Part 4: link
Two weeks later.
Arthur enters the royal bedchamber, sighing heavily as he closes the door.
“Trouble?” Gwen asks. She is sitting at Arthur’s desk, reading some parchments. He stops to look at her, swathed in the morning sunlight like an angel. The sight of her makes him feel a little better, but his heart is still heavy with the news he heard from the overnight patrol.
“Odin’s men are encroaching on our borders again,” Arthur tells her, dropping his gloves on the table before walking towards her.
“Sit,” he tells her as she begins to stand.
“What are you going to do?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to fight with him. I’m tired of this cat-and-mouse he keeps dragging me into,” he leans on the edge of the desk, facing her.
“I know,” she sighs. “How many more times is he going to try to kill you?”
He shrugs, “Until he succeeds, I imagine.”
“Arthur!” Guinevere does not like this answer.
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Will he not see reason? Perhaps you can arrange a meeting, try and make amends with him. Find neutral territory.”
“I’m not sure he would agree to such a meeting.”
“You never know until you try, my love,” she says, taking his hand.
He sighs. “I need to think,” he says, kneeling down beside her.
“Who’s there?” Arthur’s voice comes from the other side of the door.
“Merlin, Sire. May I enter?”
“Is it important?”
“Yes, Sire.”
A pause. “No.”
He hears a muffled “Ow!” followed by Guinevere’s voice. “Yes, Merlin, please come in.”
Merlin opens the door slowly. He knew that Arthur and Gwen were alone in here, and has really learned to be better about knocking before entering.
“Arthur?” he says, looking around. He doesn’t see the king.
“What is it, Merlin?”
He follows the voice. He sees Gwen sitting in the chair behind Arthur’s desk in the alcove by the window, but he doesn’t see Arthur. She is looking down, her hands in her lap.
Merlin walks forward, puzzled, and Gwen looks up and smiles at him. As he gets closer, he sees Arthur seated on the floor, his head in the queen’s lap. She is stroking his hair, and his eyes are closed.
“Arthur?” he says again.
“Out with it, Merlin. As you can see, I am very busy.”
“Clearly.”
Arthur opens his eyes and glares at him. “What is it?”
Gwen pulls his hair again. “Be nice.”
Merlin is holding something in his hands, wrapped in a piece of linen. It is small, fitting onto one palm easily.
“Um, this was found. In the dungeons. I thought you needed to see it.” He opens the linen.
With a heavy sigh, Arthur stands. “What now?” He looks. “A bracelet. So?”
“A… bracelet?” Gwen says, standing, her voice shaking. “Where was it found? Specifically.”
Merlin looks at her. “I think you know where, my lady.” His face is tight, careful.
Gwen leans forward, peering at it. She puts her hands over her mouth and slumps back down into the chair.
“Guinevere! What… what is it?” Arthur exclaims, rushing to her side.
“That… bracelet. He gave it to me. Merlin, why would you bring that here?” Tears slip down her cheeks, and Arthur is looking daggers at his servant.
He takes a breath. Careful words, Merlin. “Gaius and I have reason to believe that this bracelet had been enchanted.”
“WHAT?” Arthur roars. “Merlin, you had better explain yourself.”
“Arthur, look at it. Do the markings on this look… ordinary to you?”
He reaches for it. “Don’t touch it!” Merlin cautions, “I—we don’t know the extent of its powers.”
Arthur lifts it by the handkerchief in which is it wrapped, and looks closely at it. “He gave this to you,” he says quietly. “When?” They each have their own reasons for refusing to speak Lancelot’s name.
“Be—before. Before I—we… but after he, um,” she sniffs, still crying, biting her lip, trying to organize her thoughts. With a deep breath, she continues. “The second day of the tournament. He… he came to my house that morning. I was shocked that he would be so bold. He said it was a wedding gift, that it would bring me luck. It brought nothing but pain.” Her face falls into her hands and she falls to sobbing again, the memories too painful.
“Gwen,” Merlin says gently, walking around to crouch beside her. “How did you feel… about him… before he gave you the bracelet.”
She looks up, eyes wide. “Puzzled. But only because we all thought he was dead, honest. And the guilt I had felt about essentially sending him to his death surfaced some. Relief, a little, that he was indeed alive. But mostly puzzled.”
Arthur is still pondering the bracelet, listening but saying nothing. It worries Gwen. It worries Merlin.
“And how did you feel… after?”
“Like… like I was no longer in control of my impulses. Impulses that I should have been horrified to be having.” Her voice is a whisper. “Something kept pulling me to him.” She pauses, and sniffles. “I never really loved him, you know. Even way back. I thought I did, but I didn’t.” She looks at Arthur, and he looks down at her at these words. “I thought I did, before I knew what it was to truly love someone,” she says softly, staring directly into Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur?” Merlin prompts.
“Morgana?” he asks Merlin.
“Who else would be so devious, so cruel?”
“And what of… him?”
Delicate. “Well, we’ve been doing some research,” Merlin starts to spin a half-truth. “We think he may have been a shade. A… a walking ghost, so to speak. He was an empty shell, under her control. He was her puppet and she was pulling the strings, making him do her bidding. With Agravaine’s help, of course.”
Merlin takes Gwen’s hand, concerned that Arthur isn’t saying anything to her, and he feels someone should be comforting her.
“Can you prove this bracelet is enchanted?” Arthur asks quietly.
When Merlin hesitates, Arthur jumps. “Please tell me that you can prove it, Merlin! I’m begging you!”
Merlin looks at Arthur. The king’s eyes are glassy, and Merlin realizes that Arthur is trembling, very slightly. He’s just barely holding it together.
“We can prove that the bracelet is enchanted, if you give Gaius permission. He will have to use magic to prove magic,” Merlin says, relying on Arthur’s trust in Gaius and his knowledge of Gaius’ past to allow him to clear Gwen’s conscience and heal Arthur’s heart. Both their hearts.
“It’s definitely enchanted, Gaius,” Merlin had said.
Two guards had been fighting over the bracelet and injured each other in the process. They were brought to Gaius for treatment, and he had confiscated it, suspicious. As soon as the guards were sent away, he sent for Merlin.
They both stare at the silver circle resting on the table. “So Guinevere did not betray Arthur after all,” Gaius says sadly. “I feel terrible.”
“So do I. But it’s nothing compared to how Arthur’s going to feel,” Merlin says. “We have to tell him. They need to know.”
“How? He’s going to want proof,” Gaius asks.
Merlin purses his lips together. “Okay. Here’s what you need to do…”
The trio race through the corridors of the palace, making their way towards Gaius’ chambers, Arthur in the lead. They round a corner and nearly knock Sir Elyan over in their haste.
“Gwen!” Elyan calls out. He has been trying to find her for weeks, but she keeps eluding him.
She keeps walking past as if she does not even see him.
“Gwen!” he tries again, but she keeps walking. “You can’t avoid me forever, you know.”
She stops, turning on her heel to look back at him. Her face is cold, eyes blazing. “Oh? And what makes you think you have done anything deserving my attention, Sir Elyan?” She marches towards him as she speaks, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She spits his title at him like a curse.
“Gwen, I’m sorry…” he starts.
She slaps him. Hard. Elyan is stunned, but not as stunned as Arthur and Merlin, observing from a short distance away.
“Guinevere,” Arthur starts forward, but Merlin puts an arm out, blocking him.
“No, Arthur. This is between them,” he says quietly. Arthur stops and nods mutely, watching through wide blue eyes. I have never seen her like this.
“You’re sorry? You. You of all people. Who stood by you through all your shenanigans, all the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into over the years? Who has defended you again and again? Who came to your aid when no one else would?” Gwen is standing before her brother, small and fierce, glaring at him.
“Gwen…” Elyan tries.
She cuts him off, shouting now. “Who talked the innkeeper out of gutting you when he found you with his daughter? Who gave you money to pay off your gambling debts; your tavern bills? Who covered for you time and time again when Father was looking for you and you were nowhere to be found?”
“You did,” he says, quiet as a mouse.
Just then Leon and Gwaine round the corner, drawn by the noise. The see their queen staring down her brother, fire in her eyes, and they quickly and wisely do an about-face and retreat the way they came.
“Correct,” she says. Elyan seems to be shrinking under her assault. She continues, her voice level and hard as stone. “And who was it that did not come to my aid when I was at my lowest? When I had no one? When I really could have used a friendly face? When the only family I have left could have been the only person that could stand by me and support me? Who was it that stood there and looked at me with disdain on his face? No. Disgust.”
“I did,” he whispers.
“You didn’t need to approve of what I did. Hell, I don’t even approve of what I did. But your actions that day only showed me that you care more about your position as a Knight of Camelot than you do about your own sister.” She is no longer shouting, but her low, measured tone is no less frightening. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, actually. You couldn’t even be bothered to show when our father died, why should I expect you to come my aid, your only sister, when I could have been executed?”
“Ha. Sister,” she continues with a humorless laugh, looking towards the ceiling. Then, looking him square in the eye, she declares, “You no longer have the right to call me ‘sister.’ At least not until you can find a way to make amends.”
Elyan is shocked. She’s disowning me?
When he says nothing, she spins around to walk away again, tears forming in her eyes.
“Gwen, wait!” he finally finds his voice. She stops, but does not turn.
“What?”
“How do I do that? Make amends.”
She looks over her shoulder at him and says, “That is not my concern. You need to figure that out for yourself, Sir Elyan. I am no longer in the business of helping you.”
Elyan stands there, dumbfounded, as he watches his sister walk away from him and into Arthur’s arms. Merlin spares him a glance, but no help. Arthur does not look at him, he only holds his wife to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. She sighs, gently pulls away from him and quickly marches down the corridor, leading the way to Gaius’ room, away from Elyan.
They reach the door, and Merlin opens it, allowing Gwen to enter first. Arthur pauses near his servant. “Merlin,” he quietly says, slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on his wife’s back. “Remind me to never make Guinevere angry.”
Merlin follows Arthur’s gaze and says, “I’ll remind you if you remind me.”
“That’s it?” Gaius says. “Just one word?”
“That’s it,” Merlin nods. “But Gaius. Make it look good. Arthur does know about your past, but he doesn’t know how recently you’ve used magic. So…”
“Ah, add some theatrics, I see. So he thinks I’m rusty.”
“Yes. And find a book. Go down the archives if you have to, but find a book that looks vaguely magical and very old. Surely there must be some books of magic in that archive yet, hidden away, collecting dust.”
“Why don’t I just use yours?”
“No!” Merlin exclaims, before he looks up at Gaius and sees the old man’s eyes twinkling. He is teasing him.
“Go find Arthur and Gwen,” Gaius ushers him out the door and heads to the archives.
Part 6: link
Two weeks later.
Arthur enters the royal bedchamber, sighing heavily as he closes the door.
“Trouble?” Gwen asks. She is sitting at Arthur’s desk, reading some parchments. He stops to look at her, swathed in the morning sunlight like an angel. The sight of her makes him feel a little better, but his heart is still heavy with the news he heard from the overnight patrol.
“Odin’s men are encroaching on our borders again,” Arthur tells her, dropping his gloves on the table before walking towards her.
“Sit,” he tells her as she begins to stand.
“What are you going to do?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to fight with him. I’m tired of this cat-and-mouse he keeps dragging me into,” he leans on the edge of the desk, facing her.
“I know,” she sighs. “How many more times is he going to try to kill you?”
He shrugs, “Until he succeeds, I imagine.”
“Arthur!” Guinevere does not like this answer.
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Will he not see reason? Perhaps you can arrange a meeting, try and make amends with him. Find neutral territory.”
“I’m not sure he would agree to such a meeting.”
“You never know until you try, my love,” she says, taking his hand.
He sighs. “I need to think,” he says, kneeling down beside her.
“Who’s there?” Arthur’s voice comes from the other side of the door.
“Merlin, Sire. May I enter?”
“Is it important?”
“Yes, Sire.”
A pause. “No.”
He hears a muffled “Ow!” followed by Guinevere’s voice. “Yes, Merlin, please come in.”
Merlin opens the door slowly. He knew that Arthur and Gwen were alone in here, and has really learned to be better about knocking before entering.
“Arthur?” he says, looking around. He doesn’t see the king.
“What is it, Merlin?”
He follows the voice. He sees Gwen sitting in the chair behind Arthur’s desk in the alcove by the window, but he doesn’t see Arthur. She is looking down, her hands in her lap.
Merlin walks forward, puzzled, and Gwen looks up and smiles at him. As he gets closer, he sees Arthur seated on the floor, his head in the queen’s lap. She is stroking his hair, and his eyes are closed.
“Arthur?” he says again.
“Out with it, Merlin. As you can see, I am very busy.”
“Clearly.”
Arthur opens his eyes and glares at him. “What is it?”
Gwen pulls his hair again. “Be nice.”
Merlin is holding something in his hands, wrapped in a piece of linen. It is small, fitting onto one palm easily.
“Um, this was found. In the dungeons. I thought you needed to see it.” He opens the linen.
With a heavy sigh, Arthur stands. “What now?” He looks. “A bracelet. So?”
“A… bracelet?” Gwen says, standing, her voice shaking. “Where was it found? Specifically.”
Merlin looks at her. “I think you know where, my lady.” His face is tight, careful.
Gwen leans forward, peering at it. She puts her hands over her mouth and slumps back down into the chair.
“Guinevere! What… what is it?” Arthur exclaims, rushing to her side.
“That… bracelet. He gave it to me. Merlin, why would you bring that here?” Tears slip down her cheeks, and Arthur is looking daggers at his servant.
He takes a breath. Careful words, Merlin. “Gaius and I have reason to believe that this bracelet had been enchanted.”
“WHAT?” Arthur roars. “Merlin, you had better explain yourself.”
“Arthur, look at it. Do the markings on this look… ordinary to you?”
He reaches for it. “Don’t touch it!” Merlin cautions, “I—we don’t know the extent of its powers.”
Arthur lifts it by the handkerchief in which is it wrapped, and looks closely at it. “He gave this to you,” he says quietly. “When?” They each have their own reasons for refusing to speak Lancelot’s name.
“Be—before. Before I—we… but after he, um,” she sniffs, still crying, biting her lip, trying to organize her thoughts. With a deep breath, she continues. “The second day of the tournament. He… he came to my house that morning. I was shocked that he would be so bold. He said it was a wedding gift, that it would bring me luck. It brought nothing but pain.” Her face falls into her hands and she falls to sobbing again, the memories too painful.
“Gwen,” Merlin says gently, walking around to crouch beside her. “How did you feel… about him… before he gave you the bracelet.”
She looks up, eyes wide. “Puzzled. But only because we all thought he was dead, honest. And the guilt I had felt about essentially sending him to his death surfaced some. Relief, a little, that he was indeed alive. But mostly puzzled.”
Arthur is still pondering the bracelet, listening but saying nothing. It worries Gwen. It worries Merlin.
“And how did you feel… after?”
“Like… like I was no longer in control of my impulses. Impulses that I should have been horrified to be having.” Her voice is a whisper. “Something kept pulling me to him.” She pauses, and sniffles. “I never really loved him, you know. Even way back. I thought I did, but I didn’t.” She looks at Arthur, and he looks down at her at these words. “I thought I did, before I knew what it was to truly love someone,” she says softly, staring directly into Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur?” Merlin prompts.
“Morgana?” he asks Merlin.
“Who else would be so devious, so cruel?”
“And what of… him?”
Delicate. “Well, we’ve been doing some research,” Merlin starts to spin a half-truth. “We think he may have been a shade. A… a walking ghost, so to speak. He was an empty shell, under her control. He was her puppet and she was pulling the strings, making him do her bidding. With Agravaine’s help, of course.”
Merlin takes Gwen’s hand, concerned that Arthur isn’t saying anything to her, and he feels someone should be comforting her.
“Can you prove this bracelet is enchanted?” Arthur asks quietly.
When Merlin hesitates, Arthur jumps. “Please tell me that you can prove it, Merlin! I’m begging you!”
Merlin looks at Arthur. The king’s eyes are glassy, and Merlin realizes that Arthur is trembling, very slightly. He’s just barely holding it together.
“We can prove that the bracelet is enchanted, if you give Gaius permission. He will have to use magic to prove magic,” Merlin says, relying on Arthur’s trust in Gaius and his knowledge of Gaius’ past to allow him to clear Gwen’s conscience and heal Arthur’s heart. Both their hearts.
“It’s definitely enchanted, Gaius,” Merlin had said.
Two guards had been fighting over the bracelet and injured each other in the process. They were brought to Gaius for treatment, and he had confiscated it, suspicious. As soon as the guards were sent away, he sent for Merlin.
They both stare at the silver circle resting on the table. “So Guinevere did not betray Arthur after all,” Gaius says sadly. “I feel terrible.”
“So do I. But it’s nothing compared to how Arthur’s going to feel,” Merlin says. “We have to tell him. They need to know.”
“How? He’s going to want proof,” Gaius asks.
Merlin purses his lips together. “Okay. Here’s what you need to do…”
The trio race through the corridors of the palace, making their way towards Gaius’ chambers, Arthur in the lead. They round a corner and nearly knock Sir Elyan over in their haste.
“Gwen!” Elyan calls out. He has been trying to find her for weeks, but she keeps eluding him.
She keeps walking past as if she does not even see him.
“Gwen!” he tries again, but she keeps walking. “You can’t avoid me forever, you know.”
She stops, turning on her heel to look back at him. Her face is cold, eyes blazing. “Oh? And what makes you think you have done anything deserving my attention, Sir Elyan?” She marches towards him as she speaks, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She spits his title at him like a curse.
“Gwen, I’m sorry…” he starts.
She slaps him. Hard. Elyan is stunned, but not as stunned as Arthur and Merlin, observing from a short distance away.
“Guinevere,” Arthur starts forward, but Merlin puts an arm out, blocking him.
“No, Arthur. This is between them,” he says quietly. Arthur stops and nods mutely, watching through wide blue eyes. I have never seen her like this.
“You’re sorry? You. You of all people. Who stood by you through all your shenanigans, all the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into over the years? Who has defended you again and again? Who came to your aid when no one else would?” Gwen is standing before her brother, small and fierce, glaring at him.
“Gwen…” Elyan tries.
She cuts him off, shouting now. “Who talked the innkeeper out of gutting you when he found you with his daughter? Who gave you money to pay off your gambling debts; your tavern bills? Who covered for you time and time again when Father was looking for you and you were nowhere to be found?”
“You did,” he says, quiet as a mouse.
Just then Leon and Gwaine round the corner, drawn by the noise. The see their queen staring down her brother, fire in her eyes, and they quickly and wisely do an about-face and retreat the way they came.
“Correct,” she says. Elyan seems to be shrinking under her assault. She continues, her voice level and hard as stone. “And who was it that did not come to my aid when I was at my lowest? When I had no one? When I really could have used a friendly face? When the only family I have left could have been the only person that could stand by me and support me? Who was it that stood there and looked at me with disdain on his face? No. Disgust.”
“I did,” he whispers.
“You didn’t need to approve of what I did. Hell, I don’t even approve of what I did. But your actions that day only showed me that you care more about your position as a Knight of Camelot than you do about your own sister.” She is no longer shouting, but her low, measured tone is no less frightening. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, actually. You couldn’t even be bothered to show when our father died, why should I expect you to come my aid, your only sister, when I could have been executed?”
“Ha. Sister,” she continues with a humorless laugh, looking towards the ceiling. Then, looking him square in the eye, she declares, “You no longer have the right to call me ‘sister.’ At least not until you can find a way to make amends.”
Elyan is shocked. She’s disowning me?
When he says nothing, she spins around to walk away again, tears forming in her eyes.
“Gwen, wait!” he finally finds his voice. She stops, but does not turn.
“What?”
“How do I do that? Make amends.”
She looks over her shoulder at him and says, “That is not my concern. You need to figure that out for yourself, Sir Elyan. I am no longer in the business of helping you.”
Elyan stands there, dumbfounded, as he watches his sister walk away from him and into Arthur’s arms. Merlin spares him a glance, but no help. Arthur does not look at him, he only holds his wife to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. She sighs, gently pulls away from him and quickly marches down the corridor, leading the way to Gaius’ room, away from Elyan.
They reach the door, and Merlin opens it, allowing Gwen to enter first. Arthur pauses near his servant. “Merlin,” he quietly says, slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on his wife’s back. “Remind me to never make Guinevere angry.”
Merlin follows Arthur’s gaze and says, “I’ll remind you if you remind me.”
“That’s it?” Gaius says. “Just one word?”
“That’s it,” Merlin nods. “But Gaius. Make it look good. Arthur does know about your past, but he doesn’t know how recently you’ve used magic. So…”
“Ah, add some theatrics, I see. So he thinks I’m rusty.”
“Yes. And find a book. Go down the archives if you have to, but find a book that looks vaguely magical and very old. Surely there must be some books of magic in that archive yet, hidden away, collecting dust.”
“Why don’t I just use yours?”
“No!” Merlin exclaims, before he looks up at Gaius and sees the old man’s eyes twinkling. He is teasing him.
“Go find Arthur and Gwen,” Gaius ushers him out the door and heads to the archives.
Part 6: link
