Chapter Eight

Hello!

Earlier update than usual...maybe I'll actually get some sleep tonight. :)

This story is going off in a completely different direction than I expected, so any somewhat wild twists and turns were probably not my original intent. But isn't that part of the fun of writing? :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

If someone had asked Sir Gwaine a week before if he'd trade all the ale in Camelot for a peaceful night's sleep, he would have said yes. That's why he wanted the sleeping draughts from Gaius, right?

Only, he'd wanted some dreamless sleep, not this bizarre haze he was stuck in.

To be perfectly blunt, Gwaine was bored. Not to mention unnerved.

Lovely, soft, dark unconsciousness hadn't lasted nearly long enough before he was pulled into this peculiar foggy place.

Everything around him was shrouded in gently swirling fog in various pastel shades. Above him, the fog was of a soft blue shade, below him and to either side, delicate green, pink, and brown. All were edged with white and gray.

Gwaine had been stuck there for longer than he could remember. And he was extremely bored.

Peaceful, this place was. He had liked it at first; he had enjoyed wandering around in the endless fog bank. The ground (which he couldn't see because of the said fog that came up to his ankles) was solid enough, but everything else was gently shifting. But there was only so long the restless man could watch the endlessly changing, misty formations before getting restless. Plus he was having an increasingly hard time remembering how he'd gotten there.

Eventually, weary of walking, he sat down on the ground, allowing wisps of mist to partially shroud him.

Then he nearly panicked, despite the soothing setting, when he realized that he'd briefly forgotten his own name. But a moment later, he remembered it. Thought some recent events seemed rather hazy…never mind. Relieved, he settled back on his elbows and looked up at the bluish sky (if there even was a sky here). For some reason, it started him thinking of Merlin.

Merlin. The first person in Gwaine's adult life who was a friend. Clumsy yet wise. Brave yet clever. The servant to a great prince and even greater king.

Funny, that. Gwaine had always thought it strange that Merlin, a sorcerer, would dare to be the manservant of a Pendragon.

Gwaine didn't often let himself think consciously about Merlin's magic. He was afraid of letting something slip, maybe while drunk or fighting, to someone who would wish the younger man harm. Like Leon or Arthur; those who truly hated magic. But honestly, it had been rather obvious.

Or perhaps it had only been obvious because Gwaine had grown up around magic.

Here, in this quiet, empty place that seemed to belong nowhere, Gwaine was free to contemplate that.

That first time, in the tavern a short distance from Camelot's walls, Gwaine had seen Merlin throwing plates without his hands. He hadn't realized at the time that Merlin's companion was Arthur Pendragon, but he had thought the raven-haired young man incredibly brave (as well as foolish) to use magic anywhere within Camelot's borders. So he'd introduced himself, and then managed to get himself stabbed trying to save the Arthur's life.

Gwaine had just about died of embarrassment and disgust when he realized that he'd rescued the Prince of Camelot. He'd had had to cover it up by saying he didn't like nobles (which was partially, true; he did avoid them, mainly to remain unseen by anyone who might recognize him for who he really was). It was ridiculous! He hated Pendragons just as much as the rest of his family did!

If there was one thing his family did well, it was agree on whom to hate.

It was only later, after he noticed Merlin's devotion to Arthur and the prince's own honorable traits, that Gwaine realized that perhaps his father's old maxim "nobility is defined by what you do not who you are" could apply to a member of the Pendragon family as well.

Though the irony of the entire situation hadn't been lost on Gwaine. Or when he was knighted; that had been just as ironic, if not more so.

What business did Gwaine have being a knight of Camelot? Personal flaws aside, it shouldn't have been allowed. He had grown up in Bernicia, where magic was permitted. He had seen a unicorn and spoken to more than one sorcerer over the course of his childhood. He had had a friend who tamed wyverns.

And his mother was a sorceress.

That fact was perhaps the most ironic of them all. Gwaine didn't have magic (if he had he figured that it probably would have made an appearance by now) any more than his father had. His sister, now, was a different story; she'd been breaking and moving things with magic since she was a child. But still…the son of a sorceress becoming a knight of Camelot? Paradoxical.

Gwaine had always wondered where Merlin got his magic; probably his father, judging by the way he talked about him. But he was clearly adept at using it; the multiple times he'd used it in dire situations proved that. It had not gotten past Gwaine that odd things seemed to happen around Merlin when his friends were in danger. Falling branches? Almost invincible magical creatures dying suddenly and mysteriously? Immortal armies going up in smoke? Snarling wyverns backing off suddenly and unexpectedly? That last one still confused him; he doubted even his old friend Hayden would be able to order fully-grown wild wyverns to do anything. And that bloody sword Merlin had been hauling around for a while the first time Morgana conquered Camelot; that thing positively reeked of magic. And later Arthur had apparently pulled it out of a rock? Seriously? Arthur might have been strong, but no man was that strong. Unless magic was involved.

Unless Merlin was involved.

Was Merlin involved in everything? Probably. What was that dwarf bridge-keeper had said about Courage, Strength, and Magic? Gwaine had wondered if Arthur had been told the same thing, and if so, why didn't he pick up on the hint? Magic also explained why Merlin hadn't fallen under the spell of that Lamia girl…

Gwaine knew perfectly well that Merlin's life would be in danger if Arthur ever found out, so he kept his mouth shut. Merlin clearly didn't trust Gwaine enough to tell him; he would respect that. Hell, he'd take the secret to his grave if he had to.

Speaking of graves, was it possible that he dying now? He'd certainly never had a dream quite like this before.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Gwaine stood up, little eddies of fog stirring around him. He peered into the mists, wondering vaguely if he should try to get out. But there were no landmarks, no sense of direction. And if this was a dream, he didn't seem to have the ability to wake himself up.

He started off at a brisk walk, hoping to discover something that could get him out of this increasingly odd landscape.

Instead he almost collided with a young woman who appeared directly in front of him.

Skidding to a halt, Gwaine stared. Her back was turned to him; she seemed not to have heard him (that was another thing; this place was eerily silent). She wore a simple green tunic and dark brown leggings. Her golden hair was in a long, messy braid. She was muttering to herself, making the only noise in the foggy, hushed scene.

Unable to understand what she was grumbling about and wondering if she could possibly know what was going on, Gwaine cleared his throat.

The woman whipped around, her narrowed brown eyes blazing. "Who…" She froze.

She didn't need to ask who. He didn't, either.

When did my sister turn out so gorgeous?

"Gwaine?"

"Elen?"

They stared at each other for a while, gaping. "What the hell…" they both started to say, then stopped. Gwaine laughed as she glared at him. Nothing's changed there, then, Gwaine thought to himself. "Where are we?" he asked once he'd finished chuckling over the expression on her face.

He almost started laughing again when she rolled her eyes at him in a all-too familiar gesture. "Honestly, Gwaine, why do you always expect me to know everything?"

"Because you're older?" he offered, only half-jokingly.

She sighed. "Here we go again. Gwaine, how much older than you am I?"

Falling almost too easily back into their old routine, he replied, "Ten minutes."

She glowered at him. "Fifteen, you mean."

"Close enough." he answered with a shrug.

"Gwaine!"

Gwaine had started chuckling again when a sharp pain lanced through his head. "Ow!" he yelped as his vision began to blur.

"What?" his sister demanded.

"Nothing." he replied quickly; the pain had rapidly faded and his vision was back to normal. "So…what are you up to these days, anyhow?" Abruptly, he realized that he really wanted to know; he'd missed Elen.

"You're asking me?" she spluttered. When he nodded sheepishly, she grumbled, "Typical male...But if you must know, I'm supposed to be looking for the twins, but I was getting some rest…What am I thinking? Where on earth have you been?" she yelled.

Gwaine's vision was going blurry again. Shaking himself, he struggled to hold on to a thought that was just out of his reach; something about the twins…"They're in Camelot!" he yelped suddenly.

Elen stopped yelling continuous questions at him and stared. "What?"

"Everard and Elwin, they're in Camelot!" Gwaine proclaimed triumphantly just as the world fell out of focus.

"What in the name of magic are they doing…" Elen's voice and face faded rapidly into darkness as Gwaine felt the sensation of rising slowly upwards.

The next thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Gaius' concerned face hovering above him as his head began to throb again.

Merlin had been in a preoccupied state all day, causing Arthur to yell at him more usual. In fact, nobody was in a particularly good mood that day. Leon had taken to shouting at recruits, Elyan had begged off training duty to go work at a blacksmith's forge (something he did occasionally when he was upset), and Percival was speaking less than usual, and then mostly in grunts. The queen was rather distracted throughout a long council meeting and Arthur was in a distinctly foul mood. Everard and Elwin had gone to the Lower Town and had not returned until late.

While Merlin knew that everyone, himself included, was worried about Gwaine, he had the added burden of Gwaine's recently discovered lies.

Why would Gwaine lie to me?

It was clear that Gwaine must have taken the pendants from one of the slave traders after the twins were rescued. Anyone who knew him would link them to him, and he must not have wanted that.

But if the twins are related to him, why is he trying to deny it? Or whatever it is he's trying to do by behaving like this…

So Merlin had been going between concern for his friend's condition to anger for his deceitful behavior all day. And so he kept popping in to check on the still-unconscious knight. Each time, there was no change, and Merlin went away feeling worried and disgusted at the same time.

How could he not trust me?

Finally, just as evening had fallen on Camelot, Merlin entered Gwaine's chambers to find Gaius bending over the feebly stirring knight. "Gwaine, can you hear me?" the physician was asking.

"Whaaa.." Gwaine croaked his eyes fluttering open.

Gaius stood up, frowning disapprovingly. "You overindulged in sleeping potion, Gwaine. Why on earth didn't you read the label I provided?"

The dark-haired knight groaned. "Don't know…not so loud…"

"Well, I hardly believe that this is the first time you've ever suffered a hangover, Gwaine. If you wanted one, you should have gone to the tavern."

"Go away…" moaned Gwaine.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. When you're awake enough to sit up, you will drink this preparation I made for you that should help with some of the aftereffects, but I swear if you abuse any of my medicines again…"

"How long…" Gwaine seemed determined to finish this sentence. "…how long have I been…"

"Asleep? All of last night and most of today." Gaius interrupted. "Ah, Merlin, there you are; you can help me get this idiot upright…"

Gwaine protested halfheartedly as they propped him upright on his pillows and forced him to drink some evil-looking yellowish potion. He choked and coughed, but a few minutes later he was able to speak with some coherency. "Truly, Gaius, I didn't realize…I forgot to check the label…it won't happen again…"

Gaius looked like he wanted to slap the knight, but refrained from doing so in respect for his condition. "It had better be the last time; next time you'll probably kill yourself."

This got a more violent reaction than either Gaius or Merlin had expected. "I wasn't trying to!" Gwaine cried out, only to start coughing again.

"Of course not." Gaius hastily amended, exchanging a glance with Merlin. "Well, you'll survive, anyhow."

Suddenly feeling very impatient, Merlin opened his mouth to blurt out the first question that popped into his head (something along the lines with "How exactly are you related to the twins?") but a sharp glare from Gaius stopped him. "Merlin, why don't you go see if the king needs you?"

Gwaine glanced at Merlin, his gaze worried. Merlin ignored him and stalked out of the room. Now that Gwaine was awake and apparently recovering, Merlin had more room for anger and betrayal.

That blithering drunk and whatever secrets that he won't spill…

Then Merlin got an idea. Gaius probably wouldn't approve (he had been taking Gwaine's side most of the time in this whole affair), but it might be a way to figure it all out…

A few minutes later, Merlin walked up to the doors of the chambers shared by Everard and Elwin and knocked firmly, noting the sound of giggles within. Elwin, he supposed. A quick "Come in!" answered his knock; that sounded like Everard..

Merlin opened the door and strode in to find Elwin laughing hanging upside-down off the edge of his bed while his brother tossed grapes into his mouth. Everard stopped throwing the fruit when Merlin entered. "Hello! Elwin, sit up and chew those grapes properly before you choke. How can I help you, Merlin?"

"I came to bring you these." Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out the two silver pendants which he'd been keeping hidden since Gaius had found them in Gwaine's room. He tossed one to each boy; Everard caught his deftly, but Elwin missed and went scrambling around for his underneath the bed.

It took Everard less than a second to recognize the pendant he now held. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"One of the knights found them on the slave traders; he, uh, forgot to ask if they belonged to you." Merlin watched for Everard's reaction carefully.

He didn't have to, as it turned out. "Was it Sir Gwaine?"

Elwin finally got hold of his pendant and sat up looking nervous. Merlin glanced at him before asking Everard, "How did you know?"

"He has one too."

"Yes. Do you mind telling me why?"

He honestly didn't expect the answer he got. "It isn't his."

Merlin felt a surge of relief and hope; was it possible that Gwaine had simply got mixed up with the royal family of Bernicia at some point? It wouldn't really explain his nightmares, but it might mean that he wasn't a liar. But then Everard continued,

"It's Aldwyn's. Gwaine stole it off him the last time he visited. Before he ran away."

Now Merlin was confused. "Who's Aldwyn?"

"Our older brother." Elwin answered him, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

Everard nodded. "Gwaine is our cousin." he added casually. "Father's brother's son."

Cousin? "He ran away? From where? When? And why?"

"Yes, he did. From home, of course. Ten years ago. And it's none of your business."

Merlin shook his head to clear it. "Okay," he said carefully, "So if you two are fourteen, like you told us, how did you remember him well enough to know he's your cousin?"

"The pendant, of course. And if that wasn't enough…which it might not be to most people…Gwaine's not exactly a common name, is it?"

"Plus he looks like…well, our family, right?" Elwin piped up.

Merlin looked from one boy to the other. They didn't particularly look like Gwaine…no, he took that back. Everard's eyes were the same shade of brown and Elwin's were similar to the knight's as well; except that they were gray. Probably someone else in the family looked more like Gwaine... "He just woke up, you know."

"After drinking an entire bottle of a potent sleeping potion?" Everard snorted. "Yeah, he'd do something like that."

Elwin, for once, was the one to explain. "Aldwyn talks about him a lot. They were best friends, once."

Everard looked strangely sad when Merlin looked back at him. "Aldwyn's the only one who'll talk about him anymore. With us, at least. We were only four…but I remember he used to play with us…"

"He gave us piggyback rides." Elwin said suddenly.

The brothers looked at each other, apparently lost in memories. Merlin asked finally, "Why did he run away?"

Everard met his gaze squarely, his eyes unreadable. "If you want to know, ask him. It's not our place to say."

With that, he made it quite clear that Merlin was dismissed.

It was so early in the morning that most of the songbirds had yet to awaken. Dew clung to the trees and grass. The sky above was pale blue, almost grey.

Almost the color of the sky in that bloody dream.

Elen urged her white mare into a trot. Last night's experience had shaken her. She had found a decent inn early on the evening before and had gone to bed early. Only to see her brother in a dream.

Damn, he grew up! I wonder why we saw each other last night…

It was called dream telepathy; unusual but not unheard of. Elen and Gwaine had conversed in their dreams before, but never in that bizarre place and anyway not since they were children. As they had grown older, it had become increasingly difficult for Elen to read her brother's emotions; they might have been born together, but they had grown apart.

Then he'd run off…

Pull yourself together, Elen! Tears had been threatening to gather in her eyes.

She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Namely, what her brother had said about the twins.

Everard and Elwin were in Camelot.

Should she trust the words of a dream?

But it had been real, in its own way. That actually had been her brother.

And somehow he knew the twins were in Camelot.

As for how they got there…Elen had her own theory.

Of all the low, cowardly things a Pendragon would do…

Elen clenched her jaw and kicked her mare into a gallop, headed southwest along the road. She had work to do.

Arthur Pendragon, you will pay for this.

So, a bit of a cliffhanger! How many of you guessed that Elen was Gwaine's sister when she made her last appearance?

In one of the Season Four episodes ("Herald of A New Age", I think) Gwaine mentioned a sister and called her "an evil old toad". I'm putting my own spin on that (which you'll get more of in later chapters).

Please feel free to review!