How Many

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A strange light flickering across the wall of her and Arthur's bed chamber was what woke Gwen, but it was the sound of something coming up Merlin's wide gravel path (drive, she corrected automatically) that pulled her out of bed. Gracefully disentangling herself from Arthur's embrace, she padded silently to the window and pushed aside the light, lacy curtain.

Outside the darkness was only relieved by the lamp near Merlin's front door, casting its odd bluish light over the warlock himself as he strode quickly to the strange carriage that had appeared. Gwen looked on, biting her lip in puzzlement as she watched a young woman with an agitated look carefully lift a large bundle of goods out of the back part of the carriage (no, a car, it's a car) and clutch it to her chest as she walked over to Merlin, who met her half way. Gwen watched as Merlin nodded reassuringly to the woman and told her something in hushed tones that Gwen could not make out. With one last look at the bundle, the woman then placed it tenderly in Merlin's arms and Gwen could have sworn she was crying as she opened the door to the passenger side of the carriage… car… and got in. Merlin, shifting the bundle to his left arm, waved awkwardly to the woman and to the man behind the wheel and then the carriage… car… backed out and drove off.

Gwen glanced at the clock on her night table. 2:12. What in the world is Merlin having dropped off at two in the morning? she wondered. She considered the possibility it had something to do with magic - Merlin's behind the scenes activities hardly seemed less mysterious than they had in their Camelot days, though she supposed that was only because she hadn't known what was going on then - but there had been something about that woman's movements, something about how she had held her bundle…

Gwen made her way downstairs and, in the homey light of the kitchen, her suspicions were confirmed. A smile lit her face. For there Merlin stood, rocking a baby in his arms and singing a lullaby under his breath.

"Merlin?" Gwen whispered as softly as she could, loathe to disturb the scene in front of her.

Merlin turned around. "Oh, hello, Gwen. What are you doing up? We didn't wake you, did we?"

"I'm afraid so," Gwen said, coming over to peer more closely at the sleeping child in her friend's arms, "but I don't mind a bit."

"Ah, Charlie, you lady-killer," Merlin chuckled at the baby, "Pulling them right out of their beds now! Heaven help the female population when you hit manhood."

"Who is he, Merlin?" Gwen asked, eyes still locked on the infant.

"Gwen, meet Charlie Parkhurst. Charlie, meet Guinevere, Queen of all the Britons."

Guinevere, Queen of all the Britons, snorted and smacked Merlin on the arm. "I'm pleased to meet you, Charlie Parkhurst," she told the sleeping baby. "But what's this all about, Merlin? Why is he here?"

"He belongs to my friends Susan and Hugh. Susan just got word her parents were in an accident while on holiday in France. She and Hugh are flying there tonight. They asked me if I could watch Charlie until Hugh's mum can get down here from Yorkshire."

"Oh, that's sweet of you. I hope your friend's parents will be all right."

"I hope so too. But till Granny comes, looks like your stuck with good old Martin, Charlie my lad. Aren't you, buddy? Yes you are!"

Gwen smiled again as she listened to Merlin's easy tone as he soothed the oblivious Charlie, but an inexplicable sadness began to burrow itself right around her heart. Perhaps it was a touch of guilt; hearing Merlin refer to himself as Martin, holding the child of friends the rest of them hadn't even known he'd had, made her realize that she'd never really considered the fact that Merlin had a life apart from them. He must have had friends before this, yet no one ever seemed to drop by. Oh, he'd occasionally talk to people on his far-speaking glass… mobile phone… but his life seemed so wrapped up in them. He fed them, clothed them, taught them, entertained them, and no doubt protected them, but what did he do for himself? Why did he not go out and meet with friends? Why was he not courting some lucky maid?

"Would you like to hold him?" Merlin asked, breaking Gwen out of her reverie. "I need to unpack some of his things."

"I'd love to. That is, if you're certain he won't fuss. He doesn't know me, after all."

"No, he's usually all right with strangers. Besides, he's dead to the world right now and Susan says he generally sleeps like the proverbial log."

Gwen laughed and reached out her arms eagerly. "All right then, hand the little charmer over."

And so the two friends moved into the living room and there they sat up till morning, waiting for Susan's mother-in-law to arrive and talking in a way they hadn't since before Gwen had fallen in love with Arthur. Charlie proved to be even more charming when he woke up close to six with a buoyant baby grin despite his being in a strange place. And by the time Arthur, Gaius and the knights finally roused themselves, Gwen had been thoroughly entranced by little Charlie's steady stream of smiles, giggles and jolly prattle.

Merlin and Gwen laughed till their sides hurt at the expression that crossed Arthur's face at the sight of her holding a baby.

"What… what is that?" the completely flummoxed monarch of Albion demanded.

"A baby, prat," Merlin informed him. "I know your upbringing was somewhat sheltered, but surely you've seen a tiny human before."

"But… but where did it come from?"

"Fairies left it on the doorstep for Gwaine," Merlin told them with an utterly straight face, causing Gwaine to yelp in panic.

"He's kidding, Gwaine," Gwen reassured the knight, while Charlie sat on her lap, clapping his tiny hands as Merlin made faces at him. "Merlin's just watching him for a friend."

Gwaine dropped a shaky hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Gods, mate, don't frighten me like that!" he said, but then immediately his mind turned to the next thing: breakfast. "Can we have eggs today, Merlin?"

Merlin and Gwen looked at each other and then snickered. "Keep watch over Charlie for me, would you Gwen? I'm afraid to let this lot fend for themselves when it comes to the stove."

"Of course, Merlin. It would be my pleasure."

As Merlin followed Gwaine and most of the others into the kitchen, Arthur sat down on the sofa beside her, a different look on his face than the sputtering shock he'd displayed upon first seeing her with the child. Gwen thought he looked almost wistful.

"He's a very handsome little lad," Arthur said, chucking his finger under the baby's chin. Charlie laughed in response and tried to grab the finger. Arthur grinned widely at his antics.

"Yes, indeed he is," Gwen agreed.

Arthur swallowed harshly. "I…"

"I know, Arthur," Gwen whispered, her voice breaking. "I wish it too."

They sat in silence for some time, each considering what might have been, until Gwen changed the subject by saying, "You know, Merlin is very good with him."

"Merlin? Well, I suppose I can see that. As hard as it is to picture the idiot as being capable, he does have the mind of a child to make up for it."

Gwen knew what Arthur was trying to do, but his customary teasing of Merlin seemed hollow to her, and perhaps to him as well, going by the look in his eyes. Merlin had proved to be stunningly capable, both in the past and now, and hinting otherwise only served to confront her with how blind they had all been. But more than that, it was that - despite the joy the warlock appeared to get being around Charlie - Merlin was no longer the light-hearted boy they had once known, and comparing him to that image made the painful truth of it strike her heart all the harder.

But it was later, when she and Arthur had followed Merlin into his bedroom so they could watch as he laid Charlie on the bed to get him dressed and Arthur had casually asked, "How come you never had children, Merlin?" that Gwen's sorrow almost became too much.

Because from the way Merlin's posture tightened ever so imperceptibly, the slight shudder that ran along his jawline, the quick way he diverted his King from the question, Gwen knew that Arthur had got it so very wrong.

Gwen had only been thinking about what they didn't know about Merlin in this life, but that was ridiculous. Merlin was over fifteen hundred years old.

Surely, in all that time, there would have been…

A half an hour later, after Merlin had passed Charlie over to his grandmother, Gwen came up behind Merlin where was sitting on the step and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Oh, my dear, dear, friend," she whispered. She kissed the top of his head, her tears falling into his hair. "How many were there?"

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Once again, my thanks to all my readers and reviewers. You are all too kind.