Chapter Six

Hello!

I'm too tired to think much right now, so I'll just say that I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Merlin had honestly thought that having Elwin awake but confined to the physician's chambers was bad.

But it was much worse when Elwin was allowed to move about the castle. Now there was no escaping him; he was bound to turn up anywhere at any given moment.

He never stopped talking; prattling, really. When he wasn't asking questions, he was jabbering on about nothing in particular, with subjects ranging from the color of Camelot's flag to what had been for dinner the night before.

Gaius may have forbidden the boy to overexert himself, but Elwin got around that by finding all the shortest routes to various parts of the castle. He didn't need to run to get from place to place quickly. Often he dragged a clearly annoyed Everard along on his forays, which included sneaking food from the kitchens.

As he was also banned from training with his brother and the knights until further notice, Elwin had that morning fashioned a makeshift slingshot and had been firing tiny clods of dirt at unsuspecting squires on the training field.

He'd been doing that just before Arthur sent Merlin off to change his clothes (the servant had been mucking out the stables earlier and hadn't had the time to change for a while; apparently Arthur's nose had been extremely offended, even outdoors). The last thing Merlin had heard as he headed back to the court physician's chambers was Everard scolding Elwin roundly for hitting Sir Elyan on the back of the head with a particularly well-aimed projectile.

"Can't you stay out of trouble for ten minutes? We're supposed to be their guests; and you're acting like a curse!"

"It didn't hurt him, right? I wouldn't want to hurt anyone…"

"Oh, really? I honestly don't think Gaius and Merlin's stomachs have yet recovered from that onslaught of pepper…"

This had made everyone in the vicinity laugh.

The unfortunate part, Merlin reflected, was that nobody could stay angry with Elwin for long. He was too good-natured (though mischievous) and too comical to hold a serious grudge against. Unlike his naturally serious, polite twin brother, Elwin was as impish as a goblin and as affable as a drunken Gwaine; therefore he was extremely hard to dislike.

Speaking of Gwaine…

Merlin had just reached the doorway to Gaius' chambers when he heard Gwaine's voice. He halted, listening intently.

"I know what you told me, Gaius, but it's not working." The knights voice was rough, strained. Merlin frowned.

"Did you take it all? Perhaps the dosage was not sufficient." the old physician replied calmly.

"Oh, hell, it was sufficient all right! I go to sleep and can't wake up; so then I'm stuck in a nightmare and can't escape, can't even rouse myself…so, yeah, Gaius, the dosage was plenty damn sufficient!"

Merlin's jaw dropped. Gwaine sounded so unlike his usual humorous, joking self that it was almost hard to believe that it was the same person.

There was silence for a while, eventually punctuated by the sounds of movement and clanking bottles. Merlin strained his ears, but there was no talking until Gaius said, "Here. This will induce deeper sleep; hopefully it should help."

Presumably, Gwaine took the remedy before mumbling, so quietly that Merlin could barely make it out, "I'm sorry. It's just…"

"It's alright, Gwaine. Let me know if this potion helps."

"Thank you."

Realizing that the knight was about to exit the physician's chambers, Merlin hastily ducked into a nearby doorway and waited for Gwaine to pass. Then he went back to find Gaius muttering to himself over some bubbling concoction. "Ah, Merlin." he said before sniffing suspiciously. "Have you been rolling in dung?"

"Cleaning the stables. I came in to change clothes."

"Naturally. We can't have you serving the king's dinner while smelling like a troll, can we?" Gaius chuckled.

Merlin grinned briefly before asking bluntly, "What's wrong with Gwaine?"

Gaius looked up from whatever concoction he was brewing. "He suffers from nightmares, Merlin. I don't know anyone who hasn't at some point or another. It's nothing serious."

"Well, he seems to take it pretty seriously." Merlin retorted mildly. When his mentor did not respond, Merlin added more edgily, "He's been off for a while now, but he's been acting worse since the twins came to Camelot. Why is that, do you think?"

"I have no idea." Gaius replied. "Except…Merlin, did Everard ever ask you any questions about Gwaine?"

"Only where he was from. Why?"

"What did you tell him?"

Merlin furrowed his brow. "Only what Gwaine told me; Caerleon, originally. What did Everard ask you?"

Gaius rummaged around in a nearby stack of books and papers for a minute before handing Merlin a scrap of parchment. Examining it, the warlock saw a rough sketch of Gwaine's silver pendant, the one he always wore. "Everard drew that." Gaius said quietly. "Two nights ago, when the boys were moved to chambers elsewhere in the castle, I was cleaning up and found it under the cot. If there were any others, I think he may have burned them. And he's been questioning me surreptitiously about Gwaine, too; or at least he was. Until a few days ago. Then he stopped mentioning him completely." Gaius sighed. "The reason why I haven't discussed it with you yet, Merlin, is because I knew you'd start harassing Gwaine about it and as his physician I didn't think it advisable."

Merlin shook his head slightly. "Something's really weird about this, Gaius. Gwaine's nightmares, all Everard's questions…" He paused as another thought hit him. "Wait, Everard's been with the knights a lot lately, and they've told plenty of stories about Gwaine…but he hasn't been around…"

"You know Merlin, you ought to talk to him." Gaius said after a long pause.

"Who; Gwaine or Everard?"

"Gwaine. He's your friend, isn't he?"

"But you said…"

"That's when I believed that Gwaine's nightmares and restlessness had something to do with a physical aliment. I don't believe that now."

Merlin groaned. "Gaius, I tried talking to him already. Before the twins arrived. He just about took my head off. I suppose I could ask one of the knights…Elyan or Percival maybe…"

"But you're his oldest friend, Merlin. You know him the best."

That, thought Merlin, was only too true.

But if he could get Gwaine to talk…and if it would actually help…wouldn't a few angry words from the knight be worth it?

Sir Gwaine was headed down to the stables in a preoccupied haze when he collided with someone else coming around a corner.

"Ow!" both of them yelled at once as they simultaneously lost their balance. Gwaine managed to hold himself up against a wall, but the other person fell down with a disgruntled yelp on his backside.

"Sorry!" Gwaine said hurriedly, moving forward to help the other individual up, but stopping dead when he saw who it was.

Elwin jumped to his feet easily enough without assistance, seeming very cheerful despite the circumstances. "S'okay. Didn't hurt. Just surprised me, that's all." He dusted himself off, a broad grin appearing on his face. "You're a knight, aren't you? I haven't really met you yet, I don't think. Were you one of the ones who rescued us? Most of the others call me a nuisance, but they laugh at my jokes. What's your name again?" He watched Gwaine expectantly.

Gwaine opened his mouth to reply, but then froze. Had Everard told Elwin…If not, maybe he could lie…

But Elwin was already eyeing Gwaine curiously. "Do I know you?" he asked suddenly.

Gwaine swallowed hard. "I was one of the knights who rescued you." he replied. "The name's Gwaine."

Elwin's reaction was immediate; his eyes widened briefly and his mouth fell open for a moment. But he soon got himself under control and said smoothly, "Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

Gwaine shook it, feeling rather dazed. By God, give Elwin darker hair and a few more inches of height and he'd be the spitting image of Aldwyn. Everard, too, except his eyes were brown, not grey…

Like their father's. Like my father's. Like mine.

Elwin was talking again. "Gaius says I shouldn't be running around and exerting myself, but if you ran into me then it surely doesn't count…"

"Elwin!" Everard came up. "Where on earth did you…" He stopped. "Sir Gwaine." he said in an icy tone, putting extra emphasis on the sir. Turning back to his brother, he scolded, "You're supposed to go to Gaius and get more medicine, remember?"

"I was. Until I ran into Sir Gwaine here…or he ran into me…or…"

Everard ignored his excuses. "Come on, I'm taking you to Gaius now." Grabbing his brother's arm, Everard began to drag his protesting twin ("I don't need more medicine; my arm hasn't bled for days…") in the direction of the physician's chambers, calling over his shoulder as an afterthought, "The Pendragon has been asking around for you." Again, that disdainful inflection on the Pendragon.

Gwaine lost his temper; not an usual occurrence these days. "Don't speak of the king like that!" he shouted.

Everard spun around, pulling his hapless twin around with him. "Did you have to yell that? Or are you afraid that the king with take off someone's head?"

Elwin got a bewildered expression on his face, but Gwaine felt a chill as he realized exactly what Everard must be referring to. Or rather, who. And he found that he couldn't answer.

After a few moments, Everard sighed and hauled his now-questioning brother away.

As the boys disappeared from his view, two thoughts, each accompanied by its own set of emotions, kept going through Gwaine's head.

One, with concern and pity: He's scared as hell, being stuck in Camelot.

Two, with anger and fear: How dare he drag my sister into this?

As a rule, Ryle didn't like traveling with companions. Traveling in a group involved agreeing with others about what route to take, waiting for stragglers (there was always one at some point), and haggling over first watch. He much preferred to be alone.

Still, his present companions weren't all that bad. Aldwyn might be a bit of a know-it-all, but he had a very good sense of humor, not to mention superior skill with a sword.

As for Lady Cleva…Well, Ryle would have preferred to have Haralda (she was an excellent huntress and deadly with a throwing axe), but Cleva could cook better.

At the moment, the black-haired damsel was stirring a pot of stew over the campfire while his royally-disobedient-highness Aldwyn sharpened his sword. Ryle leaned back against a pile of saddlebags, humming softly to himself. "Not a bad evening." he said after a while. "Where are we going again?"

"Do you ask things like that just to hear the sound of your own voice?" replied Cleva serenely, without raising her eyes from the soup. Ryle snorted; she had a sense of humor too, then.

"According to Elen's last message, she was in Mercia. Slave traders were taking Everard and Elwin south. Some special customer." Aldwyn's voice was steady, but tight with worry. Of course; they were his brothers, after all.

Typical Barclayns. Ryle thought to himself. Annoying each other to no end, but if you even try to harm just one the rest will be after you sure as sunset.

He wondered, briefly, if he should tell Aldwyn who he'd seen on his last jaunt through Camelot.

Better not, he decided after some deliberation. No need to add extra hassle to this rescue mission.

While Cleva announced that dinner was ready and divvied up the stew, Ryle thought wryly that Gwaine would probably just pull another disappearing act, anyway.

Besides, Aldwyn and the rest would all have heart attacks if I told them that Gwaine is now a knight of Camelot.

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