Chapter Four
Hi, everyone!
Life has been hectic, and this chapter was long, so it took a while. But I had a lot of fun with it on the way!
Special thanks to Miss Elanious for the lovely review! And thanks to the rest who read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Merlin walked jauntily out of his bedroom early the next morning to find Everard at the table, stuffing bread and chicken from a plate in front of him into his mouth at a frantic rate. Apparently hearing Merlin's entrance, the boy whipped around, nearly choking on his food and reaching for his table knife.
At the embarrassed look on Everard's face upon realizing his mistake, Merlin laughed out loud. After a few moments of swallowing and coughing, Everard's beet red face relaxed into a sheepish smile. "Sorry." he muttered.
"That's okay." Merlin looked over at Elwin; he was still asleep. So he sat down next to Everard. He might as well be certain that this boy knew about his magic before he took any drastic measures to ensure Arthur didn't find out. First, though, he'd have to gain the boy's trust. "How's your brother?"
"He's all right. That physician, went out a few minutes ago to see another patient, but Elwin was awake then and Gaius said he was okay." Everard gazed worriedly at his brother for a moment. "He wasn't really hungry, but some servant brought this for me." His gaze moved to Merlin. "You're a servant, aren't you?"
"Manservant to King Arthur himself, yes." Merlin replied with a smile.
"Must be quite a hard job." Everard said lightly, returning his attention to what remained of his breakfast. A few moment later, he asked offhandedly, "Does your master know that you have magic?"
Merlin nearly had a heart attack. They boy knew! Of course, Merlin had thought so already, as he'd told Gaius the night before…
"What if he tells Arthur?"
"If he noticed your magic, Merlin, why did he say nothing to the knights that evening? Or all of today when he was in their company?"
"He was concerned for his brother! He didn't even bother looking after himself; what if he just forgot what he saw? And remembers it when he speaks with Arthur?"
Merlin's face must have betrayed his thoughts, for Everard said quickly, "I'm not going to tell anyone."
The warlock took a deep breath. "I want to believe that." The safety of his secret depended on trust, and he'd only met this boy a couple days before.
"Then why don't you?" Everard's brown eyes caught Merlin in a strangely compelling stare.
Scratching his head to gain a little time, Merlin finally said, "It's hard…knowing whom to trust."
Everard nodded. "I understand that." He popped a handful of grapes into his mouth. After a minute of thoughtful chewing, he said quietly, "Where I come from, they don't chop someone's head off just because he has magic."
Merlin, intrigued to say in the least, was about to press the boy for more information when the door burst open and Sir Gwaine stumbled in.
"Hullo, Gwaine!" Merlin said cheerfully, but then he noticed how pale the knight was, how shadowed his eyes were, and how shaky he seemed on his feet. A hangover? Not by a long shot. For one thing he wasn't squinting against the light streaming in through the windows. He eyes were wide; a little too much so.
"Is Gaius in?" Gwaine asked shortly. Merlin couldn't help but notice that the knight's eyes were looking at anything and everything but himself and Everard.
"No, he went out; can I help?" Merlin asked, slightly anxious. It really wasn't like Gwaine to act this way.
Gwaine muttered distractedly, "No…yes…maybe…I need a sleeping draught."
"Right now?" Merlin queried, confused.
"No, just by tonight…" Gwaine's gaze finally came to rest; on Elwin. And he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
"Um, okay." Merlin stammered. "I'll have Gaius mix one up…he's better at that sort of thing…er, what's it for?"
"Uh…What?" snapped Gwaine, shaking himself and looking at Merlin instead. Almost glaring, actually.
"The sleeping draught. What do you need it for?"
"Sleeping, what else?" Gwaine replied curtly.
"I think he means; what specifically is troubling you so that you need a sleeping draught? Sleeplessness? Bad dreams?" Both Merlin and Gwaine looked around at Everard. He was staring at Gwaine, his brow furrowed slightly.
Gwaine looked away from the boy, down at the floor. "I'll come back later." he mumbled, before storming out of the room without so much as a farewell.
Merlin shook his head in, partly in disbelief, partly in worry. "Sorry about him." he said to Everard. "He's usually not that unpleasant...actually, he's usually quite agreeable…I'd better be off. Can't keep the king waiting!" With that, Merlin headed for the door, only to be stopped by a sudden question from Everard.
"Merlin! Where is Gwaine from?"
Merlin turned, confused by Everard's tone. The boy's voice was rough, almost panicked. And his face was no different. "Um…I think told me he's from Caerleon? Why?"
Everard looked away. "It's nothing." he muttered. "You'd better hurry; the king, you know." He stood and went to check on his brother.
Merlin, knowing firsthand Arthur Pendragon's infamous impatience, hurried off to his duties, all the while wondering to himself what on earth is going on?
He was determined to find out.
Gwaine knew that he shouldn't have left like that. He knew that it simply encourage more questions from Merlin. And to be honest, Gwaine had seen just about as many of Merlin's questioning looks as he could stand.
That was why he couldn't talk about his nightmares with the servant. Gwaine was trying to treat them as he would treat an illness. If he asked Gaius for a sleeping draught, the old physician wouldn't press him for details. Merlin would. Merlin would want to know the reasons behind the bad dreams; reasons Gwaine couldn't bring himself to face.
He had barely slept the night before. Every time he closed his eyes and slipped into slumber, a nightmare would wake him minutes later. He hadn't had the chance to go to the tavern that evening, but even if he had, Gwaine felt that the nightmares would've come to haunt him just the same.
The dreams varied. Sometimes he was in Camelot, sometimes the forest, sometimes a tavern, or cave…but the outcome of the dream was always the same. Every time, he killed someone he cared about.
And then he was left staring at the silver blade coated in red blood.
Guinevere. Elyan. Percival. Leon. Arthur. Merlin. Other knights he was friends with. Sometimes even Gaius. It didn't matter who he murdered each time; just that he did. And last night, the twins had joined the host of people he slaughtered in his dreams.
Why?
A question that still haunted him.
There were plenty of things he could say to reassure himself. Things including the fact that if he hadn't run all those years ago, there was every chance that Merlin, Arthur, and numerous others would all have gotten themselves killed years ago. He would have not come to Camelot and met all the men who were now his friends. Also, he had been knighted by King Arthur Pendragon himself. That had to count for something, right?
But they don't know you. Not really.
He'd lied to more than one of them. He'd also lied to himself; almost convincing himself of his false past, hoping to forget.
But I can't forget. He might be a drunk much of the time, but his long-term memory was fine. Plus the nightmares kept his memories sharp and clear. And now the twins had shown up…
The worst was when he had to relive the day when it had all started. The day he'd done the unforgivable.
I killed my own father.
Gwaine had no idea how he'd gotten to the stables, into his stallion's stall. But as he was there now, he had no desire to leave. There was no one else around, for once.
So the dark-haired knight sunk down on the straw covered floor in a corner and allowed himself a few jerky, almost silent sobs.
Merlin had to hand it to Everard: The boy wasn't in the least intimidated by the nobles and knights of Camelot who were at the moment assembled in the Council Chamber Or at least, if he was frightened, he wasn't showing it.
Arthur started off the meeting with a couple polite inquires about Elwin's health. After receiving equally polite answers, the king questioned, "So, Everard; tell me. How did you and your brother run afoul of slave traders?"
Everard answered steadily, "We were out hunting. The slave traders crept up on us; surrounded us. We were taken prisoner quickly. I believe that they wanted to sell us in the south…so south we went. We were still headed in that direction when you rescued us."
"Where are you from?" asked the Guinevere, stepping forward. "There is a lot of land north of Camelot."
Everard's customary serious expression was suddenly overtaken by a wide smile. "Yes, my lady, there is certainly a good deal of land north of here. Anyways," he continued, "Elwin and I are from Bernicia."
Gaius was the first to respond to that statement. "Bernicia? You're certainly a long way from home."
Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry you had to suffer at the hands of those slave traders for such a long journey."
Everard inclined his head slightly. "It was hardly your doing." he replied.
Merlin wondered vaguely where the boy had learned to speak so properly. He had a gracious yet proud air rather like Arthur himself.
Everard spoke again. "As it is, I must thank you and your knights for rescuing my brother and I. We are deeply indebted to you."
Arthur nodded in return. "You are most welcome." Turning to the court physician, he asked, "Gaius, how much longer until Elwin is fully healed?"
"About two weeks, Sire." Gaius said. "Probably a little longer to be sure."
Arthur looked back at Everard. "Once your brother has recovered, we shall arrange for you to be escorted home."
Merlin could've sworn that the boy went a shade paler than usual. "That is not necessary, my lord." he said quickly.
"But we can't let you two go off on your own!" cried Gwen.
"Don't even think about arguing." Arthur said with slight smile. "We'll be escorting you home."
Just then, Merlin saw Gwaine slip into the room. Oddly, he remained in a back corner, apparently trying to blend in with the stone behind him. He appeared disheveled and tired.
Everard narrowed his eyes. "We?" he questioned.
"The knights and I." Arthur said dismissively. "Until then, you two will remain as honored guests."
After a tense moment, Everard said politely, "As Your Majesty wishes. I thank you again on the behalf of myself and my brother."
Is it my imagination, or did Gwaine just look terrified when Arthur said "The knights and I?"
No, it couldn't have been Merlin's imagination.
This tavern in the tiny village near the border wasn't the nicest one in Mercia. Or anywhere.
Seated as inconspicuously as possible at a corner table, Elen brushed a strand of golden hair from her face before emptying the last of her ale down her throat. Standing gracefully, she dropped a few coins on the table, pulled on her thick brown cloak, and hurried outside. Unsavory place that this was, she wanted to check her horse before she went to bed.
The mostly clouded sky outside was growing dark. The thick grass that covered the ground was wet from an earlier rain shower. As Elen was about to duck inside the stable doorway, she paused briefly, but gave no other indication that she'd heard the stealthy footsteps behind her.
Entering and quickly locating her white mare amongst the other beasts, Elen walked over and stroked the animal's nose. "Hello, gorgeous." she cooed. "I brought you an apple."
The horse accepted the treat eagerly, munching away loudly as Elen gave her one last pat before leaving the stable.
When the man accosted her in the yard between the stable and the main inn building, Elen wasn't in the least surprised.
He was big, at least a head taller than Elen herself, and broad shouldered. His clothing was tattered, and he wore a knife in his belt. He easily blocked her path back to the tavern door. Grinning, he sneered, "Hello, pretty."
Elen wrinkled her nose. He was only a foot from her, and his breath was foul. "What do you wan?" she asked quietly, though she knew already.
It doesn't take a logician to figure it out.
That almost brought a smile to her face as the man jeered, "I've 'ad my eyes on you all evening, ya know."
"No, I didn't." She was really smiling now, enjoying the delicious justice of it all; of what would soon come to this filthy . "Now if you'll excuse me…" she made to step past him.
The man grabbed her arm, baring his rotten teeth. "No woman walks away from Greg!" he snarled, his grip becoming tighter.
Instead of struggling, Elen stopped and faced Greg with an almost cruel smile on her face. "Wáce ierlic."
The man was thrown backwards across the yard. He collided with a wooden post, fell to the ground, and lay still. Not dead, she thought, but he'd have quite a headache when he woke.
Elen snorted in amusement as she headed back inside. But as she entered the tavern once more, her smile faded as she saw a scrawny, dark-haired man, whom she had spoken to earlier, making his way towards her. She gestured for him to join her in a secluded corner. "Well?" she asked softly.
The man glanced around before replying. "A troupe of slave traders passed through this village a couple weeks ago. They had two boys with them; in their teens."
Elen felt a surge of fury, but held it in check. "Where were they headed?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"South. No more specifics, I'm afraid, except…" The rouge lowered his voice even further. "The traders boasted that they had a client, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."
Elen frowned, handing her informant a pouch heavy with gold coins. "Thank you." she murmured. The man nodded in reply and disappeared into the crowd.
Elen headed for the staircase, and her room, in an enraged mood.
"…they had a customer, a wealthy and powerful one, who was going to pay well for those particular boys."
So it had been planned; not a random snatch at all. She'd have to send word to Aldwyn.
But as she entered the room she had paid for earlier, Elen clenched her jaw and smiled grimly to herself. Whoever wants the twins is going to regret it, she thought.
Because no one messes with the Barclayns.
That spell was actually used in a Merlin episode (see if you can guess which one...).
I invented the name Barclayns (based off the old English name Barclay, which I chose just because I liked it); any relation to an actual family/place/person/thing is entirely unintentional (there actually is a Scottish clan called Barclay, but the Barclayns aren't supposed to have any relation to that). And this Barclayn family of my invention will be discussed further in future chapters (and yes, it's a family, not some magical order or other). Okay, now I've gone on way to long...
Anyway, any guesses on who Elen is (besides a Barclayn...hehe)? Reviews appreciated!
Thanks again for reading!