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: Brokenhearted, Marian deals with the aftermath of Gwaine's disappearance. She refuses to give up until she's found a way back to Camelot… and him.

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The Journey to Britannia

Marian awoke hours later with the rising sun, still curled up on the floor and wearing Gwaine's shirt. She knew she needed to get up off the hard floor, but she couldn't bring herself to do it—the mere thought of moving was painful. She didn't want to, she didn't care to, and she tried to ignore her growling stomach, but in the end, she pulled herself up and walked into the bathroom.

Everything reminded her of the few days she'd had with Gwaine. When she flushed the toilet, she laughed bitterly, thinking of his surprise at something as simple as indoor plumbing. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she washed her hands. Her eyes were dry and red, and her nose looked swollen. Her hair was still ruffled from when Gwaine ran his hands through it. Honestly, she looked like shit. She felt like shit.

Not wanting to part with it for long, she removed his shirt and carefully folded it, setting it on top of the closed toilet lid. With puffy eyes and a frown on her face, she looked down at her bra and panties. He had reacted just as she had hoped when he saw the sexy lingerie. In fact, Gwaine couldn't keep his hands off her.

Angry at the path Fate had set her on, Marian tore them from her body and threw them in the corner, screaming. "Fuck you! Fuck! Goddammit! Fuck!" she cried out to the empty room. She continued to scream until her body felt weak and her throat was raw. "Fuck…" she sobbed.

She wiped her eyes and nose and then turned on the shower. When she entered, her skin turned bright pink as she stood under the scalding shower, trying to wash away her grief.

"Get it together." She poured shampoo into her hand. "You need a plan." Lathering her hair, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Nothing is going to keep me from him. Do you hear me Fate? You won't keep me from my Gwaine."

When she got out of the shower and brushed her teeth, Marian dressed and started to work on her plan to return to Camelot.

Hoping that her friends had found a way for her to return to Camelot, Marian had traveled around the UK looking for clues. After a week of research, she came up with an itinerary that took her from Scotland all the way to Cornwall. The trip would most likely max out all of her credit cards and use up what little savings she had, but she didn't give a fuck. If she made it back, it wouldn't matter. If she didn't, well, then she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Numerous landmarks and sites connected to the Arthurian legends included perplexing elements, such as the multiple burial sites attributed to Merlin. But she was determined to get back. The first place she tried after she landed in Edinburgh was Arthur's Seat, a long-since-dead volcano overlooking the capital city. Although it was beautiful and the history enthusiast in her was interested, it didn't hold any answers for her.

She traveled to the village of Drumelzier, one of the rumored places of burial for Merlin, and again found nothing. Marian continued to travel around Britain, looking for answers. She went from Scotland to Wales, visiting Carmarthen, which, according to local lore, was supposed to be Merlin's birthplace. Perhaps it had once been called Ealdor?

While in Wales, she also went to Bardsey Island, another rumored resting place for Merlin. It was no wonder that so much of what she had learned about the Arthurian legends had turned out to be wrong. During her research for her trip, she had found no less than three places that claimed to be the final resting place of the wizard.

Having found no clues, Marian traveled down to Winchester, in Hampshire. There in the Great Hall of Winchester Castle hung the Round Table of Arthur's Court. It had the names of the Knights of the Round Table in intricate but near illegible letters around its edge.

"Arthur, of course. Galahad," she giggled, thinking of Gwaine's horse sitting at the actual table in Camelot. "Lancelot…" She gasped, surprised at her strong reaction to seeing Gwaine—well, Gawain. "Gwaine," she whispered as silent tears fell. A few of the other tourists gave her a strange look as she continued to cry on her way out.

She had a few more stops before her quest would be complete, whether she found what she was looking for or not. Anxious to reach Tintagel in Cornwall, the place where Arthur was believed to have been conceived and also thought to be the real Camelot, she traveled straight through the other counties as quickly as possible.

Tintagel was an exciting place to visit, with its ruins and Merlin's Cave beneath, but the geography was all wrong. Camelot wasn't near the sea, though she supposed things could have changed in fifteen hundred years. Marian wandered around the ruins, walking across the new bridge that connected the two sides of the ruined castle and thought of Gwaine.

Gwaine wandered the ruins of an ancient castle. As he walked through the dilapidated halls, he heard waves beating against the shore. Curious, he went over to one of the windows and looked out. The castle was by the sea.

"Gwaine?" he heard her voice, the voice he had longed to hear for what felt like forever. "Are you here?"

He looked around for her, searching for the beautiful woman that held his heart. Gwaine rushed through the open corridor and stopped as he saw her. She stood out in a stone courtyard, her hair and skirt blowing in the salty wind.

"Gwaine?" she called for him. "Find me!"

He reached out to her to touch her, to let her know he was there beside her, but his hand passed through her flesh. He tried again.

"Marian! I'm here!"

She turned away as if she hadn't heard him. "Gwaine, I need you. Find me…" she breathed as she walked away from him.

"Marian! Come back! I'm here, beautiful! I'm right here!"

He followed her out of the ruins and to a bridge. As she left the castle, he ran after her, but an invisible force stopped him before his foot left the stone. He tried to push his way past the barrier but was held back.

Panicking, he yelled to her. "Marian! Wait! Wait for me!"

He tried to leave the castle, pushing with all of his strength, but the ruins had ahold of him and wouldn't let go.

"Marian! Don't leave!" he yelled as she disappeared into the distance. "Marian!"

Gwaine sat up in a panic, his blanket falling from his chest. "Marian!" he yelled into the dark, his body drenched with sweat. He felt for the flint and steel beside the bed and lit a candle. He was in his bedchamber in Camelot. Alone.

He swung his legs off the side of the bed and held his head in his hands. It was nothing more than a dream. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd dreamt of Marian in the last few weeks, but it was by far the most disturbing dream he'd had. It felt so real like he could have touched her and gone with her if the ruins had let him.

Desperate to clear his head, he stood, pulling his tunic off, and walked the corridors in his bare feet, letting his mind wander aimlessly. He didn't realize where he was until he'd pushed the door open and stepped inside Marian's old bedchamber.

Gwaine opened the window curtains, letting the moonlight brighten the dark room. Looking out at the full moon, he remembered what Marian had told him that last night in her time. The moon he saw that night was the same moon he looked at in Camelot. He wondered if she was doing the same thing in the future. Maybe she was looking at the moon and thinking of him.

He turned away, angry at the turn his life had taken, and walked over to her chest of drawers. On top was the emerald necklace he had given her for her birthday. He picked it up, trying to feel the warmth he knew it held as she wore it, but he needed more. He needed to feel her, to smell her.

Opening one of her dresser drawers, he found the bright blue serving dress he'd had made for her years ago. It was her favorite, a little more well-worn than her other dresses. He gently picked it up and shook it out, the skirt unfolding. Gwaine held the fabric to his face and drew in a deep breath. It still smelled like her, floral and sweet, with a hint of apples.

Fatigued, he went over to her bed and laid down—her pillow still held the indention of her head. He buried his face as he cried for her, holding her dress and necklace close. The pillow muffled him as he screamed and cursed and wailed. It was unfair that they were parted. He had never thought it possible to love until he'd met her. He would never love again.

The next morning, on his way to wake the king, Merlin noticed the door to Marian's chamber was ajar. He looked in and saw Gwaine asleep on her bed, clutching her blue dress. His heart broke for him. They all missed her, but Gwaine's grief was so much more than any of them could imagine.

Merlin pulled the door shut so no one would bother him. He remembered Gwaine's pleas to find a spell to bring her back and decided that after he brought Arthur his breakfast, he would go down to the library and do more research on time travel. Surely, there was something in Geoffrey of Monmouth's extensive collection that would help him bring his friend back to Camelot.

Marian stood outside a pub in Glastonbury in Somerset, looking up at the moon above as it mocked her. Shivering, she pulled Gwaine's jacket tight over the last tee shirt he wore. She wondered if he was looking at the same moon and thinking of her.

Her journey was coming to an end. She had walked around Cadbury Castle before coming to Glastonbury to take the tour of the Abbey. Though impressive, neither place held any clues for her. Even though she had yet to visit Glastonbury Tor, which was rumored to be Avalon, she was almost ready to give up. There had been no traces of truth in the legends. She'd failed herself and worse… she failed Gwaine.

Besides, she was about to max out her last credit card. She hadn't worked in so long and had little savings, which was now depleted. Near destitute, she didn't even think she had enough money to make it back to America.

Frowning, she looked up at the sign on the pub before her, The King Arthur. Of course. She gave a bitter laugh before opening the door and stepping in.

"What'll it be, love?" the barkeep asked as she sat on a stool.

"Surprise me," she said flatly. She pulled out her card and laid it on the counter.

A moment later, the barkeep set a pint of amber liquid in front of her. "How's apple cider sound?"

She barked out a laugh. "Great. Just great." Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a long draft and closed her eyes as the sweet ale flowed over her tongue and down her throat. "I'll take another," she said as she placed the empty pint down on the bar.

The barkeep gave her another cider and ran her credit card for payment. She nursed the rest of her drink, her head lowered as she stared through the bar at nothing. What was she going to do? How could she go on with her life when her heart had shattered?

"Looking for someone?" a soft voice said from beside her.

She turned and saw an ancient man sitting on the stool next to her, drink in hand. He was dressed in layers with a knitted cap stretched over the top of his head. His scraggly beard moved as he spoke.

"Could be that you're looking in the right place, but not in the right moment," he said without looking at her. His voice sounded frail and yet strong at the same time. His liver-spotted hands lifted the thick, heavy pint to his lips. He finished his drink in one go and motioned to the barkeep for another. "You'd know all about being in the wrong time, wouldn't you, Marian Ragnell?"

"How—?"

The man turned to face her, his whiskers upturned with his mouth, and his eyes sparkling with youth and mischief.

Marian dropped the glass she was holding, shattering it on the floor. "Merlin?" she whispered in disbelief.

He cackled. "Aye, dear girl. It has been many moons since we last saw each other." The barkeep set Merlin's pint in front of him and glared at Marian. "Come, I have a private table in the back. We can speak more there," Merlin said as he stood, wobbling slightly.

She hurried to his side and helped him walk. "You have a private table?"

"I own the place."

She chuckled, "Of course you do."

They sat at a table hidden in shadow at the back of the pub. "How are you even here?" she asked as she sat next to him. "Surely you haven't been living in Somerset all these years?"

He grinned at her. "Where did you think I'd be?"

"I don't know. Buried in Wales? Or in Scotland? Or in a tree?"

Merlin chuckled loudly at the last one.

She crossed her arms. "What's so funny? It's not as farfetched as some of the things that actually happened, is it?"

"Who do you think came up with that ridiculous story? A tree!" He laughed. "As if anyone could imprison me!"

Marian narrowed her eyes at the old man. "You did this, didn't you? You fed these outrageous rumors to scholars?"

He nodded as he continued to laugh.

"You ass! I spent my college years learning that stuff! I traveled for a month with false hope to see all of that! And for what?"

"You traveled until you were ready." Suddenly sobering, he watched her as if he was looking into her soul. "Tell me, Marian. What do you really want?"

"I want to be with Gwaine. I love him, Merlin. I feel like half of me is missing."

"And so you shall, my dear." He said as he laid his wrinkled hand on hers. He leaned in closer, keeping his voice low. "I have found what you're looking for. It's taken me over a millennium to find it, but I can send you back."

She looked at him in shock. She hadn't expected it to be this easy. "How?"

"The last of the magic I have. At least until Arthur returns. Do not fret, the spell will not reverse," he said quickly when she opened her mouth to speak. "Do you want this, Marian? You must be absolutely sure, girl! It will not work if your heart is not in it!"

"Yes, I'm sure," she nodded with a sense of urgency. "I belong in Camelot with Gwaine and you and Gaius." She stopped to look closely at him and bit her lip. "What did you mean by the last of your magic?"

Merlin smiled brightly at her. "The Crystal Cave is lost. Magic has no place in this modern world. It is no matter. It will return when the Once and Future King returns to save Albion."

"And you want to use the last of it on me?"

Merlin grew serious. He looked at her, the weight of his words hitting her. "It is our destiny, Marian Ragnell. There are many more adventures awaiting you."

She nodded. "Right. What do I need to do?"

The next evening, Marian made her way to Glastonbury Tor—to Avalon—where Merlin promised to meet her. After the sun had set, Marian walked to the top and entered St. Michael's Tower. In the middle of the hollow tower stood the ancient wizard, the moonlight illuminating his long, white beard. She looked up and smiled. Rather than a ceiling, she saw the night sky, the moon and the stars sparkling.

As agreed, Marian brought nothing modern with her, save the clothes she wore—well, and her cell phone. If the spell were to work and send her back to Camelot, she made a promise to Merlin that she would burn the dress and melt down any modern fastenings. Meddling with time was dangerous and could have severe, if not apocalyptic consequences.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft.

Marian embraced him, careful not to squeeze his frail body too hard. When she pulled back, she looked deep into his soulful eyes. "I'm ready. And just so you know, if this doesn't work, I won't hold it against you," she said as she smiled. Small tears escaped her eyes as she thought of leaving the wizard all alone in the world to wait for Arthur's return. "Will you be okay? On your own?"

Merlin touched her cheek with his bony fingers. "My dear girl, don't cry. I will be content to stay and watch over Arthur." At her skeptical look, he laughed. "I'll be fine, Marian. I promise."

"I just hate leaving you again."

"Do not fret. You will see me again. As I will see you. Funny thing, time."

Merlin smiled. It was the first genuine smile she had seen on his weathered face. She placed something in his hand and leaned forward, kissing his cheek. He looked surprised at the contact, and he reached up to caress where she had kissed him. His brow knitted as he glanced down at what she had given him.

"It's my phone. Gwaine and I took a lot of pictures, and I thought maybe you'd want to look at it every once in a while. You know, to think of me and how much I've loved you."

He sniffed back his tears, placed the phone on the ground, and pulled her in place. "Now, stand just here."

He backed away from her and lifted his head and hands to the sky. "Strengthe ealdan aewfaestnesse, ic her accigie ænne windraes! Færblæd waw! Windræs ungetermed, ge hier! Ic de bebeod mid ealle strangesse!" his deep voice echoed.

A wind blew through the tower. It circled Marian and howled, gaining strength. Clouds gathered overhead, and the moon disappeared.

"Besendest þone idese bestepeþ duru þá dægtíde to he haefth hie heort!"

Lightning flashed in the sky above and came down quickly, striking the wizard's outstretched hands. He lowered his head and looked at Marian.

"Efencume ætgædre, eala gastas cræft ige! Aliese thas maegth to Camelot, to heo hine lyste, for ecnesse!"

Marian felt the electricity crackle around her. The wind was getting stronger, and she could've sworn she was being lifted. The hair on the back of her neck and on her arms stood as she watched Merlin's eyes glow with magic.

"Bestaep!"

In a flash of light, Marian was pulled from time. She fell weightlessly through the dark. All thoughts soon turned to Gwaine. She hoped she would end up in the right time and the right place. She hoped to see him alive and well. She hoped to be in his arms again. She hoped.

The darkness vanished and Marian collapsed to her knees. It felt like her head had been split in two. She grabbed at her temples, seemingly trying to push her skull back together, and the guttural scream that spilled from her echoed through the forest. When she ran out of breath, she slumped to the ground, allowing the darkness to consume her once again.

A very rough translation of Spells: (As pulled from the Merlin Wiki on merlin dot fandom dot com and oldenglishtranslator dot co dot uk)

Strengthe ealdan aewfaestnesse, ic her accigie ænne windraes! Færblæd waw! Windræs ungetermed: ge hier! Ic de bebeod mid ealle strangesse! Besendest þone idese bestepeþ duru þá dægtíde to he haefth hie heort! Efencume ætgædre, eala gastas cræft ige! Aliese thas maegth to Camelot, to heo hine lyste, for ecnesse! Bestaep! – By the power of the Old Religion, here I summon a storm of wind! Sudden blast of wind, blow! You, strong and unstoppable storm of wind, obey! I command you with all my power! Send this woman to enter the door of time to he that holds her heart! Oh, spirits, assemble together your skills! Deliver this maiden to Camelot, to him that she desires, for eternity! Go!