Chapter Nine

Hello, I'm back!

Sorry for the wait. Real life has been horrid the last couple of days.

Special thanks to NerdGirlAlert for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Enjoy!

Merlin was just about to clear up the dishes from the king and queen's lunch when someone knocked at the door.

"Enter!" called Arthur, not taking his eyes off Guinevere. They were lingering at the table; Gwen was telling Arthur about something amusing that had happened that morning when she was in the Lower Town. Both of them looked up, however, when Gwaine walked in.

Merlin paused in his work, torn between rage and worry when he saw his friend. Gwaine was wearing his chain mail and red cloak, but not his sword. He also looked rather pale and shaky, possibly from his run-in with too much sleeping potion. But then, he'd been looking rather shaky for weeks now, in one way or another. "Your Highnesses." he said quietly, deferentially.

Not like Gwaine at all.

Arthur stood up. "Sir Gwaine! What can I do for you?"

"Are you all right?" Gwen interjected.

Gwaine wouldn't look directly at them. "I've come to apologize."

Okay, really not like Gwaine. Worry finally won the battle over rage. Merlin gave up the pretense of working and watched intently.

"Apologize? What for?" Gwen demanded.

Arthur seemingly had drawn his own conclusions. "If it's about that fight we had over training, Gwaine, that was my fault as much as yours. I probably should've been a little more considerate…"

Gwaine frowned slightly. "I wasn't really thinking about that, but…I should be apologizing for that too. I had no right to challenge you over something like that. I forgot my place, and that being a Knight of Camelot has responsibilities as well as privileges."

Merlin's jaw dropped briefly before he disciplined it. Arthur and Gwen looked just as flabbergasted as he felt; the words coming from Gwaine's mouth would be expected from Leon or Elyan, but definitely not from the usually drunk rogue standing before them. And he hadn't finished yet.

"I also must apologize for my behavior the other night. I've already told Gaius that I am sorry. As a knight, I should look after my health for the good of the kingdom, not risk it by taking a medicine without knowing the possible aftereffects. As of late I have been extremely indolent and self-centered…well, more so than usual, anyway…and for that I am truly sorry."

There was a few moments of silence, during which Gwen exchanged a bewildered look with Merlin and Arthur simply gaped at his knight. Finally, the king managed to say, "Gwaine, look, no one blames you for that sleeping draught, not really, least of all me. It was an accident, that's all. It wasn't your fault."

None of them were prepared for the pain that briefly consumed Gwaine's features before a stony mask settled over his face. "Accidents seem to happen a lot around me." he said bitterly.

Merlin was suddenly reminded of a similar comment, spoken in a dark hall. "No one should trust me. Ever."

Arthur stepped forward and placed his hand on the knight's shoulder. "Gwaine, you are one of my most trusted knights. Yes, you drink too much and you're usually as annoying as hell, but you're a good man."

Gwaine still wouldn't look Arthur in the eye. "I have my own opinions about that." he muttered.

Unfazed, Arthur continued. "Gaius told us that you were having nightmares, and that's why you were taking sleeping potion. It seems like a perfectly reasonable reason to take such medicines, and if you acted foolishly with one bottle, it's nothing to be unduly concerned about it. Everyone does stupid things like that at some point, and it kind of makes sense in your case because of your, ah, fondness of drink, but that aside...as for forgetting your place, well, it's not as if I haven't at times. You clearly weren't feeling yourself. But there is no dishonor in saying sorry…I accept your apology."

"Thank you, Sire." murmured Gwaine, but his expression did not clear.

Arthur turned to Gwen with a beseeching look. The queen moved forward and inquired gently, "Gwaine, are you really all right? Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Any way we can help?"

Usually Gwen's kind inquiries broke down reluctance like a charm, but Gwaine simply shook his head. "No, there's nothing, my lady. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course." Arthur and Gwen replied simultaneously as the knight bowed slightly and left the room quickly.

When he was gone, Arthur whipped around to face his manservant. "Merlin, when's the last time Gwaine was at the tavern?"

Merlin sighed. "A while."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "And when did he start acting like a sissy?"

"Arthur!" shouted Guinevere, clearly enraged about her husband's insensitivity.

"Gwen, I'm not talking about his apology; that's a noble gesture which I appreciate though it makes me worried about his sanity. It's Gwaine, for crying out loud! No, what I'm really talking about is how withdrawn he's been, how he's stopped drinking, and how all around hopeless he's being…Merlin, when did he start acting like this?"

"Um…remember that patrol we did on that rainy day? When the bandits attacked?"

"Yes, but that was about a month ago! What of it?"

"That's when Gwaine started to behave differently. Elyan, Percival, and I figured it out."

Gwen looked upset. "How could we have not noticed it sooner?" she asked Arthur reproachfully. "Until the recent incident I hadn't realized how odd he's been…"

Clearly frustrated, Arthur glared in the direction that Gwaine had gone. "Before you start reprimanding me, Gwen, rest assured that I'm not angry at Gwaine in the least…okay, maybe a little annoyed with his behavior…but actually I'm worried. Merlin, he's your friend as much as he is mine, if not more. Do you have any idea why he's been so…strange?"

Merlin opened his mouth automatically, then shut it. Well, Arthur, Gwaine told me once that he was a noble from Caerleon, but now I think he's related to the Bernician royalty. Oh, and Gaius and I think that the twins we rescued from slave traders are princes. And they admitted to being Gwaine's cousins. So basically Gwaine has been lying to all of us about himself because apparently he ran away from home ten years ago for reasons that I've not been informed of. Am I sure? Not at all, but Gwaine, Elwin, and Everard all have pendants with the same symbol on them...which just so happens to be on the royal crest of Bernicia. No, we're not sure because the twins are keeping their mouths shut and Gwaine hasn't told me anything personal since he started acting weird except that he used to live in an apple orchard…What? No, Arthur, I did not make this up!

Did Merlin really want to say that to Arthur? And would Arthur believe him, especially if Gwaine decided to deny it? Not at all. "No, I'm afraid I don't, really. Except…it may have something to do with his past." I'll get real answers from Gwaine and then I'll decide to tell Arthur or not.

Arthur groaned. "That must be the case; that, or his heart's been broken. And I'm not sure if that's possible."

"Arthur…" sighed Gwen. But she, along with Merlin, could obviously hear the king's concern.

There is something deeply unsettling about turning a corner to find your much-younger cousin staring at you, blocking your path, Gwaine reflected as he walked straight into the aforesaid situation. Especially when he looks so furious.

"You. In there. Now." Everard pointed to an open door on his left. Gwaine glanced into the room; it looked like an empty guest chamber.

On a normal day, and with anyone else, Gwaine would have thrown a few choice comments in the teenager's direction before going on his way. But it was his cousin and he was feeling strangely helpless, so he obeyed.

Naturally, he felt some trepidation when Everard followed him and bolted the door shut, but instead of offering a challenge, the older man simply dropped into a dusty seat and waited for Everard to start talking.

He didn't have to wait long. "What the hell are you doing?" the boy snarled.

Wow, he could rival Aunt Gerarda with that glare. "Whatever I'm doing, it's making you angry." he asked listlessly. After days, weeks, of avoiding his cousins, he should have felt some release at this confrontation, but instead, he just felt…nothing.

Everard snorted. "How can you serve a Pendragon?"

"Because he's a good man." Gwaine glanced around the room, realizing that something was missing. "Where's Elwin?"

"Endearing himself to the knights by showing off his knife-throwing skills." Distracted from his original line of conversation, Everard now looked downright disgusted. "He likes them. Likes listening to them, too, when he's not teasing the life out of them…"

Gwaine sighed. "Just get on with it, will you?"

"Get on with…what?" Everard's angry glower turned into a look of bemusement.

"Telling me off. Calling me a traitor. Or a…" Gwaine couldn't bring himself to say the word murderer out loud.

"An ass?" Everard suggested. "You have been treating Elwin and I rather badly, you know…"

"Me? Treating you badly? How did you come to that conclusion?" Gwaine demanded.

"You've been avoiding us, shunning us, refusing to talk to us…Just because we haven't seen you in a decade doesn't mean we're not your family." Everard said firmly.

I don't deserve a family. Gwaine had to take a couple shaky breaths before he could speak again. "It's just… you and your brother grew up and I'm not sure what to make of it…I've been gone so long…"

Everard nodded slightly, then pulled something out of his pocket. He dangled it in front of Gwaine.

The pendant. Automatically, Gwaine checked his own neck; his pendant was where it belonged. Heart sinking, Gwaine realized what that meant. "Merlin?"

"Yes. Elwin and I are not wearing ours; your other friends here would need to be blind to miss the implications, and you're clearly not interested in announcing your relationship to us." The last part came out like a threat.

Gwaine stood up, finally a bit of hot anger entering his present emotions. "You are clearly not interested in telling Arthur of your royal blood."

Everard raised his chin defiantly. "You're right. We don't. It's too dangerous. But Merlin knows we're Bernician royalty, or at least suspects. He and that physician…But he won't talk." Everard smiled slightly, and Gwaine's stomach lurched. "I've got a secret about him…"

Before he knew what he was doing, Gwaine was on his feet and had the boy pinned against the nearest wall. "You will not," he growled, his face inches from Everard's, "under any circumstances, tell Arthur about Merlin's magic. He will be killed for it and I refuse to let that happen."

For the first time since they'd found the twins in the woods, Everard looked at least partly terrified. But also speculative. "So you know." A pause. "You trust him?" the teenager whispered. "Though you lied to him; didn't you? You're certainly not from Caerleon."

Gwaine released his cousin and stepped back. "I trust Merlin with my life. And I do not believe that he will tell Arthur about who you…we really are." He took a deep breath before asking, "How much does Merlin know, exactly?"

"He knows that you're our cousin. He knows that the pendant you wear doesn't belong to you; it's Aldwyn's. He knows you ran away from home."

"Does he know why?" If Merlin actually knew the reason for his self-banishment, Gwaine didn't think he could ever face the man again.

Everard shook his head. "I said it was for you to tell, not Elwin or I."

"Thanks a lot." Gwaine muttered. Everard actually laughed before he said quietly,

"I don't want to betray Merlin's secret, not really. I would never desire to give a sorcerer that isn't evil to that Pendragon for judgment. Only as a last resort."

"To save yourself?" Gwaine asked, though he knew that wasn't the case. Not with Everard.

"No. To save my brother." Everard replied steadily.

Of course. He's Barclayn through and through. Rather like Uncle and Aunt…and Father…

"Do you really think that Arthur would turn against you just because your father is the ruler of a kingdom that encourages the use of magic?" Gwaine inquired.

"You tell me. Would Arthur Pendragon turn against us for that?" Everard was glaring again.

Gwaine swallowed. "Uther would've. Arthur, no."

"Are you sure?" When Gwaine did not reply right away, Everard added, "What if he discovered that your sister is a sorceress? And your mother as well?"

"I don't know." Gwaine answered quietly, feeling more helpless than ever. "I don't know anything. I guess I never did."

Everard watched him for a moment before going to the door and unbolting it. "I'd better go check on Elwin." he said. "To make sure he's not getting into trouble."

"Okay."

Everard paused before leaving the room. "We won't say anything, Gwaine. Whether or not you tell Merlin or anyone else about…about yourself…it's your choice. And Elwin and I will support it." Their gazes met. "We are family, even though you're serving a Pendragon." Everard said.

Gwaine nodded, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face. "Barclayns, right?"

Everard responded with a smile of his own before departing to find his brother.

"We're lost." Ryle stated blandly, for at least the twentieth time.

"We are not lost, just…misdirected." Aldwyn countered, patting the neck of his grey stallion with one hand.

"Admit, it, Your Impossibleness, we're lost." Ryle persisted. "We weren't lost while we were sneaking through Rheged, we weren't lost when were prancing through Deira, we weren't lost while skirting The Perilous Lands, but we must have gotten Mercia and Escetir mixed up because we are lost now!"

Aldwyn was typically rather laid back, but a couple weeks of traveling with Ryle had evidently frayed his nerves. He called the older man something unrepeatable, only to be answered with an equally vulgar comment, which soon escalated into a loud shouting match.

Lady Cleva sighed and urged her bay mare forward at a walk, putting some distance between her and the arguing men. They'd follow soon enough; this had happened a couple times already.

Why did I agree to this?

She knew the reason. Actually, there were two, no, three: One, Haralda had caught a very bad cold and had had to stay behind, so she'd asked Cleva to go in her place. As a good friend, Cleva had said yes. Two, Cleva was as fond of the twins Everard and Elwin as anyone else in the court, and the thought of them enslaved made her blood boil.

I may have been born in Caerleon, but my loyalties most definitely lay with the Barclayns.

The third reason was one that she kept a carefully guarded secret.

No longer paying any heed to the men's bickering, she tugged on the chain around her neck, pulling it out from under her collar. Her fingers caressed the slender golden band strung on the chain.

"We are friends, aren't we?"

"That's what the rings are for, silly. They're friendship rings, 'cause they're identical."

"So we remember each other."

"Yeah, so we remember…Come on, Cleva, you don't have to look so serious! If you do you'll end up looking like my Great-Aunt Gytha…" He grinned as she began giggling at the thought. "There, that's better. I don't like to see you frown."

Pretending to be offended, she asked, "Aw, does it bother you that much when I'm sad?" She made an over-exaggerated morose face.

"If I had my way you'd never be sad." His voice was suddenly low and unusually tense. She stared at him in confusion, but suddenly his trademark grin returned. "I expect to see a smile when I get back!"

"I'll always have a smile for you."

She still did.

She just wished that he had come back to collect.

Elen was not stupid. She knew better than to go bursting into Camelot with a bang; that never seemed to work out for anybody, as far as she knew. And a well-dressed woman with a fine steed might go without much question while just passing through a small town, but lurking around in a large city? That would be the height of stupidity.

So Elen had turned herself into a peasant.

Her fine, comfortable traveling trousers and tunic discarded and safely hidden, she now wore a light blue dress made of a rather coarse material. Her cloak was of thick brown cloth, and her golden hair was mostly hidden beneath a grey headscarf. Now she was just a commoner, beneath notice. All right, maybe a rather pretty commoner, but still…

She really didn't like having to leave her horse boarded at a small inn, but she had given the innkeeper quite a nice payoff. She would walk into Camelot.

No one takes particular note of a young woman looking for a maid's job in the castle. Arthur Pendragon won't know what hit him.

She'd get her cousins back without having to enlist Aldwyn and whoever else he'd brought along with him and kill that filthy Pendragon at the same time.

What can possibly go wrong?

The next update should be sooner! (I hope)

Okay, another thing. I absolutely adore all the favorites and follows (sometimes I can't believe that people actually want to read this!), but seriously, I've had only nine reviews so far on this story. Reviews actually do inspire me to write more. So if you like this story, just leave a few words to tell me so. :) That kind of thing really brightens my day!

Until next time!