- Enjoy!

I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.

Chapter 17

Arthur opens his eyes slowly, dreams fading and awareness creeping back in as he takes in his surroundings. Damp curved ceilings, the crackle of a fire, and the smell of ointments tells him that he is in Gaius' chambers. Tilting his head to the side the king groans at the stiffness in his neck, arms and legs pushing down into a stretch as he curls his spine off of the wooden palate beneath him. For all of Gaius' skills, creating a comfortable bed has never been at the top of the list.

"It's good to see you awake, Sire" the old physician's voice grumbles out from beside him, gentle hands pressing at his pulse and lifting his eyelids.

"Gaius" the king croaks out, voice scratchy from sleep. He inhales deeply through his nose as he pushes himself up into a seated position, blankets pooling at his waist. The older man's hands reach out to steady him as he moves.

"Take it slowly, sire. You have been asleep for some time". A cup is passed into Arthur's hands, and he drinks from it greedily.

"What happened?" the blonde asks, flashes of memory from the forest playing in his mind's eye. He can picture his sister grinning callously as she dangles him above the ground, and a knife glinting dangerously. The king's hand drifts up to brush over his chest. He looks down, expecting to see bandages hiding a wound. Instead, his fingers are greeted with smooth skin; the only sign of injury being a small, pink line next to his heart.

The king's brow furrows in bewilderment. He blinks questioningly up at the physician next to him. "But I remember the knife" he starts, "how…. how is this possible?"

Gaius' eyes flicker to the side guardedly. He turns away to re-fill the king's cup, moving across the room. "The wound was not deep, Sire. Your armour took much of the damage" Crossing back to the king the physician hands back the cup. "You were very lucky, Arthur".

Confusion races through Arthur's mind. This cannot be. He can remember the dagger, the pain as it cut into him. The hardness of the earth as he had fallen to the ground. Something else is tugging at his memory that he cannot place. A voice, perhaps? He shakes his head groggily, legs swinging over the side of the palate, hands rubbing at his temples.

"That just can't be" he says to Gaius. "Even if that were true, this scar looks old; long healed. There must be something else, something that you aren't telling me."

The physician pauses momentarily. He has moved over to his worktable now, hands busying themselves with preparing herbs. "I only speak as I found, sire. My poultices are able to heal very quickly. I am flattered that you are so impressed by their effectiveness".

Arthur frowns at Gaius' vague and dismissive tone. The older man will not meet his gaze as he works, eyes stalwartly cast downward.

Standing, the king approaches the physician, moving close to his side. "Whilst your healing skills never fail us, Gaius, I am aware of what is possible and what is not. And this" the king gestures to his chest, "is not possible. Unless you are to tell me that I have been unconscious for weeks on end?".

The king searches the face of his mentor keenly, frustration and uncertainty brewing within him. Something isn't adding up, something that he is missing.

The physician's mask is calm as he regards his leader, voice steady. "You have been asleep for less than a day, Arthur. But I cannot tell you what isn't true; you have been incredibly lucky, and we are both fortunate and relieved that you are safe and well again".

Gaius resumes organising his possessions, eyes focused on the task at hand. "Morgana is a skilled and cunning sorceress" he continues. "It is quite possible that she tricked you into seeing things that were not there. Perhaps she wished to cause you pain but keep you alive." The old mans shrugs, "It is impossible to know her motives".

"No!" Arthur cuts the older man of firmly, disbelieving of the story being fed to him. "No, Gaius. I know that she intended to kill me. I felt the blade next to my heart, I felt death come for me".

A thought suddenly strikes the king as he speaks, re-taking stock of his surroundings.

"How is it that I am even here?" he asks the physician. "Our horses were scattered, my men unconscious." The king paces as he speaks. "It would have taken at least a day to get back to Camelot on foot, longer with injuries". He stops to turn to Gaius. "You said that I have only been sleeping for a day?"

The physician nods, eyes careful as he watches the king fit the pieces together. "But, by that calculation then we must have returned back at Camelot within hours of Morgana's ambush!"

"I would estimate, that it was minutes", Gaius finally interrupts the younger man.

Arthur blinks, face blank. "Minutes?" he asks, as though he hadn't heard correctly.

"Minutes", Gaius confirms. The room falling silent.

"But…" the king fumbles for words "How is that possible?"

Gaius' hands stop in their work as he regards his leader. "It is a mystery, sire." He replies. "No one is sure how it happened. That morning you left – as you remember – and that afternoon you suddenly appeared again, with all of your men. Out of thin air."

Another pause. "Where?" Arthur asks weakly, mind reeling as he tries to process Gaius' words.

"In the courtyard" comes the response. "Although", the physician continues, "You appeared directly in my chambers, along with Sir Gwaine.".

Arthur looks around the room, baffled. "We appeared in here?". His face is incredulous. Gaius' words finally click, however, and his next question is full of concern.

"Gwaine was wounded?" he asks, forehead furrowing.

Gaius nods but holds his hands out placatingly, "Not grievously, Sire. He is resting in one of the castle chambers, and will be as well as can be after some more rest".

The king is relieved at hearing that his friend is unharmed. Sighing, he sits back down on the palate, his hand reflexively hovering over the new scar on his chest. How could any of this be possible? How can a person be in one place, and then another, moments later? How -

Arthur freezes, cold realisation dawning as events connect together. Memories of Cenred's dungeons, of defeated blue eyes flashing gold. "I'm taking us home"... Merlin had said – and he had. Moments later they had been outside of Camelot's walls. And Arthur had left Merlin there, never looking back.

Anger, guilt, and shame ripple through him at the recollection. He blinks harshly, as though it will remove the images from his mind.

"Magic" he whispers to the room, confusion clearing as he realises the truth of it.

"Sire?" Gaius' voice lifts him fully from his thoughts.

"It was magic, Gaius. That brought us back here. And I suspect" he continues, eyeing his chest, "it is what healed me, too".

Was it him? - Can it have been him, after all that I have done?

The physician's expression is neutral and blank. "It is not impossible, Sire. However, I am afraid that I cannot help when it comes to knowledge on such dark abilities. I have not seen magic practiced since your father forbad it all those years ago. It would take a brave and foolish person indeed, to perform such sorcery on the king."

Arthur hums absent-mindedly as he thinks, Gaius continuing about his work around him. The king's eyes glance over to the older man appraisingly, taking stock of his words. Could the old man know about Merlin? He had been a father to the boy, but perhaps Merlin had chosen to lie to him too – to hide who he truly was from him, just had he had done to Arthur.

The king can't help the swell of betrayal he feels at the thought. So many years of deceit and lies; it seems so impossible to navigate where the truth amongst them really sits. If there is any truth to find at all.

Either way, Arthur cannot be sure of Gaius' involvement. He is certainly claiming ignorance, however Arthur can't help but feel that the old physician knows more than he is telling him. The young king has always relied on Gaius' loyalty and candour to guide him, and he feels even more at sea knowing that he must try and piece this together alone. If the older man is not aware of Merlin's true identity, then he will not burden him by revealing it now.

Arthur has no proof that the servant even did come to their aid. But if not Merlin, then who? Who could possibly want to protect Arthur in such a way? Who else could know to bring Arthur here, to Gaius' chambers, where he could be healed?

"Sire? Are you well?"

Arthur realises that he must have been silent for some time; Gaius is peering over at him with concern in his gaze.

Forcing a quick smile Arthur stands again, reaching for a discarded shirt next to the palate.

"Yes, thank you Gaius". His voice is muffled by the faded material as he throws the garment on, noting for the first time the lack of pain from the injuries he had sustained in Cenred's kingdom. In fact, the king can't remember a time when he has felt more rested.

It must be the magic... his mind supplies, as he considers this new detail.

Making his thanks and excuses to Gaius, Arthur leaves the damp chambers swiftly, his thoughts racing with questions. Perhaps his knights will have more answers; they may have seen something – or someone.

Meanwhile, back in his rooms Gaius lets out a deep breath and sits heavily into his chair. Staring into the fire his eyebrows furrow deeply, lost in thought.

When Gwaine wakes he is surprised to find himself warm and comfortable, and free of pain. Sitting up the knight is even more surprised to find himself in bed in one of the palace rooms, morning sun streaming through the windows. He is alone.

In one swift movement the Irishman rips the sheets from his body to peer at his leg; the same one that the day before had been broken beyond any aid. There it was before of him, whole and entirely undamaged. The only sign of any trauma a small, pink scar. Gwaine runs his hand over it disbelievingly, noting too that his shoulder was healed. In fact, not one part of the knight hurt. Despite having been thrown at considerable force into several trees, there wasn't a single bruise or blemish to be found. He was the picture of health, and he knew who he had to thank for it.

"Oh Merlin" he sighs, grinning like a cat. "You beauty".

His smile soon fades however at the thought of his friend. He had looked so lost in the forest, so desperate. Face gaunt and eyes hollow, darting about himself cautiously like a hunted deer. Gwaine can remember the exhaustion in the other man when they had arrived, miraculously, back in Camelot. He can remember the awe and fear he had felt at seeing the extent of his friend's power, at finding himself moved in mere moments across the kingdom, like a doll in a child's game.

After that he remembers very little. His friend – for Merlin is his friend, magic or no – had helped him to rest against the wall of Gaius' chambers. Seeing his king in the best care possible the knight had finally let himself relax, the pain and exhaustion finally claiming him.

Gwaine is broken from his reverie by the door of the room opening, and Gwen walking in. She is carrying a tray of food, her long black hair tied prettily into a plait along one side. It hangs to her waist, swinging with her hips as she makes her way across the room. The servant smiles at the sight of Gwaine sitting up, eyes warm and kind.

"I'm so glad to see you awake" she says, setting the tray down. "How are you feeling?"

Gwaine cannot help but smile at Gwen in return, eyes drinking in her soft features and warmth.

How beautiful she is… he thinks to himself. "I feel fine" he replies to her "fit as a fiddle, in fact! Whatever remedy Gaius prescribed; it has done the trick." The knight reaches over to the tray to grab the cup of water, raising it to eye level in a mock-toast "that man is a genius!"

Gwen giggles lightly and smiles as her friend quenches his thirst.

"He is" she confirms, before moving over to the chest in the corner. "I'm afraid your clothes were rather dirty after your fall, but there are spares in here". She pulls out a shirt and pair of worn trousers, walking over and folding them on the bed. "Your boots are by the fire"

Clasping her hands in front of her waist, Gwen watches Gwaine expectantly, a slight blush on her cheeks.

After a beat Gwaine acknowledges her kindness. "Thanks" he grins, before pausing again. "I had a fall?"

The servant's brows furrow slightly. "Yes - you don't remember?"

Gwaine shakes his head gently. He does remember vividly what had happened, but logically knows that it is not be what the 'official' story will be. Merlin, for reasons now fully apparent, is a wanted man, and Gwaine has no doubt that Gaius would be, and has been, protecting him. Whatever story Gwen thinks she knows, Gwaine needs to hear, so that he can play his part in protecting Merlin too. He owes the man his life.

Not for the first time... he thinks.

"Well" Gwen begins, "Morgana ambushed you and the other knights, singling Arthur out particularly, of course. He is well, by the way" the servant hastens to add, "Gaius is tending to him as we speak, and expects him to wake up very soon.".

Tension that Gwaine had not even noticed was in him dissolved at the news, and he allowed himself relax fully against the cushions behind him. "But before Morgana could reach him, you tried to intercede. Her magic threw you from your horse, and you hit your head quite badly"

Gwaine nodded at Gwen's tale, trying to school his face into one of affirming recollection. He wasn't sure how successful he was being, but the servant hadn't seemed to notice. "It seems that all of you were knocked out, actually, which is why no one knows how you made it back to Camelot"

At her pause, Gwaine cocked his head questioningly, humming for Gwen to continue. Sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning in conspiratorially, the servant continued her tale. "That's the oddest part" she says, voice hushed. "All of you just appeared in the courtyard, out of thin air. Except for you and Arthur, who gave Gaius quite a fright manifesting in his chambers!". The servant huffs out a wry smile, before her face slips back into one of seriousness. "People are saying it was magic"

The word hangs in the air, whispered through the maid's lips like a secret. Gwaine tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

"Magic?" he echoes back questioningly.

Gwen nods her head, continuing. "Some think that it was Morgana, sending you all back as a warning to Camelot"

"But you don't think that" Gwaine states, reading the skeptical look on the servant's face. He crosses his arms, tilting his head as he looks up at her inquisitively. Gwen meets his gaze.

"No" she replies, before standing agitatedly and walking to the end of the bed, hands braced on the intricate woodwork. "Morgana is ruthless and cruel. I don't believe it beyond her to want to 'send a message', but I also cannot believe that she would willingly release Arthur like that".

Gwaine watches the maid closely as she shares her thoughts, admiring her clear intelligence and gift for intuition.

Beauty and brains...

"I know Morgana, Gwaine", Gwen continues. "If she had Arthur in her clutches, she would never let him go. There is little that she wants more than to see him dead at her feet". The young woman paces around the bed again, this time coming to sit next to Gwaine's - now healed - leg.

"So" Gwaine continues for her, "What do you think happened?".

The servant's hands fiddle in her lap as she watches the knight closely, almost shyly. She sighs, "I don't know". Her hands come up to shrug with her shoulders, before falling back into her lap. "I know that there are other sorcerers out there. I can only think that maybe one of them encountered you all at Morgana's mercy and talked her down. Or took pity on you, sending you back here".

Gwaine blinked at her, face passive. She was right after all, in a way.

Gwen notices the man's blank look and nudges him playfully. "I know, I know" she mutters, "It sounds like nonsense. If only one of you all could remember, then you wouldn't have to listen to me harping on like this"

Gwaine smiles at his friend's attempt at self-derision. He leans forward to pat her hand comfortingly.

"Don't worry" he soothes, "I won't tell anyone that you're mad". The servant huffs out another giggle, batting the knight's hand away.

"Charming" she retorts, standing and walking back over to the chamber door. Gwaine is sorry to see her go, he'd love the chance to get her to giggle like that again.

"Gwen" he calls after her. She turns to regard him. "If I do remember anything, you'll be the first to know". He gestures his cup at her again as he speaks, flashing a charming grin.

The servant smiles as she opens the door, head peeking back through to look at the Irishman one more time. "I'm glad you're feeling better" she says, before disappearing, door clicking shut softly behind her.

The knight's responding smile fades slowly as he settles back against the bed, mind stirring with all that he now knows. Merlin was a sorcerer. What's more Merlin was a powerful sorcerer, and Arthur must know. Hell, Gwaine himself had already known - sort of. It would explain the servant's sudden departure, and the king's foul and brooding moods of late. No doubt he had cast Merlin out as a traitor to the realm.

But Merlin had saved them in the forest. He had tried to heal Gwaine, but couldn't – which sets off more questions in the knight's mind about how he has come to be healed now. The servant had been so despairing and in so much pain, eyes earnest as he'd looked at the knight and asked him not to hate him. Those were not the eyes of a traitor - of an enemy. Gwaine had been hazy and weak from pain, only able to watch on warily as Merlin had stumbled through the trees weakly, muttering. Gwaine had seen the determination within the other man to save them; and save them he had.

Merlin had been with them in the castle, Gwaine realises. Where was he now? He needed to see Arthur and make sure that he was alright. But first, he needed to speak to Gaius.

Throwing on the clothes that Gwen had left him the knight dashes from the room, the tray of food remaining uneaten by his bedside.