm to the patrons. She indulged Gwaine's flirtations, but did not encourage them. At first, he had intended to attach her to Merlin – but after finding out that Merlin had magic – he would have to find someone more exotic for the boy. Preferably someone with the same talent.

"Doesn't matter if he thanks me. He doesn't know what he needs. He's alone now. He's not the type who does well when he's alone," slurred the handsome knight. He slung an arm over Leon's shoulder and laughed a little, "With a little luck, he won't put up much of a struggle. Mae won't tolerate it anyway. She's a good lass, did you see her..."

"Hard to miss!" admitted Leon cutting off Gwaine before he had a chance to detail her physical attributes.

"How about you?" asked Leon.

"Me?"

Leon smiled sadly, "You. You're alone. Why don't you look for a more permanent relationship? You could have had Mae if you tried. If you could land her for someone else, you could have found a way to have her for yourself."

"Ah, that," the handsome smile faltered a little. Gwaine took a long drink from his tankard and sighed as he swayed a little in the familiar feeling of alcoholic anesthetizing. He traced the top lip of his tankard delicately with his forefinger and then tilted his head heavily to one side. "Leon, have you ever thought about what it would be like to go out there... into that... with someone waiting for you at home? Some people can do it. Some knights like to, escape a nag. They get themselves a nag, the kind that eat you alive like moths eat trousers. Bollocks exposed all the time, freezing or burning in the sun. Some need to run from that."

"Yeah and what's your point?" asked Leon.

"I'd love it," declared the charming knight.

Leon laughed.

"Honestly, I couldn't do this," admitted Gwaine his voice went up a little when he had said 'this'. He started to chuckle weakly before he started his confession, "I wouldn't mind the nagging. Expose my bullocks to the world! Wave em in the wind! And sure, maybe I might even have to give up drinking. For me to have someone, to give myself to... Leon, mate, listen. Nothing short of irony in a dress is going to turn my head. She has got to be a total man eater. Some people are cut out for it, you know. I can't. I'd be happy. It would be, my friend, a terrible thing. So you see, I could never do it. I'd cease to be..me, I think. I doubt that someone that magnificent exists," Gwaine smiled sadly as Leon doubled over in laughter proclaiming Gwaine to be a terrible man. It didn't matter to Gwaine if he was a terrible man or a good man when it came to love.

Love would either come to him or it wouldn't. He didn't want to be like his father. He didn't want to die and leave someone broke and in need with mouths to feed. He didn't want leave a void. His father hadn't even left a memory and the lack of a memory had instilled in Gwaine ideals that made the knight wonder if he would even live up to his own expectations of himself.

"You know, despite the storm the party rages on!" the barkeep bragged waving a tankard. It was true. The citizens kept each other company in the pubs, sharing firewood. They kept each other warm. Mead filled their bellies as well as bread. Stews were watered down into soups. Grains were laced in to expand in bellies to give the feeling of fullness.

Not many people went home, instead they used the inns and pubs as shelters. It was Arthur's idea. The drinking kept people distracted and entertained. Wood went further. Only the knights, servants, and members of the army actually went back to their barracks. Nobles were starting to share each other's company more and more lately. It kept Aggravaine away from their tables and when he invaded anyway, it kept him from speaking openly.

Until something could be done about the storm, there was nothing that could be done except ration what they could. However right now, there was no need to incite panic. For now, it was better to encourage the people to use the storm as an excuse to seek enjoyment at the expense of the crown. Drinks were on the Pendragons after all.

"My tankard is empty," said Gwaine sadly.

"Not for long!" exclaimed the cheerful barkeep handing him a full tankard.

Leon hiccuped.

"You alright, mate?"

"Yeah."

He didn't look alright. Gwaine's head was swimming, but it didn't matter. It was all about the magic of the pub! "You want to play cards?"

"No money," Leon said sadly.

Gwaine chuckled, "We'll play for clothes, ok? If you lose, I'll give yours to Merlin. If I lose, you give mine to Merlin, since his got ruined. Actually, I have a brilliant idea." Gwaine stood on the bar, swaying dangerously, "We're going to play cards for cards, four tables of clothes, I mean cards. All clothes lost will go to Arthur's manservant, Merlin, who got blown out of his by this weather beastie. We all love Merlin and if you don't love Merlin - you should! So how about it? If you win, you are a GOD of cards, if you lose – we know you've got bullocks. So. Lets do this!"

Players filed into chairs at the indicated tables, all emboldened. Even a few women sat down.

This was going to be interesting. Gwaine thanked the God's for his luck as he sat down at a table that not only had Leon, a beautiful young perky redhead nameless to him so far but she smiled widely at him with a flush to her cheeks, and a young fellow who was scrawny – and had a look of recklessness about him. People gathered around. Side bets were being placed. A sense of lawlessness was growing, but the fun factor was increasing hand over fist!

It was good to be alive.