The Wanderer
by BynWho
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfic for entertainment purposes only. All characters and plots from the BBC show Merlin belong to the BBC. All other characters and plots belong to BynWho. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Marian is kidnapped by a guest of the king. When she is dragged through the forest and losing hope, she is rescued by Gwaine, and their friendship takes a surprising turn for the better.
Don't forget to leave a review!
The Kidnapping of a Servant
The servants in the castle were busy preparing for the arrival of a distinguished guest in Camelot. Negotiations between Uther and Sir Gromer Somer Joure of Mercia had been ongoing for months. The nobleman possessed a fertile piece of land near Camelot, and Uther was eager to obtain it, but mystery still surrounded Sir Gromer's requested price—whether it was land, gold, or potentially a title and council seat in Camelot.
Uther summoned Arthur and his knights, as well as members of the council, to the stone courtyard to await their guest's arrival. The king had also ordered Gaius to attend since the physician had been his counsel for a long time, and he trusted Gaius above all others. To that end, Uther surprisingly didn't object to the presence of Gaius's apprentice.
Though Marian was a nuisance—a thorn in his side, really—she was nice to look at, and the king understood the importance of pretty ornaments in a good first impression. If Marian had ever found out Uther's reasoning for her being there, she probably would have given him a rude gesture before storming off.
Sir Gromer's party had arrived and filed into the courtyard. There were carriages pulled by six or more horses wearing headdresses, and strapping young men in uniforms rode on the front and back of each carriage. The opulent display even included several knights on horseback, complete with finery and banners.
When the carriages stopped, the door to the most elegant carriage opened first. The sight of a dainty, well-adorned foot stepping out was unexpected. Three beautiful young ladies exited the carriage. They were dressed in the most luxurious gowns Marian had ever seen—silk with gold thread and jewels were sewn into the neckline. The styles were all the same, but each dress color was different—one was yellow, another pink, and the last was a light baby blue.
The ladies waited beside the carriage as a foppish blond man emerged. He had an equally luxurious lavender silk tunic and velvet coat and wore several jewels around his fingers.
"Ah, King Uther!" the man called as he stepped forward. "I am Sir Gromer Somer Joure," he said as he bowed deeply.
"Sir Gromer," Uther replied. "It is good to put a face with the name!"
"Likewise, my liege. And a handsome face at that!" Sir Gromer exclaimed as he rose.
Marian wasn't sure if he meant Uther's face or his own. Regardless, his turn of phrase turned her stomach.
"And if you permit me, Your Majestic Majesty, to introduce my nieces," he said as he turned behind him and waved them forward. "Elsa, Alyssa, and Sara."
The three young ladies rushed forward and curtseyed one by one as he introduced them.
"Charming," Uther smiled at Gromer. "Utterly charming."
When Sir Gromer looked behind the king, Uther turned. "Oh, yes, of course. This is my son and heir to the throne of Camelot, Prince Arthur," he said, waving Arthur forward.
Arthur stepped up and bowed politely. Elsa, Alyssa, and Sara giggled and tittered at him. The one in the pink dress made eyes at him, batting her long lashes and smiling with a wide grin.
Arthur swallowed hard and struggled to keep his eyes from rolling. Merlin was unable to suppress a small snort of laughter behind him, and Arthur turned around, glaring.
"And this is my ward, the Lady Morgana," Uther said as he took Morgana's hand and brought her forward.
Sir Gromer brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Morgana. You are even more beautiful than is told," he said, smiling brightly at her. "And as a special treat, your magnanimousness, I have brought with me the most talented jester in the five kingdoms, Alec The Illustrious!"
A tall and muscled man stepped out of the second carriage. He wore a wide grin as he came forward and gave an even more extreme performance than Gromer as he bowed.
"Your Majesty," Alec The Illustrious greeted.
"Alec!" Arthur called, to everyone's surprise, stepping forward to greet the jester.
Alec bowed. "My lord! It's good to see you again!"
Arthur turned to Uther to explain. "Alec came here with the circus when I was a child, father. Do you not remember? He always had the most amazing tricks!"
"And the dirtiest jokes, eh, Prince Arthur?" Alec laughed.
Put out, Merlin leaned to Marian and whispered in her ear. "Tricks. Hmph. I bet he can't summon a dragon."
"Don't pout, Merlin," Marian giggled.
Both Alec and Sir Gromer looked up when they heard her laugh.
"And who might this be?" Gromer purred, his eyes sparkling.
Uther turned around and gave Marian a sour look. "Oh, that's just our physician's apprentice. She's no one of consequence."
Marian rolled her eyes. Uther would never see her as anything but someone to step on or put in the stocks. She suspected that his sadistic need to punish her was the only reason she'd lasted this long in the kingdom.
"Begging your pardon, my lord, but her beauty is unrivaled! Do you have a name, girl?" Gromer asked, entranced.
Uther glared her way, and Merlin nudged her forward.
"Marian, Sir Gromer. My name is Marian," she finally replied.
"The voice of an angel as well as the beauty of a goddess! Oh, this will indeed be a delightful trip!" Gromer said as he clapped his hands together, grinning like a fool.
Alec looked between Marian and his besotted master. Yes, this would be good. This servant would be his ticket to freedom. A slow, wicked grin grew on his face as a plan to kidnap and ransom the young woman formed in his head.
Sir Gromer and his party supped with the king and nobles that evening. Both Merlin and Marian were roped into serving during their feast. Usually, she wouldn't have thought anything of it, as she had been asked to serve at previous feasts, but both Uther and Gromer kept looking at her, making her feel uneasy. Knowing Uther, he was probably trying to negotiate her away from the kingdom.
After the king had finished eating, Gromer looked at Alec, who lingered in the corner of the room. He gave the jester a nod, and Alec sprung into action. He disappeared into the corridor for only a moment before coming back with two of his men, pushing a long box on a rolling table into the middle of the room.
"For your enjoyment, my liege! I shall attempt feats of magic before your very eyes!" Alec announced to the room.
Uther stiffened at the mention of magic.
Confused, Sir Gromer looked to Uther and then to Arthur for an explanation.
"Magic is forbidden in Camelot, Sir Gromer," Arthur said.
Gromer's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, not to worry, my lord! Alec isn't a sorcerer. Not a real one. He will perform slights of hand, not real magic! It's all very entertaining, you'll see."
Uther visibly relaxed and motioned for Alec to proceed.
Alec stepped up to the head table, and with Gromer on one side of Uther, and Arthur on the other, they looked on as the jester laid a small ball on the table.
"If you'll permit me, I shall make this magic ball disappear before your royal eyes!"
"How so? Without magic?" Uther asked, amused.
"Like so, my lord," he said as he placed three cups on the table, the one in the middle covering the ball. He moved the containers around the table in what seemed like a chaotic dance.
Uther followed the middle cup with amusement. There was no doubt that the ball was under that cup.
"Now, Your Majesty, which cup has the ball?"
Confident, Uther pointed to the cup on his left. "There," he said.
Alec lifted the cup, but the ball was not there.
Uther frowned. "That one, then," he pointed to the cup on his right.
Alec lifted the second cup. Again, the ball was not there.
Uther looked at Alec and narrowed his eyes. "Then it has to be there," he said, pointing to the center cup.
Alec lifted the last cup. There was no ball.
Astonished, Uther looked around the table and even glanced below.
"Where did it go? How?"
The jester smiled and reached toward Uther. "Forgive me, sire, but there is something behind your ear!" He pulled his hand away and produced the ball.
Uther gasped. "Yes, very clever, indeed!" he said, as the rest of the audience erupted into cheers. "Tell me, jester, what is the box there for?"
Alec turned to the large wooden crate his men had wheeled in and grinned. "This, my lord, is for an extraordinary feat. I shall attempt to cut a woman in half without her breath leaving her body!" he exclaimed to Oos and Ahs. "Might I have a volunteer?" Alec turned and looked at Marian. "The physician's apprentice!"
Marian shook her head. "I don't think so, Copperfield."
Not to be dissuaded, Alec walked up to her and grabbed her arm. "You don't want to disappoint your king, do you?"
Marian looked at Uther's annoyed face. "Well…"
Alec pulled her forward and opened the box. "I expect you'll not divulge my secret. I'd hate to see what'd happen to you if you did," Alec whispered, his threat in her ear.
Narrowing her eyes at him, Marian nodded to Alec as he lifted her. Settling in the crate, she pulled her knees to her chest and stuck her head through the opening as he closed the lid.
Marian had seen this trick several times and knew how it worked. The box was divided into two compartments, side by side. She was in the left part that had a hole for her head. The right had another woman inside, likely cramped from being stuffed in there for so long.
A lovely pair of legs abruptly popped through the other side and wiggled.
The jester reached beneath the box and produced a flimsy sword.
"I shall, with my magic sword, cut the beautiful Marian in half. Not to worry, ladies and gents! No harm will come to your healer!"
He slid the sword through the crack between the box's compartments, grunting and pushing for dramatic effect.
Marian had to close her eyes to keep from rolling them. The effort of controlling her expression was enough to give the illusion that she was in pain.
The audience gasped as the sword reached the bottom of the box, and the jester slid two metal sheets into the crack.
Alec separated the two halves and spun Marian around first. The legs continued to wiggle as he turned the other half of the box around.
Delighted, Uther stood and clapped. "Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!"
The others in the room followed suit, and Alec bowed at all the applause he received.
"Thank you, my lord! Thank you! Now, I must see to this poor woman and reunite her with her legs."
He bowed once more, and then the men who'd brought in the box came back and pushed it into the corridor with Marian still inside. Once they were far enough away, and his men had left with the woman who'd play the legs, Alec approached Marian.
"Okay, you've had your fun, Houdini. Time to let me out of here," she demanded, sore from being stuffed into the compartment.
"Oh, dear girl," Alec began, an evil grin breaking across his face. "The fun has only just begun."
He pulled out a cloth soaked in chloroform and held it to Marian's mouth and nose.
"Wha—?" she screamed as he held the cloth tighter. Marian's eyes rolled back as she passed out into the black.
Marian stirred awake, feeling hungover, her head pounding and her stomach churning. She opened her eyes, moaning at the pain, and Alec's face swam into view as he crouched before her.
"Wakey, wakey!" he said in a sing-song voice and then doused her in cold water.
"Wha—what the fucking hell?" Marian sputtered.
She was on the ground in the forest, the dry leaves tickling her skin. Dress and shoes gone, Marian was left in just her underthings, her wrists bound behind her back.
"Time to go!" Alec said as he yanked her from the ground. He tied another rope around her waist and kept hold of one end as he walked off, expecting her to follow.
She pulled on her restraints. "I'm not going with you!"
Alec jerked his end of the rope hard, and Marian fell in step with him.
"I ain't letting you go, healer. So you have a choice. You can come with me of your own free will, or I can drag you through this wretched forest by your hair."
"But I don't have any shoes!"
He shrugged. "And?" He pulled again, making Marian speed up toward him.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?" she asked, crying out as her foot stepped on a tangle of brambles.
"You're my ticket out of this hell. I'm going to ransom you. That stupid fop will give me my freedom if I give you to him."
"Your freedom? There are other ways, you know. We can help you!" Marian fell, but Alec didn't stop. "Wait, let me get up!"
He dragged her until she was able to get up and continue to walk behind him. Bleeding scratches and dirt littered her bare skin, while her hair was full of leaves and other forest debris.
"Nah, this is the only way, don't you see? Your beauty is going to pay for my freedom. That idiot will do anything for his pretty trinkets. And that's all you are. A pretty trinket. Now keep up, before I drag you the rest of the way!"
Tears fell as Marian continued walking. Desperate to find a way to escape. She wasn't sure how, but she had to get away from this psychopath before it was too late.
They had walked for two days, virtually non-stop, finally resting when they came upon ancient stone ruins situated in the middle of a small clearing.
Marian sat on the ground, her hands bound and hooked to a large nail above her head, her feet tied together, and her mouth gagged. The morning dew had settled on her skin and chemise, and she shivered as a chill soaked into her bones. The trek through the forest left her filthy, and the brush scratched her body. Dried twigs and leaves were stuck in her tangled hair, and tear stains streaked her face.
She was unsure of any rescue from Camelot. It was no secret that Uther didn't care for her, but surely Merlin and Gaius and maybe even Arthur would come to her aid? She hoped that someone, at least, would free her from this hell.
Alec left to get water, and when he came back, he knelt in front of her, unhooking her wrists from above her head, allowing the blood to rush back into her numb fingers.
"Now, if I take this off for you to drink, will you misbehave?"
She gently shook her head as she stared at the water bladder. It had been almost a day since any liquid had touched her dry lips.
He reached over to her face with his grimy hand and slipped the gag down. Lifting the bladder to her lips, he allowed her to drink greedily, but he pulled it back before she was done and laughed at her as water dribbled down her chin. When she leaned forward for more water, he pushed her back down, cackling.
"I like a girl with spirit!"
He brought the bladder to his own mouth, and as he tilted his head back to gulp down the rest of the water, she lifted her bound feet and kicked him hard in the groin. With surprise and pain etched on his face, he doubled over and rolled onto the old stone floor, screaming.
She frantically tried to undo the rope restraining her feet. She tugged and pulled, but the knot wouldn't come undone. Her fingernails broke as she scratched at the fibers, and she whimpered as all hope of escape drained away.
He sat up and pulled her over to him. As she screamed, he grabbed the gag and shoved it back into her mouth.
Marian bit down hard when his dirty fingers pushed the cloth to the back of her throat.
"You little bitch!" Alec yelled, shaking his pained fingers.
Seething, he backhanded her face, splitting her lip and pushing her head into the wall behind her hard enough to make her see stars.
She let out an anguished cry that the gag couldn't stop.
"I ain't going to kill you yet, pet. I'm gonna have my fun first!"
He stood and unbuckled his belt.
Marian's eyes widened in fear when she realized what he was about to do. She scooted away from him as best she could until she hit another wall. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her face reddened when she panicked, trapped in a corner. She screamed for help, despite knowing that none would come.
Alec sauntered toward her, licking his lips. "You can't get away from me now. There's no one here to save you, pet. No one cared enough to come after you. Just a lonely, pathetic servant."
As he undid his trousers, Marian cried out in fear.
Suddenly, a loud thunk echoed, causing Alec's eyes to widen in confusion before rolling back into his skull. He fell to the ground, unconscious.
A man stood in front of her with the hilt of his sword in his fist, having just hit Alec in the back of the head. Marian squinted, trying to focus on him through her tears, as he flipped the hair out of his eyes, smirking.
"The dumber they are, the quicker they fall, eh?"
It was Gwaine.
Marian whimpered in relief, surprised that she'd been found by Gwaine, of all people.
He started when he recognized Marian, bleeding and terrified. Dropping his sword, he rushed to her side, pulling the gag from her mouth.
"Marian, are you alright?" he asked softly.
Not trusting her voice, she shook her head and winced as he untied her bonds. The rope had rubbed the reddened skin at her wrists and ankles raw. Ignoring the pain, she jumped into his arms and held onto his neck for dear life.
Stunned by the contact, he fell back to the ground before pulling her against his chest and holding her as she shook with tears. "It's alright, beautiful. You're safe now. He can't hurt you." He soothed and held her, one arm around her waist and his other hand holding the back of her head.
Gwaine had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold a soft woman. And he hated himself for enjoying the feel of Marian as she sobbed on him. He pulled her closer and held her tight, her warmth seeping through the material of his tunic. He needed this contact, this comfort, almost as much as she did.
Marian leaned into the embrace, getting as close as possible. She never wanted to let go of him. She needed to feel safe, and Gwaine was safety. He was protection. He would make sure no harm ever came to her. She trusted him completely.
She almost laughed at that. The man who drove her nuts, who enjoyed riling her up, was the one person on Earth who could calm her down and make her feel secure. She had no idea when it had happened, but there he was, calming her and she let him.
After a few moments more, her sobs stilled, though she refused to let go when Gwaine tried to pull back. "Marian, sweetheart, let me see your face."
He pulled back from her a little and wiped at the hair on her brow. She was a mess. Tendrils of her hair were matted to her face with sweat and tears, and she had bloody scratches all over her exposed skin. Blood from her bottom lip ran down her chin.
Anger filled him as he clenched his jaw at the sight of her abuse. He used the hem of his tunic and dried her lip and chin, wiping the blood from her skin. Sure, they'd had their differences, bickered here and there, but to Gwaine, Marian was the kindest, loveliest, most innocent person in the world. She deserved all the happiness in the world and none of its pain.
He checked her over. The rest of her body fared no better than her face. Bruised and scratched, her arms and legs were bare and cold. He tried to remain calm, but the fact that someone had taken her dress and shoes made him all the more angry. Whoever that man was, he wanted her as vulnerable as a woman can be.
He looked back up and frowned when he saw her staring over his shoulder, a look of fear and hatred in her eyes. He followed her gaze to the man who'd held her captive, the man who was about to force himself on her, the man who was, thankfully, unconscious.
Gwaine took her face in his hands and caught her attention. "I need to tie him up to make sure he stays here. Will you be okay?" he asked, his thumbs wiping at her fresh tears.
"Yes," she replied, her voice rough and raw.
He stood and picked up the ropes that had been binding her.
"Gwaine?" she called to him. She shivered when he turned to her, feeling so small and helpless at that moment. "Thank you."
Gwaine smiled tenderly and walked over to tie up Alec.
Marian watched him closely, wondering how he'd found her, but grateful that he had. He surprised her with the gentle care he'd shown her. There were no jokes or lewd remarks, just concern and tenderness.
Sweat beaded on her brow and above her lip. She felt cold and dizzy as her heart beat hard in her chest, and her head pounded. With shallow breaths, she tried to call out to him, but it was too soft for him to hear. Something was wrong. She felt sick and weak and swayed where she sat, struggling to hold on to consciousness.
After Gwaine finished tying the last knot, he looked up and saw her falling to the ground. "Marian!" he called out as he rushed to her and knelt down.
Her face was damp with sweat, and her skin was pale and hot. He lifted her, carrying her to his horse. They needed to make camp away from these ruins, anywhere they could. He was able to get her in the saddle and climbed up behind her. With her cradled in his lap, they took off toward Camelot.
When they reached a stream far from the ruins, Gwaine decided to stop and camp. He set Marian down on a blanket and lit a fire.
She shivered as he brought his water bladder to her lips, helping her to drink it dry. She was able to open her eyes long enough to watch him as he walked to the stream and refilled it.
Later, in the darkness, Gwaine sat next to her and gently cradled her head in his hand. "I need you to wake up, beautiful. You need to drink this."
Marian opened her eyes slightly and stared as he lifted a small bowl to her lips, pouring the warm contents into her mouth. She pulled a face as she tasted it.
"I know it tastes as bad as the wrong end of a horse, but it'll help your fever."
She swallowed what was in her mouth and hesitated to drink more.
"Come on, Marian, be a good girl, and drink it all for me."
After she finished the bowl, he laid her head back down gently. He dipped a rag into cool water and wrung it, tenderly placing it on her brow.
"Gwaine?" Marian's voice was soft and scratchy.
"Hmm?"
"You're very pretty."
He watched as her gaze roamed over his face, trying to contain his amusement when a goofy grin crossed her features. "Try to sleep, love."
Her eyes grew heavy, making it difficult to stay awake. "I'm safe with you, aren't I?"
"No harm will come to you, Marian. I swear it on my life. Now try to get some sleep."
"G'night," she slurred.
He frowned as she closed her eyes. Whatever had taken hold of her worked fast to incapacitate her. He prayed that her recovery would be just as quick. Forgoing his own sleep, Gwaine stayed next to her, wiping the sweat from her skin and replacing the cool rags on her brow.
The sun had already risen when Marian finally woke up. She was sore, but she felt better than she had in days. No longer feeling sticky and dirty, she sat up and stretched, noticing cloth bandages were wrapped around her feet. The blood and dirt on her skin had been wiped off. Another bandage was wrapped around her upper arm, where a deep scratch had left its mark, while an oily substance coated her ankles and wrists, where the skin had been rubbed raw. It felt cool and soothing.
She ran her hands over her long hair. No longer tangled and full of debris, it had been braided neatly to the side, just as she usually wore it. Gwaine had taken excellent care of her. Tending to her various wounds, he also went out of his way to make sure she was clean and comfortable. She couldn't guess how long it had taken him to pull all the sticks and leaves from her hair, but it must have been a considerable task. She smiled at the thought of him detangling that mess and braiding her hair.
Gwaine came up to the fire and crouched in front of the flames. He checked on a pheasant that was roasting above it and turned to her, smiling. "Good morning, beautiful! Nice of you to join the living!"
Marian's face turned a deep, hot red. She wasn't typically a modest person, and the chemises worn in this time were far from revealing. Nevertheless, she blushed as he watched her from beside the fire. Once again, she felt vulnerable, and for once, it wasn't from fear. It was quite the opposite. Her vulnerability with Gwaine felt the same as being naked.
The wind picked up, causing a shiver to run up her spine. She rubbed her bare arms, the friction warming her skin. Though she was a little put out that no one from Camelot had come to rescue her, she was pleased it had been Gwaine who'd come to her aid and no one else. She didn't care for the circumstances, of course, but she'd hoped to see him again.
Gwaine stood and removed his leather jacket, placing it around her shoulders.
"Thank you for finding me and helping me," she said, her voice hoarse as she pulled her arms into the sleeves of the jacket. It smelt vaguely of leather, musk, and horse. It was uniquely Gwaine.
"Well, don't thank me yet. You may well scar in some of those places." he pointed at her arms. "There wasn't much I could do about that."
"I'm not afraid of scars, Gwaine. It's not like I've never scarred before."
Gwaine looked at her thoughtfully and smiled. He'd been doing that a lot in the past couple of months. Whenever she was with him, he couldn't stop the bright smiles, the goofy grins, or the teasing smirks.
"You aren't like other women I know."
"What do you mean?"
"You're not obsessed with your looks."
"Oh?" she asked, pretending to pull at a string on her chemise and refusing to look at him, afraid he thought she was unattractive again.
"You get some women who preen all day like a self-obsessed peacock. I just mean you don't care about that. You wear who you are well."
"Thank you, I think?"
"No, I just mean you're a lovely person."
"Oh. Uh… So are you."
He chuckled. "Here, eat this," he said as he cut into the roasted pheasant and handed her a piece. "You're going to need your strength. Camelot is at least two days hard ride away."
She took the offered meat and savored each bite. "How did you find me?"
He sobered as he tore at the pheasant. His nostrils flared at the memory and he frowned. "I heard your screams," he said, the rage in his voice barely contained. He'd never forget what he'd heard as he rode through the forest. The terror and despair and anguish in her voice. The cruelty of her captor.
"Oh."
"Couldn't resist rescuing a damsel in distress, could I?"
Marian laughed bitterly. "Yes, well, I certainly was that. How long was I out?"
"Off and on, about two days," he told her as he sat down next to her. "You were sick with fever and exhausted. You needed the rest."
Again, Marian felt small and vulnerable. "I feel like such a fool."
"Why?"
"Because I acted like a simpering damsel in distress who can't even take care of herself. I got kidnapped from Camelot under everyone's noses, by a jester, no less."
Gwaine popped another piece of pheasant in his mouth. "You are hardly simpering, beautiful. I've seen you stand up to kings." He grinned as he thought back to his arrest in Camelot and how she had to be held back from giving Uther a piece of her mind. Marian was fierce, with no regard for the consequences. Just like him. "Besides, everyone needs help from a friend once in a while."
She gave him a genuine smile as he stood and offered his hand to help her up.
"I have no doubts that if you had a sword, you could take care of yourself, Marian."
She tensed at the closeness of him. He was affecting her again, and she was losing control of her senses.
Feeling her unease, Gwaine took a step back and went to gather his things. He wished that she'd be used to him by now, that she could stand to be near him. The thought that she couldn't stand to be near him, that she didn't like him, was sobering and damn depressing.
Marian stood there dazed, watching him as he rolled up his blanket and picked up the medicine bowls. She couldn't fathom why he treated her with such warmth. She'd done nothing to deserve his compassion. At their last meeting, Marian had accused him of being a reckless drunkard.
"Why are you doing this, Gwaine? Why are you being so nice to me?"
"What, you think you don't deserve it?" he asked as he packed the last of his things into his saddlebag.
"No, I don't, actually. I've been awful to you."
"Huh," Gwaine said. His spirits were dampened by her lack of understanding that he cared for her, even if she didn't care back. "Well… maybe it's because I want to be friends."
He walked over to her and picked her up, carrying her over to the horse, ignoring her little grunts of protest. "Or," he said as he set her down, "maybe I just like seeing you all worked up."
He smirked at the look of indignation that crossed over her face. "Now, up on the horse. I'm not having you walk around undoing my hard work," he said, pointing to her bandaged feet.
Flustered, Marian let him lift her into the saddle. She spun around to straddle the horse but was unable to get her leg down. Since the skirt of her chemise wasn't full enough, she would either need to hike the skirt up to an uncomfortably high level on her thighs or—
Gwaine grabbed the bottom of her chemise and ripped it past her knee before she could even finish her thought.
"Sorry about that," he said, his smile irritatingly smug. He wasn't sorry in the least. He reached over and grabbed the reins to lead the horse on foot.
"Did their mother ever find out who'd switched out the thread?" Gwaine asked.
Marian had kept them entertained on their walk by telling him stories about the Felton twins, Camelot's resident troublemakers.
"She did," she laughed. "When Cathryn found out that her boys had sabotaged the silk meant for the king's ward, she whacked them up and down the street in front of the whole lower town!"
"Can't say that Lady Morgana didn't deserve it. Nobles, eh?" He laughed with her.
"I think you'd get along with the twins. Just wait until you meet…" Marian trailed off. The weight of what she'd said hit her like a ton of bricks.
They were having such a good time that they had both forgotten Gwaine's banishment and the unlikelihood of ever crossing paths again.
"Oh Jesus, Gwaine, I'm sorry. I—"
"We'd better get going if I'm to get you home soon." He climbed up on the horse behind her.
"Gwaine…"
"Hyah!" he kicked the horse into a gallop, trying to forget.
When they stopped to rest for the night, Gwaine unpacked the leftover pheasant from that morning and handed some to Marian. They sat on a log by the fire, eating in silence.
He had been unusually quiet on their ride. He knew she hadn't meant it, but the reminder that they'd have to part ways soon hurt. Saving Merlin's life was what ultimately led to his banishment. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, of course—Merlin was his friend—but it just wasn't fair. He sensed a change in her attitude towards him, realizing she no longer saw him as just a pest. And yet, he couldn't see her again, couldn't get to know her, couldn't fall in love, and couldn't court her. The universe was a cruel mistress.
After finishing supper, he laid out the blanket and knelt in front of her. He checked her bandages and opened a jar of salve he'd retrieved from his bag. "I need to reapply this to your ankles and wrists," he said, still somewhat subdued.
She nodded, sleepy from the warmth of the fire and a full stomach. Her eyes drooped and were nearly closed, so she jumped when he touched her ankle.
"I know you dislike me, Marian, but I will never harm you. You're safe with me."
She looked down at him, the guilt overwhelming her. Placing her hand over his, she said, "I don't dislike you, Gwaine. I was wrong before and shouldn't have judged you so harshly without knowing you better. You're a good man with a good heart." She watched his surprise at her touch and her words with genuine affection. "I'm sorry that I seemed harsh. It's just… I worry because…" She wasn't sure how to finish her thought without hurting his feelings more than she already had.
"I'm reckless?"
"Well, a bit."
"And a drunk," he said, throwing her words back in her face.
Marian sighed. "I'm sorry, that was unfair for me to say."
"Well, you wouldn't be the first to say it." His laugh was full of anger and resentment rather than mirth. "You know, before… with the melee, I… I knew I wouldn't get to stay, so I…" Gwaine met her eyes looking more miserable and lonely than she'd ever seen him. "I didn't make it easy on you, I know that. I thought it would be better if I made you hate me."
"Why would you even think that?"
"In my idiotic brain, I thought I was doing you a favor. We were becoming friends and wouldn't see each other again, so I said what I thought would hurt you so you wouldn't miss me. I did it on purpose and a day hasn't gone by that I don't regret hurting you."
Marian stared at him as he went back to rubbing the soothing salve into her skin.
"I'm sorry, Marian. More than you know."
Gwaine had called Merlin the only friend he had when they were in the Perilous Lands. Remembering what Gaius had said about Gwaine's lonely life, she frowned as a thought occurred to her. "Gwaine, how long have you been on your own?"
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at the sky in thought. "About a year and a half this time around."
"And you've not had any friends? Lovers? Anyone?"
"Just Merlin and Arthur, I guess." He hesitated. "And you, I hope."
Marian smiled gently at him as he finished applying the salve. "What about family? Are any of them still around?" she asked as he stood.
Gwaine put the jar back into his saddlebag and went over to a pile of sticks, throwing a few into the fire. "Mother and father are dead. Sister is married and living… somewhere," he said as he sat down beside her.
"You don't know where your sister is?"
He shrugged. "No, not really. She's a bit of a toad, so we lost touch. What about you, beautiful? Where are your family?"
She watched the flames lick the branches Gwaine had thrown into the fire with a small, sad smile. "They're not living. I'm from far away, so no family to speak of."
"Where from?"
"Um… far beyond the Great Seas of Meredor."
"Ah, so that explains the accent," he teased.
Marian shoved his shoulder, laughing. "I don't have an accent, Gwaine. You have an accent."
They laughed together, and she yawned as her lids became heavy.
He beamed warmly at her. Marian was absolutely lovely in every way he could imagine. "Time for bed. You need your beauty sleep." He helped her down to the bedroll and laid his out beside her.
"Goodnight, Gwaine."
"Goodnight, Marian," he said as he watched her eyes close.
All he could do was lie there and watch her as she slept, afraid she was just a figment of his imagination. He hoped she forgave him for the cruel lies he told. Their interaction that day was… companionable? Yes, companionable. He could live with that. For now.
Gwaine awoke with a start. The fire had almost extinguished, leaving only faint embers in the darkness. He looked around, trying to figure out what had woken him when he heard small whimpers coming from Marian. Her eyes darted underneath closed lids, and she frowned, chin trembling.
She cried out again, loud enough to jolt him into action. He reached over to shake her, but instead of waking, she cowered at his touch. Small tears ran down the side of her face as she twitched, stuck in a nightmare. He gathered her in his arms and nestled her head beneath his chin.
"Shh, Marian, you're safe," he soothed, softly patting her hair down until her whimpering died down.
Rather than crawling back away, Gwaine laid down with her still in his arms and fell asleep, cradling her against him.
Marian awoke and tried to stretch, but she felt a heavy weight across her middle. The arm of a man was around her waist, the hand splayed across her stomach, holding her in place against a warm, hard body. She turned her head enough to see Gwaine behind her, holding her as he slept. A shy grin crossed her face at the intimate position she found herself in. He was annoying, but being held by the fine-looking, well, truthfully fucking hot man sent a thrill through her body. It had been far too long since anyone had held her close.
Just as she was about to wake him, she felt dirt and debris hit her legs. Marian looked up to see three bandits standing over them, sneering at her.
"Well, well. What have we here?" the larger one said.
Marian felt Gwaine tense, and his hand inched up her stomach to the breast pocket of the jacket she was still wearing.
"What do you want?" she asked, sounding more brave than she felt.
Gwaine's fingers clasped around something in the pocket.
"We're gonna cut him," the man nodded toward Gwaine, "take what gold your man there paid you, then we're gonna have ourselves a little fun, ain't we boys?"
The three men let out a lecherous laugh.
Marian sighed. "Why does everyone assume I'm a whore?"
The man closest to Gwaine reached down to turn him over, knife in hand. When Gwaine rolled to his back, he shoved the dagger he'd pulled from the jacket into the man's gut. After the bandit fell to the ground dead, Gwaine stood, drawing his sword out from under the blanket they'd been lying on, and confronted the leader.
As the other bandit watched Gwaine fight, Marian stood to pull a thick branch from the ground and knock his legs out from under him. Gathering all her strength, she whacked him over the head. Satisfied that he was unconscious, she looked over at Gwaine to see if she could help. She should've known he would effortlessly overcome the last bandit.
Gwaine twirled his sword before sheathing it with a flourish and flipped the hair out of his eyes, a move Marian was beginning to really enjoy.
"You okay, beautiful?"
"You bet I am!" she yelled, still high on adrenaline.
Gwaine laughed. "Come on, let's get you on the horse and get out of here before that one wakes," he said, pointing to the bandit Marian had knocked out. "See, beautiful? You're fully capable of handling yourself."
He gathered the rest of his things and climbed on the horse behind her, kicking the beast into a gallop.
Marian and Gwaine had been riding for quite some time before they stopped to let the horse rest.
"Are you hungry yet?" he asked as he helped she slide down from the saddle.
"A little. You?"
"As a horse," he said, grinning.
He rummaged through the saddlebag and cursed. "Damn. I thought we had more pheasant."
"Gwaine?"
"Hmm?" he walked around the immediate area, searching for something to eat.
"What do you usually do for food?"
"Well," he said while looking up at one of the trees. "I hunt most of the time." He jumped to grab a branch and swung himself up the tree. "Sometimes I'll come across some coin…" He stretched, reaching up to the fruit hanging above. "…and can buy supplies…" His fingers grasped at an apple. "…and if I'm lucky… some…" He pulled the apple off the branch and reached for another. "…ale. Ah-ha! Got it!"
Marian shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up the tree at him. "Got what?"
"Here," he said, tossing an apple to her. "Eat up, sweetheart. There won't be much more for a while yet."
He bit into his apple, holding it with his teeth, as he climbed down from the tree.
She grinned, mouth full of the sweet fruit, when he jumped down in front of her, taking a bite. When she was done, she leaned against a fallen tree, examining her wrists.
"What is that salve made of? It feels amazing," she asked as she sniffed it.
"King's Wart," he replied. "Good for pain and promotes healing. Never go anywhere without it."
He handed her the water bladder and walked over to the edge of the small clearing.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed, startling her as she took a sip, the water dribbling down her chin. With a playful expression, she glared at him while wiping her chin.
He walked back over to her and produced a single purple blossom. "For you," he said, grinning as he placed it in her hair.
She gave him a shy smile and opened her mouth to thank him when they heard the snap of a twig somewhere in the distance.
"Stay here," Gwaine whispered to her, suddenly sober. He walked over to his horse, silently pulled his sword, and snuck around a large rock, jumping out, prepared to fight. Instead of bandits, Merlin and Arthur were caught by surprise and raised their hands in surrender.
"Gwaine!" Merlin shouted happily as he ran up to him to give him a quick hug. "What are you doing here?"
"Just wandering through the woods, minding my own business when I came across Lady Trouble here," he said as he gestured to the other side of the rock.
Arthur and Merlin carefully walked around the boulder and saw Marian leaning against a downed tree with a large branch in her hands. She was looking worse for wear, but she was alive and appeared unharmed.
"Merlin! Arthur!" she greeted as she dropped the branch.
"Marian!" Merlin called back, running over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you aren't hurt. We were all worried."
"Just wandering in the woods?" Arthur looked at Gwaine, eyebrow raised as he walked past him. Knowing Gwaine, he was more likely to be running from trouble himself.
"He saved my life, Arthur," she said, smiling fondly at Gwaine.
Arthur smiled and shook his head as he watched the pair grin at each other. Could they be more obvious? Perhaps some good had come of this whole debacle, after all. Sobering at the overwhelming guilt he felt, Arthur laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright, Marian. I can't say sorry enough for what Alec did to you. He's not the same man I knew."
"That man was a friend?" Gwaine asked.
"I thought he was. If I'd known what he was capable of, I'd never have allowed him to stay in Camelot."
She smiled softly. "Thank you, sire. And thank you for coming to rescue me. Though, I'm surprised the king allowed it."
"We are too," Merlin said. "He was pretty upset when we discovered what happened. Sir Gromer was beside himself as well, though I can't understand why."
"Maybe because his servant kidnapped her, you prat," Arthur said, exasperated.
"Well, there is that."
"But it seems that there was little need for us to worry, thanks to Gwaine," Arthur said as he clapped Gwaine on the back.
"I'm glad our paths have crossed again, Arthur." Gwaine smiled at the prince. "Should we head on to Camelot, then?"
"No, Gwaine, you can't," Marian spoke up.
Gwaine looked over at her hurt. "I mean to see you home safe and sound, beautiful."
"I know, and I appreciate that, and everything you've done for me," she reassured him. "But, Gwaine, if you go back to Camelot, the king will have you executed."
"Maybe I can disguise myself. Never be noticed," he said, walking closer to her.
"I can't let you risk that. Not for me. Merlin and Arthur can take me back. Please, promise me you won't put yourself in danger," she pleaded, grabbing his hand and holding it close. "Please."
He nodded, though reluctantly. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. "As you wish, beautiful." Though he was pleased that she worried about him, he didn't know if he could let her go without a fight.
"Thank you, Gwaine," Arthur said as Merlin left to fetch their horses. "Once again, Camelot owes you a debt of gratitude."
"Maybe someday we'll meet again, and you can buy a round or three of ale."
Arthur chuckled. The man never changes. He took the reins of his horse from Merlin and climbed into his saddle.
"Marian, you can ride with me," Merlin said.
She started to walk over to the horse when Gwaine pulled her back.
"Oh no, you don't," he said as he reached under her knees and around her waist. He picked her up and carried her to Merlin's horse, setting her down gently as the warlock climbed into his saddle.
"Hold on, I have something for you," Gwaine said as he went back to his horse. When he returned, he held out the jar of King's Wart salve to her. "Just in case, eh?"
Marian took the jar from him and clutched it to her chest, treasuring it. "What about you? Won't you need it?"
Gwaine shrugged. "You need it more than I do. I don't get into half as much trouble as you," he laughed.
She smiled but didn't laugh. She put the jar in Merlin's saddlebag, and looked down at her feet feeling awkward, and… sad.
Gwaine hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. "Don't be sad, beautiful. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon," he lied.
Marian smiled and nodded. "I know," she replied as she took off his jacket and handed it back. "Thank you for saving me, Gwaine."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. He was warm and comfortable and safe.
Gwaine was taken aback by the affectionate embrace but wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her closer. If he had his way, he'd never let her go. He swallowed a lump in his throat, keeping his emotions in check.
He'd never see Marian again. It had only been a fluke that he'd run across her outside Camelot. With no possibility of going back, the chance of them meeting again seemed doubtful. He was already mourning the loss of her, her touch, her laugh, her smile. It would take a long time for him to even get over her if he even could. No one else could compare.
He let go when he felt her release him. With uncertainty, he wondered if he could get away with giving her a goodbye kiss, or would the intimacy would anger her? For just a split second, he considered going ahead with it before she leaned in and planted a sudden kiss on his lips. With a tender smile, he gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Take care of yourself, love," he said in a near whisper.
"You too." Each time she saw Gwaine, he pushed himself into her heart a little more. And each time, she was more and more reluctant to see him go.
Gwaine helped her climb onto the horse behind Merlin, and Arthur clicked his tongue to urge them toward Camelot.
"Where are you headed this time?" Merlin asked.
Gwaine grinned. "Maybe east. See what trouble I can get into there," he laughed.
"Merlin!" Arthur yelled from the path ahead.
Merlin grinned at Gwaine and then kicked his horse to go.
As the horses took off, Marian turned her head to look back at Gwaine. "Goodbye, Gwaine," she said softly.
He smiled with a heavy heart at her and waved goodbye, his throat too tight to speak.
Marian's heart fluttered, her own throat tightening, as she feared she might never see Gwaine again. She wished he hadn't been banished from Camelot, and not just because he was a good fighter, but because she was growing fond of him. Perhaps their story wasn't over yet. Perhaps he would get to come back to Camelot. Perhaps she would see him again, sooner rather than later. Perhaps she would then realize that she was falling in love.
