Chapter Twelve

Hello! Another chapter!

If this long-awaited conversation between between Gwaine and Merlin seems erratic, it's because in my experience, conversations between friends, even 'deep' ones, tend to be a bit...well, erratic.

I hope you enjoy this! It took me hours to get it right!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

It took several moments for Merlin to fully comprehend exactly what Gwaine had said. His automatic protest came tumbling from his lips before he could stop it. "I…I don't…I don't know what you're talking about…" he stammered.

Gwaine interrupted him. "Merlin, calm down. I'm not going to tell anyone." He smiled crookedly. "If I wanted to turn you in, I would've done so years ago."

That brought Merlin's stuttered ramblings to a halt. "How…how long have you known?" he whispered.

"Since the first time I met you. Unlike the Princess, I know magic when I see it. Flying plates and benches aren't exactly hard to miss…if you're looking." Gwaine eyed Merlin. "Don't worry about the twins." he added abruptly. "Everard won't say anything unless it comes to a toss up between your life and his brother's and Elwin won't mention it unless his brother or I tell him to."

Merlin swallowed, wondering how, as usual, Gwaine had managed to turn the tables. "You knew and never told Arthur."

Gwaine snorted. "You were my friend before Arthur was. Besides," he shifted uncomfortably, "I don't believe that magic is evil. Never have, never will. But I think I know why you lied about your magic; self-preservation makes the most sense. Am I right?"

Merlin nodded slightly, then said, "That leads me back to my question: Why did you lie about your past?"

His cobalt blue eyes bored into Gwaine's brown ones. It took a long time for the latter to answer. "I told you before, Merlin. I can't trust myself. So I can't trust anyone."

"Yet you kept my secret."

"That's different."

"Gwaine!" Merlin glared at the knight, frustrated. "You know my secret and you kept it. Can't you trust me enough to tell me yours?"

Gwaine clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes briefly as if to brace himself. Finally, his voice low, he began to speak.

"My name is Gwaine Barclayn, son of Prince Goddard, the younger brother of King Harlan of Bernicia. Everard and Elwin are the king's younger sons; Aldwyn's the oldest and he has a sister a couple years younger named Haralda."

So Gaius and I were right. Everard and Elwin are princes. And Gwaine did lie to me about his past. But Merlin felt more curiosity than anger at the moment.

"Remember when I told you that I disliked nobles? Well, really it was Pendragons that I didn't like. My mother was a young sorceress who had fled the Great Purge; I bet you can imagine some of the stories I grew up with."

Merlin broke the short silence that followed. "The sorceress, Elen. The one I fought earlier. You helped her escape, didn't you? And who is she?"

"So you did fight her. She mentioned you." Gwaine sighed. "Elen's my sister. She was here for the twins; of course I helped her escape. She thought Arthur had abducted them."

"What! Why?" Merlin demanded.

"Search me. She's more prejudiced against magic-haters than I am; and she's always been a rather…volatile person. It wouldn't take much to set her off…a rumor or a suspicion…oh, damn! I told her they were in Camelot!"

Merlin blinked. "What?"

Gwaine let out a growl of frustration. "Have you ever heard of dream telepathy?"

"Not much, but yeah."

"Well, when I was under the influence of that sleeping potion, I saw Elen in a dream. It had happened before…when we were children, Elen was always getting into my dreams. We kind of grew out of it, but that one night…I wasn't thinking straight in that dream, but I still managed to tell her that the twins were in Camelot. She must've taken it the wrong way. So she came marching in here, managing to get herself nearly killed…" He trailed off muttering to himself.

Merlin felt embarrassed. "Um…sorry about that…"

Gwaine waved his hand dismissively. "She was asking for it. She should have found me. Let me guess; she tried to kill you first? Before you stabbed her?"

"Yeah." Merlin frowned. "So she's gone?"

"I told her to go home. Back to Bernicia. I said I'd get the twins home myself."

"Aren't you worried about her?"

Gwaine suddenly glanced away, his eyes suddenly suspiciously bright. "Hell, of course I'm worried about her, Merlin. Wouldn't you be, if it was your sister?"

"Yeah, I would. Gwaine," Merlin asked hesitantly, wondering if this was the right time to ask this question, "Gwaine, when was the last time you saw her? Before tonight?"

"Ten years ago."

"When you ran away from home."

"Ah, so the twins did tell you that much."

"Why'd you do it? Were you unhappy?"

"No. Not…not exactly." Gwaine began shaking all over, almost unnoticeably at first. "I…I loved my family. My life back home. Still do. I had everything I wanted. Being related to the royal family was never entirely safe, of course, but I…I was never afraid. Not really. I was happy. But then I did something…something unforgivable…" His trembling grew worse, his breaths grew shorter. His eyes stared beyond Merlin, at something only he could see. "I was with my father." he whispered. "We'd gone with a patrol to a village on the border of Strathclyde. There'd been some rumors of wolf attacks…Most of the patrol went back to the city, but my father and I went home to our castle farther south…we didn't think we needed guards…but we were attacked…"

Merlin felt his throat constrict slightly with apprehension.

"Bandits. There weren't that many…we were fighting them, I led a couple off, killed them, then I was hiding…I heard a branch break, I panicked…"

By now he was gasping for breath, clearly holding back tears. And suddenly, Merlin didn't want to know what had happened…

"I still don't know why I didn't check…" Gwaine clutched the stone balustrade of the parapet, his knuckles white. "I went lunging around that tree like a fool…and the next thing I knew my sword had gone straight through Father. I killed him."

Gwaine started crying then, almost hysterically, his entire body shaking with sobs. Slumping down against the balustrade, he bent double. Merlin impulsively knelt beside him, uncertain of what to do.

"I'm a murderer, Merlin. And everyone back home knows it. And I know it…it'll never change…that's why I ran, that same day, that same moment, I never went back and I never can…I'm a murderer…"

Merlin waited until Gwaine's anguished sobs subsided somewhat before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "You ran away immediately?"

"Yes, I couldn't bear to face anyone after what I'd done…I just left him lying there…"

"But it was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't mean to kill him." Merlin tried to comfort his friend.

"Yeah, but no one knows that. Running away was a mistake. I made myself look guilty…and anyway the fact that it was an accident doesn't change a thing. I still did it."

Merlin waited, but Gwaine didn't seem inclined to speak anymore. So he murmured, "My father died in my arms. After he sacrificed himself for me. I'd only spent a couple days with him, but it hurt so badly…For a while, I blamed myself." He paused. "How old were you…when it happened? Ten years ago, your cousins said, so you'd be…"

"I'd just turned sixteen." Gwaine drew a shaky breath. "I asked to go on that patrol with Father. It would've been better if I hadn't. Then it wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't be dead. And I wouldn't have run."

Merlin wondered if Gwaine had ever said these things out loud to anyone. Probably not.

"I didn't care where I was going, just that I was gone from Bernicia, far away where I couldn't hurt anyone else I loved. I earned a living, if you can call it that, by using a sword and gambling. I spent some time with bandits…picked up some tips on a lot of things…but then I'd kill them all in their sleep once I'd gained their trust. It happened a few times, I don't really remember…I think I went a bit crazy for a while…A few years back, I stopped being so violent. It was starting to scare me; I didn't want to be a monster anymore. So I started behaving a little less…lethal."

"You started acting like the Gwaine I met." Merlin said quietly.

Gwaine laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Hiding behind gallows humor; I'm great at it. People got tired of me quickly…I told you that once. Kept me from staying in one place too long. But I guess it helped me keep my sanity." Gwaine shuddered. "Some of the things I've seen, Merlin…Compared to some of the places I've been, Camelot's paradise. Even with all the executions, all the fear of something the king doesn't understand…But I've a place here…There's been a few times I've considered leaving, though, if only to keep myself from spitting in Arthur's face when he says something about how evil magic is...Sometimes when he executes a magic user, even though it's not often, I can only see my mother's siblings…the uncles and aunt I never knew because Uther killed them for the magic they were born with…I can hide a surprising amount of fury behind my laugh, Merlin."

Merlin could barely process what Gwaine was telling him. Uther had killed some of the knight's family? Suddenly the hatred on Gwaine's face the time he'd faced Uther made a lot more sense.

Gwaine kept speaking, "Arthur's different, even though he's often so insufferable. And I've seen how devoted you are to him…That's what caught my interest from the start. A sorcerer, choosing to serve a master who would have him killed if the truth were known? You're a far braver man than I, Merlin. But I don't know how you can do it. How can you serve him? I can because despite the fact that I'm related to at least two sorceresses, I don't have magic. And I'm an exile. Camelot's as safe as anywhere. Also, I trust your judgment. But why, Merlin?"

Merlin didn't even think of lying. "Because it's my destiny."

Gwaine smiled a little. "Your destiny is to serve and protect Arthur Pendragon?" When Merlin nodded in confirmation, Gwaine said, "I wish I knew mine."

"Trust me, it's a pain at times."

Gwaine chuckled, but quickly grew quiet. "Your father…who was he?"

Merlin swallowed. "His name was Balinor." Gwaine's eyes flashed in recognition of the name. Forestalling the question, Merlin explained, "He was a Dragonlord."

Gwaine grinned. "Aha. That explains the wyverns." Serious again, he asked, "What was he like?"

"Strange. Lonely. Wary. But…He knew who I was. For a day." It still hurt to speak of it. "He was my father. As I said before, he could have taught me so much. But he never had the chance."

"I guess that dragon's not dead then?"

"No." Merlin inquired softly, "What was your father like? Since it turned out that you actually did know him?"

Gwaine winced. "Merlin, I lied to you because…I couldn't face it myself. It had nothing to do with you personally…It was easier to pretend that I never knew my father than to admit that I ended his life."

Merlin nodded to show that he understood. Because he did.

Apparently relieved, Gwaine leaned back against the balustrade. "He was kind. Understanding. Protective. He loved horses. And he was a brilliant swordsman."

"He taught you?"

"Yes. He was Uncle Harlan's favorite advisor; unusual, actually, most kings hate their brothers like poison. Afraid of insubordination, I suppose. But Father and Harlan trusted each other. That's just it…Father was trustworthy. He was honest. He believed that nobility is defined by what you do, not who you are."

Merlin started at the familiar phrase. "So he taught you that, too."

"Yes. He did have his own prejudices, of course. For instance, he hated Pendragons with a passion, if only because Mother did. But as much as possible, he judged people by their actions, not their blood. He never put on airs about being noble. As a result, I didn't either. Not often, anyways. Sometimes it was fun; using my rank as cousin to the Crown Prince in order to get what I wanted; but for the most part, I tried to follow Father's example. Many of my friends were commoners, actually. Like Hayden…You'd like him, I think."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, he tames wyverns, for starters."

Merlin laughed incredulously. "That's impossible!"

"No, it's not!" Gwaine grinned slyly. "Why do you think I know so much about them, Merlin?"

"Well…" Merlin frowned slightly, considering. "You do seem to be able to recognize them from a distance…and you knew what they were before I did…"

"Trust me, if you've ever had to feed a wyvern by hand, you'd be able to recognize one anywhere." Gwaine smiled reminiscently. "They make a particular screechy, hissing noise when they're hungry."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "You fed a wyvern? Wouldn't that have been your friend's job?"

"Oh, Hayden was devoted to his scaly fiends. But he dared me to feed one once, and after that I just kind of got into the habit of helping…when I had the time to visit. He and his father lived a few miles outside of the city. Their family had been involved in taming wyverns for a few generations…they never had a whole lot of them at one time, though. To much to handle." Then he looked back at Merlin, the mischievous look in his eyes almost blotting out the sadness. "Right then; I've just spilled my guts, now you tell me when you first realized that you had magic."

Dawn was but a couple hours away when the two friends parted ways and headed for their living quarters. Their conversation had been for the most part rambling; each taking turns to share parts of their pasts.

Merlin told Gwaine about his secret involvement in many of the momentous events in Camelot. The dark-haired knight looked pained when he heard the stories of horrible treatment and revenge of magic users in Camelot, but roared with laughter when he heard the slightly more humorous accounts such as the tale of Arthur's troll stepmother and Gaius' goblin-induced hunger for gold.

In return, Gwaine told Merlin about his childhood in Bernicia (steering clear of any mention of his father's death or the aftermath). Merlin was fascinated; Gwaine had grown up around magic in a way that even Merlin had never experienced. Apparently, in Bernicia, wyvern-tamers were hardly the strangest thing around. Sorcerers practiced their magic openly; healers in particular were revered. Magical creatures were allowed to roam about, unless of course they started killing people or livestock. "The number of hunts Uncle Harlan went on after magical creatures…He could almost beat Arthur on that score!" When Merlin mentioned the adventure he'd had with Arthur and the unicorn, Gwaine revealed that he'd also seen a unicorn before. "Aldwyn, Haralda, and I were on a ride when it just appeared out of the trees…It was the most beautiful creature we'd ever seen. We just sat there and watched it for at least an hour before it finished grazing and moved on."

Mostly, Gwaine talked about his family. Merlin's head was practically spinning with the tales of Gwaine's great-aunt Gytha, who knew ancient stories from almost every known kingdom, handsome Aldwyn, the Crown Prince who even as a teenager could best any man with a crossbow, Aunt Gerarda who had apparently ridden to war with her brothers before she had got married to the ruler of Strathclyde, and a few others whom Merlin had trouble keeping straight. Gwaine had also had many friends; mainly cordial acquaintances, with a small group of close companions including his cousin Aldwyn. Rather like his relationship now with the other knights…

That was about when Merlin asked about the pendant.

The mention of the small trinket made Gwaine wince, but he answered easily enough, "Uncle Harlan had four of these made." He rubbed the silver object between his thumb and forefinger. "One for each of his children. Something about some anniversary or other, I think…Anyway, I nicked Aldwyn's before I went on that…that last patrol. It was a joke, nothing more. We would have laughed over it later. But then, after what happened…" Gwaine trailed off unhappily, staring into the distance.

Not wanting to force Gwaine into reliving his father's death again that night, Merlin asked as lightly as he could, "What about girls, Gwaine? You've always bragged about your flirting talent being practiced early, and you've barely mentioned any so far!"

It worked, at least, Gwaine cheered up a bit momentarily. "Oh, girls barely noticed me around Aldwyn. He had half of the young female population swooning over him before he turned fifteen! But I did get plenty of leftovers, so to speak…and lots of pointers on how to win a woman's favor." He laughed softly. "Oh, and there was Cleva, of course."

"Who?"

"Lady Cleva, rather. She had a hard early life; her father died when she was very young, her brother not long after…She and her mother arrived in Bernicia sometime around her ninth birthday. Cleva had an obvious stutter when she was younger…result of some bad experiences…" Gwaine's expression darkened slightly as he continued, "Lots of other kids teased her for it…I was almost twelve, I think, when we first met…Anyway, I ended up beating on the bullies who messed with her. Helped me perfect my fist fighting techniques, let me tell you. At first I was just her protector; she was rather in awe of me, I'm afraid. But later we became friends. I think I was her best friend, actually." Gwaine hooked his fingers on the slender golden ring on the chain around his neck. "That's what this is from. Friendship rings, see. She has…had, at least…an identical one." Gwaine had then changed the subject.

For some reason, when Merlin had finally reached his room and was stretched out on his bed, it was Gwaine's mention of Cleva that occupied him the most. That, and the wyvern tamer Hayden. Imagine, taming a dragon-like creature without being a Dragonlord…probably couldn't manage an actuall dragon, though…

I'm going to have to meet some of these people one day…Hopefully I'll be able to keep all Gwaine's family members' names straight…

And with that thought, the exhausted warlock drifted off to sleep.

Gwaine was paying dearly, by way of a headache and constant drowsiness, for his late night spent talking to Merlin. But he didn't regret it; emotionally, he felt better than he had in weeks.

But he was still worried. He had plenty to worry about.

First off, he was still concerned for his sister. Tough as he knew she was, he worried for her safety. Wasn't that natural? Even if she'd been trying to murder the king of Camelot…well, he'd been tempted a few times…

Also, Arthur had decided not to delay the task of escorting the twins home much longer, since there'd been no sign of further suspicious activity. Gwaine was now faced with the problem of what to do when he brought them home as he had promised.

And speaking of the twins, how was it going to be, escorting them home? Gwaine and Everard might have come to an understanding days ago, but the usually gregarious Elwin was keeping his distance, whether of his own volition or under his protective brother's orders Gwaine couldn't tell.

But he did have to talk to them. As soon as possible.

'As soon as possible' resulted in Gwaine dragging a reluctant Elwin into a broom closet, while Everard followed, demanding that the older man release his brother or else. But fairly soon, Gwaine had both of them locked in the closet with him, though now they both were protesting in very loud whispers.

"Elen was here last night." he finally snapped, mostly to shut them up.

It worked long enough for him to explain. "She came to Camelot under the guise of a kitchen maid. For some reason, she got it into her head that Arthur had kidnapped you, and she planned to get you out and kill Arthur at the same time. Merlin stopped her, and I got her out of Camelot. Merlin and I had a long chat; he knows all about us now, and he won't tell, I can assure you of that." He paused to take a breath.

Everard instantly spoke up. "Merlin stopped Elen? What happened?"

"He stabbed her. I think." Gwaine still wasn't clear on the details; he'd known better that to ask. He really didn't want to know.

Of course, that revelation that Merlin stabbed Elen didn't go over well. "He what?" both twins shrieked simultaneously, then promptly began to talk at the same time, mostly threatening Merlin with all sorts of violent revenge.

Gwaine smacked them both on the back of the head to get them to shut up. "Listen, she was trying to kill the king. Now I know that you two don't approve of him because he's a Pendragon…" this earned a snort from Everard and a sheepish look from Elwin, "…but he did save your lives. He's intending to take you home, which is more than most kings would do. He's a good man, as hard as that may be for you to believe; it took me a long time too. Elen will be fine, she used magic to heal herself." No need to worry them unduly. "She'll meet us at home. I'm telling you this because you have the right to know. And you'd better not try to punish Merlin or Arthur for what happened to Elen; if anyone should be angry, it's me. She's my sister, not yours. Now go do whatever it is you were doing when I dragged you in here." Gwaine unlocked the door and shooed the boys out. They meandered off, glaring over their shoulders and muttering mutinously.

Gwaine sighed and rubbed his temples as they disappeared around a corner. I might be untrustworthy around ale and sleeping draughts, but I don't care; I'm going to get a headache cure from Gaius.

"You rat-brained useless lump! This is your fault!"

"It's no more my fault than yours, you pompous, fancy, royal troll!"

Cleva was very, very close to grabbing the nearest cooking pot from her saddlebag and throwing it at Ryle or Aldwyn. Preferably it would hit both of them.

Honestly, why can't they read a map…

Perhaps it was outdated. Always a possibility. But Aldwyn had the map right now so she couldn't check.

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Cleva urged her horse forward away from the arguing men. Scanning the trees ahead of her, she glimpsed something; something that made her pull up quickly. "Oi!" she bellowed, reveling in the fact that she could shout without stammering anymore. "You idiots!" she turned to look at the confused faces of Ryle and Aldwyn. "Isn't that a road?" She waved her hand at the nearby wheel tracks, clearly visible through the trees.

Tired. I'm tired.

Elen slumped over the neck of her white mare. She'd tried to use her magic to heal herself more than once, but it wasn't working properly.

I'm a warrior, an enchantress, not a healer. And that curse may not have been meant for me, but it isn't helping me any.

The curse would not kill her. That was not the way it worked; it was meant to kill Arthur and Arthur alone. But it had weakened her.

I want to rest. But I can't; I have to get home…

Mother. Her mother would be able to help.

But I'm so tired…

When the men attacked her, she didn't even manage to put up a fight.

There you are! I hope that it was worth the wait!

Just in case you were wondering, I actually took some particular care in choosing most of my OCs' names.

For instance: Everard means "brave as a boar", Elwin means "friend of the elves" (in my mind, the mischievous type), Aldwyn means "an old or wise friend", and Gerarda (the warlike aunt) means "brave spear woman".

As for Hayden and Ryle: Hayden has several meanings, one of which is "hay hill", while Ryle is similar as it can mean "rye hill". Plus, it rhymes with "rile", which is what he does to everyone around him... :D

I'll try to update soon!