Chapter Fifteen
Hello, everyone!
I'm so sorry about the late update...Suffice to say, I've had a rough couple weeks; mostly because of the INSANE number of orchestra rehearsals/concerts/competitions I've had to perform in. Then inspiration was lacking...oh, well, I'm back now.
Okay, I have a WARNING for this chapter! There is a plot twist brought up near the end which some of you may hate me for. But give it a try, anyway. (Bear in mind that I've been planning it since the very beginning.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Smoke from the campfire drifted up and into the tall trees surrounding the camp. The soft evening sky was tinted violet above the green leaves. Most of the knights were simply lounging about, resting after their hard day's ride. Ryle had slipped off into the woods as he tended to do during the evening. Everard and Elwin where sparring with swords, supervised by a anxious Aldwyn and an entertained Leon. But two of the travelers were actually working.
Cleva handed Merlin a handful of herbs she'd found nearby, which he took with a grateful smile. For the last four days, she and Merlin had been sharing cooking duties. It worked out well; mostly because it was easy for them to be amiable towards each other. Merlin was rather sweet, Cleva had found.
She'd also noticed that Gwaine hadn't been speaking much to anyone but the manservant.
And he'd definitely been avoiding her. Though she'd be lying if she said he was avoiding her more than the others.
Blasted stubborn Barclayns. He wasn't the only one who was acting like an idiot.
So far, Aldwyn had managed to behave like an ass (or at the very least extremely grumpy) towards just about everyone but his younger brothers and Arthur; and the latter was only because Aldwyn had to have a grudging sort of respect for a king that he wasn't at war with. Plus every time the prince verged on rudeness, Gwaine glared at him so fiercely that he shut up.
Ryle was no better. Actually, he was worse because he never even tried being polite to anyone.
As if to make up for it, the twins were very friendly towards the knights of Camelot. From what Cleva could tell, Everard and Elwin had made themselves liked already. Elwin cracked jokes constantly, often lightening everyone's mood while Everard cleverly saved the conversation in several awkward moments; mainly whenever Arthur got to close to the subjects of magic and royalty in relation to the kingdom of Bernicia and Aldwyn would responded with uncomfortable silence.
Cleva had almost immediately decided to cast in her lot with the twins and befriend the knights (though she avoided the king). They were all good and honorable men; that was clear at once.
And Elyan and Percival weren't nobles.
While talking those two knights on the second day of traveling together, Cleva had heard the story of how they helped Arthur retake Camelot when the witch Morgana took over the first time.
"He knighted four of us the night before we went back to Camelot." Elyan had explained. "Lancelot…he died a year or so ago…he was a good man…then Gwaine, then me and Percival. Even though we were commoners." Elyan had laughed a little then. "Arthur admitted beforehand that it wasn't something his father would approve of."
Cleva had wondered wryly if Uther Pendragon would be more offended at the idea of Gwaine the commoner or Gwaine Barclayn being a Knight of Camelot.
His friends clearly don't know that he's a noble.
And she understood why. If she was Gwaine, she'd keep her identity secret in Camelot, too.
But she just wished that he'd talk to her.
I've missed him. A lot.
"Cleva?" Cleva shook herself from her thoughtful daze and looked up into Merlin's concerned blue eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
She forced a quick smile and shrugged. "Yes, I'm fine…just…" Her eyes flickered over to where Gwaine was leaning against a pile of saddlebags, watching Elwin and Everard fight.
Merlin followed her gaze. "Gwaine?" he murmured.
"Yes. Him and Aldwyn. And the whole bloody business."
Merlin didn't ask what business she meant. She wondered if he already knew to some extent exactly how messy the whole situation was.
It's not my place to explain it if he doesn't. Still, it could hurt to let a little of her worry out…
"You can trust me." Merlin said, as if reading her thoughts.
Cleva sighed and stirred the pot of stew. "You know, Aldwyn's not usually like this with his brothers." After a short pause, she clarified, "I mean, he's usually not so…easy on them. He's always been a good brother to them; you know, taking them on hunts, teaching them to use a crossbow…But usually he's rather harsh with them. But now he fusses over them constantly. It's just a bit unnerving. For me, at least. It's…" Cleva made a frustrated gesture with one hand. "Aldwyn and his sister Haralda…They're kind of, well, rough with everyone. Even their parents, sometimes. And now Aldwyn's getting nervous if they ride their horses at a gallop…"
Merlin nodded slightly. "I suppose it's normal; I mean, before you lot met up with us, for all he knew they were dead. I'd say he's just very relieved."
"You're right." Cleva replied quickly. "Of course, he's relieved that they're okay; so am I, to be honest. But it's also the way he's treating Gwaine…Like he's done something wrong. Well, I can kind of see why…" Cleva glanced around to make sure none of the knights were close enough to be eavesdropping. "Um…Aldwyn and his family…they don't like Pendragons much…just on principle…"
"Ah, I get it." Merlin grinned at her. "Since they're Barclayns, who allow magic in their kingdom…"
Cleva blinked. "Okay…so, you know that Aldwyn is Gwaine's cousin and that they're…"
"They're part of the royal family of Bernicia?" Merlin sighed. "Gwaine told me…not too long ago, after the; before that he'd lied to me." For an instant, the usually easygoing manservant appeared almost angry.
Cleva was prevented from asking exactly lies Gwaine had told Merlin by Arthur Pendragon's enthusiastic yell of, "Merlin! Is that stew nearly ready or not?"
Gwaine scooped up a spoonful of thick stew, stared at it for a moment, then dropped the spoon back into the bowl. His stomach was churning so badly that he didn't think he could eat anything without throwing it up.
Damn it, Elen, what the hell is going on?
Once, long ago, shared dreams and sensing each other's emotions had been normal for Elen and Gwaine. Mostly, he attributed it to her magic and her seemingly boundless desire to poke her nose into his business.
After a few years, however, Gwaine's ability to tell exactly what his sister was thinking had seemingly vanished. They had drifted apart; she became their mother's student, learning the art of magic; he became his father's pupil, learning the rules of state as he learned to use a sword. So the siblings had, so to speak, gone their separate ways. Until that strange incident in the cloudy dreamscape, Gwaine hadn't spoken to his sister in a dream for years and years.
And he blamed that on Gaius's sleeping potion.
But now he was sensing Elen's emotions again. Sometimes hardly at all, other times, like now, overwhelmingly.
Terror. Pain. Loneliness. None of these things were what Gwaine often associated with his sister.
Mostly pain.
If someone had hurt his sister…
I'll kill them. I'll find them and I'll kill them slowly and painfully.
No one else seemed to notice his uneasiness. All around him, the other members of the company ate their dinner, talked, and laughed. Even Aldwyn seemed to relax and let out a chuckle when Elwin made a sly joke about Camelot cloaks and what perfect targets they must be.
Gwaine looked back down at his stew and swallowed. He really should eat; the journey ahead would only get harder and he'd need his strength. But he just couldn't bring himself to.
"Seasoning not to your liking, Gwaine?" Elyan called from across the campfire. "You're making quite a face at that stew!"
"Maybe we should get Merlin to fetch some herbs that better suit Gwaine's taste!" joked Percival.
The other knights laughed, and Gwaine forced a quick smile before forcing himself to swallow a spoonful of the food. The others moved on to another subject, but Gwaine noticed Merlin staring at him.
He was immensely grateful when, a couple minutes later, Merlin stood up and said to the camp in general, "I'm going to get more firewood. Does anyone want to come with me?"
A perfect excuse to get out of the camp for a bit. "Sure, mate, I'll come. Can't guarantee I'll be much help, though." Gwaine managed a joke as he hastily put down his bowl, stood up, and walked over to join Merlin.
Ryle, seated on a log at the very edge of the camp, smirked and said, as Merlin and Gwaine walked past him into the forest, "Someone that pitifully scrawny shouldn't be out alone. Probably a good thing a knight's going with him." His voice held a lot of malice.
Gwaine paused, for a second tempted to give Ryle a nice black eye for the comment. But then he heard Elyan exclaim, "Excuse me? Merlin may not be a knight, but he's stronger than he looks, you know!"
"Is that so?" Ryle shot back.
Satisfied by the resulting clamor coming from Merlin's friends that the manservant would be well-defended in his absence against Ryle's insults, Gwaine hurried after his friend.
Once they were out of earshot of the camp, Merlin stopped and turned to Gwaine. "You really don't look well, Gwaine. Is it your sister?"
Gwaine nodded. "It's worse than usual."
"Have you heard her voice in your head again?"
Indicating the negative, Gwaine began to scour the forest floor for firewood, avoiding Merlin's gaze. No, he hadn't heard Elen's voice; he almost wished that he would. He could learn more from words than mostly vague emotions.
"Do you have any idea where she is?"
"No, Merlin; I've said it a hundred times; I do not!" Gwaine snapped. Quickly regretting his words, he took a deep breath to calm himself before turning to face his friend again. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I know you only want to help."
"Help with what?"
Gwaine spun around. Aldwyn came sauntering through the trees, casually swinging a long stick in his right hand. "We need to talk." he added when it became clear that neither Merlin nor Gwaine were going to answer his query. His grey eyes flickered from Gwaine's face to Merlin and back again.
Gwaine forced himself to remain calm as he stooped to pick up another piece of wood. "Whatever you have to say to me, cousin, you can say in front of Merlin."
"Really." Aldwyn started smacking the stick he held against the nearest tree.
"Yes, really!" Gwaine snarled.
"Gwaine," Merlin murmured, "If you need me to leave…"
"No, you can stay here, Merlin, I mean that. Aldwyn, if you want to talk, start talking." Gwaine straightened and looked straight into his cousin's eyes.
Aldwyn glowered at him. "Well then, here goes…You became a knight of Camelot. I ought to beat you up for that." His voice held a tiny twinge of dark humor.
"You're welcome to try." Gwaine replied icily. "You'd lose and you know it."
"But a knight of Camelot?"
"You sound like Everard." Behind him, Gwaine could hear Merlin collecting fallen branches for firewood, but he was obviously listening hard. Somehow Gwaine found that a comfort. "He asked me how I could serve a Pendragon."
"With good reason!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"He's a Pendragon, Gwaine!" Aldwyn nearly shouted. "He's the son of Uther! A man who, in secret, threatened Bernicia with war over refugees from his Great Purge!" Well, that's news to me. "Thank God he was a coward…and didn't bother his son with that information…"
"Precisely! Arthur has never threatened Bernicia! He barely knows anything about it! Also, he's a good man. An honorable man. He does not pursue those with magic like wild animals across distant borders!"
"Now, perhaps. But had Arthur been old enough to fight at the time of the Great Purge, do you think he would have hesitated to chase after your mother?"
"Don't bring Mother into this! That's beside the point, anyway! I serve Arthur as one of his knights of my own free will. He is nothing like Uther was!"
"Oh, so you met the snake himself, then?"
"Yeah, he tried to execute me." Gwaine couldn't help but feel a bit of triumph at Aldwyn's almost comical reaction.
The prince was practically spluttering in astonishment and fury. "He…he dared? He wanted to execute a Barclayn? That bastard!"
"He didn't know I was a Barclayn, Aldwyn." Gwaine said tiredly. He didn't like to remember that particular run-in with Uther Pendragon.
Aldwyn's eyes narrowed suddenly. "What did you do, anyway?"
"Oh, I attacked a couple of nobles. Though it turned out later that they weren't who they said they were at all…"
Aldwyn appeared to be, of all things, offended. "Well, I hope you realize that if Uther had executed you and we found out, Father would've started a war."
Whole lot of comfort that would have been to me. "Is this the right time to let you know that Arthur was the one who talked his father out of it? If it weren't for Arthur, I'd be dead. Trust me."
"Humph." Aldwyn glared at Gwaine for a minute, then drew in his breath sharply. "Why the hell did you run, cousin?"
Gwaine suddenly felt cold all over. His roiling stomach was almost forgotten. "Must you ask?" he replied flatly. "Seems pretty obvious to me." Out of the corner of his eye, Gwaine noted that Merlin had abandoned the very pretense of gathering more wood and was standing still, watching the exchange.
"Yes, I can understand how you must've been terrified; but running off like that? That…that hurt, damn you! Did it occur to you that we might be worried? That we might wonder where you were and if you were still alive?" Aldwyn's voice grew increasingly desperate-sounding as he spoke.
Gwaine found himself suddenly unable to look into Aldwyn's eyes. "I don't deserve your worry." he whispered in stark contrast to his cousin's loud words.
His cousin simply looked furious. "Father sent men after you, you know! And I tried to find you, too…more than once. But you were very good at covering your tracks. But, in all honesty, Gwaine, you shouldn't have…"
"You don't have to tell me that I'm a fool and a coward! I know that well enough already!" Gwaine's voice cracked. Don't even think about crying…in front of Aldwyn it would be so humiliating…
Aldwyn's face suddenly contorted into a pained expression. "Blast it all, Gwaine, it was a bloody accident. If it was anyone's fault, it was those bandits who attacked you! No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!"
It took a minute for Merlin to understand why Gwaine's face had gone so white.
No one blames you for it! No one! Least of all your father!
By the Great Dragon! Merlin gasped as it hit him. By use of the present tense, Aldwyn was implying that Gwaine's father wasn't dead.
But…how?
Merlin's mind went back to Gwaine's words on that parapet days ago. "…I never went back and I never can…I'm a murderer…"
Merlin had wondered a bit then how Gwaine could be so sure that his family knew that he'd killed his own father, but then, they probably weren't stupid and could put two and two together. Besides, Gwaine was so overwhelmed with guilt that he most likely didn't think through his family's reaction all that thoroughly anyhow.
But if his father is actually alive…then they do know exactly what happened. But how exactly…
Merlin was snapped from his thoughts by Aldwyn's panicked exclamation. "Gwaine? Are you all right?"
Gwaine looked close to collapse. "Father is…alive?" he choked out.
Aldwyn looked utterly confused. "What? Gwaine, what do you…" His breath caught suddenly. "Oh, dear God." he whispered. "You thought he…you didn't know that he survived?"
Gwaine didn't respond; instead he simply stared at nothing for a few long moments. Merlin considered putting down his armful of firewood; just in case Gwaine actually fell over and needed someone to catch him.
"Gwaine…" Aldwyn said shakily, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…" Hesitantly, he moved as if to embrace his cousin.
But Gwaine pushed him away, stumbling backwards. "No…"
Aldwyn halted. "Gwaine, I…"
"Leave me alone!" Gwaine screamed suddenly, throwing the words at his cousin like rocks.
Then he started to stride away from them; not running, but moving quickly enough to almost disappear into the surrounding trees seconds later. Merlin and Aldwyn stared blankly after him.
The Bernician prince shook himself out of his shocked state first. "I'm going after him." he stated, moving to follow his cousin.
Merlin made a hasty decision and stepped into Aldwyn's path. "No, you're not going after him; I am. Take this back to the camp." He shoved his armful of firewood at Aldwyn, who took it only reflexively.
As Merlin made to head after Gwaine, Aldwyn spoke angrily, "Excuse me, but he's my cousin, not yours, and I…"
"And you've upset him enough already for one day." Merlin faced the older man and added in a gentler tone, "He shouldn't be alone right now; I think we both agree on that; but I honestly don't think you'd be able to help him."
"And you think that you can?" Aldwyn shot back.
Well…"Look, I'm sorry, but…I think that I know him better at the moment. I mean…"
"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Merlin." Aldwyn looked into the woods for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Go on, then. I…we don't want him to run off again, now do we?"
Merlin nodded slightly. "Take that wood back to camp, will you?" Then he started off through the trees.
Okay, there it is, readers! midnightdove: I think you saw this coming.
If the ending seems weird, it's because the chapter just "ended" for me there. Oh, my impossible imagination...
I'll try to update sooner next time!