Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gwaine had a problem.

It wasn't that he was unused to problems- he almost always had something or other going on that required immediate attention, but this problem was particularly vexing.

A part of that feeling was because he even had a problem at all.

From an outside perspective, life for Gwaine should be perfect. Morgana had been kicked out of Camelot, one of his dearest friends (not that he'd ever admit to it, unless drunk) was happily married to a sweet girl, and he had finally payed off his debt at the tavern (he had, of course, immediately started to amass a new one, but that was beside the point).

But no, what should have been a brilliant time in Gwaine's life was marred by one, tiny, unresolvable issue.

Namely, Merlin

Or, more specifically, how Merlin made him feel.

See, Gwaine had been, for quite some time, Merlin's best friend. And, even before she herself had admitted it, before he joined the knights, Gwaine had told anybody who asked him that Merlin was his only friend.

He was fine with that.

He was humbled by it, in fact. From the moment Gwaine had met Merlin (he saved her and Arthur from some thugs in a tavern, she healed him and helped get him to his room when he was too drunk to stand), he had noticed that there was something different about her.

Gwaine had seen her walk into the tavern that day, but paid her little mind other than to note that she was, in her own way, quite pretty, but, since he had several other (arguably more beautiful) maids to satisfy those urges, he cast Merlin out of his mind until he had to step in to prevent her and his Royal Prat-ness from being beat to a pulp.

The last thing he remembered before passing out from the knife wound was a lilting voice by his head and soft hands pressing down on the wound.

When he woke up, it was to Merlin beaming her signature smile (or at least, what he now knew to be her signature smile) at him, carrying a tray of food. Over the course of the next few days, Merlin had proven herself to be loyal (to Arthur), caring (to a fault), patient (for putting up with him) and very, very, special.

So, when Merlin said that she'd miss Gwaine and that she wished he'd stay, he took it as a compliment of the highest order.

Many weeks later, as they sat by the fire together, resting before they continued on their search for Arthur, and Merlin had told him that she'd do the same for him, something had shifted, not that he'd noticed at the time.

It wasn't until many, many months later (after Gwaine had helped Merlin and Arthur find the Cup of Life, after he'd been knighted, after he'd help take back Camelot from Morgana for the first time), that Gwaine realized that something was different.

Being knighted and being best friends with the Prince apparently had it's perks, since Gwaine became more aware than ever of the looks being thrown his way (by both men and women).

Before, he would have been all over the opportunity, but for some strange reason, he found that he couldn't bring himself to do it, and he couldn't figure out why.

None of the other knights were any help (they simply rolled their eyes at his behavior). Arthur was too besotted with Gwen to pay any mind.

As for Merlin- well.

Gwaine knew that Merlin, being as kind and helpful as she was, would be more than happy to help him figure out why he had hit such a slump, but for some strange reason, despite everything else he had shared with her, the thought of Merlin knowing about his personal habits gave him a strange feeling in his stomach.

The feeling grew and grew and grew until that night, at the veil, where Merlin somehow managed to get past him and Lancelot and Arthur, and willingly gave herself up to be sacrificed (the Cailleach, surprisingly had not had Merlin walk through the veil, but had instead stuck true to the idea of a blood sacrifice and stabbed Merlin in the abdomen).

Gwaine had pressed down on the wound with all of his might, doing his best to ignore how it just wouldn't stop, trying to keep the blood from escaping. For only a second, Merlin, in a shockingly lucid state, had looked up at him, eyes wide and as blue as ever, before blood loss caused her to pass out.

But it was enough for Gwaine to finally understand.

He was in love with her.

Despite the earth shattering revelation, not much changed.

Merlin survived and thrived, as she always did. Gwaine went on being her friend, not really sure what to do now. He helped Arthur find her when she disappeared (even exhausted and covered in mud, she still grinned like a mad-woman) and stood by her side when she searched for Gaius. He had protected the aging physician when trapped in the dungeons by Morgana, partially because it was in the Knight's Code, partially because he liked Gaius, but mainly because he couldn't bear to imagine Merlin's devastation if something happened to him.

When had he become such a sap?

But therein lay the problem.

Months had gone by. Tristan was now Arthur's chief advisor, taking over Agravaine's place, Gwaine had become a sap, and he had fallen in love with a girl who still had no idea what she did to him.

Gwaine had first tried denial. He ignored Merlin. Refused to look her in the eye, determined that this whole issue was nothing more than a silly infatuation, a crush. But avoiding Merlin was difficult, since she was constantly running around for the king and going with the knights on patrol.

The more time he spent with her, the harder it became to convince himself that this was nothing. She would smile or laugh or stick her tongue at Arthur and Gwaine would have to resist the urge from grabbing her and- well, let's just say performing activities that weren't quite fit for public viewing.

It didn't help that Merlin's comfort level with the knights had risen to the point where she had grown quite physical with them: squeezing their hands in encouragement, hugging them when they were down, even kissing them on the cheek every now and then.

(When she had done that to poor Percival for the first time, he had almost broken the fork he had been holding in surprise).

So, finally resigning himself to the fact that he was in love with Merlin (brilliant, beautiful, cheerful Merlin), Gwaine resolved to do something about it.

Gwaine had never had problems with women, as mentioned, but this was Merlin. He couldn't go about things the normal way. Besides the fact that she deserved better, he couldn't risk ruining the friendship that he valued so greatly.

He had tried to be subtle at first: helping her with her chores, carrying things for her, and the like, but she had brushed it off as just a friend caring for another friend.

That was thing about Merlin. She made friends far too easily. Gwaine had always admired that about her (if she had been any different, she probably never would have bothered to get to know him), but right now, with her so accustomed to people being nice to her, Gwaine's actions went unnoticed.

"Subtle" had flown out the door a few weeks ago at the tavern, where he, the knights, Arthur, and Merlin had been relaxing after a long patrol. They were all a little tipsy, but none more so than Gwaine.

Merlin had been laughing at a story Percival was telling when somebody (one of the drunk guards, Gwaine had recognized) made a lewd comment about her and her relationship with the knights.

Merlin awoke protective feelings in even the hardest of hearts (she was just so small and innocent looking and happy), so the guard should have expected about half the tavern to rise up in her defence, which it did.

What Gwaine should have expected was Merlin to defend herself. He had seen her do it countless times, after all. She would defend herself against Arthur with a quick retort. She defended herself against arrogant nobles by "accidentally" spilling wine on them or getting rat poop in their favorite shoes. She was useless with a weapon, but she somehow managed to make it through even the most difficult battles unscathed.

(Gwaine had a theory about that, but he couldn't bring himself to dwell on it, knowing what it would mean for her, so he let her keep her secret, wondering if she thought he was too thick to notice and if she would ever trust him enough to let him in on it.)

He should have known that she would have no problems defending herself against drunk men in the tavern, but maybe he himself was too drunk to think it through. Before anybody could say anything in Merlin's defense (or before Arthur could have him beheaded, Gwaine thought ruefully), Merlin had gotten up and moved to stand face to face with her accuser, who was standing on wobbly legs.

"Take that back," she said firmly.

The man had shaken his head slowly. "No."

Merlin's scowl deepened. "Well, then, lucky you, because a girl is finally going to touch you in your little, special place."

Then, Merlin brought her foot up in one of the most spectacular kicks Gwaine had ever seen, hitting the man right in the groin. As he collapsed to the floor, Merlin's friends erupted into cheers and Elyan ordered a new round of drinks for them all.

As she sat down, face flushed, all Gwaine could think of was how absolutely, irrevocably, head over heels in love, he was with this woman.

So, being more than a bit drunk, and incredibly proud of Merlin, he leaned down and kissed her.

Gwaine's memory of the rest of the night was blurred, but his memory of that kiss would probably be burned into his mind until the day he died. Merlin's lips were soft, and tasted faintly of the ale she had been drinking. Even through the smell of sweat and dirt that permeated the air of the tavern, Gwaine could still make out the scent of fresh herbs and grass after it had rained and Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.

At first, Gwaine had been convinced that she was kissing him back because she raised her hands to cup his face, but then she was pushing him away and staring at him oddly.

Before Gwaine could worry that he had ruined their friendship, Merlin had smiled at him.

"How much have you had to drink today?"

Gwaine had frowned and tried to understand why it was so important. "Just- A lot."

Merlin had snorted while the rest of their friends guffawed, and then helped him stand up and get to his room, the kiss all but forgotten by her.

Sometimes, though, Gwaine would imagine that Merlin really had been about to kiss him back, in that moment when her small hands rested on his face, before she had pushed him away, and he would imagine what a real kiss from Merlin would feel like.

It was that thought that convinced him he had to end all this sidestepping. He had tried being subtle, he had tried being overt, so now he was going to do the only thing that he could think of.

He was going to ask her on a date.

There was going to be a small festival in the lower town, with jugglers and acrobats and performers, and Gwaine remembered how gleeful Merlin was at Arthur's birthday party, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Gwaine saw his chance one night as the knights and Arthur were coming home after investigating the claim of bandits in a small village to the north. The search had proved unfruitful, since the bandits were long gone, but the villagers were relieved to see their King, and were in a much better state when the group left.

About a day's ride away from Camelot, they stopped for the night, and Merlin offered to go get more firewood before she went to bed, since their fire was dying out. Gwaine offered to with her.

Merlin raised her eyebrows. "It's just firewood, Gwaine."

"There're still bandits about," he shrugged, aiming to look nonchalant as he picked up his sword. Merlin nodded and headed off into the woods. As Gwaine went to follow, he did his best to ignore the knights' smirks and knowing looks and Lancelot's quiet, "Good luck."

Apparently, everybody but Merlin knew of his affection for her.

Brilliant.

"You're awful quiet," Gwaine offered, as Merlin inspected a chunk of wood. Deciding that it wasn't suitable, she threw onto the ground and looked up at him.

"Just tired, I s'pose." She blew a strand of hair out of her face as she bent over to grab some pieces of pine. Gwaine tried not to stare.

"Ah-" He started. He coughed, "Arthur working you too hard, then?"

"No more than usual," Merlin said, straightening herself back up. Gwaine told himself that he wasn't too disappointed (he was).

"Wondering whether or not you had any time off coming soon," he said. "They're having that festival in the lower town. Thought we might go together."

Merlin blinked and, for a minute, Gwaine thought she was going to turn him down. Then she smiled. "That sounds great! I've been meaning to go! I thought about asking Arthur for a day off, but was worried he'd say no, but if I tell him I'll be with you, he might say yes, and, even if he doesn't, I can always tell Gwen. She'll have him give me the day off."

"You love having her on your side, don't you?" Gwaine joked, trying not to make the fact that his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest obvious.

She said yes, she said yes, she said yes.

Merlin smirked evilly. "It has its advantages, I must admit," she said loftily.

Gwaine couldn't keep the smile off his face as they headed back to camp, finally having gathered enough wood. Gwaine took it from her, ignoring her confused look, leaving her free to go to sleep the moment they arrived back.

As Merlin buried herself in her bedroll, Gwaine threw the wood into the fire and winked at his friends.

Lancelot could keep his luck. Gwaine had a date with Merlin.

Chapter Text

It was almost sunset by the time Gwaine found himself waiting by the entrance to the lower town for Merlin, the next day. He stretched a bit, muscles a bit sore from what had been a particularly brutal training session with Arthur, but an amputated leg would not have been able to keep him from seeing Merlin today.

"Gwaine!" called a voice through the crowd. Gwaine grinned when he saw Merlin fighting her way through the throng of people, face flushed from the effort.

"Merlin!" He called back to her, but she had already seen him. She stopped right in front of him, smiling.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Of course, princess," he smirked, offering her his arm. Merlin smiled wider, if that were even possible, and looped her elbow through his, remembering the day in the market where he had cornered her and jokingly called her a princess and offered her flowers.

"It's a shame we couldn't come earlier," Merlin noted. "Arthur wouldn't give me the morning off. Apparently I had to be at the council meeting with him, even though he wouldn't give me a real reason as to why. Personally, I think he feels that if he has to be tortured with all of those boring reports, I should be, too."

Merlin pulled a face.

"You do his laundry and clean out his chamber pot," Gwaine said with a grimace. "Aren't you tortured enough?"

"I suppose," Merlin said. Gwaine was surprised at her reluctance. It wasn't often that she missed up on a chance to insult Arthur. Then she said, "But he's tortured every time he looks in the mirror, so I suppose it all balances out."

Gwaine let out a bark of laughter, attracting the attention of quite a few villagers. If Merlin cared, she didn't say anything. She was far too busy looking around them with a child-like wonder.

He and Merlin were making their way through the first part of the festival, consisting of stalls selling clothing, jewelry, and food. The sun was slowly fading, taking with it much of the warmth of the spring day, leaving what looked to be a crisp, cool night. The smell of food filled the air and the crowd was abuzz with excitement.

Gwaine looked down at Merlin, whose attention had been caught by a stall not far from them. Before Gwaine had a chance to protest, she had dashed off for a closer look. He frowned, not liking how empty his side felt without her next to it, before following and thanking any god that would listen that none of his fellow knights knew what went on his head some of the time.

Merlin had never seemed like the type to like markets. At least, not the sort of markets that the other noblewomen spent their time in, simpering over the latest fashions and trends. That had been Gwaine's opinion. Still, she seemed completely focused on a pair of delicate pink earrings that Gwaine could honestly never see her wearing.

"What do you think?" she turned to him. He raised an eyebrow, not sure how to tell her that he thought they did not suit her in the least.

"For you?" He asked hesitantly.

Merlin shook her head. "For Gwen."

"Gwen?"

"It's her birthday soon," Merlin explained, and suddenly everything made a bit more sense. "I wanted to get her something nice. Do you think she'll like them?"

Gwaine couldn't help but admit to himself that the earrings would look quite nice on their queen. He had seen plenty of jewelry and plenty of clothing on plenty of women (and helped them take most of it off, later) to know what looked good and what did not. The earrings' pale color would flatter Gwen's dark skin nicely.

But instead of telling this to Merlin and making her suspicious of his old nighttime habits (hardly the time to bring it up), he simply said, "You know her better than I."

Merlin nodded, satisfied, and turned to the merchant, ready to haggle the price down. Gwaine decided to leave her to it for a moment, browsing the stalls in search of food. Training had left him starving and he could do with a bite- preferable something quick, preferably an apple.

"I think I have what you're looking for," cackled a voice to Gwaine's left. Gwaine turned and saw an old woman standing behind a stall selling jewelry. The woman looked frail and ancient, and was stooped slightly, looking as though she were weighed down by the sheer volume of the velvet robes she had draped on.

"I seriously doubt that," he said politely.

"So you aren't looking for some pretty baubles, then?" the woman asked.

Gwaine shook his head. "Actually, I was looking for an apple."

"You know not what you seek!" the old lady declared wildly.

Gwaine blinked and took a step towards her. "Pardon?"

The woman waved him closer. "Yes, yes, come here. Anna can show you what you need. An apple? Fie! That won't win you a girl's heart!"

"What girl?" Gwaine demanded, suddenly apprehensive.

"This is what you need," the woman (Anna, apparently) said triumphantly. She held out a necklace for him, which he took out of pure reflex.

He looked at it. "It's very pretty."

Gwaine wasn't really sure how else to tell her (without hurting her feelings, since Merlin probably wouldn't appreciate it if he made an old woman cry on their first date (first date with Merlin, first date with Merlin, he was on a first date with Merlin)) that the necklace looked nothing like an apple: shaped like an upside down triangle, with curly gold bits at the corners, the design pointed inward at a shiny, blue-grey, stone in the center.

"The shield design will protect the wearer from evil," Anna's voice floated over to him. "And the moonstone is said to arouse tender passions in lovers and give them the power to read the future. Perfect, no?"

Gwaine looked down at the necklace, then back up at the old lady, who was watching him, then back down, then up again.

"What a load of rubbish," he said bluntly.

The woman deflated and grinned at him ruefully. When she spoke, her voice was much more normal and far less cackling. "I knew you were a smart man. What gave it away?"

"Nothing," Gwaine admitted. "I don't believe in superstition."

"Hm," the woman hummed, removing one of the veils she was wearing and wiping her brow with it. It may have been a cool night, but she still must have been sweltering in the clothing, Gwaine assumed.

"How'd you know about the girl?"

Anna snorted. "Handsome man like you? There's always a girl."

Gwaine laughed. He liked this woman. Then he looked back down at the necklace, fingering it a bit in his hands. The material was good- nice and sturdy, and the chain looked durable. It really was quite pretty, in a simple way.

"I wasn't making any of it up," Anna offered, taking a swig of something in a flask. Gwaine had a feeling that it wasn't water, and had to resist the urge to ask her for a swig. His nerves were killing him. "All that nonsense about the stone and the shield and whatnot? Ancient lore says its all true, if you believe in that hocus-pocus."

"And you don't?"

"Of course not," she snorted, before plastering on a mysterious smile for a young girl that was walking by.

"Then why all of the-" Gwaine waved his hand in front of the stall.

"Theatrics?" Anna supplied. "Helps with business. Most of the lot here love a good bit of mystery and magic, sorcery being outlawed and all. Makes 'em feel like they're living dangerously. Idiots."

Gwaine tried not to smile wider.

"Gwaine?"

Gwaine looked over his shoulder to see that Merlin had finished bartering for the earrings and was now looking for him. Quickly, before she could see, he fished into his pocket and pulled out some money, placing it in front of Anna, and quickly put the necklace away.

He bid goodbye to the woman with a nod and walked over to Merlin, who was looking around confusedly, her back to him.

"Hello, princess," poking her slightly in the ribs. She jumped higher than Gwaine had ever seen, and when she turned to face him, her face was set in a deep scowl, as opposed to its usual smile.

"Don't do that!" Merlin ordered, slapping his hands away.

He held his hands up in surrender and smirked. "I make no promises."

"Of course you don't," Merlin said wryly.

"Do you have Gwen's gift, then?" Gwaine asked. Merlin patted her pocket and nodded, smiling proudly at herself now.

"I think she'll really like them."

"I think she'd like anything that you go her, Merlin," Gwaine pointed out, knowing well enough of their queen's sweet disposition.

Apparently, this was the right thing to say, since Merlin cheerfully linked her arm with his again and tugged him forward. "C'mon, then! Let's find you some food and go watch the shows!"

"How'd you know I was hungry?" Gwaine asked incredulously.

"You're always hungry," Merlin said easily, looking around for a food maker's stall. They passed Anna's stall quickly, but not quickly enough for Gwaine to miss her giving him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

They quickly found a fruit vendor (Gwaine liked to say that it because of his superb sense of smell, but, in truth, they'd probably still be wandering around if Merlin hadn't stopped to ask somebody) and Gwaine was happily munching on his apple when they stopped to watch a street performer who was beckoning them in.

Set up on a small platform, surrounded and lit up by torches, the man was small, older, and had black hair that was so slicked back it looked as though it had been glued to his head. If Gwaine had thought Anna's robes over-the-top, they had nothing on this man.

"Gather round," the middle-aged man crowed. "Yes, gather round, and feast your eyes on an illusion so amazing that you will- you will be amazed," he faltered towards the end.

"He's setting himself up for failure," Gwaine commented, taking another bite of his apple.

Merlin snorted, behind her hand, trying to hid her laugh with a cough. The man (Bedwyr the Magnificent, apparently) noticed though, and glared for a split second, before smiling grandly at the gathered crowd once again.

The show began well. He performed a small number of simple illusions, which the crowd seemed to enjoy. Gwaine wasn't paying a large amount of attention to him, if he were honest with himself. He was too busy watching Merlin, who was clearly enjoying herself, and congratulating himself on his idea to bring her here.

"For my next trick," Bedwyr declared, as a flock of doves disappeared into smoke, "I will need a volunteer from the audience."

He made a grand show of looking around the audience carefully, but Gwaine had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him exactly who Bedwyr was going to pick. Bedwyr's eyes settled on him and he made a face as Bedwyr said, "You! Yes, you, the pretty lady in blue!"

Gwaine let out a sigh of relief, as he was neither a lady or in blue (although some might argue that he was pretty).

"You! In the neckerchief!"

Gwaine almost choked on his apple. There was only one girl he knew who wore neckerchiefs-

Merlin was apparently as surprised as he was. She looked down at the cloth she wore around her neck and touched it, as if to make sure it was real, and then looked up at Bedwyr and pointed at herself. "Me?"

Bedwyr nodded and walked over to her. Butting Gwaine out of the way, Bedwyr placed his arm around Merlin's shoulder and lead her forward (Gwaine resisted the urge to run him through with his sword, even though he was sure Arthur would understand and his sentence would be minimal).

"No need to be so modest-?"

"Merlin," Merlin said politely.

"A lovely name for a lovely girl," Bedwyr said smoothly, making Merlin blush. Gwaine narrowed his eyes, filled with an irrational jealousy stemming from the absurd thought that only he (and maybe Arthur, he grudgingly admitted) was allowed to make Merlin blush like that. One of Bedwyr's assistants brought out a large, brown box and stood it upright, opening up several panels in the front. "Now, Merlin. If you don't mind, please climb into the box. There you go!"

Merlin had hopped into the box and fit herself inside. For anybody else, it might have been a tight squeeze, but Merlin had always been on the small side. She made herself comfortable and then waved at Gwaine. He smiled tensely back.

Something about Bedwyr was off. The little man irked him, so he watched suspiciously as Bedwyr shut Merlin up in the box, until only her face remained.

"Alright in there, Merlin?"

Merlin clearly tried to nod, but wasn't able to because of the box, so instead opted for a muffled, "Yes."

"I'm going to close this panel, now. It'll be dark and cramped. If you need to be let out, tap three times on the side of the box, alright? Can you do that now?"

Merlin did and Bedwyr nodded, closing the final panel of the box, locking the clasp with a little gold key, as he had done with all of the other panels. Merlin was completely out of sight and locked inside.

"Now, this is nothing more than a normal, wooden box!"

The assistants spun the box around a few times, showing it off form all angles. Bedwyr leaned against it and smirked. "However, on the count of three, I will make Merlin disappear! Please count!"

The crowd, clearly excited, began to chant with him, as he waved his hands up and down, eyes closed as though concentrating. Gwaine looked around him, and then back at Bedwyr, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead keeping them fixed on the box.

"One, two, three!"

Gwaine had been expecting some sort of flash, or puff of smoke, but there was nothing. The crowd was clearly disappointed. Bedwyr, however, was not surprised. He just chuckled and walked over to the cover of the box and began to unlock it.

"You expected grandness and theatrics," Bedwyr said, as though scolding small children. "But a truly amazing trick needs nothing save itself to baffle the minds of the audience. Behold!"

Bedwyr whipped the panels of the box and revealed-

Merlin, standing there, looking perfectly innocent, holding the rabbit that Bedwyr had pulled from a hat earlier.

"What-?" Bedwyr was clearly at a loss for words. "How did you-? The rabbit-?"

"Brilliant trick," Merlin said, stepping out of the box and handing Bedwyr the rabbit. "You might want to feed him. He was nibbling on my tunic, so I think he's hungry."

Before Bedwyr could take the rabbit from her, Merlin nodded knowingly. "You're right. Best I take him. He's obviously a handful."

Merlin hopped down from the platform and walked over to a little girl who had been looking at the rabbit longingly. Gwaine watched as Merlin gave it her, the little girl's eyes filling with tears as Merlin explained how to hold it, what it ate, and how to care for it. Saying goodbye to the girl and her father (who seemed incredibly grateful since, as it turned out, it was the little girl's birthday, but he had no money to buy her a real present), Merlin headed over to Gwaine, who could feel his grin threatening to split his face in half.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Whenever you are, princess," Gwaine said. Merlin hummed in agreement and took his hand, pulling him away from the murmuring crowd.

"How did you do that, then?" Gwaine asked, once they were a ways away. Gwaine could hear Bedwyr calling another volunteer from the audience, ready to perform the trick again, his pride obviously hurt.

"He just wasn't very good, is all," Merlin shrugged. "I've definitely seen better."

"You like magic, then," Gwaine said.

Merlin's eyes twinkled with unsuppressed mirth. "You could say that."

Gwaine let go of her hand and took a quick step to stand in front of her, his own hand going quickly to his pocket. She stopped short, looking up at him, quickly baffled. "What are you up to now?"

"Nothing, nothing," Gwaine said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was just wondering what was hiding behind your ear."

Gwaine let the pendant he had gotten her earlier drop from his hand, dangling from the chain, which was twined around his fingers. Merlin blinked, reaching behind her ear, and then, realizing what Gwaine must have done, she laughed.

"Gwaine-" Merlin began, about to say something, but then changed her mind. "Where'd you get that?"

"Saw it at a stall, earlier," he said, handing it to her. She looked at it, fingering the design. "Thought it was pretty and figured that you would suit each other."

Merlin's face was downturned, looking at the necklace in her hands, so he couldn't see it, but he could see the tips of her ears turn red, and smirked triumphantly. She looked back up at him and handed him the necklace.

"Help me get it on?" she asked, turning around and lifting her hair up and away from her neck.

Gwaine swallowed- she doesn't know what she's doing, she doesn't know what she's doing- and stepped towards her, and, taking the ends of the necklace and unclasping it, positioned the pendant around her neck. He tried to close it, but the clasp was small and Merlin's proximity was doing funny things to his heartbeat and breathing, and he accidentally jerked a bit too tightly.

He let out a curse, followed by an apologetic, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Merlin said, sounding completely unaffected. "Here. Just let me-"

Merlin took a step backwards, moving herself closer to him, pressing her back to his front. "Better?"

Gwaine had stopped breathing- stopped thinking, really. "Better" wasn't quite the word for it. Merlin was pushing his self-control to its limits. If it had been any other woman, Gwaine would have accused her of doing it on purpose, but this was Merlin, who was so incredibly oblivious to the looks men gave her that there was no way she was doing any of this consciously, which only made her more attractive, in Gwaine's eyes.

It was only years of training with a sword that kept Gwaine's hands from shaking as he once again tried to close the clasp of the necklace, and only the laughter of children that reminded Gwaine that he and Merlin were, as a matter of fact, in a public place.

"It's alright, you know, if you can't do it," Merlin said, as Gwaine fumbled a bit more. "I'm sure you're more used to taking women's jewelry off, than putting it on."

Gwaine was so startled by this proclamation that he started, but apparently this was all that was needed, and the clasp fell into place, the necklace now secure. Merlin stepped away and Gwaine allowed himself to breathe again.

Merlin turned and must have seen an odd expression on his face, because she said, "I was only joking."

Gwaine forced himself to laugh. "I know you were. Now, what do you say to heading over to south end of the town. That's where I hear the acrobats will be."

"Acrobats?" Merlin asked. "Well, why didn't you say so? They're probably much better than some dodgy magician. Let's go!"

As Merlin had predicted, the acrobats were far more interesting than the magician. There were also jugglers, and dancers, and musicians, who, at one point, had their entire audience (including Merlin and Gwaine), dancing.

It wasn't until several hours later that Merlin and Gwaine stumbled home, leaning on each other, not drunk, but tipsy, and exhausted from the night's festivities.

"This was the best night ever," Merlin mumbled. Merlin had had less to drink than Gwaine, but was notorious for not being able to hold her alcohol. Gwaine, on the other hand, still felt perfectly fine, if not a bit lightheaded (although that might have to do with how well the night had gone).

"I thought so, too" Gwaine said, walking her into the home she shared with Gaius. When Gwaine saw that there was nobody there, he asked Merlin, "Where's Gauis?"

"There's a family in town with a grandfather who's sick," Merlin said. "Gaius is spending the night there to make sure he's alright."

"Let's get you to bed then," Gwaine said, leading her up the stairs. Merlin didn't say anything, but gripped his arm tighter and tried to burry her face in his shoulder, humming the song the musicians had played earlier that night.

Gwaine opened her bedroom door and deposited her in her bed (the same bed he had slept in when he first came to Camelot, he noted). Merlin sat up, apparently still somewhat capable of rational thought, and began to try and take off her shoes. She struggled with the laces and Gwaine, trying not to laugh at her, pushed her hands away and did it himself. Merlin leant against the wall and watched him.

"You're a good dancer," she muttered. Gwaine grinned at her and worked on the other shoe.

"That so?"

"Mhm," Merlin nodded sleepily. "Why don't you dance more?"

"Nobody to dance with," Gwaine shrugged, placing both shoes on the floor next to the bed. Merlin huffed slightly as she shuffled to lay down, grabbing her blanket and pulling it around herself.

"You've got me," Merlin muttered. Gwaine stood up and brushed off his hands.

"Do I?" He asked.

"'Course you do," Merlin slurred. "You're m' best friend. Thanks, by the way, for going wi' me today. I had fun hanging out, just you and me, like before. Only without getting into a fight or jumping off buildings. We should do it more- spending time together, I mean, not- not jumping off buildings."

"Y-yes," Gwaine stuttered, "We should."

Merlin smiled and mumbled, "G'night," before finally falling asleep. Gwaine let himself out of her room and shut the door. Then he braced his fist against the wall and hit his head with it, repeatedly.

Gwaine had always thought Merlin to be very smart (it was her, after all, who had realized that Lancelot wasn't really Lancelot when Gwen cheated with him, but rather heavily enchanted by Morgana), but right now he couldn't help but wonder how one girl could be so oblivious.

"...best friend."

"...hanging out..."

"...spending time together..."

Clearly, if Gwaine wanted Merlin to know how he felt about her, he was going to have to kick things up a notch. A necklace and a night at a festival was obviously not enough.

He left, deciding that he needed some sleep, or maybe another drink.

The next morning, when Leon innocently asked Gwaine how his night with Merlin had gone, Gwaine accidentally clobbered him hard over the head with flat of his sword.

Chapter Text

Several days had gone by since that disastrous date, and Gwaine had finally come up with a new plan- sort of. He realized right away that this "romance" business was not something that came naturally to him. If it was, than his night with Merlin would have gone much better. So, Gwaine decided that he needed some help.

Arthur was immediately out. It had taken him over three years to just work up the nerve to even admit his feelings for Gwen to himself, let alone to her. Gwaine didn't have that time.

Gwaine had considered asking Tristan, who had become quite popular with the maids of the castle thanks to his and Isolde's "tragic love story" (their words- not his). Tristan was new to the castle, though, and, although he and Gwaine had gotten on fine the few times they had talked or seen each other down at the tavern, Gwaine honestly did not know the older man well enough to be comfortable to ask for help.

Not that he felt all that comfortable asking for help from the knights, either. No doubt he would be teased without mercy and then, if he was lucky, he might get some decent advice, but it was doubtful.

The only knight that Gwaine knew would neither tease him nor give him bad advice was Lancelot, so it was to Lancelot he went.

He found him in the armory, polishing his armor.

Unlike Arthur, most of the knights polished their own armor. Although Gwaine understood that, as king, Arthur had more jobs and responsibilities than a normal knight, he'd never tell Arthur that to his face and miss the chance to give him a hard time.

"I need your help, my friend" Gwaine finally said, swallowing his pride. Lancelot looked up in surprise.

"Mine?"

Gwaine nodded tersely. Shrugging, and deciding not to comment on his friend's odd behavior, Lancelot threw the rag over his shoulder and stood up. He began to put his armor away and turned to Gwaine.

"I will help in any way I can," he said. "What do you need help with?"

"Merlin," Gwaine said uncomfortably.

Lancelot smirked knowingly. "Ah. Yes, I heard about what happened a few nights ago."

"Who told you?" Gwaine frowned. He hadn't told anybody about what had happened with Merlin, and Merlin hadn't even know what had happened, so there was no chance that she had told anybody.

Lancelot frowned. "You did."

"I did?" Gwaine asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Last night," Lancelot chuckled. "At the tavern. You were drunk and passed out. I had to help you back to your room."

Gwaine glared, hating Lancelot in that moment for being so good and wholesome and noble. Save for the entire Gwen issue (during which he had never done anything wrong, since everything that had happened between them had happened before she and Arthur had acknowledged their feelings for each other and when Gwen cheated on Arthur with him, Lancelot hadn't even been real), Lancelot had been the model knight.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Gwaine asked.

(He did not pout, no matter what Lancelot said).

"Of course," Lancelot assured, placing his arm on Gwaine's shoulder reassuringly. "First thing? Flowers."

"Flowers?"

"Flowers."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gwaine asked, entering the florist shop. It was a small shop, but well lit thanks to the help of several well positioned windows. There were several very pretty arrangements set up strategically around the shop, and many bundles of different sorts of flowers.

"Positive." Lancelot assured. "You gave her the necklace, which was a good start, but nothing says romantic like a lovely bouquet of flowers. Give them to her when you invite her to a picnic later."

The picnic had been Gwaine's idea. On their way to the florist shop, Lancelot had suggested they share a meal and Gwaine, knowing of Merlin's fondness for the outdoors (when they weren't hunting) had immediately suggested a picnic.

Lancelot agreed, but warned, " Wait on her, for a change, instead of the other way around. Treat her as though you view her as an equal."

"But I already view her as an equal," Gwaine said, confused.

"I know," Lancelot said slowly, as though speaking to a particularly dimwitted child. Gwaine didn't particular appreciate his tone, but decided that he better hold his tongue. It wasn't worth the risk of getting Lancelot angry. Then he might not help him.

"However," Lancelot continued, "Merlin is still a servant. She may not mind being one and helping us and coming with us on patrols and cooking our food for us, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still her job. She'll enjoy the break and a reminder that you were her friend before she was your servant. And try to prepare as much of the basket yourself as you can. She'll appreciate any effort you go through on her behalf."

"Even if lunch is rubbish?" Gwaine had asked, knowing that anything he cooked was liable to give them food poisoning. Not quite the romantic lunch he'd had in mind.

Lancelot had nodded. "Even if lunch is rubbish."

Now that they had arrived at the florists, Gwaine couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. "Nobody's here. Maybe we should come back-"

He made to leave the shop, but Lancelot quickly stopped him and turned him back around.

"Nonsense," Lancelot said, clapping him on the back. "I'm sure somebody will be with us in a moment."

Sure enough, at minute later, a tall, blonde, and vaguely familiar girl walked out from the back room, carrying a basket of roses. She blinked when she saw the two of them and then, much to Gwaine's surprise, narrowed her eyes at the site of him.

"You!" she accused, pointing her scissors in his direction, brown eyes narrowed in a glare.

His eyes widened. That reaction from women was never good. Gwaine tried to remember if she had been one of the women he'd -ahem- bedded since he had first arrived in Camelot, but couldn't seem to remember her.

"What did I do?" Gwaine asked defensively.

"You stole one of my flowers," the young woman said certainly, placing her basket on the counter at the front of the show. She began to sort out the roses, stripping them of their stems and placing them in a pile to her left, not once cutting her slightly tanned fingers on the sharp thorns.

Gwaine blinked.

"Did I?"

"You did," the girl affirmed. "You took it right from my basket and tried to give it the pretty, dark-haired girl, but she wouldn't take it."

"That- that was years ago!" Gwaine said. Lancelot laughed at his expression and the girl blushed.

"Yes, well," she muttered. "You were making quite a fool of yourself."

"And it didn't even work," Gwaine said petulantly, not liking being so blatantly laughed at.

"That's why we're here," Lancelot supplied, finally stepping forward. The girl blushed again at seeing him (Lancelot had quite an effect on women, noticed Gwaine) and then nodded, clearly delighted.

"I am Sir Lancelot and this is my good friend, Sir Gwaine."

"Tegan," she said politely. "And you want flowers for the girl?"

"They didn't work so well last time around," Lancelot teased. Gwaine tried to hit him, but Lancelot was too fast for him. Gwaine didn't concern himself with it too much. He'd get his revenge another time. "We decided that two time's the charm."

"Oh! That's so sweet!" Tegan exclaimed, clapping excitedly. "She's very lucky! And I think I have just the thing!"

Tegan disappeared in the back room for another minute, giving Gwaine a chance to nudge Lancelot and say, "She seems to like you."

Lancelot blushed (he was probably the only knight who knew how, if Gwaine were honest with himself). Before he could say anything, Tegan returned holding a small bouquet of flowers, held together by a simple piece of twine. The bouquet consisted of the same small, white flowers he had given Merlin, along with flowers that Gwaine recognized immediately as lilies (his mother used to love putting them around the house).

She handed it to Gwaine, but he hesitated in taking it. Tegan frowned self-consciously. "Don't you like them?"

"No, they're lovely," he assured, reaching out, but once again hesitating. "It's just the moment I take these, my reputation is ruined."

"But Merlin will love them," Lancelot coaxed. Gwaine screwed his face up in determination and, in a great burst of strength, took the bouquet. Lancelot and Tegan applauded him and Gwaine handed Tegan the money he owed her.

"This is too much," she said, trying to hand him some back, but he waved her away.

"To repay you, for the flower I stole from you," he said simply. Tegan laughed and, if Gwaine hadn't been looking, he would have missed the slightly doe-eyed look that crossed Lancelot's face. It was broken by a light thump as the door to the shop opened and a little boy- no older than eleven- came running into the shop.

"Ollie!" Tegan scolded, blushing. "Behave! We have patrons!" She turned back to the knights. "I apologize for my little brother."

Lancelot just smiled in that way of his, that made everybody feel incredibly at ease. "It's perfectly all right."

Ollie turned to them and sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Lancelot smiled directly at him and Ollie's eyes widened, taking in their swords, and said, "You're knights!"

"Indeed we are," Gwaine said. The boy reminded him of his own little brother, or at least his little brother when Gwaine had left home. Gwaine rarely dwelled on those thoughts, though. When he did, he usually ended up at the tavern, more drunk than usual. "I am Sir Gwaine and this is Sir Lancelot."

Gwaine's name didn't seem to affect Ollie at all, but Lancelot's name did. Ollie squeaked and ran behind the counter at the front of the shop, hiding behind his sister's legs. Lancelot looked shocked as Tegan giggled nervously. "I'm sorry," she said. "Ollie- Well, Ollie is a huge fan of yours, I suppose."

Lancelot didn't really know what to say to that. Tegan, taking it as a negative reaction, quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry! I-"

"No, it's fine," Lancelot said, walking behind the counter and, from what Gwaine could see, kneeling down. He smiled at Ollie. "Hello, again, Ollie."

Gwaine decided that now would be the time to go. "I'll leave you to it then, my friend."

"Good luck with Merlin," Lancelot offered.

"Good luck with your admirer." Gwaine offered back.

"Oh, I'm sure Ollie and I will get along splendidly." Lancelot said, taking the little boy's hand and shaking it. Gwaine snorted as he stepped out of the shop.

"I wasn't talking about Ollie," Gwaine laughed. As the door closed behind him, Gwaine could barely make out Lancelot's indignant sputter's.

This is going to be a brilliant day.

It most certainly is not, Merlin scowled, scrubbing the floor more furiously. She looked up, glowering at Arthur, who was currently looking over some paperwork and waiting for Gwen to arrive for lunch.

He felt her eyes on him and looked up to the meet them. Arthur smirked, seeing the expression on her face. "Enjoying yourself, Merlin?"

"Oh yes, sire," Merlin said, completely serious. Arthur was taken aback. He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him, looking at Merlin curiously.

"Why's that?" He asked. "This is supposed to be a punishment, after all."

"Oh, I know," Merlin said, blowing some hair out of her face. She was constantly doing that- she really needed to invest in a ribbon of some sort. Merlin grinned at Arthur. "But if I wasn't doing this, I'd have to be mucking out the stables."

"You'll be doing that later, don't worry," Arthur told her simply, watching Merlin's expression fall. Merlin didn't say anything and instead went back to focusing on her cloth and bucket, remembering a time a few years ago when Arthur had put the bucket over her head. As awful as that had been, it wasn't nearly as bad as this.

A few days ago, after her night with Gwaine, Merlin had woken up with one of the worsts headaches she had ever had. Needless to say, when she had finally made it downstairs for breakfast, Gaius had informed her that it was, in fact, lunch. Merlin had wasted no time running to try and get Arthur his lunch (forgoing her own in the process), but Arthur hadn't been too happy with her.

Still, Arthur might have forgiven her, but she must have still been feeling the after effects of the alcohol, because she continued to drop things, forget things, and bump into things for the rest of the day- more so than usual. When she fell asleep while polishing his armor, Arthur had taken it as the last straw.

For the past few days, he had been giving her harder and longer and generally more jobs to do.

"To keep you out of the tavern," Arthur had said bluntly, "Or away from Gwaine. He's corrupting my servant and I can't have that."

Merlin dipped her rag back into the bucket and winced. Hopefully Arthur hadn't been too mad at Gwaine for making her late. He was just trying to be nice.

And he had been.

It was great to finally spend some time together. It wasn't often that they got to. He had also gotten a necklace for her, which she wore even now.

Merlin didn't know why he had suddenly decided to be so kind, but she wasn't going to question it. Although she got along with all of the knights, they didn't often spend much time with her outside of official business, except maybe for Lancelot, but even then, he was often incredibly busy. Gwen, Merlin's only real female friend since Morgana had gone off the deep end, was now getting used to being Queen, so Merlin saw less of her than ever.

In all honesty, Merlin had been getting a bit lonely when Gwaine had invited her to the festival. After everything with Morgana and the siege of Camelot and the ensuing chaos, Merlin needed a break from destiny and doom and fate. Gwaine, a festival, and drinking had been perfect (not that Merlin usually did that sort of thing).

Giving the little girl her rabbit and tricking the magician- Bedwyr, his name was?- had been icing on the cake. A bit of magic on her end (if Gaius knew, he would have given her that look) had made the pompous magician look like a real clotpole, although not as much as Arthur made himself look on a daily basis, and made it all worth it.

The creak of the door alerted Merlin to the fact that Gwen had arrived for lunch. Merlin put her rag in her bucket and stood up, knowing that she'd have to make a dash to the kitchen to get her and Arthur their food. Arthur got up from his desk, wearing the same goofy smile he always wore when Guinevere was within a few feet of him.

"Guinevere!" He said. "Perfect timing! Merlin was just about to go to the kitchens and get us some lunch."

Merlin gave Arthur a baffled look, although she had known full well that she needed to get the royal couple some food. "I was?"

Arthur's smile became fixed and he gave her a frustrated look. He yanked the bucket from her hands and placed it on the floor, in the corner.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said, giving her a light (for him) thwack over the head. Merlin reached up to rub it, casting him a sour look as Gwen finally came into view, closing the door with her hip, her hands full with a tray in her hand.

"Oh, there's no need," Gwen said, with a smile in Merlin's direction. "I stopped by the kitchens and got it for us. You've been working Merlin too hard. You need to give her a bit of a break before she exhausts herself.

"Thank you, my lady," Merlin said, with an over-exaggerated bow. "You should listen to her, sire. I need a break."

"Do you, Merlin?" Arthur asked with a sigh, clearly doubting her, as he sat down. Merlin nodded and took the tray from Gwen, giving her a nod to indicate that she should sit down and let Merlin set the table. Merlin didn't mind doing things for her friends, as long as they were polite about it and said thank you, or were more than ready to do the same for her. She didn't even mind doing things for Arthur, ungrateful prat that he was, but did wish he'd be a bit more appreciative sometimes.

"Indeed, I do," Merlin agreed, as though Arthur's question hadn't been completely sarcastic. "And a raise would be nice, too."

"A raise?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. Why?" Merlin asked. "Don't you think I deserve one? I've been working for you for over five years now."

"Well, generally, Merlin, we only give raises to workers who actually do their job, and do it well. Not workers who go missing for hours on end, worrying their friends, as they skive off at the tavern."

Merlin grinned broadly as she finished setting up the food, uncovering the trays with a flourish, making Gwen laugh. "Are you saying you worry about me?"

"Of course I do," Arthur said, with such an incredibly brutal honesty that Merlin was blown away- until he opened his mouth again. "As useless as you are, I've spent an incredible amount of time training you. I need to protect my investment."

Merlin smiled tightly and poured water for them. Arthur eyed her oddly, taking a sip of her water and staring at her chest. If it had been anybody else, Merlin would have dumped her water on them, but since it was Arthur, and he was so hopelessly in love with Gwen to even think about looking at other women, least of all Merlin, for goodness's sake, she refrained.

Before she could open her mouth to make some sort of witty comment (alright, so she hadn't exactly thought of one yet, but her mouth had yet to fail her, so she doubted that it would start now), Arthur gestured with his cup. "Clearly, you're already making enough money, if you can afford that necklace."

Merlin's hand went to the small pendant on her neck and she shook her head. "Actually, it was a present from Gwaine, during the fair a few nights ago."

"Jewelry on a first date?" Arthur hm'ed thoughtfully. "His affections for you must be stronger than I thought.

Merlin stuttered. "It wasn't- we didn't- Gwaine is my friend."

"A friend who has been trying to pursue you romantically -gods know why- for quite some time. It's your own fault for being too thick to see it."

"No," Merlin shook her head, feeling the heat in her face grow. "You've got this wrong, what you're saying. Wait- what are you saying? Are you saying- me and Gwaine- what?"

"Merlin," Gwen began, ready to explain, but Arthur held his hand up to stop her, the grin on his face clearly indicating how much he was enjoying this.

"Wait just a moment," he muttered to her, watching Merlin try to work out what they were trying to say. "Let's see how long it takes her to work it out for herself."

Gwen rolled her eyes and slapped his hand down. "Merlin, Gwaine intended to ask you out on a date, that night."

Arthur sat back in chair, slumping backwards. Placing his feet on the table and leaning back, he raised his hands in mock frustration. "And now, we'll never know."

Merlin, however, was too busy taking in Gwen's words. It made sense, in retrospect, Merlin admitted hesitantly. He had been oddly nice to her that night. As a matter of fact, he had been treating her rather oddly in general since that night with the Cailleach. First not wanting to spend any time with her, then seeking her out to help with her chores.

And the kiss in the tavern-

Merlin felt her face heat up at the thought.

Gwen smiled sympathetically. "Will you be alright, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded slowly. She liked Gwaine, after all. He was one of her best friends, one of the few people who had always treated her as an equal, right from the beginning. It might take some time to get used to the idea of entering into some sort of romantic relationship with him, but the idea wasn't a repulsive one. He was a good looking man, after all-

Merlin's face was in danger of exploding after that thought and Arthur, no doubt guessing what direction her mind had taken her in, took a bite of chicken and laughed satisfactorily at his maidservant's embarrassment.

This is going to be a brilliant day.

Chapter Text

Merlin was walking down the hall after mucking out Arthur's stables when Gwaine found her. Her eyes widened when she heard him call, "Merlin!"

Biting her lip, she turned around. He was walking towards her purposefully, carrying- flowers. Gwaine, drunk Gwaine, never-gives-a-rat's-hat Gwaine, love 'em and leave 'em Gwaine had bought flowers.

Merlin could feel the blush already.

When Gwaine stopped in front of her, she could see that he was almost as nervous as she was. However, he did stop to take her in for a moment, and she could only imagine the sight she must be: clothes a mess, hair rumpled, and covered in a mixture of hay, water, muck, and dung. Not really how she had pictured this situation.

He cleared his throat. "Arthur still working you hard, then?"

"Punishment," Merlin said with a roll of her eyes. Insulting Arthur. Comfortable ground for them both. "For missing his breakfast a few days ago and showing up hungover."

"Sorry about that," Gwaine said awkwardly, scratching his head.

"No!" Merlin said sharply, startling them both. She wiped her hands on her breeches (she really should try wearing dresses more, but they were hardly practical for doing Arthur's chores, and incredibly uncomfortable). But because her breeches were as dirty as the rest of her, all this really did was spread the dirt around. She grimaced.

"I just meant," she said, uncharacteristically nervous, "That it's not your fault. And I had fun. So Arthur can just shove off."

Gwaine chuckled and looked nervously at his hands. Seeming to realize that he held flowers for the first time, he held them out to her. "For you."

Merlin took them carefully, trying to avoid getting any dirt on the white petals. She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice when she said, "They're lovely!"

"But?" Gwaine prodded.

"Did you pick them out yourself?" Merlin asked, in a tone of voice that clearly stated that she thought he didn't. Gwaine may have been a man of many talents, she rationalized, but trying to picture him buying flowers was something she couldn't really do.

"It was Lancelot's idea," Gwaine admitted, and Merlin, who had been delicately sniffing the flowers, snorted.

"Of course," she sighed happily. Gwaine, apparently deciding that things were going well, took a deep breath.

"Are you free for lunch tomorrow?" he asked her. Merlin looked up at him in surprise, almost dropping the flowers. She had seen Gwaine flirt with countless women- he was usually much smoother. His abruptness and nervousness unsettled her.

"I think so," Merlin said slowly. "I'd probably have to clear it with Arthur."

"Oh, leave him to me," Gwaine smirked. Merlin still looked at him, confusedly. After a moment, she asked, "Why did you want to know my plans for lunch?"

"Oh!" Gwaine said, and Merlin almost giggled. "I was- well- I know how much you enjoy the outdoors, and considering how fair the weather has been, I thought you might want to partake in a picnic. With me. Tomorrow."

"Sounds lovely," Merlin said cheerfully and without hesitation. "Sorry, but I should go get cleaned off before I stink up the castle. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Yes," Gwaine nodded, before calling Merlin back. "No- wait!"

Merlin turned around, already having walked a few feet. She raised her eyebrows, not really sure what he wanted. "Yes?"

"You realize that this is a date, don't you, Merlin?" Gwaine asked. He seemed to have regained his composure, and was smirking leisurely, but Merlin had spent enough time with him to know that this was his I'm-nervous-and-frightened-but-don't-want-you-to-know-it-smirk, not his I'm-perfectly-content-and-confident-and-maybe-a-little-bit-hungry-smirk.

Deciding not to let onto the fact that, despite Arthur's and Gwen's assurances, no, Merlin hadn't actually been sure, Merlin rolled her eyes and walked quickly up to him. She was sure now. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and squeezed his hand.

As she left, Merlin called over her shoulder, "Of course I do! I'm not that thick!"

When she rounded the corner, she caught a brief glimpse of Gwaine, who was smiling happily, blissfully unaware of the small bit of manure on his cheek.

It didn't take long for Merlin's good mood to fade. The longer and longer she thought about what she had to agreed to, the worse she felt.

It wasn't that she regretted her decision to go on the picnic with Gwaine.

She didn't.

Merlin just felt so guilty.

Gwaine was her best friend, and he told her everything. In turn, she tried to do the same, but there was one big secret that she had yet to reveal to him: her magic. It made things hard, with Gwaine, sometimes, when he was so open with her (surprisingly so, it turned out), and she couldn't always reciprocate because her magic continued to get in the way.

So much of her existence was centered around her magic. Her destiny. And Merlin couldn't tell him. Because of that, with Gwaine, Merlin missed much of the freedom she had when talking with somebody, like, say, Lancelot, who knew about her magic.

Merlin had considered telling Gwaine about her magic so many times it was ridiculous, but something always seemed to come up.

It just wasn't fair, to him or her.

She was hiding a major part of her life from him, the one thing that made her who she was, the thing that, when she was feeling down or sad or generally annoyed at being a servant and having people always treating her like an idiot, reminded her that her time would come.

One day, a time would come when magic was free in Camelot, and Albion was at peace, and she could serve and protect Arthur without having to hide herself from everybody.

It was that thought that gave Merlin the strength to keep her secret from Gwaine in the beginning. The thought that, no matter what, nothing was going to get in the way of that dream, not even her best friend, especially not when she had no real way of knowing how Gwaine would react.

Even after she had gotten to know him better, she had held onto that thought like a lifeline, even though her grip grew more and more weak.

And now...

Gwaine had clearly decided that their level of friendship and trust and intimacy meant that it was time for them to try taking their relationship in a new direction.

Merlin knew that Gwaine didn't usually make those sort of decisions concerning women (Merlin had never met a woman who had kept Gwaine occupied for more than a week), which meant that, for whatever reasons, he had decided that she was special enough to make an exception.

The thought sickened her, now, because, even though he had always been honest with her, she couldn't say the same towards him.

The most obvious (and really only) solution to the problem was simply telling Gwaine her secret, but this solution had the unpleasant consequence of having to deal with his reaction, which may not be good, for a number of reasons.

But keeping her secret was tearing her up inside.

And so the debate continued, for the rest of the day. As she went about the rest of her chores, Merlin wrestled with the issue constantly. Some of it must have shown on her face because, when she finally arrived home (excited for dinner and eager for some sleep), she found not only Gaius waiting for her, but Lancelot.

He rose from the bench when he saw her.

"Lancelot?" she asked, greeting him with a quick hug before sitting down. He followed. "What are you doing here? It's late."

"I know," Lancelot said nodding, before taking a sip of his water, which Gaius had no doubt given him. "But you looked troubled all day and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," Merlin said, unconvincingly. "Just- peachy."

"Merlin," Lancelot said firmly.

"It's Gwaine," she admitted, sitting down. Gaius looked up from the tonic he was making, but otherwise said nothing. Lancelot shook his head.

"You shouldn't be worrying about a thing like that," Lancelot said. "If you wanted to tell him no, you could've. He's a big boy. One girl's rejection won't keep him down for long- even if it was you."

Merlin was already denying it. "No! No, nothing- nothing like that."

She stopped not really sure how to go about explaining this. Finally, she said, "I just feel so guilty, keeping things from him. I mean, I always did, but it's worse now that he's- you know."

"Made his feelings for you more obvious," Lancelot suggested. Merlin nodded. Lancelot added, "And now that you seem to have decided that you reciprocate those feelings."

Merlin nodded, gnawing at her lip so hard that she worried that she would soon taste blood. Lancelot tapped her cheek lightly, to get her to stop. She did, but instead brought one of her hands up to bite her nails.

After a moment, Lancelot leaned forward and captured her hands in his, pulling them down and squeezing reassuringly. "You've known Gwaine for years, Merlin. Do you honestly believe that he would hold your magic against you?"

"No," Merlin said after a moment. "Not really. But it's not just that. What if he's okay with my magic, but hates me for keeping the secret? And is it fair to have him have to keep the secret, too? I already hate that you and Gaius know. It puts you in danger everyday, and could I really do that to him? I mean-? I can't- I don't-! Gaius," Merlin implored, turning to the only father figure she really had in her life. "Tell me what to do."

"I can't help you here, Merlin," Gaius, who had been listening intently and who had obviously figured out the gist of the situation, said apologetically. "This is for you to decide. I can tell you only this: from what I have seen, Gwaine would go to the ends of the Earth for you, and that would include happily keeping your secret, from what I can see. Do not feel guilty about telling him, that's for certain."

Lancelot nodded. "Do not feel guilty about Gaius or myself, either, my friend. I think I speak for us both when I say that we are honored to be there for you in anyway we can. If Gwaine wouldn't feel the same, then I clearly don't know him as well as I thought did, and neither do you."

Merlin was quiet for a few minutes, just mulling it over, going over the same points she had considered, but thinking about what Lancelot and Gaius had said.

With the matter of her guilt over revealing her secret to him resolved, it didn't take her long to come to a decision.

Merlin stood up abruptly, startling both Gaius and Lancelot.

She nodded in their direction. "I'm going to tell him."

"Good!" Lancelot said.

Gaius frowned, though. "Now, Merlin? At this hour?"

"Yes, now," Merlin agreed. "It's not that late, especially not for Gwaine. He would have just gotten to his room for the tavern, which means he's drunk, so he'll be in a better mood, and maybe he'll take it better."

"Merlin," Lancelot cautioned, "Maybe you should wait until tomorrow. I don't think-"

"It's got to be now," Merlin denied, shaking her head. "I need to do it now before I lose my nerve. Excuse me."

When the door closed, Lancelot sighed and looked to Gaius, who had his eyebrow raised in concern. "This could go either really poorly, or really well."

"Indeed," Gaius muttered. "Let us hope for the latter."

Merlin, who was walking down the castle corridor to Gwaine's chambers, was convinced that it was going to go well. Really well. Splendidly.

At least, that's what she told herself. She had to tell herself that, if she were honest. Merlin didn't really want to imagine what would happen if Gwaine took the news badly. If he decided that magic made her immediately evil and turned her into Arthur (oh gods, Arthur's reaction- would he burn her at the stake, or execute her, or exile her, or...). Or, what if Gwaine decided that her magic was alright, but was angry that she had kept her secret for so long? What if he didn't understand that the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world was to see her kind able to live without fear, and that achieving that dream meant she couldn't afford mistakes and that she had to be cautious?

What if he decided that he hated her?

No.

No.

That's not what was going to happen. Gwaine was going to be alright with it all. Shocked, perhaps, a bit confused, maybe. Drunk? Fairly certain. Still, he was going to understand why she kept her secret from so long, and then he was going to tell her that she could answer all his questions at their picnic, and she would, and he would happy, and curious, and they would have a good time and then-

Merlin shook her head.

For some strange reason, this train of thought was not helping either.

Merlin finally reached Gwaine's door and, after psyching herself up, nodded and knocked. She waited a moment, but heard no response from inside, other than some shuffling.

She pressed her ear to the door and knocked again, louder this time. She called, "Gwaine? Are you in there?"

Again, more shuffling.

Frowning now, Merlin opened the door a peak and looked inside. Gwaine was there, obviously getting ready for bed, his back turned to her. He pulled back the covers on the bed and then peeled off his tunic.

Merlin's voice died in her throat.

It wasn't until that Gwaine went to undo his breeches that Merlin (now blushing so red that she was incredibly thankful that Arthur couldn't see) finally found her voice again.

"Gwaine?" she squeaked.

He turned to look at her, finally noticing her presence. He smiled at her. "Merlin!"

Gwaine had a nice smile, Merlin noted. She had been noting a lot of things about Gwaine all day, as a matter of fact. Like, that his smile wasn't the only thing nice about him, he also had nice hair (although that one was harder to miss, since he was constantly flipping it and running his fingers through it) and a nice bum (Merlin had blanched the first time that thought had crept into her head, it was so foreign), and, during training, how well he handled a sword, and how strong he was-

A fact that was very evident right now.

Merlin focused on her goal in coming here.

Focus.

But he's so pretty-

Focus.

"I need to talk to you, if that's alright," Merlin said.

Gwaine shrugged and hopped onto the bed, stretching out languidly. "I always have time for you, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, looking anywhere but him. "Good, good, I'll just- I'll just sit down, then."

Merlin sat down in a chair and fiddled with her neckerchief for a minute, letting an uncomfortable silence fall over the room.

Finally she said, "Gwaine, listen, you-"

"Merlin?" asked Gwaine. Merlin raised an eyebrow to show that she was listening, but otherwise made no attempt to lift her head. Teasingly, Gwaine said, "If you're going to interrupt my beauty sleep to talk to me, the least you could do is look me in the eye while you speak, don't you think?"

Merlin looked up to glare at him, but forgot that that was in direct opposition of her plan to look at anything but him. She blushed and Gwaine laughed at her. "You're more than free to join me. That chair looks mighty uncomfortable."

Merlin glared at him more. How much had he had to drink tonight? She wondered, but then brushed it off. "I'm fine, thank you. But I have to tell you something important."

"I'm all ears, princess," Gwaine smiled.

Merlin nodded. "I have magic."

Merlin had decided, on her way over, that it would be best to be blunt and to the point and to get everything out at once.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. At first it was because I didn't know you, and I really don't want to be burnt at the stake, but then, after we became friends, I was worried that you would be angry with me for keeping it from you, and a good time to tell you just never came up, but I decided that, what with the picnic and all, I needed to tell you soon. Or now. Please say something now so I can stop talking."

Gwaine just blinked several times and Merlin could see the gears in his head turning as he worked to figure out what she meant, and went through all of the times where some stroke of good fortune had befallen him and the knights: flying plates, the fire during his and Arthur's duel, tree branches falling on bandits, and so on.

"That explains a lot," Gwaine said after a moment. "I mean, no offense, but you aren't very subtle, mate, looking back."

"Well, they say hindsight is twenty-twenty," Merlin said drily. "And when working with Arthur, I don't need to be subtle. I could announce to a conference room that I have magic and they'd just laugh in my face."

"You didn't?" Gwaine smirked. Merlin grinned sheepishly and Gwaine snorted.

"So- you're okay with it, then?" Merlin asked. Honestly, he was taking this all very well.

"'Course I am," Gwaine told her. "You have magic. Good on you!"

Merlin nodded. "Great, alright. Thanks? I mean, I'll just let you get back to your, ah, beauty sleep, then."

Gwaine smiled gratefully as Merlin left, a similar smile on her face. When she made it back to Gaius's, her smile told him and Lancelot all they needed to know.

Lancelot simply got up and clapped her on the back as he left. Merlin shot a smug look at Gaius before heading upstairs to get ready for bed.

It was going to be an early day.

Sure enough, Merlin was up just as the sun rose, and, quietly, as to not wake Gaius, she left the house and want to get Arthur's and Gwen's breakfasts. It had been awkward at first, waking up her two, now married (which implied certain activities that Merlin really rather not know about), best friends, but they had come up with a system.

Merlin would get the food and bring it to their room, as she did when she had served Arthur alone. Now, however, instead of waking Arthur up in the most obnoxious way possible, she would gently nudge Gwen awake, first. Once Gwen was awake, Merlin would help her get dressed if need be (the first time Merlin had walked in to find both of her friends asleep unclothed, she had dropped the food in surprise and ran out the room shock, unable to look at either of them in the eye for the rest of the day).

Gwen would decide whether or not she wanted to wake Arthur, or if she wanted Merlin to do it (something that usually happened when Gwen decided Arthur had been particularly prat-like the day before), and then the king and queen would settle down for breakfast, while Merlin watched to serve them.

Merlin opened the door to Arthur's chambers, expecting to see he and Gwen still asleep, but to her surprise, they were both awake, and they themselves looked surprised to see her.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked. He sounded oddly accusing.

"I brought breakfast," Merlin said weakly.

"You have the day off," Arthur said. Merlin's jaw dropped. Arthur never gave her the entire day off. Maybe a morning or afternoon, but never the entire day.

"I do?" Merlin asked. Judging by Gwen's smile, Merlin guessed that she had something to do with it.

"Yes, Merlin, you do," Gwen assured. "Go get ready for your picnic with Gwaine."

"Get ready?" Merlin asked blankly, placing the extra plate of food on the table. She looked down at what she wore: her red shirt and blue neckerchief, her normal pair of trousers, boots, belt, and jacket. Comfortable, practical, and perfectly suited to running from bandits, witches, or other magical creatures.

"You don't plan on going like that, do you?" Arthur said far too innocently. Gwen shot him a look, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Don't listen to him, Merlin," Gwen said quickly. "You look lovely."

But the damage had been done.

Merlin was not self-conscious by any means, nor did she often pay much mind to her appearances. Merlin could look in the mirror and be perfectly fine with what she saw: she knew that messy black hair, bright blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass , and full lips would have been considered beautiful (look at Morgana, Merlin thought), had it not been for her large ears, incredibly diminutive size, and overall scrawniness.

Still, having magic meant that, unlike the girls in the village who had spent their time on clothing and cosmetics, Merlin focused on not being burnt at the stake. Having a boy as a best friend meant that she wasn't afraid to get dirty, and often chose clothing for their practicality, not beauty.

Merlin new she would never have Morgana's striking looks or Gwen's gentle prettiness, but Merlin was fine with that. She had usually been too busy with her destiny to really pay any mind, and she never had a real reason to care.

Until now.

Merlin's eyes were wide as she remembered some of the women she had seen Gwaine with. Obviously, Merlin knew , if he had taken the initiative in asking her out, than he had no objection to how she dressed or looked, but that didn't mean she couldn't make some sort of effort, right?

"Merlin, don't worry about it," Gwen tried again. "Really, Gwaine likes-"

"Yea, Gwen," Merlin assured. "I know: 'you for who you are.' 'Inner beauty is more important.'"

"Which explains a lot," Arthur said under his breath. Merlin heard him and shot him a slightly hurt (and incredibly annoyed) look as she left the room, closing the door behind her, perhaps with a bit more force than she should have.

When Merlin made it to her room, though, she realized that there was something she hadn't really considered: she had no clothes.

Or rather, no clothes other than her normal outfits.

Well, she also had the two dresses. She held each of them in one hand to examine them, nose wrinkled in concentration.

The first was a lovely pale pink gown with black lace overlay that Morgana had given her as a gift to wear to the formal banquets that were often held at Camelot. Merlin never had a chance to wear it, though (although she would often pull it out to stare at it, it was so pretty). It hadn't taken long for Merlin to convince Arthur to let her wear her normal clothing to the banquets (mainly after he realized how often thing went wrong at those banquets, and that putting Merlin, who was clumsy enough on her own, in fancy dresses with long hems was just asking for disaster).

The second dress was a deep purple and much more simple and suited to her tastes, although Merlin hadn't worn it, either. Gwen had given it to her. She had apparently gotten it from a friend only days before Merlin had arrived in town. It was too small for Gwen, but fit Merlin perfectly.

It was this dress that Merlin was wearing when Gaius walked in, wondering what all the noise was about. His jaw dropped when he saw the state of the room: clothes strewn everywhere, Merlin standing in the center of it all, looking completely helpless.

"Merlin?" he questioned.

She turned to look at him, eyes wide. "Gaius! Help me! I don't know what to wear!"

Gaius opened and closed his mouth, not really sure where to begin. "This is hardly my area of expertise, Merlin."

Merlin huffed in frustration and stomped her foot childishly. Then she twirled. "Is this too much?"

Gaius shook his head, still dumbfounded, but finally said, "You look lovely."

Apparently, this was the right thing to say, since Merlin grinned gratefully at him. He nodded, satisfied, and then gestured to the mess. "Now, clean this up, brush your hair, and come downstairs-"

"My hair!" Merlin shrieked, before flying promptly into another tizzy.

Gaius just watched her affectionately, chuckling to himself. Between her power and her responsibilities and the incredible role she had in Albion's destiny, sometimes it was far too easy to forget that Merlin really was just like any other young woman.

Gaius watched with a raised eyebrow as Merlin bid a ribbon braid itself through her hair with nothing more than a muttered word and gold flash of her eyes.

Well, maybe not quite like any other young woman.

Chapter Text

When Gwaine woke up, the second thing he realized was that he didn't remember a thing from the night before. But that was only after he noticed his incredibly sharp headache. He reached his mind back to the day before, trying to recall what had happened.

He remembered buying flowers and giving them to Merlin.

Then he had gone to training, where he had asked Arthur if Merlin could have the afternoon off, so she could have lunch with him.

That had certainly been interesting.

He picked up his sword, ready to train with Arthur, but held up his hand before Arthur could start.

"You're not backing out on me, are you, Gwaine?" Arthur goaded.

Gwaine snorted. "Never. I'm just letting you know that Merlin'll be taking the afternoon off tomorrow for lunch."

That was as close to asking permission as Gwaine would ever come.

Arthur didn't answered him immediately. Instead, he came at Gwaine with a sword, his surprise advantage allowing him to unbalance Gwaine and topple him to the ground. As Gwaine looked up at Arthur, who was holding his sword at his throat, Arthur smiled.

"Of course she can," he said. "But let me make myself perfectly clear."

Here he squatted, so that he could look Gwaine in the eye, and lowered his voice. "You may be a knight, and my friend- sometimes. However, if you harm Merlin in any way, I will not hesitate to feed you to the others."

Gwaine looked at the Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot. Percival flexed his arms subtly, Elyan fiddled with his mace, and Lancelot finished sharpening his sword. Gwaine smiled wryly and waved at them.

The next thing he knew he was being hauled up by his shirt front to stand in front of Arthur, who looked oddly contemplative. "Or maybe my wife. It'll be up to you."

Gwaine shuddered, knowing that he'd take the knights any time. There was nothing worse than an angry Guinevere.

Gwaine snorted to himself as he pulled on his clothes. He had been surprised by Arthur's display, but looking back, he really shouldn't have been. Not that Arthur would ever admit it, but he knew what he and Merlin were good friends, and that she was also incredibly close to the rest of the knights.

The only thing that Gwaine should have been surprised about is that Arthur chose to confront him in such a public place.

Still, he didn't really remember what had happened after that. He remembered dinner, then, talking to Lancelot about Ollie...

Ah, that was it.

Gwaine now remembered talking to Lancelot about Ollie and then, having been reminded far too much of his own little brother, he had headed off to the tavern.

There was a funny thing about himself that Gwaine had learnt early on: once he drank past a certain amount (and really, it was quite the amount), Gwaine began acting less drunk and more sober. It was a startling effect, Elyan had once told him

"At one point you're the most drunk man I've ever seen," his friend had snorted, "Then, a few drinks later, you're acting perfectly normal, almost sane."

It wasn't often that Gwaine let himself get to that point, though. Contrary to popular opinion, he wasn't a complete idiot. He loved his drink, but he had seen enough men die from blood-alcohol poisoning to know his limit, and that was it. Still, he had been desperate to drown his memories last night, and it seemed to have worked. He barely remembered making it back to his room-

And Merlin had been there-?

And then going to sleep.

Shaking his thoughts away, and now dressed, Gwaine headed for the kitchens. He had a lunch to prepare- alright, so he hadn't exactly asked Arthur for the morning off, but he doubted he would mind. Even if he did, there honestly wasn't anything he could do about it, Gwaine smirked.

It took him several hours and plenty of help from the cooks and, alright, maybe he cheated a bit and stole dessert, but he doubted Merlin would mind too much.

Or, at least, she'd mind it less than if he were late.

Which he almost was.

He had to run to Gaius's quarters. Thankfully, when he got there, knocked, and poked his head inside, he found only Gaius there, working on something or other.

"Hello, Gaius," Gwaine said, stepping inside.

Gaius looked up and nodded, wiping his hands. "Ah, Gwaine. Hello. Merlin will be down in a moment. She's just getting ready."

Gwaine raised his eyebrows at this (it wasn't like Merlin to pay too much attention to what she wore, but he dropped it, because, not that he'd ever admit, he'd taken a bit of time to pick out his clothes this morning, too). "That's fine. I'll wait."

He set the picnic basket down and sat down in one of the chairs. He and Gaius waited in a comfortable silence, Gwaine watching Gaius's every move, not really having much else to occupy his time.

Gaius broke the silence. "Would you mind passing me the small blue bottle over on the counter."

Gaius gestured to a small counter to his right, so Gwaine got up. He quickly found the bottle Gaius meant: small and blue, it was labeled "Aconite."

He gave it to Gaius and asked, "What is that?"

"It's called Aconite," Gaius said innocently. "Wolfsbane, to some. It's perhaps the most deadly poison I own."

Gwaine self-consciously wiped his hands on his trousers. The last thing he needed was for some of the poison to get on the picnic food. Dying wasn't really a suitable activity for a first date- or any date, really.

"And you're using it to-?" Gwaine asked hesitantly.

"When used correctly, it can be used as a sedative or pain reliever," Gaius told him. "I am very careful with my supply, obviously."

"Of course," Gwaine said quickly, as Gaius walked past him to put the bottle away.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "If something were to happen to Merlin, on the other hand-"

Gwaine frowned, not really liking the idea of anything happening to Merlin. "What do you mean?"

"If she were to be hurt or get sick or, I don't know, have her heart broken, I would be grief stricken," Gaius said easily. Gwaine grimaced, knowing immediately where this was going. "It would be perfectly understandable if I were to lose track of some of the poison. It would be a most unfortunate situation, if the Aconite were to end up in somebody's dinner, but Arthur is a most understanding king, don't you agree?"

"Indeed," Gwaine said weakly.

Gaius nodded. "I'm sure he'd understand- even if it wound up in the places of one of his Knights of the Round Table. Do you understand, my boy?"

"Safe to say I do," Gwaine sighed. He decided that Gaius was very scary, when he wanted to be, and wondered whether or not he had taught Merlin any of the things he knew. She wasn't going to threaten him with poison, too, was she?

"Gwaine! You're here!" Merlin exclaimed, coming down the stairs. Gwaine let out a huge sigh in relief. He didn't think he'd ever been more glad to see her.

Then he turned around and actually saw her.

Gwaine could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Merlin in a dress and still have five fingers left over, so he thought that he was allowed to be surprised, but it was more than that. The deep purple color of the dress did something for her: it made her hair darker, her skin softer, and her eyes brighter.

She had pulled her hair back, too, something she rarely did, and, when combined with the dress, it brought emphasis to her (lovely) face and long neck and her ears- Gwaine loved her ears, for some strange reason. The dress revealed her figure, which was normally hidden by loose tunics and trousers she wore (not that Gwaine was complaining- Merlin wouldn't be Merlin without them), and was cinched in the middle, showing off a positively tiny waist. Without the neckerchief (Gwaine had never seen her without one), the low neckline of the dress rested on a smooth collarbone and emphasized her-

Necklace.

The one he had given her, that she still wore.

"Are you ready to go?" Merlin asked, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him. He nodded mutely and picked up the picnic basket. Merlin stopped to give Gaius a quick kiss before taking Gwaine's hand and tugging him along, eager to get outside.

Gwaine, still in shock, just let her.

He broke out of his stupor a few minutes later, once it became clear that Merlin expected him to talk to her as they walked. It really was a lovely day, and it seemed as though everybody in Camelot was taking advantage of it. It was incredibly crowded out.

"Don't worry," Gwaine assured her. "I know somewhere where we won't be bothered."

Merlin hummed in agreement, and then asked about his training. In turn, he asked her about working with Gaius, and conversation flowed easily between them.

They made it out to the forest and Merlin took a deep breath of air. Gwaine watched fascinated as she seemed to turn into a different person. Where in the city she was chatty and overflowing with enthusiasm, she calmed here, looking truly relaxed.

Although Merlin was probably one of the most easy going people he had ever met, she always had a look about her that made Gwaine feel as though she was constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for something to come crashing down on her. Gwaine wondered, but never questioned. Everybody was entitled to their secrets. He himself had done things in the past that he prayed Merlin never found out about.

Here, though, Merlin looked truly at ease, whistling along with the birds, picking flowers, sniffing herbs. It truly was a sight to see.

She noticed him looking.

"I like the woods," she explained. "I mean, I love Camelot, too, but I don't have to hide here. There's nobody to see that I- you know."

Gwaine actually didn't know, but Merlin wasn't looking at him, so she didn't notice his confusion. He saw the tips of her ears and the back of her neck turn red as she smiled softly.

"I'm really glad you don't hate me Gwaine," Merlin said nervously.

Gwaine still had no idea what she was talking about, but he answered her truthfully. "I could never hate you, Merlin."

Merlin laughed nervously, although it was tinged with relief. "That's what Lancelot and Gaius told me last night, when I told them that I wanted to tell you. They said that you'd be happy if I told you, but I was worried you'd be angry if I kept it from you, but I didn't think it was fair to not-"

Merlin suddenly shook her head and grinned at him sheepishly. "I don't know why I'm saying all this again. I explained it to you all last night."

"It's alright," Gwaine said automatically. His head was spinning

Last night?

Last night?

He couldn't remember a thing about last night, but clearly Merlin had come to see him, and told him something important, too. But what? He decided to change the subject. He could always track down Lancelot and ask him, since he seemed to know what was going on.

(Gwaine would have asked Gaius, but he didn't want to risk being poisoned.)

They had walked a ways into the forest when Gwaine pushed back some bushes, allowing Merlin to step through. She did, and froze. Gwaine stepped behind her and looked out in front of them, interpreting her expression to be one of awe at the beauty in front of him: it was a large lake that he had found one day, surrounded by mountains and lovely flowers. It was quiet and peaceful and was so far deep into the forest that they were sure to be undisturbed.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Gwaine asked gently.

Merlin swallowed and, when Gwaine looked, she was blinking back tears. His eyes widened in panic- Oh, dear lord, what, had he done?

"Merlin?" Gwaine asked frantically. "Are you- I mean, what-?"

"I had a friend who died," Merlin said softly, biting her lip. The way she said "friend" made Gwaine a bit suspicious. "He died here and this was where his funeral was."

Gwaine was torn between two emotions: complete sympathy for Merlin (he was no stranger to losing a friend, after all) and complete anger towards himself (what kind of idiot was he, for bringing her here?).

"We can go somewhere else, then," Gwaine said immediately. Merlin looked up at him and frowned. "Or home. You could go home, if you'd like. I'd understand if you-"

Merlin shook her head and rubbed the tears that Gwaine had been trying to ignore from her eyes. "Don't be thick. I like to come here. It reminds me of him. Besides, it's time I had some good memories associated with this like. It really is too beautiful for me to be sad whenever I come here."

Gwaine nodded slowly and placed the basket on the ground, right underneath a tree. He pulled out a blanket and Merlin helped him spread it out.

"You've really thought this through," she said, sounding oddly pleased.

He shrugged. "Today is important."

Merlin caught the implication in his words and blushed. As he turned around to get the sandwiches in the basket, he grinned, accomplished.

Gwaine turned around to give Merlin her food. She had already sat down on the blanket and was leaning back, sun on her face, smiling pleasantly. He sat down next to her and handed her sandwich. He also reached over and pulled out a flask of water and two goblets.

Merlin unfolded the cloth holding the sandwich and eyed it curiously. It was slightly lopsided and looked far too messy to be the cook's usual food. "You made these, didn't you?"

"That obvious?" he asked. Merlin laughed and Gwaine added, "The cook watched the entire time though. She promises that they're edible."

Merlin took his word for it and took a huge bite, chewing thoughtfully, before swallowing. "You pass."

Gwaine took his bite and was relieved to see that they really didn't taste all that bad. After that, the two sat in relative silence, eating. It was getting a bit late in the day for lunch, after all. It had taken them some time to make it to the woods and their walk had given them even more of an appetite.

Soon, though, they had finished, and somehow Gwaine found himself leaning against the tree, legs stretched out in front of him. Merlin lay down across him, her head in his lap, looking up at the tree branches, eyes glazed over as she contemplated something that only she could see.

One of Gwaine's hands went to her hair, pulling it gently from its braid and then running it slowly through his fingers. His other hand was held by her two small ones, over her stomach. She had clasped one of hers in his. The other was tracing the lines on the back of his hand.

He could have stayed like this for the rest of his life, if he were honest. It was a beautiful day and there was a light breeze, the birds singing softly.

Merlin broke the silence. "His name was Frey."

Gwaine looked down at her and she met his gaze. "Your friend?"

"Mhm. He would have loved a day like today. Quiet, peaceful." Merlin said, after another minute, "I was in love with him."

Gwaine was filled with an irrational sort of envy. He felt completely awful and quenched the feeling the moment it arose. Frey had died, leaving Merlin quite clearly heartbroken, and Gwaine was jealous of him.

But- of course he was. Gwaine had been with more than his fair share of meaningless affairs with women, but never had he been in love (not until Merlin, at least). Merlin had been in love, though, deeply in love. And Frey, despite being, well, dead, had gotten to Merlin's heart first, and that was, to Gwaine, something to be jealous of.

"How did he die?" Gwaine asked without thinking.

Merlin's hand stilled, and then she began to tap a steady beat on this palm with her fingers. Gwaine grasped them and started to run his thumb over them. They were small hands, but her fingers were long and calloused because of her hard work for Arthur over the years, in sharp contrast to the softness of the back of her hand, where the skin was smooth and untouched.

"You don't have to tell me," he told her, but she shook her head.

"No, I do," she said finally. "After last night, I promised myself no more secrets. Not from you."

(He really needed to talk to Lancelot, Gwaine decided, and soon.)

"He was killed by- You need to understand that it wasn't his fault," Merlin said finally, after waiting for a moment. For a moment Gwaine thought she meant Frey, but then she added, "He did what he had to do to protect Camelot."

"Who?" Gwaine asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"You mustn't tell him," Merlin continued. "He didn't know that I knew Frey and even if he did do the right thing at the time, I don't think he'd forgive himself."

"Who wouldn't?" Gwaine asked again, although he had a good feeling. There were only a handful of people Merlin would protect the way she was protecting this man, and even less who were capable of killing.

"Arthur," Merlin said softly and Gwaine shifted in shock. "He killed him, but- Frey wasn't himself. I mean, he was, but a sorceress had cursed him to turn into Bastet. At night, Frey wouldn't have any choice: he'd have to kill, he couldn't control it. I tried to get him out, get him away from Camelot, but Arthur-"

Merlin shook her head. "It wasn't his fault. He was protecting Camelot."

"But you miss Frey," Gwaine said gently.

Merlin nodded. "Of course I do. He understood me. For the first time in a long time I felt like I wasn't alone, that there was somebody out there who could understand what it was like to live the way I do."

Gwaine didn't say anything, not sure what Merlin was trying to say.

"I'm more angry at the sorceress who cursed Frey," Merlin admitted. "He didn't deserve it. Frey was so gentle."

Gwaine couldn't really understand just how gentle that man must have been then, to hear Merlin say that about him-Merlin, who gave bunnies to little girls and helps Gaius tend to the sick and wounded and who Gwaine had once seen spend half an hour trying to catch a spider in Arthur's chambers just so she could set it free instead of killing it.

"We were going to run away together," Merlin said thoughtfully, "Me and him. We were going to go off to life in the mountains somewhere, near a lake like this."

"You were going to leave Camelot?" Gwaine asked, feeling an odd tightening in his stomach. Merlin blinked lazily, never taking her eyes off of the lake.

She nodded. "This was ages ago, when I first came to Camelot, really. It wasn't really home yet, I suppose. Not like it is now."

Gwaine felt the tightening in his stomach grow as he imagined what would have happened if Merlin had made it out with him, and, in the darkest corners of his mind, he felt an incredible relief that Frey had died. As ashamed of the thought as he was, he made no attempt to try and deny it. If he hadn't died, Merlin might be with him know. Where would she be? Where would he be? Probably in a tavern somewhere, bedding another random woman, which would have appealed to him before he came to Camelot, before he met Merlin.

Now, though, the thought of being anywhere but here, anywhere but by this lake, on this day, with Merlin laying here with him, Merlin who was starting to mean more to him than any one person should-

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked him softly, looking up at him. Had her eyes always been that blue? "Are you alright?"

Gwaine didn't say anything for a minute. Finally, he rasped, "Oh, screw it!"

His hands moved to frame her face and Merlin's eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. She didn't make any move to shy away, though, as he lowered himself closer to her.

Closer.

Almost there.

He closed his eyes as his lips met her-

Hair?

He opened his eyes and was met with an eyeful of Merlin's hair. It's not that her hair was unpleasant. It wasn't. It was rather nice, actually. It was still in loose waves from the braid it had been in, and it was soft and smelled like honey.

But what was he going to have to do to kiss this woman?

Without one of them being drunk.

Merlin, who had apparently turned her head when he went to kiss her, didn't seem bothered by any of it.

"Did you hear that?" she demanded.

He shook his head petulantly.

"I was a bit focused on other things," he said honestly. "I'd really like to get back to what we were doing before."

Merlin whacked him in the arm, thinking he was joking (he wasn't.) and sat up. Gwaine sighed.

There went that plan.

"I'm being serious," she scolded. "Listen!"

He did. Just as he was about to admit that he didn't hear anything, he did actually hear something: lowered voices coming through a thicket off to their left. Nobody ever came this far into the woods. It was very strange.

Merlin seemed to agree, since she had already stood up and, crouching, made her way over there. She gently parted the thicket and looked through it. Whatever she saw made her gasp and prompted Gwaine to follow her.

He crept up behind her and peered over her, his chin resting on her shoulder. One of his hands wound around her waist, steadying her. As soon as he saw what Merlin had seen, his other hand went to the hilt of his sword.

Bandits.

There were three of them, huddled around a withering fire, eating something. One of them, a skinny bloke with a massive mop of red hair, let out a burp. Merlin wrinkled her nose.

"So, when's this plan goin' down?" Ginger asked.

The one with the big nose sighed, obviously annoyed. "I told you, didn't I? Tonight."

"That 'nuff time?" asked the third man, who was missing a finger.

"They're movin' it in today, so Bedwyr'll be in place," said Big Nose. Gwaine's eyes widened in surprise. Could it be the same magician he and Merlin had seen only the day before? Gwaine knew he hadn't liked the look of him. "Good thinkin', wasn't it? Signin' on to do this job wif' a magician."

Gwaine grimaced.

"King Arthur won't know what hit him," Nine Fingers chortled happily. Merlin stiffened and her shoulders grew tense beneath his chin. Gwaine himself could feel the hot anger growing in the pit of his stomach.

Contrary to how he might act, Gwaine did actually consider Arthur a friend, never mind that Arthur was king, and a bloody good one, at that. The last thing Gwaine wanted was to see his friend, his king, a man he had sworn to protect, threatened by a group of low-life bandits and a seedy street performer.

"'Course he won't," said Ginger, sounding incredibly confused. Clearly he was the idiot of the group. "He'll be dead."

"Gwaine," Merlin said softly, watching the scene unfold. "We need to warn Arthur."

"We do," Gwaine admitted, but he was reluctant to move. He and Merlin were pressed close together and he could feel the heat radiate off her body. His hand wound a bit more tightly around her waist. "But if I'm honest with you, princess, I really don't want to move right now."

"Good," came a voice from behind them. "So you won't object when I tell you that if you move, you die."

Gwaine and Merlin each jerked around, almost falling on top of each other. Gwaine reached for his sword, but was too late. A blade was held to his throat and a fourth bandit- one that neither he or Merlin had ever seen- was standing over them. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you."

"What's goin' on here?" asked Big Nose, coming in through the thicket. The fourth bandit (a big, beefy, man with an unfortunate combover) nudged Gwaine's chin with the point of his sword.

"We've got some eavesdroppers, looks like."

Big Nose had already pulled out a sword and now held it at Merlin's throat. Combover barked at Gwaine, "I thought I told you to drop that sword."

Gwaine pulled it out of the scabbard and placed it gently on the ground. He may have been willing to bargain with his own life, but not Merlin's.

Never Merlin's.

Combover gestured for them to all walk into the bandits' camp site. Ginger and Nine Fingers stood up in surprise when they saw Merlin and Gwaine being walked into camp. They both pulled out their swords and the four bandits surrounded their two captives, who were forced onto their knees.

Ginger asked. "Who're they?"

"I recognize 'er," Nine Fingers said proudly, pointing at Merlin. "She works for the king! I saw her 'round the castle when I went to stake it out."

"The king?" Combover said from behind Gwaine. "Really? I can only guess what kind o' work she does."

Big Nose snickered.

"Still," Combover mused as he circled around. Gwaine glimpsed the lewd grin on his face and felt sick to his stomach. Merlin looked pointedly away. "You'd think he'd get somebody better lookin'- she's a bit scrawny. He's king, after all. If he's goin' to go through all that trouble of keeping a royal mistress secret from his Queenie, you'd think he'd go for somebody much prettier. She must be hiding something really special underneath that dress. I wonder what it is."

He knelt down to look Merlin in eye. "You mind giving us a peek?"

"I'd rather die," Merlin said sweetly.

"That could be arranged," Combover said.

Merlin made a face. "Please make it soon. I don't know how much more I could stand to look at your face."

Gwaine smirked, but Combover didn't seem to enjoy it. He frowned and brought his sword to Merlin's cheek. Gwaine tensed, but Merlin didn't move, her eyes never leaving his face. "This one's got quite a mouth on her. We could put it to good use later."

He smacked her cheek with the flat of the blade and Merlin stumbled slightly. Gwaine moved to catch her, but Ginger's hair at his throat stopped him. When Merlin sat back up on her knees, Gwaine could see that her cheek was red and would probably bruise later, but she was otherwise unharmed.

All it seemed to have really made her was annoyed. She eyed the bandits calculatingly- all except Combover, who was now standing behind Gwaine. Before he could figure out what she was planning, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the three bandits in front of them were sucked into the ground.

Sucked into the ground.

Gwaine acted on instinct, grabbed one of the swords they had dropped, stood up, turned around, and ran Combover through. He was dead before he knew what hit him.

That left Gwaine looking at Merlin- Merlin who had magic- who was wiping off her dress and looking pleased with herself.

"Ready to get back to Camelot?" she asked him, as if she hadn't just turned the world on its head. "We need to hurry to warn Arthur."

"You have magic," he stated dumbly. Sure, he may have speculated at times that Merlin had some sort of magical abilities, but it was different to have it confirmed and done right in front of him. Merlin's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Of course I do," she laughed nervously. "I told you last night."

"You did?" Gwaine said incredulously. So that's what she'd been talking about all morning. Merlin's face fell as she finally realized what had happened.

"You- you don't remember? You were drunk?" she asked weakly. Gwaine nodded his head and Merlin paled considerably. Her eyes fell to the sword he still held in his hand, which was still damp with Combover's blood.

Gwaine dropped the sword immediately. Merlin should never have any reason to look at him like that, like she was scared, like he would hurt her. His hurt must have shown on his face, because Merlin looked at him appeasingly.

"Gwaine," she squeaked. "I'm sorry- I mean, I don't know what to tell you that I didn't say yesterday. I did tell you, honest! I thought it wasn't fair to keep my secret from you any longer and I'm sorry I waited so long, but I need to use my magic to protect Arthur and I can't do that if I'm executed for sorcery-"

"Do you honestly think," Gwaine interrupted, one clear thought, fueled by burning, hot, anger and a cooler, simmering hurt, breaking through his muddled head, "That I would ever do anything to hurt you, Merlin?"

Merlin opened and closed her mouth, before quietly shaking her head. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "No, you wouldn't. I'm sorry."

Gwaine looked at her for a minute, trying to understand. Merlin had magic. Merlin had kept it from him, because she was worried that he would hurt her, and apparently she was trying to protect Arthur.

Merlin thought he would hurt her.

Merlin thought he would hurt her.

Out of it all, that was the one thing Gwaine couldn't understand. He had always been Merlin's friend. He had risked his life to help her, because he cared for her, but she didn't seem to understand. Why would she think that her friends would want to hurt her?

Maybe because they did, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, and he suddenly had a glimpse of what it might be like to be Merlin, who served Arthur, their king. The same Arthur who railed against sorcerers and magic and what he would do to any sorcerers he had found.

And Merlin had to listen to it all.

No wonder she had been afraid of Gwaine's reaction. She spent day after day faithfully serving (and protecting, according to her, which explained why Arthur had miraculously escaped attempt after attempt on his life) her king, all the while knowing that if he ever found out who she really was- Well, there was no real telling what Arthur would do at this point.

Gwaine tried to imagine what it would be like to live knowing that there was a good chance that your best friend would hate you if he ever found out your biggest secret. He wouldn't be able to manage it- add onto that that your best friend was the king and that his knights, who were also your friends, had sworn to serve him and uphold his laws, which included laws that would have you killed.

Gwaine didn't know how she stood it, but he knew right now, with Merlin watching him, her face crumpled in worry and hurt, such a huge difference from the normally easy going grin on her face (and how could she be easy going with all that going on?), that he would not add to her burden.

Of all people in the world, she deserved it least.

And hadn't he suspected for a while that Merlin had magic? It was hardly fair of him to criticize her for not coming clean about the matter when he had hardly done the same.

"Apology accepted," he said gruffly. Merlin's expression instantly brightened, although Gwaine could tell that she didn't really understand why he had been so forgiving. Maybe he'd explain it to her one day: that learning she had magic had only reinforced the fact that she was better than he could ever be and he needed that around him, needed it like he needed air, because he honestly didn't want to imagine what his life would be like if he didn't see Merlin's grin around the castle on a daily basis.

The days where Merlin was sad (for whatever reason) were especially hard on him and the knights. It was unnatural, seeing Merlin unhappy.

"We need to get to Arthur," she said suddenly and Gwaine blinked, startled. He had almost forgotten about Arthur, in all honesty. He nodded and Merlin began to lead the way out of the woods, moving much faster than their leisurely pace on their way in.

"I have some questions, though, you know," he called to her, as he ran to catch up. Merlin grinned good-naturedly, looking much more like her old self.

"I thought you would," she said. "When I told you last night, I was really surprised when you didn't ask me anything. I expected you to natter on about it for hours," she teased.

"You'd know all about nattering, wouldn't you, Merlin?" Gwaine joked back.

She smiled again, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners, which only happened when she was really happy. "What do you want to know first?"

Gwaine thought and thought and thought. Finally he broke into a smile and, completely serious, asked her, "Have you ever tried turning water into mead?"

Chapter Text

By the time Merlin and Gwaine made it back to Camelot, they had both fallen silent. Gwaine had spent a majority of the time quizzing Merlin about her magic and he had finally run out of things to ask.

For now.

They were both tired and sweaty and covered in leaves and the hem of Merlin's pretty, purple dress, which was once clean and fresh, was caked six inches deep in mud from where she had accidentally stepped into a puddle. As Gwaine had expected, her cheek had bruised, although she didn't really seem to notice, determined as she was to save Arthur. She wasted no time in dragging Gwaine with her to Arthur's chambers, barely giving him enough time to shove the picnic basket into the hands of a passing (and subsequently confused) Lancelot.

When they burst into Arthur's chambers (without knocking) they were surprised to see that Arthur wasn't alone. Several large men were moving a new wooden wardrobe into the room. Merlin shifted impatiently, wanting to get Arthur, who seemed to be supervising.

Gwaine and Merlin waited for what seemed like hours for the men to finish. When they did, Arthur clapped them on the shoulders, thanked them for their services and sent them off, admiring the new wardrobe.

"Arthur," Merlin began, but Arthur interrupted.

"Isn't it nice?" he asked. "The wardrobe I had before was too small for Guinevere and I to share, so I had this one brought in."

Gwaine couldn't help but admit that it was a nice wardrobe: larger than the last one and dark, made of what looked to be oak.

"Yes," Merlin said, clearly not caring. "It's beautiful. I'll make sure to take good care of it when I clean. Arthur, listen-"

But Arthur wasn't done interrupting. Not yet tearing his eyes away from the wardrobe, he said, "I'm surprised you too are back so early. I gave you the day off, after all. I expected you take advantage of-"

He stopped short, catching sight of his two friends for the first time. Gwaine smirked at Arthur's flabbergasted expression as he took in their rumpled clothes, flushed faces, and the twigs in their hair. The king demanded, "What happened to you two? You were supposed to go for a picnic in the forest not a- a- tumble in the hay!"

Merlin blushed and stuttered, denying everything, but Gwaine just shrugged, completely unembarrassed, and shook his head.

Arthur also noticed Merlin's face for the first time. "And what happened to your face?"

Merlin was slightly flattered that he sounded so furious. They had come a long way, the two of them had, from their first fight in the castle courtyard. Now, here he was, her king, master, and friend, concerned for her.

When he looked at Gwaine suspiciously, and Merlin couldn't help but feel slightly insulted on his behalf.

"That's what we were trying to tell you," she said heatedly. "There were bandits in the woods! We ran into them."

Arthur stood up straighter, suddenly at attention. "Are you both alright?"

"Now he cares," Merlin muttered, before nodding. "Yes. We're fine."

"I'll send out patrols-" Arthur began, but Merlin interrupted him. "Don't bother. All four bandits are dead."

Arthur looked impressed and nodded in Gwaine's direction to show his gratitude. "Good work, Sir Gwaine."

Gwaine opened his mouth to protest, to tell Arthur that it was Merlin who had done most of the work, but was stopped by a swift kick to his shin. He looked at Merlin who subtly shook her head: she would get no credit. Gwaine couldn't help but wonder how many other times somebody else had taken credit for something she had done.

"That's not the important bit, Arthur," Merlin said, stepping forward. "They were plotting to kill you!"

Arthur shrugged, looking unconcerned. "There's almost always somebody trying to kill me. That's why I have guards."

Merlin glared and huffed and stomped her foot. Gwaine couldn't help but think that she was cute when she was frustrated. "He's going to use magic!"

"He's a sorcerer?" Arthur demanded. Merlin met his eyes, glare for glare, before finally deflating and shuffling uncomfortably.

"Well, no, not really. He's a street magician." Merlin hastened to add, "But who knows what sort of skills you pick up in that line of work!"

"Merlin," Arthur said kindly, as though talking to a small child, which Gwaine supposed Merlin had a tendency to be. "I understand your concern, but the guards will take good care of me, and, of course, the knights."

"I know they will, Arthur," Merlin said. Arthur added, before Merlin could protest, "Are you saying that you don't trust Sir Gwaine?"

Gwaine stiffened as Merlin looked at him, her eyes growing soft. She smiled at him and said, much more softly than the voice she had been using previously with Arthur, "Of course I trust him."

Gwaine felt his heart grow warm and he met Merlin's eyes. Neither of them said anything for a moment, but Arthur broke the silence with a loud cough.

"Yes, well, if you two would mind taking your little staring contest elsewhere," Arthur waved towards the door. "I have- kingly things to do."

Gwaine was about to argue that Arthur needed to take the threat more seriously, but once again Merlin stopped him. She shook her head and took his hand and began to pull him to the door. Merlin was about to close it behind them when Arthur called back, "Oh, and Merlin?"

Merlin stuck her head back into the room. "Arthur?"

Arthur looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"You look very nice today," he stuttered. Merlin frowned, not sure what he was getting at, until she realized that this was his way of apologizing for his comment earlier and acknowledging that he might have taken it too far.

But mushy apologies were never hers and Arthur's specialty, so she smirked at him.

"That makes one of us," she retorted. She ducked and shut the door quickly behind her, hearing the smash as a plate hit the door, signaling that Arthur had thrown something at her. She straightened and walked over to where Gwaine was waiting for her at the end of the corridor.

"What was that all about?" Gwaine asked, wondering why Arthur had called her back. Merlin snorted and shook her head and Gwaine dropped it, deciding that it wasn't worth it. He focused back on the matter at hand. "Why didn't you try to convince him that he was in danger?"

"Because he's a stubborn prat," Merlin huffed, annoyed. "And I've been down this road before and trust me: Arthur won't listen. We're better off on our own."

So that was how Gwaine found himself back at Gaius's, along with the physician himself, Merlin, and a now-caught-up Lancelot.

They were currently trying to figure out how Bedwyr was going to try and kill Arthur. They had been talking for hours, now. Merlin and Gwaine had spent some time exploring the castle, looking for any signs of Bedwyr, but found nothing. Lancelot had alerted the guards to be extra vigilant.

"There are only two ways into Arthur's chambers," Merlin repeated for what had to be the billionth time. "The windows or the door."

Gwaine, who had, several hours ago, turned a chair around and straddled it, tired of walking, raised his head from his hands. Merlin had been pacing since they had got back, fierce determination written all over her face. Gwaine wanted to save his king, too, but he was tired and hungry.

"Nobody could get in through the windows," Lancelot, who was sitting next to him, offered. "They're too high up."

"So the door, then," Merlin said firmly. Gwaine shook his head. "They're too heavily guarded."

"Well he can't appear out of thin air," Merlin said frustratedly. "Even I can't do that!"

"Maybe you two misheard," Gaius said gently, not wanting to offend either of them. "Perhaps Bedwyr will not be trying anything tonight."

"No," Gwaine denied. This much he was sure about. "The bandits explicitly said that Bedwyr would be attacking tonight because something would be moved in, and Bedwyr would be in place- Merlin? Where are you going?"

Something Gwaine had said must have triggered something in Merlin, since she shot out the door so fast that she was nothing more than a purple blur. Gwaine and Lancelot ran after her. She seemed to be headed to Arthur's chambers.

"It's the wardrobe!" she called to them.

She barreled past the guards and opened the door. Gwaine, who was right behind her, saw Bedwyr standing over Arthur's and Gwen's bed (he was hiding in the wardrobe, Gwaine realized) with a knife. Merlin's eyes again flashed gold and Bedwyr was thrown backwards into the wall, landing with a crash.

Gwen shot up in bed and screeched, seeing Bedwyr, and pulled the covers over herself. Arthur was up by now, too, hopping out of bed (thankfully clothed, Gwaine was relieved to find) and running to grab a sword.

Gwaine and Lancelot rushed into the room, followed by the Guards who were feeling incredibly out of the loop. Bedwyr groaned and opened his eyes, but Gwaine was already there, holding a sword to his throat. Arthur was there, too, staring incredulously.

"Sire," Gwaine said proudly. "Meet Bedwyr. He was trying to kill you."

"Clearly," Arthur said, putting his sword away, happy that Gwaine had Bedwyr under control. He waved the guards over to restrain Bedwyr, who was glaring quite unhappily, and then turned his wife, who was watching everything with wide eyes. "Are you alright?"

Gwen nodded, "Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit shaken up."

Arthur now looked angry. Apparently when somebody tried to kill him he was alright, but if they upset his wife, then he was angry. Gwaine didn't think he'd ever understand being in love.

On the other hand...

He looked at Merlin, who had been watching everything with an odd mixture of concern and smugness from the corner of the room, his eyes fixed on the ugly bruise on her cheek. He remembered the satisfaction he felt in running Combover through.

...Maybe he did understand.

"How did he get in?"

"He hid in the wardrobe," Merlin offered, answering Arthur's question. Lancelot had already walked over to it and opened it. He shifted around some of Gwen's dresses until he found a small, secret compartment hidden in the back, much like the one that was often found in boxes like the one Bedwyr had put Merlin in several days ago.

Bedwyr seethed and snarled at the king, "You should be dead! Your father killed my parents- and for what? For doing some silly illusions on the streets! They weren't really sorcerers!"

The guards tightened their grip on him and he shut up.

"I told you he'd use his magic!" Merlin said gleefully. Arthur glared sourly at her.

"Shut up, Merlin," he grumbled. Arthur turned to the guards. "Take him to the dungeons. I'll deal with him tomorrow morning, after I've had a good night's sleep. That goes for the rest of you: out!"

Gwaine didn't think that this was very gracious behavior considering that he and Lancelot and Merlin had just saved his life, but Gwaine dropped it. Maybe Arthur'd be more gracious in the morning, after he'd gotten some sleep.

Merlin, Arthur, and Lancelot regrouped in the corridor. Lancelot chuckled. "Well, thank-you, Merlin, for yet another interesting night."

"You're welcome," Merlin laughed.

Lancelot bit them both a goodnight and left hastily (much to Gwaine's delight, apparently he had a date planned with Tegan, and he wanted to get some rest). That left Merlin and Gwaine, standing alone. Merlin looked anywhere but him and Gwaine thought that she wasn't going to say anything, but finally she said, "I'm sorry this day didn't turn out quite like you planned."

"Things rarely do when you're involved, Merlin," Gwaine said, but he didn't say it to criticize Merlin. He had accepted long ago that he'd never be bored with Merlin, and he wouldn't change that for the world.

"I know you went through a lot of trouble for today," Merlin said apologetically.

"We never got to have the peach cobbler," Gwaine said despondently.

Merlin perked up, looking oddly flattered. "You made peach cobbler for us?"

Gwaine smiled at her, slightly embarrassed. "Made...stole... It's all the same, isn't it?"

Merlin's eyes widened. "You stole from the cook? That's amazing!" She laughed, sounding impressed when Gwaine nodded.

"She may be a very scary woman," Gwaine said, his voice lowered as though sharing an important secret, "But even she is not immune to my charms."

"I don't think there's any woman immune to your charms," Merlin offered. Gwaine smirked and moved in closer. Merlin's eyes widened and he saw her breath catch.

"Does that include you, Merlin?" Gwaine asked her carefully. He raised his hand forward to gently rest on her bruised cheek. She nodded and then laughed nervously.

"Yes, but it's your own fault! Your hair must have magical properties or something and you're too-"

Whatever Merlin had been about to say was drowned out by the kiss he gave her, which she returned enthusiastically. Gwaine smiled into it as Merlin reached her hands up to rest on his shoulders and his hands were finally-finally- able to tangle into her dark hair. It had definitely been worth the wait. They stood in the corridor, light streaming in through one of the windows, kissing, bathed by the silver beams of the moon.

It's needless to say that Camelot lived happily ever after.

At least, until Morgana tried to take over again.

But that's a story for another day.

THE END