Just going to leave this here. I hate writing dialogue so this is what it is…
Next chapter is 90% done so there's a chance of me giving you a hat trick this week - crazy!
I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC.
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Gwaine is anxious to leave. His horse is saddled and waiting for him, and he has left a note for Gwen. He hopes that she will not worry too much, and when he gets back, he hopes to spend more time with her. He'd like to hear that laugh again. Aye, wouldn't that be a wonder?
Before he leaves however, he must speak with The King. It would not be right to make off in the night with no explanation, particularly given the mounting threat to Camelot. Standing at the large wooden doors to the royal chamber, the knight knocks, moving to lift the latch at the sound of a weary "Enter", from within.
Arthur is sitting in his armchair by the hearth. The fire has not yet been stoked, and the room is dark and quiet.
Gwaine frowns as he crosses the room. "Sire?" he calls, "Are you well?"
Arthur looks up as Gwaine comes towards him. He appears to have been lost in thought, but his eyes clear as he recognises the knight.
"Gwaine" he says, standing to meet his friend. "Gaius said that you had been injured", he grasps the knight by the arm gently, looking him up and down. "How are you?".
Gwaine gestures to himself, a grin curling at his mouth. "Fit as a fiddle, Sire" he replies jovially. "As you can see". The knight's gaze lingers on the King for a moment, the other man looks weary and burdened. Gwaine can guess as to why.
"And I must speak with you", he continues without missing a beat. "If you have a moment?".
"Of course." Arthur replies, gesturing to the chair opposite his. "Please, sit".
"Thank you", Gwaine replies. But he turns to the fireplace instead of the offered seat. "Let me just stoke the fire first. There is a chill in here, Sire". The knight adds fresh logs to the dying embers, reaching for the bellows to breathe new life back into the flames as he continues to speak.
"You are recovering yourself. It would not do to undo all of Gaius' hard work."
Arthur hums noncommittally.
Small amber flames start to lick their way from beneath the fresh kindling, and Gwaine kneels back, satisfied with his work. Standing, he turns to take his seat next to the King.
"I trust you are feeling recovered?" he asks Arthur.
Arthur nods thoughtfully. "I am" he replies. "Although", his voice is more hesitant now, "I am not quite entirely sure how".
Arthur turns to look at him, blue eyes full of questions. Gwaine must tread lightly. There is much that needs to be said, but it is clear that Arthur's emotions surrounding Merlin are still raw.
"What do you mean?", he asks his King, forcing his expression to remain neutral.
"My injury", Arthur explains, a hand coming up to hover over his heart. "Gaius is insisting that it had only been a scratch, but that's not how I remember it".
"What do you remember?", Gwaine asks, watching his friend closely.
Arthur shakes his head gently, long fingers rubbing at his temple.
"That's just it", he explains. "What I remember doesn't make sense – cannot make sense with what I am being told". Arthur's expression is grave as he confides to his friend.
"I felt death, Gwaine. That blade did not merely scratch me, it pierced my heart". The King's hand is flat on his chest now, rubbing at the new scar absently.
"And yet", he continues, "Here I am".
Standing, Arthur walks over to the table and pours ruby wine into two goblets. He hands one to Gwaine, before slumping back into his chair. Gwaine is silent as he considers how to reply. Where to start? But before he can, Arthur huffs humourlessly.
"You don't believe me", he states. Taking a deep sip from his cup.
"I do", Gwaine replies earnestly. He reaches out a hand to grasp Arthur's shoulder firmly. "I do believe you, Arthur, because I saw it happen with my own eyes".
The King is unnaturally still, attention fixed on Gwaine as he speaks. "I was not fast enough to intervene", the Knight continues. "I saw you fall".
Here goes…. Gwaine thinks.
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"I saw you fall"
There is no doubting the sincerity in Gwaine's eyes, nor the sombreness of his expression. Arthur hadn't been mistaken – he was not going mad. Morgana had felled him, but somehow, he has survived.
Arthur knows, deep down, that he already knows the answer to his next question. But he is unsure of how much Gwaine knows, and he must take heed.
"Then, how?" He asks, watching his friend's face closely for any hint of disguise.
Gwaine pauses, also appearing to assess his companion. Seeming to resolve himself to something, the knight finally replies.
"It was magic."
The words are spoken softly, carefully. They hang in the room as silence falls between the two men.
"Magic", Arthur repeats back, passively.
"Aye", Gwaine confirms.
He was right then. The answer doesn't surprise him, there was no other possible explanation for what had happened. Arthur absently notes that the idea doesn't alarm him as much as it might once have. If he were a younger man, he might have feared the effects that such proximity to magic might have had on him; he might have worried about being unclean. But concerns like that seem trivial now in the face of recent events.
"Who?", he asks back, eyes never breaking contact with his friend's. He knows the answer to this question, too. It has sat conspicuously in his heart since he woke this morning. It is the whisper of a voice, the shadow of someone that he cannot place. He hears the name before it even leaves Gwaine's lips; a name that has left his own lips so many times before.
"Merlin".
Neither man speaks for a long moment. Arthur, for his part, cannot quite place what it is that he is feeling. Merlin had been there. He had brought them home, saved them. Healed them. After everything Arthur has done, Merlin still chose to help them.
Part of it is relief. He realises belatedly. Merlin is alive, and Arthur is relieved. Grateful even. The picture in his mind's eye of his servant is changing once again. Life is breathing back into the pale body on the forest floor. It stands protectively, arms outstretched, eyes burning with golden light. Unease churns with the relief in Arthur's stomach. Merlin with golden eyes. The eyes of a sorcerer. It is an unease born out of habit, indoctrinated into him since birth.
He looks over at Gwaine. "So now you know too. That he has magic. Of his deceit – his disloyalty".
The words leave his mouth without thought, his guard up against the onslaught of conflicting emotions he is experiencing. Even as Arthur speaks them, he is unsure that he truly means them. They sound cold and indifferent, even to his ears. His father's voice echoing behind them.
Gwaine's expression falters at The King's words, and shifts into something harder and more defiant.
"There is no man that I could ever conceive of who would embody loyalty more than Merlin does."
The knight lifts his chin as he waits for a response, hands tense against the arms of his chair.
Arthur blinks, surprised. This was not the reaction that he had been expecting, and understanding dawns on him like a lightning bolt as he truly takes in the man before him.
"You already knew." He whispers.
The realisation washes over him icily. He can hear the betrayal in his own voice. Gwaine can hear it too, if the other man's wince is anything to go by.
"I've had my suspicions for a while now", the knight explains, raising his palms a little in placation.
"I grew up around magic, I know the feel of it. Merlin hid it well but- these things are always easier to see once you know how to look for them." Gwaine glances at Arthur quickly before continuing.
"But it wasn't confirmed to me until yesterday, when I saw him move twelve grown men from one place to another within the blink of an eye."
Bending in his seat, the knight begins rolling up the leg of his breeches.
"And this morning", he continues. "When I woke - not to find myself crippled - but to find nothing to show for my injuries but this."
The young King stares incredulously as Gwaine reveals a fresh pink scar trailing down his shin. It shines slightly in the firelight, and matches Arthur's own neat scar.
Arthur is quiet for some time as this new information washes over him, his mind racing. How is it that he could have missed so much? Who else knows – and has known – but has thought not to alert him? A sorcerer within the walls of his castle, at his side – in his bed… There is so much at war within him, but he cannot help but feel a new sting of betrayal at realising to what extent he has been kept in the dark. A King who doesn't have the full confidence of even his closest circle. What hope does Camelot have of surviving under such weak leadership and ignorance?
His focus blinks back to Gwaine as the knight clears his throat awkwardly and rolls his breeches back down to cover the new scar.
Is this man even my ally? Arthur thinks. He sits here in clear defence of Merlin, and in defence of magic. How many others are aligned with the sorcerer? Will they choose Merlin, and not Arthur, when the time to fight comes? The sudden uncertainty is overwhelming.
"You believed him to be a sorcerer", He says, voice low and calm despite his inner turmoil. "And yet you never thought to turn him in?".
Gwaine considers carefully before replying.
"I have never believed magic to be an evil, or a threat – unless used by someone in the wrong way. To my eye, magic is a weapon, not an innate evil. And besides, Merlin is as good as family to me. There is no world in which I would betray him. Especially when I did not know for certain whether he practised magic or not."
A weapon. Arthur thinks. He is not sure he has ever heard it put quite like that. In a way he admires his friend's loyalty to Merlin, understands it, even. Afterall, he hadn't told anyone either, although his motives admittedly, have been less noble.
There was something that he didn't understand, however.
"You have never believed magic to be evil, and yet you chose to swear fealty to me and my cause. To Camelot's laws against magic. Why?"
To infiltrate my inner circle? To spread dissidence and weaken my claim to the throne?
Gwaine frowns, clearly surprised by the King's question.
"I'd have thought that was obvious", he says.
Arthur regards him blankly, and Gwaine huffs incredulously.
"It's never been your laws that I believed in, Arthur. It's you". He leans forward to clasp Arthur's forearm, expression open and sincere.
"I follow you Arthur – my King. And I always will".
Gwaine seems to be searching for something in Arthur's face, and finds it. Letting go of the King's arm he sits back in his chair, eyes never straying from his friend.
Something within Arthur calms at Gwaine's words, mollified. Running a weary hand through his hair he sighs heavily through his nose, allowing some of the tension to ease from his shoulders. They stiffen again almost immediately, however, at his friend's next words.
"My loyalty to you will never waver. However, I came here to let you know that I'm leaving Camelot. Today, before sundown".
"Leaving? Why?", Arthur replies, reeling from yet another revelation.
Gwaine seems to be bracing himself as he replies.
"I'm going after Merlin".
Indignation swells in the King's chest. "You're abandoning the city – your King - at a time like this, to chase after a traitor?!"
"Merlin is no traitor, Arthur", Gwaine's tone is creeping towards impatient now. "No traitor would have acted as he did in that forest. If he was truly against you then you would have died years ago.
Arthur has to concede that Gwaine has a point there.
"He is powerful, Arthur", the knight continues. "And despite whatever it was that… transpired, between you two, he is still using that power to fight for you. He is on our side."
I would never hurt you Arthur – you know that… Gwaine's words have thrown Arthur back into the memories that he has been desperately trying to forget. Memories of chains, and blood. Swallowing back his unease he replies sternly.
"We do not know that. We cannot know where his allegiances truly lie." He pauses, thinking back on his sister's words in the forest.
"However, I believe that he and Morgana do not have an alliance. This at least, is a small mercy".
"No", Gwaine agrees firmly. "In fact, Arthur, I believe that Merlin is what Morgana has been looking for – the raids, I think she's trying to smoke him out".
Arthur knows that Gwaine is right. Morgana had been more than anxious in the forest to know of Merlin's whereabouts, almost fearful.
"Arthur, something is going on. Something big. I'm not sure what, but I know that it's something that Merlin cannot fight on his own. He's left to find the people who can give him answers; people who can help him fight Morgana. I think she's done something, or has something – a weapon maybe. Whatever it is it has Merlin and Gaius spooked. They-"
"So Gaius is complicit in this too", Arthur cuts the other man off. It would certainly explain Gaius' evasive behaviour this morning.
"Merlin is as good as a son to Gaius", Gwaine retorts. "What father doesn't protect his child?"
To this Arthur has no response. Gaius' motives are more than understandable. Even so, the old physician has been a strong influence in his life, and a true mentor in some of his darker moments. Arthur would be lying if he said it didn't hurt to know that he too had been keeping this from him.
Gwaine has continued speaking, he realises. It's as though the knight cannot stop now that he has started, words tumbling from his mouth in a rush.
"I think something was happening to Merlin in the forest. He kept saying to me that his magic wasn't working - that he needed Gaius. He was terrified, shaking. I've never seen him so afraid."
"Because he couldn't perform a few spells?", Arthur scoffs. His tone is deliberately harsh, masking his concern.
"Because he couldn't heal you", Gwaine fires back, his anger palpable now in the face of Arthur's continued disdain.
Arthur's mouth snaps shut, chastened, and he keeps silent as his friend continues.
"There was something wrong with him. He was… he was sick. Something was hurting him. He was screaming."
Arthur swallows, feeling increasingly disturbed as he listens to the knight's account.
"But then", Gwaine continues. "He seemed to come to some decision. And before I knew it, we were lying on the floor of Gaius' chambers. It near half-killed Merlin to do it, but he was so-", Gwaine seems to struggle to find the right words to describe what he had seen. He glances at Arthur before continuing.
"He was determined to do it. To save us. To save you."
At Gwaine's words, Arthur swears that he can feel the phantom touch of gentle fingers on his cheek. The shadow that earlier he could not place solidifies into something he recognises – into someone.
"It's going to be alright, Arthur. I promise….".