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Chapter Text

"Merlin," Arthur said and Merlin paused in his sweeping. "Ready the horses and pack our things. I rather feel like hunting."

Merlin did not do either of those things and instead resumed his sweeping. "Mm, alright, if you're sure. Except... the Council meeting is to commence within a couple hours," He reminded the king. "I don't think you'd quite make it back in time."

Arthur stiffened and then let out a low groan. "God, I forgot that was today," Arthur said and sounded like he very much wished that it wasn't; Merlin could relate. Council meetings were dreadful - full of political nothingness and astoundingly boring. Naturally, Arthur made him attend every one.

Still the response was somewhat surprising. "Did you?" Merlin asked because Arthur was usually very on top of things like that. It wasn't often that Arthur didn't have his own schedule memorized dutifully, especially when it came to something that was so involved with the politics of Camelot; Arthur was very much typically prepared for those sort of things.

The king flushed. "I've been... busy."

"Ah." Merlin understood now. Arthur had been preoccupied with the revelation of Merlin having magic - either that or he'd been once again mooning over Guinevere. "Busy."

"Shut up." Arthur looked distinctly embarrassed even though Merlin hadn't even made fun of him. It was rather unfair of Arthur to glare at him when he hadn't actually gotten to say anything worthy of a glare. Merlin rather felt that an opportunity had been wasted. "Just fetch me my lunch," Arthur dismissed him, turning away as if that would hide his embarrassment.

"Will do, Sire." Merlin said and rolled his eyes. As he walked out the chamber door, he parted with a quick, "I'll just tell Gwen you said hello then, shall I?" Because even if Arthur's distraction had been over Merlin, it was always still fun to tease him about Gwen. And he quickly shut the door. Just in time too; the clang of metal smacking against stone was definitely because Arthur had yet again launched his water basin at Merlin's head. Now Merlin would later have to clean up the spilled water and refill it.

He didn't actually end up running into Gwen - he didn't think he would since the castle was so busy and he'd yet to see her in actual days due to the hustle and bustle going on. But, on his way back to Arthur, he did encounter Lancelot, which was equally as effective in cheering him up as Gwen would have been.

"Merlin!" Lancelot smiled and Merlin paused in his walking. Which, being that the corridor they were in was narrower than most and that it was around midday, it was busier than normal. His sudden stop nearly caused a collision. Maids and servants alike all cluttered past them as they spoke. One of them scowled and Merlin scowled right back at him before refocusing his attention on Lancelot.

"Lancelot," Merlin beamed at the knight.

Lancelot softened, his face gentling. "It's good to see you so happy, Merlin."

"Is it?" Merlin asked and then quickly corrected himself. "Er, I mean - am I? I hadn't noticed."

He took the question seriously and examined Merlin's face thoroughly before he nodded. "Yes. It's nice."

Merlin shrugged but then paused when the motion jabbed his arms into a servant passing by. "I really hadn't noticed. Nothing's happened or anything like that, so I can't imagine why."

Lancelot's eyebrows raised. "Truly? You truly cannot imagine why you seem so happy?" Merlin made to answer in the negative but Lancelot continued on. "It's been two days, Merlin. And still you're practically glowing."

Oh. Two days ago had been when Arthur had been told of his magic. Merlin supposed that, yes, perhaps it was still lightening every step he took and made his days easier and warmer. He grinned. "I guess you're right. I am happy. Something did happen. And - and I'm happy."

Lancelot nodded. "Like I said, it looks good on you. It gladdens me to see you so happy, my friend."

Merlin blushed. "I - I appreciate that. Um, is that all you wished to say?"

The knight shook his head. "It looks like everyone's preparing for some sort of feast." His gaze slid pointedly to the many servants squeezing past them.

"Oh!" Merlin remembered. "That's right! It's not for a couple weeks actually but everyone's gone mad with preparations because everyone wants to impress Arthur - it's to celebrate his birthday." Lancelot's eyes lit up in understanding. "There's been - phew, I dunno. About a million rehearsals because between George and Mary and the Head Steward - all of them want everything exactly perfect. I think we've all carted up every single piece of cutlery in the castle's vault for their inspection - and probably for nothing, since I think they're commissioning it new from the silversmith anyways." Merlin rolled his eyes. "Honestly. Arthur may be a prat but even he's not going to be upset because of the silverware not being grand enough. They're all worry-bodies."

"It is his first birthday as king," Lancelot said knowingly. "Perhaps them trying to make it perfect is their way of showing their fealty and loyalty to King Arthur?"

Merlin sighed. "You're right," He grumbled. "But I don't have to like it. I feel like I haven't seen Gwen in days!" Lancelot nodded sympathetically and, embarrassed, Merlin remembered that Lancelot too would be missing her as well. But there wasn't much time to feel awkward about it.

"Lancelot! Merlin!" Gwaine greeted from down the corridor, swiftly squeezed his way through the crowd of servants, and paused to stop beside the two of them as well. The narrow corridor became even more difficult for people to navigate around them, and Merlin now started to feel a bit bad about their ill-placed meeting.

"Hullo, Gwaine." Merlin smiled.

Gwaine triumphantly snatched piece of sliced meat from the platter in Merlin's hands and chewed it. "Is Mary trying a new recipe for her roast?" Gwaine asked. Merlin shrugged. "It tastes different - and not just because it's cold."

"It's cold?" Merlin asked, frowning. He balanced the platter in only one hand and used the other to snatch the piece of roast from Gwaine to feel for himself. "It is cold!" At his distress, Lancelot made a consoling noise, and Gwaine patted him twice upon the shoulder before he recollected the piece of meat from Merlin's fingers and shoved the rest of it into his mouth before it could be snatched again. "I was supposed to bring this to Arthur but now his lunch has gone cold!" Merlin said and stared at the platter in his hands sadly. He hadn't thought he'd taken that long.

"Can't you just - " Gwaine tilted his head back and forth in a weird side to side rocking motion. Confused, Merlin turned to Lancelot who raised his eyebrows and beyond that looked almost suspiciously blank faced.

"Oh!" Merlin realized upon seeing Lance's eyebrows raise with that specific non-expression of an expression that Lancelot wore like a mask when he didn't trust himself not to break into a grin around Merlin's magic. "Well, I mean, yes."

"Right then." Gwaine nodded. "Lancelot, you cover his front."

"What?" Merlin asked; Lancelot asked no question, merely stepped closer in a way that blocked more of Merlin from view than he had been before.

Gwaine casually moved slightly to the side just as a serving girl was there, intercepting her path and causing her to crash into him abruptly. She dropped the tray she had been carrying with a loud clatter; it had been empty except for silverware, which made quite the ruckus on the stone floor and caused a huge resulting wave of the rest of the servants halting abruptly and trying to not collide into each other lest they likewise drop their armfuls. "Oh!" Gwaine exclaimed. "I am so sorry, let me help you with that."

When Merlin watched the proceedings, Lancelot quietly cleared his throat. So while all eyes were on Gwaine and the serving girl both bent over trying to pick up the platter and silverware, Merlin heated up his own platter and watched in satisfaction as the food began to subtly steam. Merlin nearly upended the platter when a loud voice called, "Merlin! There you are!"

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" Merlin asked but it came out sounding a tad bit like an accusation. Was everyone to take this teeny tiny corridor?

"Your Majesty," Lancelot greeted.

"Lancelot." Arthur nodded to him calmly in reply before he turned his gaze back to Merlin, this time annoyed. "Me? What are you doing here? You were supposed to bring me my lunch an hour ago! I had to look through about half the castle before I found you!"

"Why didn't you just go to the kitchens and get it yourself then?" Merlin asked even though he knew the question to be pointless. Arthur would never do that. And, to be honest, Merlin didn't truly expect him to.

"Just give me that," Arthur snapped and grabbed at the pieces of magically reheated sliced roast with one hand. "We don't have time for that anymore. The Council is to start soon."

Both Merlin and Gwaine groaned in dismay. Lancelot clapped a hand upon Merlin's shoulder in silent support and then, with a nod to Arthur, he walked away, likewise clamping his hand down on Gwaine's shoulder as he passed him - leaving them to their doom.

Arthur raised baleful eyebrows at them and with his empty hand he grabbed the roasted potato from the platter in Merlin's hands. He shoved that into his mouth and then grabbed for the pear. "Come on."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Merlin asked and shimmied the platter that still held some bread and cheese.

"I don't know and I don't care." Arthur turned around and began to walk the way whence he came, pear in one hand and fist of roast in the other. "Just come on already."

Merlin looked down at the platter and back up again at Arthur's retreating back. Gwaine helpfully grabbed the bread and cheese and emptied the last of the platter. Merlin paused, looked around the still busy hallway, and began to walk after Arthur. 

Beside him, Gwaine began to snack upon the food he had taken. Once Merlin cleared the corridor that was busiest of servants and maids, he paused conspicuously and Gwaine stepped to his side, immediately in tune with Merlin as he stood to block Merlin from view of the previous corridor. Merlin whispered quietly, his eyes flashed gold, and the platter was gone - hopefully back in the kitchens where it belonged. If not, Merlin wasn't too concerned. 

Merlin grinned at Gwaine and accepted the piece of bread Gwaine offered his now empty and free hands. 

"Merlin!" Arthur called from down the hallway. 

Merlin chewed on the bread and then called out, "I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your horses!" 

Shaking his head, Gwaine was grinning beside him. Merlin grinned back. Lancelot, as ever, was right: he was happier for it now that his friends knew about his magic.

Arthur and some Councilman were going back and forth over what constituted a proper margin for the gross sales of wheat output. Merlin really didn't know how Arthur managed to sound so interested - especially after an hour into the Council meeting already - but, Merlin supposed, that was the burden of being king. Merlin yawned and looked away from the lord who was droning on and on. As he looked around the room, Gwaine caught his attention. He held his goblet aloft and gave it a lazy swirl, eyes locked with Merlin, who frowned.

Technically, Merlin was attending to Arthur and he wasn't supposed to serve anyone else during that task. And during a Council meeting, it was quite different than at a feast. At a feast, no one really cared if Merlin served someone from the same pitcher that he served the king with. During a Council meeting? Suddenly there were rules upon rules and symbolism upon symbolism. Merlin had thought, perhaps, it'd be less that way when Arthur opened the Council meetings to his knights; that was not the case. After the initial excitement, the knights all realized what Merlin had already discovered long ago: Council meetings were boring. Not many knights still attended - and none attended regularly. So the Council etiquette had not shifted one bit into a more casual aura like Merlin had been hoping it would have - which was greatly disappointing since it could really stand to be lightened up. So when Gwaine rattled the empty goblet and then swirled it once more, Merlin couldn't just walk over and refill it for him - despite holding a jug of water in one hand and a flagon wine in the other hand - because those were reserved for the king and were not to be tarnished by sharing because heavens forbid Merlin dishonor the king like that. It was all very particular for reasons Merlin didn't really understand beyond it was the way things always had been done - and that everything in regards to the Council was to be made as stuffy and dull as possible, which included servant decorum unfortunately.

Merlin tried to subtly gesture toward a nearby servant but they were too occupied ensuring that the goblets of actual lords, dukes, and earls remained filled; a commoner knight like Gwaine was placed at the bottom of the rank for them. So Merlin bit his lip and watched as Gwaine swirled the goblet lazily with a laugh upon his mouth like he was teasing Merlin into a punchline for a joke. And Merlin was quite sure he knew what the joke to be.

Falling for the punchline, Merlin turned away to hide his eyes and mouth from the Council and murmured a spell. Gwaine's empty goblet filled itself with water. When Merlin turned back around, Gwaine was grinning even wider. He stopped swirling his now filled goblet and lifted his drink to silently toast it towards Merlin. Merlin bit his lip once again but this time it was to hold in his laugh as Gwaine and him indeed shared the joke as Gwaine took a sip.

Merlin turned, as did the Council, when a messenger was escorted into the chambers by a guard. That never boded well, Merlin thought as the messenger stepped forward.

The interruption to the Council meeting was a relief because Arthur had been rather close to smacking - first - his idiot of a manservant who had just used magic while in a Council meeting and - secondly - the idiot of a Councilman who believed he could fool the king over wheat profit margins of all things. He very much wanted to smack them but, of course, wouldn't. "Your Majesty." The messenger bowed. "I bring news from Lord Belinant." The messenger straightened and then waited; Arthur waved a hand and the messenger proceeded. "The villages surrounding my Lord's estate are being plagued by a terrible beast."

Arthur's spine straightened. "What kind of beast?"

"It appears as a black horse, but no mere horse has ever acted in such a way." The messenger shook his head. "Your Majesty, the horse has dragged people to the water and drowned them."

Well, Arthur thought, that was certainly a new one. Next to him, Merlin hummed under his breath; he often made that low noise when he was thinking and Arthur thought he might be unaware of the habit.

"The horse... drowns them?" Lord Agravaine asked, his tone of voice skeptical but face polite enough to look otherwise. Privately, Arthur agreed with his uncle. It sounded entirely unlikely. But even were it to be true, one irate horse hardly sounded like a plague.

"Yes, m'lord." The messenger answered swiftly, utterly serious.

Arthur glanced around to the faces of his Council - most were impatiently waiting for this nonsense to be dealt with so that they could speak their turn on the matters that were important to them. Some faces did appear mildly alarmed at a threat towards Camelot but not very much so. Most, understandably, looked to be rather bored and that this interruption - although ridiculous - was a relieving intermission.

He looked back to the servant. "Why does Lord Belinant not simply slay the horse?" Arthur asked.

The messenger shook his head. "Your Majesty, many have tried. All have been drowned. It is no mere horse - it is some sort of wretched, magical beast or curse laid upon us. We beg of you to end it."

To Arthur's ear, it sounded highly uninteresting and that, more likely than magic being at work, that those who had tried to defeat the horse were simply not skilled enough - which was probably the reason why they had been thought to be extendable enough to risk in the first place. Still it was the duty of the king to investigate the matters brought forth to them, with no matter to how Arthur personally regarded the issue to be over dramatized.

"Send for Gaius. Tell him a dark horse is drowning people and to come at once with any relevant texts upon it should such a subject have been documented before." Arthur said, and one of the attending servants scrambled to do so, bowing as they exited the room. Merlin hadn't even budged but Arthur hardly expected him to despite being both a servant and close to Gaius; Merlin tended to use the time spent in the council room as a period of rest where he did nothing at all except for, on occasion, mumble snide comments under his breath that Arthur had to pretend not to hear. And when he'd once inquired why Merlin didn't use any opportunity to flee the Council meetings, Merlin had rolled his eyes and had told him that Arthur needed to be kept an eye on - in his own Council room! Arthur had been insulted but Merlin, for once, didn't actually seem to have been intentionally insulting Arthur, which had made the whole thing even more bizarre.

Arthur turned to the messenger. "You may stay here in Camelot until it is decided what's to be done."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The messenger bowed. Arthur waved a hand and a servant approached the messenger, leading him and the guard who had escorted him out of the Council chambers and away for the messenger to be roomed elsewhere.

"You can't honestly believe that a horse is drowning people," Lord Illifer commented with a sneer hiding from underneath his carefully neutral expression of polite distaste that Councilmen tended to wear when they thought themselves to be particularly crafty but weren't.

"I'd remind you that is not your place to command what your king does or does not believe." Arthur took much satisfaction in the way the lord immediately began to verbally trip over himself as he hastened to agree with that statement.

"But do you think a horse could drown people?" Merlin whispered near him.

Arthur sighed and pretended not to have heard him. For all of Merlin's idiocy, he had picked up on the evasiveness of Arthur's answer.

"Prat," Merlin mumbled.

Without looking, Arthur kicked his ankle. And pretended likewise to not hear Merlin's indignant "Hey!"

When the doors opened once more, this time was a much more welcome interruption in Merlin's opinion - although, honestly, all intrusions during Council meetings were welcome because it distracted from how boring they were.

"Ah, Gaius," Arthur greeted and held up his hand to interrupt a duke who was talking about what Merlin thought perhaps was, again, grain output but honestly he had stopped listening to a long time ago and had focused instead on trying not to laugh as Gwaine made silly faces at him while this Councilmen spoke. Gwaine held a particular dislike for this Councilman because he was long winded in his simpering addresses to the king and took ages to say anything at all because of how long he took to finish lauding all of Arthur's titles and heroic deeds; Merlin couldn't blame Gwaine not one bit, for pulling so many faces during his speeches.

Gaius approached with a nod of his head and with a book in his hands. Merlin craned his neck to see which book but it didn't look very familiar from the angle he was looking. "Your Majesty," Gaius hesitated. "I'm afraid your sources are quite right. This, perhaps, is no mere horse. I fear it is a magical beast, the one called a kelpie."

"And what, exactly, is a kelpie?" Arthur asked. Gaius looked to Merlin and then looked back to Arthur; Merlin was starting to get a bad feeling about this. He probably should have guessed from the very moment the messenger had arrived, but he had been somewhat foolishly optimistic that, for once, it wouldn't turn out to be a big deal.

Gaius brought forth the tome he held in his hands and opened it to a page marked by a ribbon. "If you look here, Sire, it is said to be a black horse said to drown people, Sire. That is all that is known of it."

"Yes," Arthur sighed. "I can see how that would sound similar to what has been described." He leaned forward to peer at the book with a frown. Merlin, likewise peering, finally recognized the book. That was one of Gaius' many 'magic is evil' books that looked to Merlin somewhat like all that was left of magical books in Camelot - except Merlin had assumed that those books were supposed to be secret, since they did talk about magic even if in a firm stance against it. So it was a little weird to actually see the book during the light of day - and in front of Arthur and the Council no less. 

"I beg your pardon for interrupting, Your Majesty," One of the lords said, "But how is it that the Court Physician owns a magical artifact such as that? Should it not be destroyed? For the sake of our kingdom? Suppose an enemy acquired that type of sorcerous book! It seems too dangerous to be left alone with an old man."

Merlin bristled. Gaius had already been accused of being a traitor by Agravaine - and had been cleared from the accusation. Wasn't that enough to satisfy the Court? Admittedly, he himself had just wondered if Gaius was supposed to have shown that book - but still!

Gaius, not Arthur, was the one who answered. "This is no magical artifact. This book was constructed per the request of the late King Uther himself. During the Great Purge, King Uther wanted to ensure that knowledge of how to defeat magic was not lost and inscribed my assistance to document such knowledge. However, if you are suggesting that a book ordered into existence by King Uther to further the fight against magic should be destroyed in the name of Camelot, well by all means. Who am I but an old man? I shall not stop you." Gaius held out the book in offering and waited expectantly with an upraised eyebrow. The lord blustered but did not accept the book, obviously not wanting to be the one who disrespected an order of the late king.

"Gaius," Arthur said, and he was entirely focused like the interruption had not even occurred. Either that or he was stubbornly ignoring that it had. Honestly, Merlin could have believed either of him because Arthur was truly like that. "Lord Belinant's estate and the villages surrounding it all have suffered. Is there any body of water that connect between them?"

The old man paused to think. "I'm not sure."

Arthur crooked a finger and a servant immediately stepped forward. "Fetch me a map." The servant bowed and immediately left to do so. Servants in Council meetings did an outstandingly large amount of bowing, in Merlin's opinion.

"The Council is dismissed for the day." Arthur ordered. "Merlin, fetch me the knights."

"Er? All of them, Sire?" Merlin asked while the Council clamored, stunned at the abrupt and early dismissal, but didn't make any move to actually leave. 

"Of course not all of them," Arthur scoffed,  "Just - fetch me whoever you can find." When Merlin turned to leave, Arthur added a quick, "Just gather the Knights of the Round Table."

Merlin smirked. "Whatever you say, Sire."

"You're rather quick, Merlin," Gwaine said languidly. "Why, there's already one knight you've gathered here." He gestured to his own chest with a smile.

Merlin snickered even though the joke hadn't truly been all that funny. It was just - with the way Gwaine smiled, it was hard not to laugh.

Merlin gathered the Knights of the Round Table before the Court had cleared out. It spoke of how quickly he had found them and of how slow the Court was to do anything at all. They did love so to drag things out something terrible, which was another reason why Merlin hated attending Court sessions.

While Gaius and Arthur argued, the knights settled in their seats and still a majority of the Court conspicuously remained; Merlin now suspected that they wanted to eavesdrop upon the meeting they were excluded from. Except, Merlin knew, Arthur's intentions hadn't been to exclude the Council but were to instead focus on solving the issue at hand without further delays - which the Council was known for. But most of the Councilmen seemed to have taken it as a personal slight and made no move to leave - or, if they did, lingered for no purpose that was apparent beyond eavesdropping just behind Arthur's range of vision. 

Arthur again either ignored them in his intensity and focus or pretended to out of stubbornness. It was almost admirable.

"Your Majesty," Gaius was saying demurely, "I'm afraid that even with your best knights, this is to be an impossible task."

"There must be something we can do!" Arthur argued. "These are my people that require aid - Camelot villages are asking for my help. I can't turn them aside."

Gaius cautioned and pointed to the map. "These villages require aid, that is true, but we simply cannot provide it." Merlin winced as he studied all the villages marked by the attacks. "There isn't much we can do, Your Majesty. The kelpie not just a horse - it is a being of magic and can only be defeated by magic."

Merlin became aware that someone held their gaze upon him with such burning intensity that he could feel it, so he looked up. Except it wasn't just one person; Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon were all staring at Merlin. Expectantly. The three of them stared with no regards to subtlety or discretion. And they seemingly had forgotten that Merlin's magic was a secret. Because they were staring as if they were all waiting for him to proclaim in front of the knights and all of the lingering Councilmen alike that oh wait! There was something they could do about the magical creature that could only be defeated by magic! Because Merlin had magic!

And so Merlin ignored the three gazes fixed upon him and, pulling inspiration from Arthur, pretended not to notice because Arthur wasn't the only one who knew how to be stubborn after all.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Ahem," He cleared his throat pointedly and all refocused their attention back to him. But then he didn't actually say anything. Merlin again felt the heat of at least one knight's gaze but willfully ignored it.

"Perhaps we might try," Lancelot suggested at last, the first of the knights to have spoken. "We don't know for certain that it is indeed a kelpie. Perhaps it is just a wild horse or something else that can be felled by non-magical means."

Merlin, above all, was thankful for Lancelot. At least he knew not to be a total cabbagehead about Merlin's magic.

"That is very true," Gaius agreed. "And for our sake - and for the sake of those villages - I do hope you're right."

Arthur sighed. "Let us start from the beginning and evaluate the situation from all angles, especially now that the knights are here to hear it."

"Very well." Gaius nodded. And, upon hearing that nothing interesting truly was happening beyond that which they already knew, the Councilmen at last began to disperse.

And so Arthur, Gaius, and the knights discussed the situation while Merlin pretended that Gwaine, Arthur, and Leon weren't occasionally sending him looks so very expectantly; they came to no satisfactory conclusion and Arthur declared they'd reconvene upon the morning.

"You're going to get me in trouble!" Merlin accused as soon as he and Arthur were back in Arthur's chambers. Arthur flushed but didn't deny it.

Arthur's voice was stern and low, and he spoke like he was lecturing an errant Councilman or knight about honor and duty. "I was only thinking of my people - Camelot's people - out there suffering while you could prevent it - "

Merlin was uninterested in the lecture and cut him off. "I can't prevent anything at all if people think I'm a sorcerer and call for my execution!"

"You're being dramatic," Arthur said like the utter idiot he was. But he stopped his lecturing, so Merlin considered it a victory.

However, he had a new problem. "Dramatic?" Merlin gaped. "Arthur, it's only been two days you've known about my magic and already you've almost mentioned it in the Council chambers in front of everyone. I'm not being dramatic at all."

"I didn't mention it! And hang on, it wasn't just me!" Arthur protested, no longing arguing which meant that he had come to realize Merlin to be right but would never admit it.

"Yes, well, obviously I'm going to yell at them too. Gwaine and Leon - and you! - were not subtle at all! Not one bit!" Annoyed, Merlin threw up his hands.

"Hang on!" Arthur scowled. "Did you just say Leon? How the hell does Leon know about your magic?"

Genuinely surprised, Merlin blinked. "I didn't tell you?"

Arthur stretched his jaw in the way that he did when he was very close to running out of patience. "No. You didn't."

Merlin avoided answering the original question. "That is strange. I really thought I had."

Arthur inhaled slowly, irritated at being ignored, jaw still rather tense. "Merlin. How does Leon know about you - and is going to be a problem?"

He shrugged. "It should be fine, I think."

"You... think. You don't know but you think." Arthur let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha! Oh well that's good then. Because you think! And here I was beginning to doubt that you thought at all!"

He didn't know what Arthur expected. He couldn't be entirely sure of course that Leon wasn't a problem. In fact, he probably should actually talk to Leon about the whole magic thing. But he was putting that off for obvious reasons. Besides that, he was well used to Arthur insinuating that he didn't think, so none of what had been said actually bothered him. Merlin rolled his eyes. "He found out when I told Gwaine, okay? It's not a big deal. He said it was poetry."

"You - " Arthur broke off, abruptly deflating in his loud temper like a pot going from a rolling boil to a simmer that was still very hot but was just quieter once pulled off the fire. "You make no sense, absolutely none." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe you could be so stupid."

"Me?" Merlin let out a noise of protest. "You're the ones giving me looks during Council!"

Arthur stopped rubbing at the bridge of his nose and glared imperiously at him. "You need to be more careful. We both do," Arthur added on before Merlin could rebut.

Merlin shook his head. "I am careful! You're the one who's going to get me in trouble, I just know it. All these years I've managed not to get executed but you? You can't even last two days with my secret, Arthur! Two days!"

"No one," Arthur emphasized slowly, "Is going to execute you. I am king and my word is law."

There was something comforting in hearing it explicitly stated that Arthur would prevent his execution should it come to that - especially in such an assured and powerful tone - but Merlin didn't stop to examine the feeling. "You're still going to get me in trouble with Gaius!"

"Gaius?" He asked, perplexed. "What's he got to do with anything?"

"He doesn't know that you know about my magic!"

Arthur exhaled, sounding supremely frustrated. "Let me see if I've got this right, shall I? Not only does Leon know about it - but now Gaius also knows about your magic? Is that right?" He waited for Merlin to nod in confirmation before he continued. "Alright fine. Gaius knows. Now tell me this - you are aware that I know about your magic, yes?" Merlin nodded yet again at the frankly stupid question. "I don't see the problem here." Merlin scoffed and Arthur continued. "If Gaius knows about your magic, then why should it be kept from him that I know about it as well?"

"I'm not supposed to have told you!" Merlin informed him. "You're not supposed to know!"

"Merlin," Arthur said, exasperated, "I do know. So you don't have to keep it from Gaius. It doesn't make any sense to do that."

"Yes it does!" Merlin protested. Because it did. Arthur just was too thick to realize it. "He's going to yell at me!"

Arthur blinked. Then he sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, and hid his face in his hand. "Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot." At that, Merlin scoffed. "Besides, you can hardly yell at me for getting you in trouble when earlier you were using magic in a crowded corridor in broad daylight - twice, might I add! - and in the Council chambers. Of all the places!"

"Oh... you saw that?" Merlin realized, more than a bit caught out. He felt oddly guilty having yelled at Arthur for being too negligent with the secret of Merlin's magic when he himself had done that and Arthur knew he had done it.

"Which time?" Arthur asked sarcastically and then his face settled from annoyance into a serenity that immediately made Merlin suspicious. "You know what? I think you deserve to be yelled at by Gaius," Arthur said calmly. "I ought to tell him how reckless you are with your magic."

"Arthur, don't you dare - "

Arthur seemingly ignored him and turned, walking away. Presumably to tell Gaius. Which left Merlin with only one choice really. Arthur shrieked when Merlin jumped upon his back and threw his arms around his neck to hold on. "What the hell - "

"You can't tell Gaius!" Merlin shouted over him. "Promise you won't and I'll get off you!"

"Merlin, so help me - " Arthur began to threaten and tried to twist to reach behind him in an attempt to dislodge Merlin, who clung tighter to his neck and in addition threw his legs around Arthur's hips in a vice. "Merlin, you idiot! Let go!" Arthur tried for a new strategy and pulled at Merlin's hands, focusing on removing the grip upon his neck instead of reaching behind him.

"Promise you won't!"

"Merlin!" 

Arthur spun wildly, trying to fling Merlin off of him. The maneuver only succeeded in causing Merlin to accidentally choke Arthur as well as kick him in the ribs. 

"Er, sorry!" Merlin shouted over Arthur's sounds of exertion and mild pain as he continued to try and pry Merlin off of him, still spinning while doing so. Merlin tried to strangle him a little less but it was hard while Arthur spun so.

"If you're so sorry," Arthur yelled, "Then get off of me!"

"Um!" The two of them froze - and a wave of dizziness came over them at their sudden standstill, causing Arthur to sway before he steadied them -  and Arthur turned them both around to face the open door of his chambers where Gwen stood. "I did knock."

"Of course you did," Arthur agreed, sounding deeply caught off guard. Merlin stared at Gwen wide eyed and, equally as wide eyed, she stared right back.

Arthur cleared his throat. And then he spoke regally, and he completely ignored Merlin's presence that was still clinging on to his person. "Was there something that you needed, Guinevere?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course." She shook her head, as if that was the only way to break the incredulous eye contact between her and Merlin. "Gaius was asking around for you, Merlin. I, er, assumed you'd be here." 

"Well I am, so, you were right," Merlin nodded and then said "Ouch!" as his chin collided with Arthur's shoulder when he nodded too vigorously.

"Gwen," Arthur said, still very composed. "Could you excuse us for just one moment?"

"Of course," Gwen agreed hastily.

"Thank you." Arthur replied calmly while she near ran out the chamber door, pulling it closed behind her retreat.  Arthur waited a second - as if to ensure that she really was gone - and then he let out a mighty bellow and threw himself backwards at his bed. Startled, Merlin let out a shriek.

"Oof!" Merlin unsuccessfully tried to scramble away from the sudden weight of Arthur on top of him. "Get off! You're too heavy!" He was smashed underneath Arthur's back and couldn't manage to free himself from the position, no matter how he squirmed and thrashed. He couldn't actually thrash all that much because he felt like a butterfly trapped underneath an entomologist pinning its wings; also he couldn't quite exert that much power because of the restrictions on his limbs and because Arthur had knocked the wind out of him and Merlin was having a hard time getting it back while thrashing and with a heavy weight on top of him.

Arthur waited a moment - obviously and deliberately so - as he let the full weight of his body smother Merlin in revenge. And then, because he was a complete and total arse, he rose upwards long enough for Merlin to take a full breath in - only then to sit on Merlin.

"What the hell!" Merlin shoved up at him but Arthur couldn't be budged. "You can't just sit on me! I'm not a chair!"

"On the contrary, Merlin," Arthur argued and without even looking smacked Merlin's hand away when Merlin tried to jab his fingers into Arthur's side in an attempt to dislodge him. "I can do whatever I like." Arthur's back was to him and thus Merlin couldn't see his face - but he still knew that he was wearing a stupidly smug expression.

"You're a prat!" Merlin tried to lift his right knee up to upset Arthur's balance but it was much too pinned under Arthur's own legs.

"Arthur." Merlin tried to reason with him. "Arthur, come on, Gaius is looking for me."

Arthur was utterly unmoved by reason. Which, really, Merlin guessed that he should have expected that, since Arthur was typically left unmoved by reason. "Then I suppose Guinevere can fetch him and bring him here, now can't she?"

Merlin groaned. "Come on already! You're heavy!"

"I'm not that heavy," Arthur countered and obviously felt absolutely no guilt about the whole situation.

Merlin wondered for how long Arthur was planning on sitting on him. Because, yes, Merlin had jumped on his back, but he hadn't sat on Arthur! Honestly this was ridiculous and - and petty! Merlin tried again to free his legs but couldn't. He shoved at Arthur's back with his hands but Arthur wasn't to be budged at all. Merlin flopped down on the bed and stared up at the embroidered canopy, exasperated. And then... And then Merlin paused. He raised his hands once again - except this time he didn't shove at Arthur. This time, he used magic.

Arthur was sent forward off the bed in an ungraceful heap. "Ow?" Arthur said, sounding annoyed and slightly confused from where he was sprawled out on the floor. He sat up and glared at Merlin, who was still perched upon the bed but now was sitting up instead of being squashed by a king. "What the hell was that?"

"I - you know." Merlin let the warmth of his magic flood through him, let the gold of his eyes speak for himself as words failed him.

Arthur's expression twisted into something strange and unfamiliar for one second but then it shifted. Shifted into something confused and irritated and - and Merlin smiled. Because that? That was Arthur's expression when he was annoyed with Merlin and was trying to stay annoyed but despite himself couldn't help but to be somewhat fond of Merlin's antics. "You used your magic to shove me off the bed?" Arthur asked, pretending to scowl as a smile began to creep into the corner of his lips.

"That's right." Merlin nodded. "How else was I supposed to move you?"

Arthur snorted and then quickly fixed his expression into 'annoyed' once more but Merlin saw straight through it. "You idiot! Gwen is right outside! What if she had come back in again?"

Honestly, Merlin hadn't even considered that. "Well," He said at last. "I've it on good standing that the king would be willing to pardon me should I be accused of sorcery."

The annoyance on Arthur's face turned genuine. "You are unbelievable!" And Merlin was; so he picked up one of the vast amounts of pillows from Arthur's bed and used magic to propel it right at Arthur's face, using enough force that Arthur toppled over with a surprised grunt.

When Gwen peaked her head into the room, Merlin and Arthur were shouting and laughing as they alternated between launching throw pillows at each other and using the pillows to whack each other in the face. She let out a snort, clapped her hands over her mouth and nose to smother it, and then retreated whence she came to tell Gaius that Merlin was a bit busy, smiling all the way.

Chapter Text

Merlin and Arthur both were rather rumpled when they came to a truce and stopped their siege upon each other.

"I can't remember the last time the two of us laughed so hard," Arthur said in breathless wonder as he laid sprawled out across the floor and surrounded by pillows.

Merlin, slumped against the wooden post of Arthur's bed, appeared to think about it. "Yeah, me neither." He said at last, with a shrug and a brilliant smile.

Arthur huffed out a pleased breath. It delighted him to have Merlin for a friend, and every time he saw Merlin's wide and giddy smile, it felt like victory. The most honorable victory where none were to lose at all at the expense of Arthur's triumph. Arthur often thought that Merlin's smiles came easier than anything, but that this smile - this smile - it was hard won and only achieved by sound strategy and persistence. This smile was Arthur's favorite. Merlin typically looked at him like Arthur wasn't his prince, wasn't his king; he also now looked to Arthur like the two of them were equals sharing in the giddy delight of each other with a breathless joy so vast that it could not physically be contained within their mortal bodies, their abundant happiness spilling from their very flesh and pouring out in each laugh, every grin, because it was too much to keep within - that it could go nowhere but out and to each other.

Merlin smiled at him like he was happy. It was Arthur's favorite smile. And not just because it meant that he himself was happy too - although he was; any time he saw Merlin so happy, he couldn't help but to share in that happiness with him, even if he did not outwardly express it and kept that joy privately to himself.

With the revelation of Merlin's magic, a small part of him had admittedly been worried that things might change between them. It was a relief to know that although things perhaps indeed had changed as all things were apt to do, Merlin was still the same as ever. Things would always change, but the important things would not: Merlin was his manservant, it gave Arthur both peace and chaos to have Merlin around, and - above all - Arthur knew how to make Merlin laugh and how to find joy in the sound of it, knew how to find a fierce and deep pride at having been the one to cause Merlin such happiness.

"You know," Arthur said to his friend. "You're going to have to clean that all up." He gestured to the floor strewn with pillows.

Merlin laughed, his smile tinged with disbelief but still as merry as ever. "If you think you're not helping," He warned Arthur, "Then you've got another thing coming. Sire." Arthur threw back his head and laughed. "I'm not kidding!" Merlin added on, sounding so joyous that it could easily be misconstrued that he was indeed kidding. Truly, Merlin could have been either serious or not; he was too insolent to think that the king should be except from having to pick up his own pillows and too devoted of a servant to actually make Arthur pick up the pillows.

"I know." He said even though he did not entirely know for certain - because he knew Merlin even if he didn't know his particular intentions in this moment regarding the pillows - because he knew where Merlin's heart was to be at and that was what truly was important. Arthur may not always understand Merlin - in fact, often did not - but he understood him, the most blessed of contradictions. Arthur chuckled. "Of course you're not kidding. Because you are the very worst servant that I've ever had." Which was and was not a lie all at once in itself.

He was, Arthur thought in quiet honest to himself, the very best friend that he'd ever had.

Merlin had finally caught his breath from the exertion and laughter and had just risen and started to pick the pillows up to rearrange them where they ought to be when Arthur stood and opened the chamber door.

"Where are you going?" Merlin asked and used his arm to gesture toward the many pillows strewn all over the room and floor as if to exemplify why Arthur shouldn't be leaving anywhere at all until they were set to rights. He knew Arthur wouldn't probably pick them up and would leave it to Merlin to clean, but he couldn't resist teasing Arthur over it by insinuating that he expected the king to assist his servant.

"You." Arthur said to someone outside the door that Merlin couldn't see from his position deep inside of the room. "I want you to get Sir Gwaine, Sir Lancelot, and Sir Leon. Bring them here."

Puzzled, Merlin cocked his head and tried to parse out why those knights needed to be gathered. "Why them?" Merlin asked. "And you just saw them during the whole - " He wasn't sure on what to call it. "Post Council meeting."

Arthur sighed and closed his chamber door. Which was not an answer.

Merlin dropped his armful of pillows upon the bed, and one bounced off and slid to the stone floor. Disdainfully he eyed that pillow, which laid innocently upon the stone floor instead of where it ought to be, and he huffed in annoyance.

"You know..." Arthur drawled as he pulled forth a chair from his table and sat down in it. "You could always just..." He motioned his head side to side and trailed off expectantly like that was a complete sentence that Merlin should be able to understand.

Unfortunately, it was and Merlin did. It was so irritating! "Why does everyone do that?" He grumbled as he outstretched his hands and lifted the remaining pillows with his magic, eyes flashing gold as he set them upon the bed with just a thought of intention. "Gwaine does that and now you're off doing it too."

Arthur looked away from where his gaze had settled in fascination upon the pillows now rearranging themselves to where they ought to be. "What's that?"

"You and Gwaine." Merlin said again and then ostentatiously repeated the ridiculous side to side head wiggle that both Gwaine and Arthur had irritatingly employed as innuendo for Merlin using magic. It didn't even make sense, and Merlin didn't understand how the two of them had separately both come up with doing it. "I don't see how it has anything to do with magic but you both do it. If anything, I'd think it'd be more - " Mockingly, Merlin wiggled his fingers in a quite silly manner. "Since I use my hands to do it and all."

Rather than laughing, Arthur let out an amused exhale of breath; he rather liked to pretend he didn't find it funny when Merlin poked fun at him and that by exhaling instead of laughing it was less of an acquiescence to have been being mocked, but Merlin knew better. "Fair point." Then, because he was a prat, Arthur repeated the motion with his fingers and raised his eyebrows at Merlin like he'd just been very, very clever. 

Half annoyed and half amused, Merlin let out a huff. And then he said, "Fleoge," and all of the pillows that had just been fixed all went flying - straight at Arthur, who was left looking ridiculous at the cushioned assault.

Predictably, Arthur did not find it as amusing as he did. "Merlin!" He yelled and smacked away at the pillows, nearly toppling out of his chair while doing so.

Merlin laughed so hard that he hardly even heard the insults Arthur threw at him. With a flash of gold eyes and a wave of his hand, the pillows harmlessly rose and neatly floated to the bed and sorted themselves accordingly once more. This time, Arthur did not stare at them in wonder - because, instead, he was too busy glowering at Merlin.

"Just so we're all clear and there is to be no misunderstanding among us," Arthur said and leveled a stern glare at each of the knights gathered in his chambers and seated around his table. Merlin too was seated and had not been glared at - which, Merlin thought jocundly, was indeed a nice change up from the reverse where Arthur solely glared at him, which was the more typical norm. "Nothing that is to be said here tonight behind these chamber doors should be repeated to anyone else."

Gwaine was the first one to make the connection. Perhaps because he was the only one besides Arthur who also knew that Leon knew about Merlin and thus could observe how the four knights, Merlin, and private information all together could be led to that conclusion. "This is about the kelpie and Merlin then." Which, Merlin realized, made sense and was probably indeed why Arthur had gathered them - and how he had selected who to gather.

In response, Leon noticeably frowned at Gwaine before his gaze flickered over to Lancelot, then to Merlin, and then landed on Arthur in one swift motion. Then he cleared his throat. "Your Majesty," He said slowly, "Did you not conclude that we would reconvene in the morning to strategize with the others?"

It dawned on Merlin then that the knight was under the impression that Gwaine and Leon were the only two that knew of Merlin's magic. He was, thought Merlin in quiet disbelieving awe, trying to keep Gwaine from revealing the secret to the rest of the room. It was kind of funny, actually, since earlier Leon had looked at him like Arthur and Gwaine had - as if they thought Merlin would publicly reveal his secret when they'd been discussing the kelpie in the Council chambers -  and the humor of that juxtaposition in Leon's defense of the secret now was not lost upon Merlin.

"I did," Arthur agreed because apparently he didn't see what Leon was getting at - which was actually Leon's point, Merlin supposed, if Leon was trying to keep the magic a secret. It was nice of him but completely absurd and Merlin wasn't about to watch the two of them dance around the topic all night when he could put an end to it; he had learned that the hard way with Gwaine and Arthur's mistaken belief that the other had magic. Merlin really should have spoken up sooner and saved himself all the headaches and stress, and he was not going to go through it all over again. Although, he supposed, it was a bit different since Leon wasn't under the impression that Arthur had magic like Gwaine had been. In any case, Merlin was going to set it to sorts and not let it further grow because he'd learned that lesson thank you very much.

"It's alright," He blurted out, and Arthur's face scrunched in confusion while Leon stared at him in quiet skepticism as Lancelot and Gwaine looked on the whole thing with mild curiosity. "Everyone here knows."

Lancelot's head tilted slightly to the side and he frowned thoughtfully. Which, right, Merlin had forgotten to tell him about Leon. Lancelot's expression shifted from passive to somewhat concerned. Which was understandable. Merlin supposed that he ought to clear that up as well.

"Everyone... knows?" Arthur repeated, like he didn't have any clue as to what Merlin was getting at. And really that was just like Arthur. Merlin huffed.

Sarcastically, Merlin jiggled his head side to side while simultaneously wiggling his fingers. And - absurdly - everyone at the table understood the innuendo immediately. Which was ridiculous because neither motions looked anything like using magic!

"Oh!" Lancelot eyed Leon with blossoming understanding. "That's a new development."

Leon, whose shoulders had slumped in relief, nodded. "You as well?"

"Nah," Gwaine answered for him. "Lancelot's known the whole time apparently. Lucky bastard." At Lancelot's frown, Gwaine amended himself; Lancelot didn't look upset but Gwaine had obviously sensed that he hadn't enjoyed being dubbed as such. "Lucky... not-bastard." The mentioned not-bastard let out a quiet snort at the clumsy epitaph, and Gwaine appeared satisfied with that result.

"Now, hang on," Arthur interrupted, face pinched in confusion as his knights chuckled, "What is going on here?" For once, Merlin really couldn't blame him for being confused since this wasn't going exactly the way Merlin had thought it would.

Immediately Leon sobered and seemed to blanch. "No no, it's alright!" Merlin assured him. "Arthur knows."

His blanching turned to a practiced neutrality before Leon eyed the king warily. "...Really?"

"Recent development," Lancelot explained to him, quoting his own earlier words to him, and which the mild jest soothed Leon enough to get his lips to quirk upwards.

Arthur still looked baffled but Merlin clapped his hands once together to draw everyone's attention and continued before anyone else could. "Great! Now that we all have that settled, we can get to it."

"What exactly are we getting at?" Lancelot asked and Leon nodded in agreement.

Merlin pointed to Gwaine. "The kelpie."

"Knew it." Gwaine inclined his head towards himself in smugness. He settled in his chair to a more lazy slouch.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes, well!" He took charge of the conversation with great deliberation. "Gaius said the creature can only be defeated by magic. As such, we have someone who then can defeat it."

"With magic," Merlin added helpfully.

"Yes," Arthur said with a stiffly annoyed jaw, "With magic. Thank you for that, Merlin."

Merlin was glad to help. "Anytime."

"I've been thinking about that since Gaius first said it could only be taken down by way of magic." Gwaine agreed. "The immediate conclusion would be to go to Merlin and obviously he'd defeat it."

At that, Merlin preened just a bit. It was so nice to have people beyond Gaius and Lancelot give him the credit he was due. He was used to going unpraised for his deeds so it didn't bother him anymore - but it was so nice to be praised before he had even done anything when typically he'd not get the chance to be applauded at all.

Arthur frowned. "Hang on, now that I think about it - why were you even at the Council meeting?" Arthur asked him. To be honest, earlier during the Council, Merlin had wondered the same.

"You did extend the Council to include the knights," Leon reminded the king in such a polite voice that it would be easy to mistake it for not having been sarcastic; Merlin knew better and he grinned.

Clearly Arthur was also well used to Leon's sarcasm. Merlin greatly enjoyed that he gave Leon a look he usually reserved solely for Merlin. Still, his voice was much more level than whenever he spoke to Merlin after Merlin had succeeded in annoying him. "Yes, I know. But I hardly thought that Gwaine would want to attend."

Gwaine blinked and then the beginnings of an amused smile began to stretch on his face. "Well you're right about that: I don't want to attend. If I could go the rest of my life without attending another Council meeting, I'd be the luckiest man alive. You haven't realized? The Round Table Knights all take a rotation."

Evidently Arthur hadn't realized, as his face lit up in surprise. But neither had Merlin, so he completely understood. "What?" Merlin asked and tried to wrack his brain of the past Council meetings to remember if that could be true or not. But they tended to all blur because they were all so boring and lengthy that, beyond today's, he couldn't really actually recollect previous meetings one way or another.

Gwaine chuckled; Lancelot explained. "We figured you ought to have someone you can trust in there - the both of you. But obviously no one wants to have to attend. Thus, we take turns at the duty."

Arthur looked torn between feeling somewhat touched and feeling annoyed. Rather than to feel an actual emotion, Merlin guessed that Arthur's annoyance would win out. He was right. "The Council," The king stressed, "Is an honor. It should not be treated like some loathed chore that gets passed among you all."

"Arthur," Merlin said pointedly, "Just today you were complaining about having to attend Council."

Arthur flushed, caught out, while his knights stared at him in mild amusement. "Yes, well, as true as that may be, it is still an honor."

"Sure," Leon agreed. "An honor. But, perhaps, a rather boring one."

"Hear hear!" Gwaine grinned and banged his hand jovially upon the table. Even Lancelot quite obviously agreed.

Sometimes - though not often - even Arthur knew when to give in; he sighed. "You know what? I don't care. Let's move on." 

"Right," Lancelot nodded. "The beast."

Leon made a soft noise of contemplation. 

"So how do we do this then?" Arthur asked with a frown.

"Well, if it is a magical beast..." Lancelot said slowly and looked toward Merlin. "It stands to reason that we need Merlin's assistance to defeat it."

"Oh great," Arthur grumbled, as if he hadn't called them all together for this secret meeting in his chambers to discuss exactly that. "Merlin?" He looked towards Merlin as well. With the attention from all four knights, Merlin felt much like he had earlier during when the three knights had so terribly unsubtlely stared at him - but this time with Lancelot joined in and no room full of others to catch on that there was a reason for all the staring.

"Well I usually just wait for everyone to be distracted and then I just." He again wiggled his head and fingers as if it demonstrated the usage of magic - it was actually a catchy motion and Merlin regretted ever having mockingly done it because now he supposed that he'd have a hard time not doing it because it truly was already something that he was becoming to associate with the discussion of his magic. Now that there was less tension in the room than there had been initially earlier, Gwaine's lips curled upwards in amusement at him performing the gestures. Which Merlin thought to be slightly unfair since Merlin hadn't laughed at him when he had gestured with his head as innuendo for the use of magic. But since the motion was absurdly comical, Merlin understood why Gwaine was laughing at him. "Sometimes though I have to sneak away in the middle of night to do much of anything. That's the worst though because you always wake me up when I fall asleep on my horse, so I'd like to avoid that one if possible."

Arthur seethed. "That's a terrible plan! Wait until we're distracted? Sneak away at night and go alone? So that no one knows if anything happened to you until it was too late?"

"I've been doing this for years," Merlin reminded him with a frown. Honestly, it wasn't like this was his first time or his first year even of having done this.

"That's a fair point," Gwaine agreed, and Arthur redirected his scowl from Merlin to Gwaine, who held up both palms as if to better ward off Arthur's ire.

Merlin tried to soothe him. "Besides, sometimes I do take Lancelot with me." It wasn't very often but it wasn't, exactly, a lie either.

Not soothed at all, Arthur twitched and made to berate him some more but then he paused. "Wait a moment," He said, facial expression frozen in some weird mix of anger and epiphany, and in the next moment only realization was alight in his eyes instead of anger. "Did you kill the griffin?"

"Well," Merlin grinned and shrugged bashfully. "I only helped a bit. Lancelot really was the one who truly killed it."

For whatever reason, Arthur scowled at that answer.

"He's being modest." Lancelot corrected, and Merlin blushed as Lancelot gazed upon him with the uttermost earnest and respect; such a look was praise enough - but coming from Lancelot of all people heightened the effect, and Merlin felt terribly honored by it. "Without him, the griffin would still be alive."

Clearly unable to be happy either way, Arthur's scowl deepened at that answer. There truly was no pleasing him sometimes, was there?

"You know what?" Gwaine said and rubbed at his chin, staring between Merlin and Lancelot in consideration. "I'm realizing that the both of you probably have some very interesting stories."

"Oh loads," Merlin agreed easily, nodding quickly, and Leon too began to appeared interested.

"I'd love to hear them sometime." Leon admitted, and Gwaine pointed enthusiastically at the knight, which Merlin took as his way of agreeing with what Leon had said.

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Arthur interrupted. "The giant horse terrorizing the country that must be defeated by magic? Or am I the only one who's remembered?"

The jovial mood dropped.

Leon cleared his throat. "Sire. Why don't we divide the order of knights into separate parties?" He proposed. "Several parties consisting of just a few men, each set out to a different village until we locate the kelpie. Only those who know of Merlin's magic ride with him. Then there is no need to hide or sneak away during the night when Merlin needs to, ah, use his magic."

Arthur considered for a moment and then nodded. "It's a solid plan. However, it depends on one thing. How do we insure Merlin goes to whatever village the beast may be at when we don't know which village that is?"

They all paused.

He had an idea but Arthur wasn't going to like it. "You're going to yell at me for saying this, I just have a feeling." Merlin said. "But what if at night I snuck away and scouted a few of the villages before any - "

"No!"

Merlin sighed. "I just knew you were going to yell at me."

"What is it with you and wanting to sneak away in the night!" Arthur cried out. 

"It's effective," Merlin muttered petulantly. It had worked plenty of times and Arthur had never had an issue with it before. Granted, Arthur had never actually known that Merlin was doing it - but that was beside the point, since Merlin had still done it. 

"What if I went with him?" Leon offered. Merlin's head swiveled to look at him in surprise.

And, amazingly, Arthur seemed to be considering it. "Perhaps..." But his frown was vexed and still mostly unconvinced. He twisted the ring upon his finger and his brow wrinkled into disconcerted lines.

Leon's face was terribly still and serious. "I will protect him, Your Majesty. You have my word on that." 

The deep lines of worry scrunched into Arthur's forehead remained but he at last stopped twisting his ring. Knowing what that meant, Merlin scowled. "You won't let me go but you will if I take Leon? That's hardly fair. I don't need to be babysat, Arthur. Don't you trust me?"

Worry turned into peevishness. "I hardly trust you not to accidentally wander off a cliff!" Arthur said, which Merlin thought to be an extremely unjust accusation and he didn't even know where to begin in his argument against it.

Gwaine shook his head. But it was Lancelot who spoke to him. "Merlin," He said softly. "It isn't a sign of distrust. You know that."

He forgot how easily his friends sometimes were able to parse into his true thoughts, especially as he was so used to having to conceal those sort of things from everyone that, when he failed to do so, it was a bit jolting to hear it commented on when he expected no one to be able to tell in the first place what was wrong. "I do," Merlin agreed even though Lancelot had hit the nail on the head. Merlin resented being told he had to take someone with him because it felt like that meant Arthur didn't trust him now that he was a sorcerer - even though he'd always been one and the king just hadn't known it. The shots at his supposed incompetence were pithy in comparison to the potential of not having Arthur's trust.

Arthur's face fell, and the irritation fled from his being. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, staring at Merlin for a long moment in which he seemed to try to understand something just by the long examination of his face. "You idiot," Arthur finally said. "Of course I don't trust you to look after yourself. God knows you'll trip over a dandelion or some sort of nonsense like that. Leon shall be there to protect you. If things go right and nothing goes wrong, he'll be there merely to keep you company."

Merlin blinked. He felt warmth in his heart at the obvious display of protective worry - and also felt slightly foolish for having doubted Arthur's intentions. He often forgot that Arthur wanted to protect him because Merlin was so used to having to rely on himself and him alone for any protection; to hear it stated so plainly, it reminded him in an abrupt and warm way that Arthur cared and wanted him safe. Which he knew. But sometimes it was easy to forget. Especially when that sometimes was when Merlin was all by himself battling enemies Merlin could never talk about because it would implicate himself of magic.

Arthur continued, as if Merlin's silence meant he was still unhappy. His voice lowered and his ears reddened but he pressed on valiantly. "You are one of the most loyal men I've ever met - in fact, the most loyal. Of course I trust you. You above all others, there is none that I trust more than you."

As Arthur, flushed and awkward but terribly sincere, cleared his throat, Merlin smiled. "Well when you put it like that - "

"Shut up," Arthur interrupted, his expression supremely embarrassed and looking anywhere but at the people around him, lest he make eye contact with them. As if that would lessen how easily read he was by every person in the room.

"Of course," Merlin agreed happily. Arthur sighed. But Merlin wasn't fooled by the sound because the flush on Arthur's ears and neck were like a sunset's glow.

The plan was for Leon and Merlin to ride out and investigate; theoretically Merlin would take lead on it and Leon was there to protect him. Merlin thought the entire affair a bit ridiculous because he could go by himself but, after Arthur's earnest and tender declaration, Merlin wasn't going to challenge him on it. It wasn't worth it - plus, Leon wasn't half bad for company either, so there was that at least.

Leon at first didn't understand when Merlin had told him that they needed to sneak out of Camelot. They had the king's approval, Leon reminded him, and he claimed it wasn't necessary. Merlin only chuckled and shook his head until Leon gave in. 

So when Merlin exited Gaius' chambers and found Leon waiting for him in the small stone hallway that led up to the chambers with an amused, exasperated look, Merlin grinned back. Leon obviously still didn't understand the need for subterfuge, but that was alright because Merlin had plenty of experience in these sorts of things.

"Follow me," Merlin said and led them out of the door that bisected the outside corridor and the hallway that led to the actual door of Gaius' chambers. Leon obediently followed.

Merlin glanced down the corridor; it was clear but inside the castle, it wasn't so odd to be wandering about. It was outside the castle that it quickly became suspicious and the need for rushing was prominent. Merlin headed towards the main staircase, which was fortunately not too far off from Gaius' chambers. 

Outside of the stairway, a lone guard rattled a pair of dice on top of the statue's base on the railing. He appeared to be the sole guard in the entire courtyard area - which made sense, Merlin supposed, since there hadn't been a recent threat, but it still made him roll his eyes in disapproval. It was rather complacent of the guards to be stretched so thin; couldn't they have at least given this guard a companion to play dice with? And what was he to do should there have been actual trouble? He had no backup! Merlin would have talked to Arthur about it a long time ago, since this tended to be a reoccurring problem actually, except increasing the guard would make his life much more difficult - plus he hadn't ever wanted to have to answer the inevitable question of why Merlin had been sneaking past the guard in the first place.

Merlin concentrated and lifted the guard's dice up and away from the statue. The guard went to retrieve them, and Merlin floated the dice even further before they fell and rolled deep into the alcove on the right; in response, the guard was forced to turn his back to them in order to chase the dice, and Merlin grabbed Leon's arm and rushed them across the courtyard quickly. By the time they had made it through the courtyard and to the other side where the mews were, the guard had retrieved the dice and faced forwards once more.

"Do that often, do you?" Leon asked quietly. Merlin shrugged but Leon seemed to be able to tell that, yes, Merlin did do that quite often because he smothered his soft amused exhaled underneath his palm. Merlin had often thought that Leon's face was dramatically different when he smiled. Most of the time, Leon was so serious and orientated around duty; when he smiled, it was such a contrast to the poised neutral expression he always wore that it always made Merlin grin to see Leon's conveyance of joy. And when he laughed - normally, that was, when he wasn't trying to sneak in the middle of the night and be extra quiet - his laughs tended to be full and tinged with such wonder that, upon hearing the sound, Merlin always wanted to strive to make him laugh again sometime soon so that Leon could perhaps get more used to it and that the wonder might instead blossom into familiarity and heartiness.

"Oh, you'd be surprised at how often," Merlin agreed once they'd managed to slink from the mews into the safety of the stables. Leon chuckled lowly. Merlin approached the mare he tended to borrow from Arthur, opened the stall door, and made soft noises at her while he stroked her sides gently, trying to ease her awake. Leon likewise disappeared into a stall to wake his own horse.

"I must admit," Leon said quietly. "I am curious as to how you plan for two horse riding men to go unnoticed leaving the citadel. We could always just tell the truth to the sentry guards?"

Merlin fastened the saddle upon the mare. "You'd be amazed. But, if it makes you feel any better, if nothing else, we can always go with your plan if we get caught. Which we won't." Leon cleared his throat in a sound that sounded suspiciously like a covered up chuckle. Merlin swung himself up on the saddle. He guided the mare forward through the open stall door. "Time to satisfy your curiosity," Merlin said to his knight companion with a cheeky grin. Likewise astride his horse, Leon inclined his head and followed Merlin's lead.

The guard was still there, but he wasn't playing dice any longer, which meant that Merlin couldn't do the same trick twice. But that was fine; he had plenty of tricks after all. He reached forwards and guided his magic into a focus and murmured, "Astyre." His magic pushed the guard towards the alcove that Merlin had sent the dice earlier and quickly Merlin urged Leon to make haste while the guard stumbled and flailed in alarm at the unnatural displacement of himself so much that he ended up tripping over.

It was a bit of luck that got them to where Merlin wanted - and they had Gwaine's lucky necklace perhaps to thank for that, Merlin thought to himself with a smile - and they rode out of the stables, into and through the courtyard, and turned into one of the side passages. Leon gave Merlin an inquisitive look since they were heading further away from the main exit way because most people left the citadel via the stone bridge. But the bridge was definitely set with sentries and the outer walls were lined with patrols. Merlin had a better way.

They took the side passage in winding turns until they rode out to exit one of the main back passages, the one with the stone archway that led to an upraised field of grass that not very often but sometimes the knights used for private practices and sometimes Merlin had used to go on picnics with Gwen back when he'd still had the time to go on picnics. Leon let out a quiet noise of disbelief, realization dawning upon him about Merlin was planning, and Merlin grinned at him. They took the grass steppe until they turned where the stone wall bordering it left an opening of passageway to walk through, which lead down to the grass trails that were below the steppe and ran alongside the wall. 

When they began their path to the forest Leon pulled forward to keep pace with Merlin and turned to him. "I must say," His voice was remarkably level even as he frowned deeply. "I find myself a bit perturbed at how easy it is to go unnoticed out of the citadel."

That was completely understandable; he too had once felt the same, way back in his earlier days of living in Camelot. Merlin nodded. "You get used it it, unfortunately. Tons of people sneak past the guards - all the time, really."

Leon's frown deepened. "That sounds worrisome."

Oops. "It's not a big deal," Quickly Merlin tried to assure him. "If anyone gets in or out, I just go after them."

Leon's deeply concerned frown smoothed out as he closed his eyes and then opened them to look upwards at the heavens as if asking for either divine patience or for lightning to smite him so that he wouldn't have to hear this. "I see." His voice was carefully neutral.

"Mmm," Merlin nodded and didn't say anything further since he felt bad at making Leon so troubled. He should have guessed. For anyone who loved Camelot and Arthur, it was incredibly difficult upon the first realization that the citadel - where the king was supposed to be fortified and safe - was astoundingly easy to penetrate. Merlin didn't blame him for being somewhat shaken upon realizing it. It'd been such a long time since Merlin had gone through it himself that he'd probably been a bit too blasé about the whole affair.

"Hmm," Leon made a contemplative noise that piqued Merlin's interest.

"What is it?"

"You said that you deal with those who enter and exit with the guard unaware?"

Merlin nodded. "All the time. Well - " He quickly remembered Leon's unease and rushed to rectify his statement. "Not all the time. Just... You know... when it happens."

Voice incredibly dry, the knight asked, "And how often does it happen?"

Merlin felt rather guilty. He was undoubtedly causing Leon tumult with the newfound knowledge of how often no one but Merlin knew Camelot and Arthur to be endangered. "Well..." He said and didn't exactly answer the question, trying to this time not be as insensitive to the knight's feelings.

Leon eyed him for a long minute and then seemed to come to a conclusion. "I suppose it hardly matters how often," He said levelly. "Being as that you are competent when handling those matters."

"Competent," Merlin nodded quickly and resolutely then and there decided to never let Leon here about any of the times he was particularly inept regarding intruders - or extruders, Merlin supposed it was called when they left instead of entering. "You don't even know how many times I've saved Arthur without him even noticing something was amiss." Immediately Leon grimaced at that, which, right, Merlin had been trying to avoid reminding him about the perils he'd been ignorant to. "But!" Merlin continued on cheerfully. "Obviously everything turned out just fine! He's still alive and just as annoying as ever!"

There was a pause - and in it, Merlin wondered if he should, like Arthur had told him to so many times before, learn to shut up - and then Leon laughed. It wasn't as joyous as his typical laughs but still equally full of amusement and wonder that he was laughing at all in that weird and endearing way Leon had when he laughed.

"Yes, you're quite right." Leon said and sighed, appearing much settled. "Everything's fine. You know..." His gaze met Merlin's deliberately and held it. "Arthur's lucky to have you."

"Oh," Merlin said with a sly grin. "You wouldn't be the first to say so."

Leon laughed again - this time it was a more boisterous laugh that was less tinged in wonder, like Leon perhaps was finally getting used allowing himself to laugh but hadn't quite yet gotten the hang of it yet. He would, though, Merlin vowed as he grinned. He'd work on that, and Leon would get there and get used to laughing without giving heed to neutral decorum expected of him as nobility.

When Leon expectantly inquired which way they were to set out, Merlin paused. "I suppose we'll head West for a bit and then continue South," He decided.

The knight gave him a curious glance. "How do you know where to search?" Leon asked.

To that, Merlin shrugged. "I don't, not really. Typically I have a more narrowed location to search. When something magical occurs in such a broad area, it takes me forever to figure out where it is. And then, usually, I then have to figure out what it is."

"That... doesn't sound very promising," Leon said and did a rather good job of not sounding or looking alarmed even though it was apparent that he had blanched at such bleak prospects.

Ruefully, Merlin tried to assure him. He felt a bit bad that he had caused Leon such pessimism. "Well at least we probably know what it is this time."

It didn't seem to assure the knight any. "Probably," He repeated.

He tried to do a better job; he really wasn't used to having company on these sorts of things. Which was actually a helpful thought because it gave Merlin an idea on how to assure the knight. "Plus, I don't usually have any help, so there's that! Well, I mean. Sometimes I've got Lancelot or Gaius but not like this. When I ride out in the night to investigate, I'm by myself, is what I mean. It's nice to have company." The knight looked toward Merlin and his neutral demeanor softened slightly. "Right," Merlin nodded." Anyways, I suppose we could head out around towards the White Mountains. Obviously, that's not out destination - we'd never reach them in one night -  but that's the direction I think we should set off to."

Leon nodded and urged his horse to comply with Merlin's instruction. It was only after he had made to do so that he asked, "How do you suppose the beast is near the White Mountains?"

Again Merlin shrugged. "Well, the messenger that came with the news mentioned Lord Belinant. And his estate lies somewhere between the White Mountains and the Darkling Woods - which we're at." Merlin saw Leon grin at that, and Merlin flushed a bit because, right, obviously the knight knew they were in the Darkling Woods. It encompassed the city of Camelot after all, and everyone in Camelot knew the name of these woods, even children. Merlin cleared his throat. "There's quite a few villages in between the woods, Belinant's estate, and the White Mountains. The messenger first mentioned that the villages had all fallen prey to the kelpie - which leads me to believe that Belinant's estate only started falling victim to the beast after all of the villages had already been experiencing it for quite some time. Now why would that be? Because the villages must be closer to where the kelpie hunts and, in comparison, the Belinant estate must be further away to the kelpie."

The knight nodded. "That seems very plausible."

"So from there," Merlin continued, bolstered by the agreement, "It becomes a matter of finding out which village had been first encountered the kelpie - and which was the last."

An attentive audience, Leon made a soft noise. "Why the last?"

"In case the kelpie has been migrating its hunting ground." Merlin snapped his fingers together. "Okay, so you know how the Wilddeoren specifically live and hunt in the Tunnels of Andor?"

"...No?" The confusion was clear in Leon's voice and across his face. If he wasn't aware, then Merlin thought him rather fortunate that he hadn't experienced that like Merlin had.

"Well they do," Merlin informed him briskly. "And, see, I think the kelpie is probably like that too - otherwise it'd have spread to other areas by now, right? But it didn't! It's stayed within the same few villages and Belinant's estate - which means," Merlin beamed, "That if we know the first village that has been affected, we probably know where the kelpie like to dwell, right? But if we compare the last village that has been affected to Belinant's estate, we can determine whether or not the kelpie is sedentary like the Wilddeoren or if it's migrating its hunting grounds!"

There was a long minute of quiet while Leon absorbed all of that.

"Merlin," He said at last. "How long have you been coming up with strategies like these?"

It was a bit of a random question. Merlin paused to think it over. "Forever," He answered and it certainly felt true enough even if it was a bit dramatic. The knight nodded. "Since the day I came to Camelot, really," He answered a touch more honestly.

The look Leon gave him was hard to decipher - but it wasn't, Merlin thought, a bad look. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd think it almost was impressed.

They hadn't yet gotten to the villages Merlin wanted to investigate and had now been traveling South for a while when they slowed down their horse as the edges of the forest around them - no longer the Darkling Forest, but now a smaller one they were traveling through - began to merge into the beginnings of an upcoming hill as the soils underneath them became less abundant and began to become scattered with rocks.

"Hold," Leon said and they both paused to stare contemplatively at the upcoming clearing upon which an ever rockier incline began where the base of the hill was. The hill wound into a spiral so that its peak wasn't visible from this side of it, only the rock laden and heather lined sloping trail of it was in view.

There was something about it that wasn't quite... right. Merlin stared at the narrow and rocky trail and felt as the hair on his arms stood to ends. "Let's go this way."

Leon frowned. "The horses won't be able to continue on this path," Leon warned him. "Also, this isn't the way to the White Mountains." Which wasn't a no exactly so Merlin pressed on, especially since he was supposed to be taking lead on this anyways.

"I have a bad feeling," Merlin told the knight, who frowned. "Which usually means something bad's about to happen but not always. And we can always go by foot." He turned, stepped sideways firmly into the stirrup, and lowered himself off of his saddle and horse.

"Do you always head towards your 'bad feelings' instead of away from them?" Leon asked, voice dry but likewise dismounted.

He opened his mouth to answer but then paused to actually think about it instead of just instinctively denying it. "Pretty much yeah," Merlin realized. "Sometimes I don't!" He added on when Leon began to snicker at him. "Sometimes I'm too busy and I just let it be."

"And how often is that, would you say, that you let it be?" Leon asked as they both tied the lead rope of their horses to a low hanging branch on a nearby tree.

Merlin thought over how he wanted to answer because Leon sounded a bit amused but he always looked to be slightly concerned, so he should probably balance the answer between truth and humor. "Oh all the time really. You know me - I'm always busy with Arthur. Who has the time to chase after bad feelings with him around? Nooo, I much more often am busy with his laundry and polishing his armor and getting him food and - "

Leon held up one hand and Merlin paused. "You can tell me all about how you definitely don't chase after bad feelings," He said and sounded far too sarcastic to have believed Merlin. "But if we are to make our return to the castle by morning, then we best be going." Merlin nodded quickly. The two of them set off to begin the hike up the sloping hill.

"What do you think we'll find at the peak?" Merlin asked him.

Leon looked at him in surprise. "Of the two of us, you'd stand more of a chance to know, would you not?"

"No," Merlin scoffed. "Just because I have a bad feeling doesn't mean that I know what's going to be there or what's going happen."

The knight made a noise that Merlin couldn't quite decipher. "Quite honestly, I suppose I had assumed that you mayhaps could."

"Really?" Merlin asked, perking up. That was certainly a new development. Whenever people had found out about his magic, people had always underestimated Merlin's power - which was useful, since the people who tended to discover his magic tended to be foes - but this would mark the first time someone had overestimated him instead. It was a bit exciting. Well, Merlin amended, he supposed Kilgharrah and all the druids overestimated him but they didn't really count in his opinion. He found that he wanted to impress Leon a bit and keep his good opinion. "I mean - I did once. See the future."

Outright stopping, Leon turned to him. "You did?" Merlin nodded. "What was it like?"

Merlin winced and tried not to think too much about his time in the crystal cave and of how horrifying it had been to experience nor tried to think of the nightmares, both while awake and sleeping, that followed the experience. He answered honestly, "Terrifying."

At the rawness in his voice, Leon studied his face intently - and then, after a bit, nodded. "That bodes well," He said dryly, which surprised a chuckle from Merlin. He narrowed his eyes slightly in consideration and then added, "You know... we're still quite a ways from the peak. And you mentioned that you were the one to defeat the griffin - "

Instinctively Merlin interrupted on Lancelot's behalf, "Well - "

" - And," Leon continued pointedly and didn't let Merlin any bashfulness at all. "Like I said back in Arthur's chambers: I'd very interested in hearing about it."

"Really?" Merlin asked even though he knew Leon was serious. It was just - such a strange an unfamiliar concept that he'd get to boast about his magical endeavors when for so long he'd kept them close to his chest as guarded secrets out of necessity. Leon began walking again up the slope and Merlin took that as his cue to likewise begin walking and begin talking. "Well, you see, it all started when Lancelot saved my life - "

Several stories later and when finally they came in view of the peak, Merlin paused mid word and froze. Likewise, Leon came to a stop and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. For at the top of the hill, there was a small and worn croft house. Which meant that someone perhaps was in that house, and Merlin was all too aware that the hair on his arms were upraised once more as if in warning. And he was all too aware of the bad feeling that had started at the base of the hill and had only increased with every step higher toward the peak - toward here.

He let out a quiet exhale and it whitened in the cold of the twilight hours. Then he took a step forward. Immediately, Leon latched onto his arm with one hand.

"What are you doing?" Leon whispered and kept his eyes upon the house, as if the holey thatched roof and cracked stone walls were too evident of a threat to look away - or as if whatever was inside those walls and that roof was too much of a threat.

"This is probably it," Merlin whispered back. "Why I had a bad feeling." He took another step forward toward the croft house, and Leon's hand still held onto him but didn't stop him or pull him back.

"Arthur's going to kill me if anything happens to you." Leon muttered and Merlin wasn't quite sure if the comment was meant to be directed to Leon or himself. Before Merlin could respond, Leon let go of Merlin and drew his sword, stepping forward to place himself at Merlin's side.

Merlin inhaled as quietly as he could. And then he reached forward, opened the door.

And exhaled.

"Oh thank God," Leon said and lowered his sword in sight of the empty house, sounding very much unlike the brave knight Merlin knew him to be. Perhaps Merlin's strange unease had likewise unnerved Leon. For their first adventure together, Merlin was probably making a bit of a bad impression in all honesty.

But, unlike how Leon had, Merlin didn't quite relax. "No, no this is strange," Merlin corrected and stepped further into the house with a frown. Chills were running down his spine and he didn't think it was because of the cold. He wondered if Leon could feel it too, how unnatural it was. "Why isn't anyone here?"

"Perhaps it's abandoned." Leon said but began to examine the room with suspicious eyes, cautious to Merlin's judgement.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't think it is." He bent in front of the hearth and pointed to the ashes. "You see these? Those have made within the past day, at the least." He stood and looked around the modest wooden furniture and iron dishware that hung from hooks struck deep into the stone walls. "There isn't any dust either." He picked up a corner of the blanket on the bed and felt it. "Everything's been tended to recently."

"So what does it mean?" The knight asked.

It was a good question and one that he too wanted to know the answer to. Merlin released the corner of the blanket and smoothed it out to as it had been before. "I don't know."

The climb from down from the peak to the base of the hill was much easier going down than it had been going up - but the way going down was filled with a tense, worried silence as the two of them left each other to their own thoughts. Merlin tried to figure out why this hill and its croft house had been so unsettling, but he couldn't come up with an answer despite having found nothing amiss. It seemed to be an ordinary hill with an ordinary, albeit run down house on it. The only thing that should have been strange was that the house had been empty in the night when most people would be sleeping. But that still could have been explained away: perhaps whoever lived there had just set out to leave for somewhere, such as the neighboring village he and Leon had been to, to barter or visit someone. It shouldn't have been strange, but it was because something - something - felt terribly amiss and with each step further down the hill, that feeling of unsettling unnaturalness lifted some until it was just a vague bad feeling by the time they had reached the bottom where they had tethered their horses.

Reaching to untie his mare, Merlin paused. It had sounded an awful lot like rustling in the bushes behind that tree over there -

Leon grabbed Merlin by the arm and pulled him behind himself in a motion so swift that Merlin was left blinking at the back of his chain mail. Leon drew his sword and steadily awaited the oncoming foe, having also heard the rustling noise from the same bush Merlin had.

Instead of whoever lived in the croft house ambushing them - as Merlin had thought it was going to be - it was a large boar that emerged from the bushes. Which was something of a relief because Merlin quite frankly did not want to meet whoever lived in such an ominous house, except that the boar looked rather keyed up. It saw them and grunted - which was not a good sign. Whatever it saw in them, it was left unsatisfied by their response and clearly became further agitated. The boar let out an angry snort, one hoof digging into the soil beneath.

Leon braced himself. "When I say run," He quietly ordered with the expectancy of being listened to, "You take your horse and you run. Do you understand, Merlin?"

Of course Merlin understood; it didn't mean that he would listen however.

With a loud and angry squeal, the boar charged. Leon held steady. "Run!" He yelled and took a step forward, both hands gripping his sword's hilt tightly, prepared to contest with the beast.

And Merlin did not run but instead swelled the magic within him and shouted out, "Forþ fleoge!" Abruptly the boar stopped mid charge and was plunged into slumber immediately, toppling over on its side with a rough thud that made Merlin wince.

Still poised to defend them with arms upraised, Leon froze. Then he lowered his sword and turned to stare at him with wide eyes. "Did you just - "

"Nope," Merlin hurriedly interrupted him, which only caused Leon's stare to intensify since both Leon and Merlin knew that to be a lie. But Merlin couldn't help it - it was instinct! "Um, that is," Merlin tried to salvage his dignity. "Maybe?" Let that be: Merlin tried and failed to salvage his dignity.

Instead of looking amused at Merlin's expense, Leon's face started to twist softly into what appeared to be dismay. "Ah." Oddly, Merlin felt guilty. The knight's stare continued to be tinged with that strange sadness. "I suppose it's a hard habit to break." There was only one thing he could have been speaking about: the secrecy of Merlin's magic. Which was true - even after knowing that Leon knew, it was true; it was beyond instinct now to deny any association with magic. Sometimes it seemed that it came to him more naturally to deny his magic than to actually wield it.

"Oh you've no idea," Merlin agreed and nodded vehemently.

Eyes still strange and sad, Leon sighed. "I suppose I don't, no." He sheathed his sword and took a step forward towards the boar.

"Er, I wouldn't wake him if I were you," Merlin cautioned.

The knight paused. "It lives?"

Merlin nodded. "He's just asleep. I figured he probably didn't like us crashing through the forest at night - must seem awfully suspicious. Honestly, I don't blame him for attacking. I mean - wouldn't you?" Which was true. But it was also that it wasn't that Merlin had never killed animals with his magic before because he had - he'd even killed boars before - but it was different with an audience that was recently made aware of his magic. He'd had a split second of doubt and cast the boar asleep instead of the more violent - the more deadly - route. He didn't know what Leon expected of him and his magic. But so far all Merlin had shown him was simple tricks to get past one very bored, easily distracted guard and the allusion that he'd defeat the kelpie. It was too frightening to perhaps alienate Leon's good opinion of him by exposing him too quickly to the more violent side of magic, to remind him of why precisely sorcerers were considered to be such terrible threats. No, Merlin couldn't bring himself to do so, and so he'd gone for the softer choice - especially since, even though they were in danger, it hadn't been mortal danger and that's the method Merlin would prefer to do anyways. Merlin never liked killing animals and it was nice, for once, to be able to use his magic in this way because he could never save Arthur by sending irate animals to sleep; that was much more suspicious than killing them outright after all. So it was nice to have disposed of the threat without having killed it and it prevented any possible negative reaction from Leon had he done so.

Breaking him out of his internal thoughts, Leon let out a soft noise of amusement. "I suppose you're right. Perhaps the boar was just defending his home from strange intruders."

Finally. Someone got it! Merlin wanted to know why Leon had never encountered Merlin while Arthur was hunting because finally here was a knight with some actual sense; sometimes Merlin had wondered if the helmets they all wore rattled so much that it shook all the sense out of the knights like leaves from a tree being chopped. But Leon got it, so perhaps it was just Arthur being too thick headed to be able to understand.

The only reasonable knight sighed. "We best be going then," He said. Merlin agreed. Especially because he really didn't want to be here when the boar awoke if they happened to still be around.

Merlin gave a gentle pat to the mare's forehead before he untied her, grateful that she hadn't spooked upon sight of the boar; he had certainly been a bit spooked so it was a wonder that she hadn't been.

"We can reenter through the main gate," Merlin informed him, and Leon turned to look at him in surprise.

"Really?"

Merlin nodded. "See how bright the sun is? The guards will have rotated this morning at least once by now. The guards on sentry will just assume we left whenever the previous shift had been on duty."

The knight considered that for a moment. "I never thought of that," He said, his voice a bit odd, and when Merlin looked over at him Leon was looking back at him with such approval and respect that Merlin flushed. "Truly, you've given this much thought, haven't you?" It didn't sound like much of a question and that Leon already knew the answer so Merlin simply shrugged.

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked immediately, alarmed when Leon entered his chambers alone and unaccompanied by the manservant he had out with.

"Hopefully he's sleeping, my Lord," Leon answered with a fond smile. "I told him to try and get some rest while I'd report to you."

Arthur sucked in a breath. "Why? Is he injured?" He stepped forward instinctively, as if to lessen to distance between himself and the path to Gaius' chambers should he have need to hurry.

The knight shook his head. "He's perfectly fine - albeit a bit tired. I merely wanted to do him a favor."

Arthur's shoulders slumped and he exhaled slowly, trying not to breathe out all at once and reveal he'd been worried, even though he suspected that Leon had already figured that. "Right." He gestured toward his table and Leon took the invitation to sit; Arthur too sat down. "After scouting the village, what are your thoughts?" Arthur asked his knight.

"Well, we didn't find anything in way of the kelpie. But..."

The relief was short lived because Arthur didn't like the way Leon, who had faced a dragon and an immortal army without faltering, hesitated and the king was immediately alert. "But...?"

Leon's face turned grim and Arthur braced himself. "We found a croft house atop of a hill. The entire time, Merlin had a bad feeling about it - which is, initially, why we decided to investigate in the first place - but we found nothing out of the ordinary. Just an empty house, although it had signs of having been recently inhabited."

Was that all? An empty house and a bad feeling? "I see," Arthur said and breathed out the tension that had arisen within him. And here he had been expecting something along the lines of a dragon! "Anything else?"

Leon paused and lifted his hand to stroke at his chin while he thought it over. "I think it would be more effective should we keep the party of knights exclusive to ourselves." Leon suggested and Arthur was surprised.

He disagreed with that approach. "The beast is said to be very dangerous and a killer." Strategically, it made sense then that they'd need many men to subdue it to the point where Merlin would be able to do something about it - whatever magically defeating actually entailed, Arthur wasn't sure, but he was guessing it involved maybe a spell of some sort along with some finger wiggling.

"Yes," Leon inclined his head. "But the men are more at risk should they attend."

Arthur frowned but didn't dispute it because it was true - but it was always true and Leon was far experienced not to know that. Which meant that there was a point that Leon was getting at, and, with a heavy heart, Arthur thought he knew what it was. "Of course," He spoke levelly and did not allow any hurt feeling to come through, "But that is always the case, is it not? Those who attend are at risk, while those who do not are not. I won't ask anyone who's unwilling to go. You must know that I would never ask men to unwillingly ride to what could be their deaths. Without the people, Camelot is nothing. I am not so ruthless as a king to forget that." He didn't let it show upon his face, but he was upset that anyone - and especially one of his most trusted knights - could ever believe that he would act in such a way.

The regret was clear on Leon's face and it was a mild balm to a large, blistering burn. "My Lord, I apologize. I do not - I have not, can not - doubt you. That is not what I was trying to impress upon you and I fear I sent the wrong message." Arthur paused and Leon took that pause as an opportunity. He placed a bold hand on Arthur's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You would never bring harm to our people," Leon agreed softly but the earnestness and devotion was loud in his eyes.

"Not intentionally." He corrected, a bit embarrassed at the display of emotion before him in the typically more stoic knight.

"My Lord," Leon continued, "I know how you value the people. I admire that greatly. I shall never doubt it and I shall never doubt you."

Faced with the depths of the knight's utter fealty, Arthur cleared his throat. "What was it that you had intended to say?"

Leon lifted his hand from Arthur's shoulder, and the fierce spark in his eyes settled to something warm instead of blazing. "I believe it would be more efficient - especially for Merlin - should the party be limited to those who met in your chambers yesterday."

The realization hit. "This is about his magic." Leon inclined his head. "I see." And Arthur did. This wasn't about Arthur at all, which made his earlier response a tad bit embarrassing. It spoke badly of him that he had assumed Leon had been hinting at Arthur being an unfit king; it was unjust to ever assume Leon held anything but the highest of respect for him. He deliberated over apologizing but to acknowledge the misunderstanding any further would perhaps be worse, so Arthur left it alone. And he knew now what was actually being implied: this was about Merlin and how the kelpie needed to be defeated by Merlin's magic. He could see where Leon was leading to. "There is merit to be had in what you're saying. If the party consists of only those who know..."

"Then Merlin can employ more effective measures without restraint due to caution," Leon finished, exactly on par with Arthur's own thoughts and looking reassured that Arthur had moved on to the actual topic the knight had been warming up to and had left Arthur's mistake behind them.

"This is why you said it'd be less dangerous for own men if they were to remain behind." He said and thought the idea over.

"If they are present," Leon explained, "It places great restriction on what Merlin can do. He may be able to more without them being there at all. And against a foe so lethal..."

"It could save lives, yes." He agreed and sighed. "The less men there are, the more freely Merlin would be able to wield his magic. Alright. I'll think it over."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Leon rose from his chair and bent forward in a quick bow. He turned to leave but stopped when Arthur called after him.

"And Leon?" Arthur advised kindly and tried to silently convey, without outright saying it, how much he appreciated the knight. "You too should get some rest."

"My Lord," Leon said simply and inclined his head with a small smile that told Arthur that he would take his king's suggestion to heart - and that he perhaps understood what Arthur had intended.

And so then Leon left Arthur with his thoughts - and with the realization that Merlin was not going to attend to him this morning. Arthur sighed but had no desire to rouse Merlin should he indeed be asleep. He'd have someone else sent for his breakfast then. The things he was willing to do for his servant, Arthur thought as he rolled his eyes.

When Leon had told him to sleep, it probably had been assumed that he was going to return to his room in Gaius' chamber which was a logical assumption to make since normally he would. Except, Merlin didn't want to do that because he didn't want Gaius to send him on any chores or - worse - ask him questions as to where he'd been and then Merlin would have to explain the whole even more people knew about his magic thing. He'd have to do so eventually but he did not want that time to be now. And - even though it was a bit silly - the lingering sensation of the hill and croft house's unnaturalness was dwell in Merlin's thoughts and he couldn't quite chase it away; it would, he thought, be nice to be near someone he'd trusted and who could distract him from that feeling. And Gaius could have easily done that - except it then circled back to how Gaius would notice that something was wrong and that he didn't want to explain what he'd been up to because it'd lead to the confession of Leon and Arthur and Gwaine knowing about his magic. So Merlin didn't go to his chambers.

Lancelot looked surprised when he opened his chamber door and found Merlin on the other side. "Merlin, what's wrong?" He asked and ushered him inside with a gentle hand upon Merlin's arm and closed the door behind them.

Merlin shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. Leon told me to get some rest." Which was still somewhat strange and bemusing to Merlin since he'd gone much longer without any sleep at all and this wasn't even close to the most tired he'd ever been. But Leon had seen him yawn in the stables and had suggested, with so much kindness and concern, that Merlin should rest and he couldn't exactly say no to that. Well he could but he'd feel a bit bad about it. "So I thought I'd swing by and take advantage of how nice the mattresses are in the knights' quarters."

Lancelot sighed, more in relief than any sort of exasperation. "You're more than welcome," He said kindly.

And even though it was such an intrusion, Merlin hadn't before that moment even stopped to consider the possibility of not being welcome. He blinked. "Oh, er, thanks."

Merlin shuffled over and flopped onto Lancelot's mattress. As he had suspected, it was of a nicer quality than his own just like Gwaine's had been. Merlin had only twice before been to Lancelot's chambers - because they tended to confer in Merlin's room when they needed somewhere away from public ears and eyes - and then he'd stood the whole time and had never thought to test the mattress to see how much softer it'd be than his own, which obviously had been a mistake. From now on, Merlin was always going to meet with Lancelot in his room and steal his bed while planning their latest secret magic mishap.

Merlin had only been lying there for a moment when something even softer than the mattress draped over him. "Wha...?" He turned and watched as Lancelot tucked a thick blanket around him, which was slightly mortifying because Merlin wasn't an infant - but also was very, very nice and cozy so didn't exactly want to protest either. Especially since the tender care helped to chase away the unsettling chills that seemed to haunt up and down Merlin's arms and spine from the hill and croft house. "Why wasn't your blanket on your bed?" Merlin asked and burrowed deeper into its softness. It was thick and perhaps stuffed with something like feathers, not nearly as thick as Arthur's comforter but delightfully thicker, softer, and warmer than Merlin's own thin blanket. It had clearly been a good choice in coming here just for the blanket alone.  Merlin closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling.

"During the day, I like to keep it folded in the armoire," Lancelot answered. "It makes the room feel more tidy."

Merlin nodded even though he never was one to care about tidiness in his room - that was the whole joy of having a room to oneself! He didn't have to worry about putting his things away in his room because it was his room and no one else's. He hadn't before considered that some people might, in the same vein of thinking but opposite, keep their room tidy because it was their room; that was rather interesting actually.

But for now, Merlin burrowed deeper into the blanket and sighed, content.

"Have a good rest," Lancelot murmured quietly and his gentle hands lifted as he finished meticulously tucking the blanket around Merlin. "You deserve it."

Merlin wanted to tell him that he deserved good rest as well - even if it was morning by now, Lancelot deserved such good rest now and and all the time - and he meant to vocalize that sentiment, except the thick, soft warmth of the blanket lulled him unexpectedly quickly, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all because in the next moment he was well asleep.

Chapter Text

Lancelot waited until he was sure that Merlin was soundly asleep - until the blanket like a layer of protection rose and fell steadily enough with each breath that lifted the thin chest beneath, peacefully enough, that Lancelot felt assured upon leaving him alone to it - before he quietly made to leave through his chamber door. There was something reassuring about watching Merlin be tranquil and soft when usually he was aflutter with things to be doing and when usually he was always weighed down by so many concerns and worries; there in the bed, Merlin seemed to be at last a stranger to such heaviness and burden. Lancelot had been content to witness him that way until, whence he was sure the sound of it would not be noticed, that is when he left.

He dearly hoped that Merlin found soothing, undisturbed rest. Merlin worried far too much about everyone else and very little about himself; it was a relief to see him so relaxed and unworried. Especially since, only the once, Merlin had let it slip that he had trouble catching restful sleep - in between the nightly excursions of magic or simply defense that must remain secretive and the nightmares Merlin suffered on occasion, the man didn't get much in ways of rest. Lancelot hadn't much hope for it when Merlin had first arrived to his chambers with the echo of having been shaken and spooked sometime before his arrival; he hadn't wanted to push his friend, hadn't asked what had happened - and it had paid off, as Merlin had lost that harried, spooked quality that wasn't obvious but still noticeably lingered about him like a shadow beneath one's feet. If he only could, Lancelot would always soothe away such worries and hurts from his friend but it was enough that he had managed this time to do so.

As he made his way to the Council room, a page stopped him and looked up to him with wide, young eyes. "Sir Lancelot," The page greeted and then opened his mouth in a realization of some sort before he belatedly dipped his head into a quick, rushed bow that was endearing to behold. He wasn't sure if the page was unpracticed at the customary greetings or if he was outright new at being a page all together and was still learning all of the rites and duties  he wasn't like Percival, who could keep track of the pages and squires by name, even thee ones that rose through the ranks - and either way, it was adorable to witness. "The King has decreed that the meeting in the Council chambers is now to be held upon midday."

"He has, has he?" Lancelot asked and wondered for the change but perhaps it was simply that Arthur liked to adhere to routine and he preferred that routine unchanging; he suspected that Arthur wanted morning training to resume its rightful place at morning.

The page nodded, head bouncing quickly up and down. "I'm meant to tell you!"

Lancelot smiled. "You've done a good job of it." The page's eyes widened and then he beamed, extraordinarily proud at having successfully completed his errand. It seemed more likely, in Lancelot's opinion, that the page was new at his duties and it was tempting to reassuringly ruffle the boy's hair. Having greatly stunned many pages upon doing that, Lancelot settled for a soft clap upon the boy's shoulder. "I thank you."

The page's eyes widened even further and then he again nodded, this time even more quickly. "You're welcome, my Lord!" The boy grinned and cheerfully began to scamper off.

"Did the king," Lancelot called out after him and the page paused, "Happen to mention anything about morning training then being resumed?" Because it seemed unlikely that the practice - previously postponed due to the meeting - now wouldn't be held as per typical scheduling as that the meeting was, instead, postponed. Lancelot was pretty sure of the answer but it never hurt to ask.

Facing falling, the page obviously realized that Arthur had. "Oh!" The page said, flushing in mortification. "Yes, my Lord! I'm sorry, my Lord!"

"That's quite all right," Lancelot said and the boy's mortification visibly eased into a less intense of an embarrassment.

Standing as straight as possible, like it could make amends for his earlier mishap, the boy declared, "The king requests your presence for morning training,"

"Thank you," Lancelot said and the page brightened, most of his embarrassment forgotten, and then they went their separate ways as Lancelot headed to prepare for the training and the page left to attend a different duty now that he'd finished this one.

When he had reached the armory, Lancelot found several knights having their armor being put on by a couple of pages and squires but no Arthur; he wondered idly who would have the duty of doing so since Merlin was the one who always did that task and he was currently asleep.

Lancelot turned when someone called for his attention. "Have you seen Merlin?" Gwaine asked him, and the only tell of concern Lancelot was able to recognize upon him was his lowered brow; worry was not, typically, an expression that Gwaine tended to wear very often. And Lancelot was not familiar enough with the knight's microexpressions to have otherwise been able to spot it.

"He's in my chambers, sleeping." Lancelot tilted his head as he watched Gwaine soften before his eyes, face blossoming into an easy and relieved grin upon hearing those words. He seemed to find similar comfort in the idea of Merlin resting that Lancelot had earlier. Lancelot pulled his hauberk over his head and settled it around his torso more comfortably.

"How is he?" Gwaine asked but seemed much more at ease, slouching in such a way that the squire attending him paused in the fastening of the faulds around the waist. 

"He appears to be fine. Merely resting." Lancelot answered truthfully and nodded thankfully to the squire who dutifully approached him to assist him in his armor.

"Good, good." Gwaine nodded and looked to wholeheartedly think so. "That's good then. I wasn't sure what to expect after - " He cut himself off and wiggled his eyebrows at Lancelot, while the squire attending him had a page assist in the fastening of the pauldron, besagew, and spaulder on his left arm. Lancelot bent to allow the squire attending to better reach at lifting the plackart over his head. Both Lancelot and Gwaine were conscious in the company around them, of the busy armory as knights were likewise being dressed to hurriedly adhere to the hasty summoning of the resumed morning training which had previously not been scheduled for morning.

So when Gwaine paused thoughtfully with a hefty weight to that pause, Lancelot understood it as it was intended: Gwaine, wisely, did not want to mention Merlin and Leon's secret late night trip when he begun to speak. "Well. I wasn't sure what to expect, is all. And I couldn't find him or Leon, so." He shrugged, as if unbothered, but it made Lancelot smile grimly in sympathy; the not knowing what could have happened to Merlin when one knew him to have the potential to have found danger, it was a difficult thing to endure. But endure it he has and endure it he would.

It, however, was but a mere raindrop next to a vast lake in comparison to Merlin's burden. And it was a difficult thing to endure, this was true. But it was Lancelot's honor and privilege to be able to endure it. He suspected that Gwaine too felt the very same way.

"There you are!" His manservant, who was supposed to be sleeping, called out; Arthur turned and stared at him incredulously as Merlin approached him with a cheery smile and a near skip in his step and very much awake, as if ignorant to that very fact that he should not have been. "I've been looking for you for ages! And - " Merlin's face shifted into a scowl while Arthur stood there in the corridor just past his chambers and wondered - if Merlin was so insistent upon being stupid - why he couldn't have shown up slightly earlier because Arthur just had removed his armor all by himself and if Merlin was so insistent upon being conscious, then he could have at least helped with that. "George is going around saying he should be the one to gather your lunch since you asked him to serve you breakfast!"

"I didn't specifically ask him," Arthur denied because Merlin had a weird thing about George that he didn't quite understand. It was almost a rivalry, except much more stupid. Just because George actually knew how to be a proper manservant didn't mean that Merlin needed to feel threatened by it! Honestly, sometimes Arthur just didn't understand the thoughts that went through Merlin's brain.

At his words, Merlin let out an unhappy and victorious noise, which was a strange contradiction in itself but Merlin was idiotic enough to manage such a feat. "So you did ask for - I can't believe you! Are you angry with me? No but that doesn't make any sense, why would you be angry? I haven't done anything - actually..." Merlin paused in his tirade to think about it and then continued on, bolstered by his conviction. "I haven't done anything! You have no right to be angry with me! I can't believe this!"

"Merlin," Arthur tried to say calmly but, as Merlin continued ranting without even heeding that Arthur was talking, he gave in and raised his voice. "Merlin, you imbecile, I'm not angry with you!"

His manservant paused, his scowl fading to a look of confusion that was much typical for Merlin's face to be wearing. "Oh. You're not?"

"No, Merlin, I'm not. I was trying this thing called being nice. You might have heard of it? Leon informed me you were sleeping and, instead of waking you, I had breakfast sent by someone else - " Merlin opened his mouth and Arthur cut him off before he could complain about George again. " - anyone else!"

Utterly perplexed, the argument seemed to evaporate from Merlin. "I'm plenty nice," He said at last, picking that out of all the things Arthur had said to focus on.

He was plenty that as well as plenty an idiot, Arthur thought. "Then you might see how my gesture was not intended to make you angry, hmm? I had assumed - like a logical, reasonable person, which clearly you're not - that you'd be happy to have not been woken up. My mistake." He finished sarcastically.

Merlin frowned. "Just... don't do it again."

Of all the stupid - "Believe me," Arthur answered dryly, "I wouldn't dream of it." Merlin squinted at him, unsure, trying to decipher whether or not he was being made fun of. Arthur indeed was mocking him, so he silently applauded Merlin's skepticism. "And, by the way, neither you nor George shall be fetching my lunch, seeing as that I am having luncheon served at the Council room for myself and my knights." He had postponed the meeting to a later hour under the belief that Merlin would be unavailable due to him being asleep, giving Merlin some extra time before Arthur was forced to wake him for it; as in all things, Merlin lived to prove him wrong. Luckily, there wasn't too much time from now until the meeting, so it wasn't an error on his part to have done so.

"Right," Merlin said slowly. "The whole - meeting thing. About the kelpie."

Finally, Merlin seemed to understand something. "Exactly," Arthur nodded. Merlin still eyed him suspiciously but let the matter drop.

"I thought you had moved the knight's training to about midday, though, actually?" Merlin realized. "Since the meeting was this morning?"

Arthur smiled. "See, had you been awake, you would have known this - but I've rescheduled."

"Rescheduled?" Merlin asked like he didn't understand the meaning of the word. "Which thing - the training or the meeting?"

"Hmm?" Arthur took pleasure in being vague about it. "Both."

His manservant eyed him in confusion and slight worry. "Have you scheduled both the training and the meeting for midday? Because that would be a terrible idea and - "

Arthur cheerfully began walking away and delighted in the way Merlin hastily scrambled behind him like an indignant, scolding shadow as he lectured him about scheduling and why he should consult Merlin when it came to these sort of things; as Merlin began to insult his intelligence and capabilities for listening to people, it was like music to his ears and he grinned, which in turn caused Merlin to accuse him of not taking him seriously. Merlin was just fine, Arthur thought to himself as his manservant begun to tell him off for not listening; he hadn't been worried, exactly, since Leon had told him as such - but it was one thing to have been told it and another to confirm it with his own eyes.

Arthur and Merlin passed the knight while they walked; unlike the other knights they had passed, this one called out after them. Arthur paused and turned; Merlin clumsily came to a stop beside him, bony elbow knocking into his own. He ignored his manservant's quiet grumbles about it to greet the knight, who was either Sir Boshkun or Sir Willingham but Arthur wasn't entirely sure because the two looked extremely similar to each other. "Your Majesty," The knight bowed and then straightened. "I am cousin to Lord Belinant. I ask to go with you to defend his estate."

Arthur looked at him and the earnest conviction upon his face. He knew he ought to dismiss the help but he admired the man's loyalty and kinship. "The beast will be perilous," Arthur warned him. "More likely, it will even be fatal."

The knight - Sir Willingham, Arthur placed him finally - nodded. "I understand, my Lord."

Arthur clapped a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Good man. Head to the Council chambers; I shall be there shortly." The knight then bowed and retreated with a grateful thanks.

"The more the merrier," Merlin muttered sarcastically under his breath, and Arthur nearly winced because, right, there was that. Arthur wasn't surprised that Leon had shared his strategy with Merlin. But now a lack of secrecy by way of surrounding them with only those who knew that secret was a useless method. Which meant, at least, that Arthur could extend the party of knights to the rest of the Round Table who weren't privy to the fact that Merlin had magic.

"Perhaps I'll ask if Sir Godric would like to join us," Arthur mused in an attempt to rile Merlin.

It worked. His manservant sent him a fierce glare. "Sir Godric is an absolute - " So angry, Merlin didn't even deign him with an adjective.

"He's one of my oldest knights," Arthur protested and steadily ignored the fact that that was because Sir Godric was outright one of the oldest persons Arthur knew. He'd been around before Arthur had been born. And Arthur had always known him to be old. He didn't actually do any of the duties of the knights; he never went to training or defended Camelot. He sort of just wandered back into the citadel any time he knew there was to be a reoccurring celebration that included knights to be invited, such as birthdays and holidays.

"I know you're not serious," Merlin told him and waggled one finger at him as if scolding him. "But I am serious about Willingham. Couldn't you have just told him no?"

"Not really," Arthur answered and it was partially the truth. Because he could have, sure - but he couldn't have all at the same time.

Instead of arguing further, Merlin groaned. "You love to make more work for me, don't you?"

Arthur clapped his hand down on Merlin's thin shoulder in support. "Don't worry, Merlin," He jeered, "I have complete faith in you." His manservant scowled. And thus Arthur cheerfully got away with teasing Merlin and using sarcasm to hide how the actual words underlying the jeer had been achingly, completely true even if his tone had inferred he was jesting. Because he, indeed, had complete faith in Merlin.

As the king had ordered, the Knights of the Round Table reconvened in the Council room to again discuss a plan to defeat the kelpie, joined by Sir Willingham. Lancelot raised his eyebrows upon sight of Willingham and then looked to Merlin, and Leon likewise turned to look at Merlin for explanation; but all he could do was shrug and silently throw his arms towards Arthur in an exasperated motion because it was hard to explain 'Arthur's an idiot and allowed this knight to join us even though Leon came up with a plan to only include the five of us' from across the room. Some of it must have been conveyed successfully because Lancelot and Leon both frowned, and Gwaine - who hadn't even looked to Merlin for explanation but must have been keeping a subtle eye on him - began to examine Sir Willingham with scrutiny while Arthur drolled on and on and they all had to pretend that they all hadn't already come up with a plan.

It must have been a bit strange surely for them - those that had met in Arthur's chambers last night - but Merlin was well used to having the need to make secretive schemes and outwardly plan another scheme when under the gaze of others. For the most part, Arthur did a fair job of not squirming too much when the knights suggested ideas and he had to pretend to entertain them, even though Merlin knew that he didn't think most oft them relevant - not when the five of them were counting on Merlin's magic as the plan. It was kind of funny to, for once, see someone else try and bluff about schematics without revealing that they were bluffing; no one ever gave Merlin enough credit because it was much harder than it looked - but, obviously, until now only Gaius and Lancelot could have given him credit for doing so, as no one else had known.

When the meeting was concluding, Merlin watched as Arthur faced his knights and looked each one in the eye. Then he spoke in a low, somber voice. "This will be dangerous. The beast is said to have killed many men and even some skilled warriors. It will not reflect badly upon any of you should you hold no wish to go and risk your life. If any desire to stay - you are more than welcome." Looking back at him, Arthur saw no wavering or hesitation, only saw fierce certainty and determination among his knights. Something obviously settled within him and his face softened; the great idiot had been worried about that then when he shouldn't have been. "Gather yourself and supplies for the journey and meet in the courtyard by the stables with your horse and supplies when two tolls of the bell have rung. The creature and weather both are formidable, so it's important to be prepared."

It was such an understatement that it made Merlin snort. "Merlin," Arthur said in faux cheer, and the seriousness of the mood from only a moment ago was left forgotten. "Don't forget to ready my horse and pack my provisions. I'll be needing my tent as well. Also, make sure to polish my armor - the beast is quite fierce and I'll need all the protection I can get, hmm?" Arthur, knowing full well that Merlin was going to be the one to directly go against the best, smirked. Merlin stared at him and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

"Mm," Merlin agreed. "I'll get right on that."

"See that you do," Arthur looked far too amused with himself. "We meet in the main courtyard in two hours," He reminded the knights. "Carry on."

Succumbing to the inevitable, Merlin rolled his eyes. It would, he was sure, not be the last time he would do so today.

"Merlin," Gwaine greeted and he paused his polishing of Arthur's vambrace to look at his friend in suspicion.

"Hmm." Merlin didn't have to say actual words in order for Gwaine to cotton on to his skepticism.

Caught out and unrepentant for it, Gwaine conceded. "I haven't even said anything."

"Yeah, well," Merlin picked up the rag again and resumed polishing. "I could just tell." At least the armory was empty because he knew that Gwaine was up to something that gossiping pages shouldn't be witness to.

"I've always said you're a smart one." Gwaine sat next to him on the bench where he was seated.

Merlin gave a low laugh. "Okay, come on, what do you want?"

"Besides your company?" Gwaine asked with a grin and a gentle nudge to Merlin's upper arm with his own. Merlin shook his head, smile wide, and waited. "Well, as it happens, I was wondering if you'd do me a favor."

"Oh really?" Merlin asked, absolutely not surprised by this turn of events whatsoever because he and Gwaine both knew that Merlin had pinned his intentions the moment Gwaine had set foot into the armory; he'd just sort of had an air about him that Merlin knew was suspect. Not in a bad way, exactly - because Gwaine wasn't a bad person and he was far to noble to have ill intentions, especially towards Merlin of all people - just in a way Merlin knew not to immediately trust.

Gwaine chuckled and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. "See, I was wondering - "

"Oh I'm sure." Merlin muttered and set down the vambrace to swap it for the gauntlet as he listened to whatever lark Gwaine was trying to pull. It was ridiculous that Arthur was having him do all of this plus pack everything; truthfully Merlin was considering just polishing the upper half of the armor because he'd just polished it two days ago and the trip preparations were more important to get done before they all gather at the courtyard to depart.

" - if you'd be willing to, ah, pack my provisions for me."

Was that all? Merlin set down the polishing rag upon his thigh. "What? No. Of course not. You heard Arthur - I've got load of things to do before we leave. I don't have the time to do yours on top of it." He turned and looked at Gwaine in surprise and disbelief. It was actually very unusual for Gwaine to ask for this type of favor, as Gwaine didn't have any qualms about doing his part or working hard. "You can pack them yourself. Or get a page to do it. Ah." Merlin realized that, between the other knights and the intense ongoing preparations for Arthur's upcoming birthday, the pages perhaps would be stretched too thin to do so in the timely manner that was necessary.

Gwaine grinned. "I can. But! Can't you just - " He wiggled his head and fingers in a gesture that was far too familiar.

"No," Merlin snapped. "I can't just - " He likewise wiggled his head and fingers because it truly and horribly was now forever stuck to be associated with magic use and Merlin couldn't escape it even if he tried because it was catchy. "I can't keep being so reckless with my, you know." He again wiggled his head and fingers. "It's great that you're supportive, Gwaine, - it is, really - but I can't get used to it. I'm getting too comfortable with you knowing and it's going to lead to disaster. Arthur caught me doing - " Merlin again wiggled his fingers. " - more than once and I didn't know anyone had even seen until he yelled at me for it later."

"Why would Arthur be yelling at you?" Gwaine asked with a frown. Which. Was not the point Merlin had been going for at all, not one bit. Gwaine visibly tucked his disapproval away to gentle himself, face and voice softening in such a way that Merlin's exasperation with him faltered. Because all in all Gwaine was his friend and it was moments like these - the tender moments in between things like only partially joking attempts to coax Merlin into doing chores for him - that reminded Merlin of how sweet Gwaine was. "He already knows about you. Is he giving you a hard time? I'll talk to him."

"What?" Merlin blinked, a little thrown off but the topic and sudden shift in the conversation's mood, but then realized what Gwaine meant. "Oh. No. You know he isn't, of course not. No, it's fine, Gwaine, he's been surprisingly lovely about it - oh shut up, that is not what I meant." Gwaine lifted both hands as if to prove his innocence but that did nothing to prevent the amused expression that now resided upon his face. "No, he yelled at me because I'm being too obvious. Especially in public. What if it hadn't been Arthur who had seen? It could have been serious. Which is why!" Merlin came full circle to his original point, "You need to stop encouraging me! I get it and I thank you for trying to be supportive - you're very sweet - but I can't keep being so obvious! Especially for trivial things like - like provisions!"

Gwaine nodded but then said, as if it was very simple, "Well have you considered not being obvious then?"

Merlin picked up the polishing rag and tried to whack him with it but the knight dodged away. "Oh shut up."

"I'm serious!" Gwaine's laugh belayed how serious he wasn't even though his suggestion was said in utter seriousness. "Maybe if you learned to be a little more subtle, then it'd be fine, no?"

Merlin shook his head. "You're unbelievable."

"Is that a 'no, I'm not going to magically pack the provisions' or is it a 'yes, you're right, Gwaine! I will pack them because you're so smart, all I have to do is be subtle about it!'"

Merlin shoved at Gwaine's shoulder, and Gwaine stumbled sideways with a laugh. He steadied himself and then stood, still laughing. "You could always pack your own bag, you know." Merlin reminded him.

Gwaine made a clicking noise with his mouth. "I could - except then who would pilfer a bottle of wine from the kitchens for our trip while I do that?"

Merlin paused. "You don't care much for wine."

"Ah," Gwaine held up his index finger. "But you do." He ended his declaration with a wink and with both arms raised and bent to tuck his hands behind his head almost as if he was lounging upon a bed and using them for a pillow instead of standing upright.

Merlin let out a soft laugh. "I'd be more impressed if you managed to get me some pastries, actually."

"I can't work miracles." Gwaine said dramatically, hands and arms still posed smugly behind his arm in his leisurely lounge. "Besides, Mary'll have my hand if she catches me taking any more pastry." Merlin chuckled and concurred that Cook would. "I'll try and get you that wine from Massalia that you like."

If there was one thing Gwaine knew how to be, it was tempting: tempting fate, tempting tempers, and, now, tempting him. Merlin paused. "Just because you know my favorite wine doesn't mean that I'll pack your provision every time you grab me a bottle."

"Of course not," Gwaine agreed easily. "Next time, I'll fill a canteen with mulled cider and you can warm it up for us. You know..." Gwaine wiggled his head and his fingers pointedly. Merlin exhaled, amused and incredulous. Of course Gwaine had picked up his sarcastic finger movement and had added it on to the usual pantomime for magic, of course.

"Didn't I just say I should be less obvious about it?" Merlin asked but chuckled afterwards and Gwaine knew him to not be angry.

At last dropping his arms, Gwaine shrugged. "Didn't I just say that then you need not to be obvious at all if you're subtle?"

Merlin didn't have a good enough reply for that. "Stop distracting me. I have to finish this and then go pack," He reminded Gwaine instead of admitting that his friend had a point.

Seeing the answer for what it was, Gwaine raised and lowered his eyebrows good-naturedly. "I'll be off to the the kitchens then. Wish me luck."

Merlin did but then he had an even better idea. "Wait!" Gwaine paused, halfway turned to leave. Merlin stood, lifted the necklace Gwaine had given him from his own neck, reached forward, and placed it over Gwaine's head. "Good luck." Merlin said, a bit redundantly now that Gwaine was wearing the enchanted necklace that would gift him with such luck.

Gwaine's smile was wide and bright as he brought his hand up to grasp the necklace that now draped around his neck. He lifted it from where it fell on his chest and brought it upwards and slightly forwards, as if mimicking what someone would do when making a toast with a goblet. Gwaine then tucked it into the dip of his jerkin. "I'll aim for two bottles with this," Gwaine said and Merlin couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not but he grinned back anyways at his friend.

He looked back to the gauntlet in his hand and hesitated. He glanced around the empty armory quickly and - not because Gwaine  had told him to but because he really did have to go and pack - he then murmured a quiet spell. The freshly polished armor gleamed and Merlin sighed in relief.

Merlin stopped at Gaius' chambers to fetch his medicine bag and to say goodbye.

Gaius was hunched over while mixing things and stirring them into a pot bubbling over the fire. "Ah, Merlin, could you hand me the dictamnus albus? It's on the shelf there." Merlin grabbed the flower from a vase on the shelf and handed it to him. "Yes, good, thank you."

"Arthur and I are leaving soon," Merlin informed him.

Gaius froze and then straightened and turned. "Already? Arthur hadn't seemed in such a hurry to head out. I had thought he was trying to establish some sort of plan - I had thought that you and I had more time to come up with something. I have yet to find any particular spell to defeat the kelpie," Gaius warned him.

Merlin nodded. "I'll figure it out."

"You'll have to." The physician pursed his lips. "We could try to quickly assemble some sort of strategy...? Although I suppose we wouldn't know what to be effective until you actually encountered the kelpie." 

Merlin closed the flap off his medicine bag. "Thanks but I've got to go actually. Arthur wants me to pack our provisions and I told Gwaine I'd do his for him."

Gaius' face softened, as it often did when he thought Merlin was being sweet. "You best be off then." Gaius said gently and then frowned. "Good luck, Merlin." Gaius was worrying over the kelpie then, if he was frowning like that. Which was definitely a bad sign.

"Thanks." Merlin beamed and tried to show how unworried Gaius should be because everything was going to be just fine - and then he paused. "Actually, I was wondering - is there, do you know, any sort of spell that could pack provisions so I don't have to?" Merlin asked his mentor, who looked up from the remedy he was brewing to stare disapprovingly at Merlin.

"Are you suggesting," Gaius said slowly with enough contempt that Merlin immediately regretted having asked, "That it is worth risking your life to spare yourself from a few minutes of work?"

"Mm-mm." Merlin shook his head, even though it kind of and definitely had been.

Gaius stared at him, unsatisfied even with Merlin's denial. At least now he didn't look so worried, even if it was at Merlin's expense. "I should think that by now you would have learned this lesson."

"Oh, I have!" Merlin quickly assured him. "I was just - wondering. For academic reasons."

"Academic reasons," Gaius repeated dryly.

"Academic." Merlin nodded his head even though clearly Gaius did not believe him even one bit. Probably for good reason too, Merlin thought.

Gaius stared at Merlin for a lengthy bit of time but Merlin kept his composure. Then the physician sighed. "Good luck, Merlin. The gods know that you need it."

Merlin frowned. "Er...Thank you." That had been oddly double sided in meaning. "I think."

Gaius snorted in a break of decorum that he tended to only exhibit here in his chambers. His amused smile made Merlin reflexively smile back at him. He was easily made merry by the happiness in his father figure, even if it was at his expense; Merlin couldn't help but be swept up in that joy and laugh. Gaius too let out a chuckle and Merlin's smile stretched wider. For a moment the two of them stared at each other, caught in a loop of building happiness as they each fed off each other's merriment and further prompted more merriment from each other.

"Well off with you then," Gaius fondly said with what was probably an attempt at a stern look but was much too jolly to have such an effect. He then turned and resumed making his remedy, picking up his wooden spoon to stir it with one hand and add in a vial of herbs soaked in vinegar to make tincture in the other hand.

Merlin threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder and was off - to pack the provisions by hand unfortunately. Even still, the smiled never left him.

In the courtyard, Arthur swiftly climbed up onto his great stallion and urged Hengroen forwards, leading into a gallop. Behind him, the rest of his knights followed suit, their horses keeping pace but with a respected gap in between them as Arthur led them out of Camelot.

"You're always so dramatic about it," Merlin criticized nonsensically. From his place beside him, Merlin was a mere half step behind him on Arthur's very own mare Llamrei - still paying heed to Arthur's foremost position as he led them but, as ever, staying by Arthur's side in a way no other ever had. Constant and steady.

The stone of the courtyard long behind them, they quickly traversed onward over the stone bridge that led past the sentries and into the fields nearby. "Dramatic about what?" Arthur asked him, even though he felt like it was setting himself up to be laughed at just a bit.

Merlin indeed snorted. "Every time we leave Camelot. You're always so dramatic and just - gallop away! It'd be a nice change for once to have, say, a trot when we leave."

"A... trot," He echoed, let his voice over-emphasize how stupid he thought the idea to be, and shook his head. "You have no sense of urgency." Arthur informed him.

"You just have too much," His friend countered quickly and easily. Arthur looked to where Merlin currently was beside him and not any paces behind now that they had left the citadel and town behind. Merlin's face was bright and open and laughing at him like always.

It was going to be like it always was, Arthur tried to assure himself. This trip wasn't any different now that he knew abut Merlin's magic.

Except, it did feel different. And, yes, some of that was a good different - more poignant and more like he and his manservant were on equal footing - but some of it felt distinctly ominous. Because this time, Arthur knew and immediately had responded to that knowledge by throwing Merlin at a great danger to fix like some sort of useful tool. It gave Arthur a bad feeling and he wondered if it was just him or if Merlin likewise was beginning to perhaps feel a sense of regret in how they handled the affair; of course, there wasn't any alternative - the kelpie could only be defeated by magic after all and this was the only way to do that. Still, as he looked at his friend astride Llamrei and poking fun at his king, he couldn't help but to worry. Merlin, despite what he claimed, was soft in a way that Arthur feared. Could Merlin truly kill a creature when he deliberately scared away prey when Arthur when hunting? Lancelot said Merlin had been responsible for the death of the griffin - but that was different, in Arthur's opinion. No one then had expected Merlin to do it all alone and by himself. Except Merlin perhaps, Arthur realized, and thought to how Merlin had tried to dissuade Arthur from going out against what they both had believed to be Arthur's death.  

And, Arthur thought grimly as Merlin laughed beside him, Merlin wouldn't be alone - not this time or ever again. Even though the beast could only be defeated by magic, it didn't mean that Merlin had to be alone in his fight against it. And he wouldn't be alone.

Arthur had a bad feeling maybe. But he listened to Merlin's easy prattling and let that feeling encourage him to give everything he had in order to protect Camelot and her people. To protect Merlin.

Chapter Text

They'd been traveling for some time before the knights' attention was drawn by Arthur. The plan, Gwaine knew, was two folded in that there was an outer plan - which involved scouting the villages and making inquires - and there was a second, private plan - which was for Merlin to deal with the kelpie whence it was found. But first, no matter the secrecy of magic or not, they did have to find the kelpie in order to do anything about it. And personally Gwaine was very keen about seeing Merlin do so because it sounded both dangerous and exciting, which was Gwaine's favorite combination for any scenario really.

"We'll split up," Arthur ordered, looking between them all somberly as he reiterated what Gwaine knew to be the finalized plan of action that had been presented in the meeting they all had held before setting out. "We'll go in small groups to the neighboring villages. No more than three knights to a group so as to better split up our efforts. We shall ask the people there what it is that they've seen, what they have heard. When we have finished investigating, we'll meet up before sundown in order to have enough time to set up camp - half a league from here toward Linidis is where we'll all meet. And from there, come daylight, we'll head together to Lord Belinant's estate." Arthur nodded and then looked away from the knights as he prompted his horse onward. "Merlin! You're with me."

Merlin nodded seriously - as if he and everyone else didn't know that would be the case because it was always the case - and guided the mare to Arthur's side, even though they were nearly at the same pace already. Sir Willingham likewise guided his horse forward and Gwaine frowned as the knight seemed to be keen on catching up to the king to discuss something. That didn't bode well - especially not if the knight wanted to request assisting the king, which would leave Merlin in company of someone who didn't know about his magic and thus hindered in the use of it. Willingham was too much of an unknown entity, having been on leave for some past few years for personal issues and only recently having returned to serve in the citadel rather recently.

"Gwaine, you want to join up with Percival and I?" Elyan asked, startling Gwaine from his thoughts.

"Thinking about joining up with the Princess," Gwaine answered honestly. He tilted his chin in the king's direction; instinctively Elyan and Percival both followed his gaze and also saw Willingham approach Arthur.

Elyan turned back to him and grinned. "Oh of course - you'd want to keep an eye on Merlin." Elyan nodded in understanding and then quickly called to the knight who had almost reached Arthur, obviously likewise assuming what his intentions were and putting a stop to it on Gwaine's behalf because he was a good friend. "Willingham, join up with me and Percival?"

Sir Willingham paused and turned in his saddle to look between the king and Elyan. Gwaine grinned when Willingham nodded hesitantly back toward Elyan and drifted away from where he had been almost approached Arthur - definitely to offer his services to him then, Gwaine thought and was gladdened to have Elyan intervened. "You're a sweetheart, Elyan, and every day that you bless me by your presence is all the better for it." 

Said knight laughed warmly. "You really are too much. If I was Merlin, I'd - " He mimed whacking Gwaine in the head as even though he was riding near to him he was too far away to reach across their horses and actually do so. " - if I heard you talking sweet like that to anyone else." 

The courting rumors had yet to die down it seemed. "It's not sweet. It's the truth." Gwaine shrugged. "Besides, Merlin doesn't mind." There was never any harm in leaning into the rumors. It was a useful strategy to deploy - and right funny on top of it, which was always a bonus in Gwaine's book.

"Of course Merlin mind." Elyan rolled his eyes. "Still. You should be more mindful of your intended." 

He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and decided to keep his reply vague enough that it was honest but that it could be misconstrued to further the assumptions. "Suppose you're right about that. Would hate to upset Merlin."  Which was true even if it wasn't true in the context being applied, of the assumptions Elyan was drawing from his words encouraging those assumptions.

Percival sighed and reached inside of his jerkin to his belt. He withdrew a coin and flipped it to Elyan, who caught it deftly from the air with a smug and handsome grin. 

"Percival thought there might be merit to the rumors that you and Merlin  had already eloped," Elyan explained and rotated the coin between his knuckles in such a way - dancing and gliding up and down between fingers with such a smooth ease - that Gwaine knew he'd later be asking for lessons from Elyan in how to achieve such a trick. "But I knew better."

"Oh?" Gwaine asked, curious as to the reasoning. Especially since Merlin and him weren't actually courting, but Gwaine wasn't going to go out of his way and correct anyone about it. It was very handy to have people believe that particular rumor, as no one questioned whenever Gwaine pulled Merlin away for a private word about magic; they all assumed perhaps that he was just taking him away somewhere to snog. Which was very convenient - and somewhat flattering to the ego, if Gwaine was being honest, that people thought he could have somehow landed a catch like Merlin. 

Not to mention that - even without it being strategically sound - it was downright plain ol' entertaining. Which is why he never intervened when the rumors first began.

Elyan grinned, his bright teeth catching the sunlight and further explained the wager. "I knew that - should Merlin marry - he would never do so without Arthur in attendance."  

It was very sound logic. He could see Elyan's point. Still, Gwaine laughed. "You'd be surprised! Merlin's a romantic at heart, you know? A private wedding? Imagine, if you would, a secluded meadow consisting of just the two intended and the officiate? Late autumn herbs sweet on the wind - thyme and fennel and far off sage from a different glen - as the sun sets down? Surrounded by aster flowers and holding each other's hand as well as an amaryllis flower? Mm, all of that has Merlin written all over it, don't you think?" Privately, Gwaine thought that Merlin would be the type to marry in the spring, not autumn, but he had to make do since it was what it was since the courting and elopement rumors had surfaced in the autumn. He also thought that Arthur would demand to be the officiate should such an elopement were to ever occur, could easily envision the false scene he had painted so prettily. "That is to say, should a thing were to have happened. Might have, might not have. But you can imagine it, can you not?"

The smile fell from Elyan's face. It was apparent that he too could also imagine the picture Gwaine had just created. He sighed deeply and then flipped the coin back to Percival, who caught it and pocketed it once more. "You know... you could always just answer us straightforwardly and put an end to our need to speculate once and for all." 

"Ah," Gwaine shook his head, "But where's the fun in that?" 

"We could always ask Merlin," Percival mused.

Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine all turned their heads to look forwards at Merlin, who was scowling something fierce - fierce enough to be seen as many paces back as the three of them were - while he gestured at Arthur rapidly as Arthur seemingly ignored him. Merlin's gestures became grander as his irritation grew and his voice became loud enough to hear him complain about turnip-faced royals. Arthur continued pretending to ignore him but it was surely impossible for him not to have heard.

"You could," Gwaine agreed politely. He almost wanted to see them try because now that was sure to be a funny sight.

Percival stared for a long moment at Merlin. And then he sighed in clear defeat, and Gwaine chuckled quietly to himself.

While Merlin was overwhelmingly kind and good, it was an obviously smart strategy to not direct his long winded lectures upon oneself. Because Merlin truly paid no heed to decorum and would rant - loudly and endlessly - at whomever incurred his annoyance, no matter the rank or class of the person. Merlin cared not for such things as class; he spoke his mind without restriction - and very creatively.  And very lengthily. Gwaine admired that about him. Actually, Gwaine admired many things Merlin, and that was just one of them. Merlin, Gwaine thought with a smile, was a man with many, many qualities that deserved to be admired.

While Merlin yelled at Arthur that he was a dimwitted heifer, Gwaine began to whistle merrily, letting the stream of creative insults bolster his spirits as only Merlin could. 

"Would you cut that out!" Arthur yelled back, finally haven given up pretending that he couldn't hear Merlin. Perhaps having lost the patience to do so.

"Only if you stop being an idiot," Merlin sniffed haughtily. 

Arthur rubbed a palm across his forehead. "Would you, please, just shut up?"

Merlin paused. It was easy to tell that he was torn between annoyed and appeased. "Well. Since you said 'please'..." Merlin paused for a long moment. And then he continued talking - clearly not shutting up - albeit his complaints about the king did, in fact, cease. Which, really, was the most Arthur should hope for when it came to Merlin. Gwaine grinned and continued whistling. After a few paces, Lancelot joined in the whistling as well from where he rode behind them with Leon.

Everything, Gwaine thought and laughed when Merlin turned in his saddle to peer curiously between Gwaine and Lancelot with a bemused smile, everything was bright and merry. Despite the cold air of winter around them, everything - everything - was warm.

Gwaine kept an eye on Merlin, even as he and Arthur's conversation no longer carried audibly to him. As he watched Merlin, Gwaine thought, not for the first time and it would not be for the last either, that it felt good to have a home.

When it came time for the groupings of knights to begin to diverge onward in different directions, Merlin and Arthur were joined by Gwaine. Arthur eyed him approvingly but, after instinctively smiling, Merlin frowned. "Hang on," He realized as he waved goodbye to Lancelot as he left with Leon in a different direction, "If there's two groups of three and one group of two, it should be split up instead into three groups of two."

"That's not true," Arthur corrected. "What we actually have are two groups of two and one group of three. Because, Merlin, you are not a knight and thus should be counted."

"Hey!"

"We're dividing the knights into groups," Arthur said. "Which means that it makes far more sense to divide everyone this way than your suggestion." At that even Gwaine nodded and so Merlin didn't rebut it, merely frowned unhappily.

But his frown quickly eased as the journey commence and discussion carried on and, before long, he and Gwaine were laughing merrily while Arthur smiled as the three of them rode on and conversed amiably, making steady progress as their horses carried them across the forestal that was mainly composed more of underbrush than trees and thus easy, quicker to navigate.

"I'm just saying!" Gwaine was laughing and Merlin shook his head.

Gwaine was a companion who was an expert in engaging his audience into easy chatter and, if necessary, lightening the mood; even when it wasn't necessary he often still uplifted the conversation. It was just more than a little jarring to have Gwaine use Merlin's magic as the topic to do so. "No. Absolutely not."

"Have you ever tried?" Gwaine persisted. Easily like he wasn't verbalizing one of Merlin's greatest kept secrets underneath the light of day and the occasional gaze of Arthur - who was of all things a combination of annoyed, amused, and likewise curious.

In theory it was all right to do so - it was just strange was all. Very very strange. Merlin never really talked about his magic like this. Casually. It always had a tendency to be in urgent, dire situations that he spoke of it. And this? Was mild and friendly and, well, easy. Merlin had never dreamed that it could be this easy.

Tilting his head, Merlin paused as he considered the counterpoint. "Well, no, but - "

"Aha! There you have it!" Gwaine interrupted. "We'll say your ability to fly is a firm 'maybe' then!"

Merlin shook his head again but he wasn't too invested in changing Gwaine's mind on it. Merlin wasn't even sure really how the discussion shifted on to the topic of what Merlin could or couldn't do with his magic - but it had, and now Gwaine had been gleefully drawing forth much laughter from all of them as a result. Which was... absolutely beyond everything Merlin could have possibly ever dreamed about, ever could have wished for during the nights when he used to lay awake and have his heart ache so badly because of his secret. It seemed too amazing, too bizarre, that his friends knew about his magic. In between the laughter, a small part of him worried he might wake up and discover that all of this was a dream and that it had never had been. Except, except...

Except everything was real. Everything was amazing.

Some of the tears in Merlin's eyes were from laughing too much and some of them were not; they were from the vulnerable awe of experiencing - well. Experiencing something Merlin had only fantasized about. His magic being accepted like this. The depth of his friendships. The full acceptance. The love.

"Tell me this then," Gwaine countered, and Merlin couldn't tell if Gwaine knew what he was doing - if he was purposely wreaking such gentle havoc upon him by doing this - because Gwaine was a very intuitive person who liked to pretend that he wasn't, "Can you do that thing where sorcerers disappear and relocate?"

"Disappear and...? Oh, you mean teleportation!" Merlin realized and nodded in understanding. Gwaine took it as confirmation and let out an excited sound. "Yeah, no, I can't." Gwaine sighed at that, his shoulders slumping a tad.

"What can you do?" Arthur scoffed, shaking his head, but there wasn't any true jeering in his voice. He too was quite obviously fascinated by the idea of Merlin's magic, even if he wasn't even half as vocal about it as Gwaine was. "Every single thing Gwaine has asked you about has been a no."

"I can do loads!" Merlin protested, except his mind had blanked on even one thing he could name. He hadn't actually ever prepared to list what he could do with his magic, not when he had spent his whole life preparing to claim he didn't even have any in the first place. "Er. Well. Just not those things, is all."

"Oh is that all?" Arthur did jeer this time and even turned his head to give Merlin a smarmy smirk.

"Hey!" Merlin narrowed his eyes.

"What about disguises?" Gwaine interrupted their sure to be argument that would derail the conversation.

"Now that," Merlin beamed, "I can do!"

"What, really?" Arthur gaped.

Merlin waved his hand vaguely. "Well, I mean - mostly. It depends, really."

Arthur groaned. Gwaine was not deterred. "What does that mean exactly? Can you turn into, say, Princess over here?"

"I can make myself look older," Merlin answered. "Which is pretty much the only disguise I know and I've only tested it on myself. So... Probably not. But I've never learned about it or tried, I guess?"

"Ah. Another maybe." Gwaine nodded. There were more 'maybes' than anything else mostly because Merlin just didn't have access to learn all these things that Gwaine thought up. He then paused for a moment. "Are mermaids real?" He asked and Merlin perked up in his saddle.

"Oh it's actually very interesting! Because there's a lot of conflicting accounts on what does and doesn't make a mermaid! And regionally the myths tend to even variate further, so to even answer that you have to first ask yourself: what is the definition of mermaid that we're even talking about and - "

Arthur groaned. Gwaine hushed him and looked at Merlin with wide, interested eyes. The king looked up to the sky and sighed dramatically as Merlin and Gwaine excitedly conversed about mermaids for the rest of the journey there.

When they arrived at the village, their horses immediately drew worried glances. Small children ran out of the houses to look upon the riders and giggle while the adults held them away if they ventured too near to the three of them. Arthur said nothing, but Merlin could see the way his jaw tightened as he looked upon his people so afraid. Arthur always took such things as his own personal burden to bear, a fault that he the king should be responsible for every misfortune and tragedy in Camelot even when it clearly could be no fault of his; often Merlin worried for him because of this. Arthur's compassion was seldom verbalized but was deeply and always ingrained in every one of his actions, shone through with brilliance and justice.

"That's King Arthur," Someone finally recognized and Merlin watched as the statement rippled through those were were there and the wary villagers' faces lit up with tentative hope. "That's King Arthur!"

"Gather the people," Arthur said quietly to a young man who watched them with wide eyes. The young man immediately hastened to do so, and soon the small crowd drawn by the sound of horse hooves grew into the entity of the small village, all gathered and murmuring to each other as they stared, awed, at the two knights of Camelot bespoke in its famous red capes - one of whom being King Arthur.

Regally, Arthur peered down at them from atop his horse, his gaze unwavering and his determination exuding from his entire being. He began to speak and the whole crowd hushed immediately. "I, King Arthur, have come to defend our people. It has been said that a fearsome beast - perhaps," Arthur added cautiously, "a beast in which takes the shape of a horse - is casting terror plight along the land and its people. I have come to put an end to this terror and you will suffer it no longer. But in order to slay such a beast, I need your help." Arthur paused then and locked eyes with the villagers deliberately, going from gaze to gaze patiently, and waited as they nodded their assent to do so.

Because of course they wanted to do so; besides the defeat of the beast motivating them, Arthur was so compelling and his speeches always seemed to reach into the hearts of the people and move them. Honestly, Merlin had always enjoyed watching Arthur give speeches for that exact reason - the casual command in which Arthur was able to connect and inspire with his words. The way that Arthur always seemed to know just how to give his strength to the people and lift their spirits. It made Merlin glad to be by his side, made his spirit uplifted as well as a result of Arthur's earnest and powerful way of talking. And even without knowing Arthur as Merlin did, there was something the villagers could trust - many things really - and Arthur's passion and earnestness was undeniable and compelling. He truly believed in the things that he said and, even more powerful, the things that he said truly made the people listening believe.

"Anything at all that you know," Arthur instructed, "Anything about it will be helpful in its vanquish. You can inform me, as well as my knight and my manservant, what it is you that know. In this matter, no detail is too small. We thank you for any help you can offer."

The murmur once again picked up - and part of it, Merlin knew, was because the king had thanked them, a small village. Arthur nodded once and then dismounted from his horse, bridging the gap between the king and his people in one easy motion that the villagers, rightfully, took as their cue to approach the three of them, offering all of the knowledge - eagerly and somberly in a strange sort of combination. Gwaine and Merlin too both dismounted and began to listen to the villagers all trying to offer their assistance.

It didn't take long to learn that there wasn't much to be offered that they didn't already know. They only knew that there was a great dark beast of a horse, that many men have gone missing - drowned, some have claimed - and that this beast must be stopped.

During a lull of talking when some of the villagers went to fetch refreshments for the king and his entourage, unswayed by any verbal declination that the three of them offered in order for the village to fully extend their hospitality, they took the time to privately confer with one another. Even so, Merlin turned his head, hiding his mouth behind one hand as he quietly spoke to Arthur and Gwaine. "The villagers don't know much. There isn't anything for me to, er, you know.. do." He couldn't actually say the word magic because it was still too strange a concept for him to actually speak of it to Arthur of all people after so long of hiding it. His words caused Arthur to frown; but, seeing as it was true, he didn't disagree and merely nodded.

Gwaine thought it over and then asked, voice low, "Do you think it's a waste to stay here then?"

Shaking his head, Merlin answered and lowered his hand from hiding his mouth. "Just because they might not know what to look for doesn't mean that there isn't anything to look for. However... It might be a bad sign that we've gone through half of them and haven't gotten anything useful."

Arthur sighed. "It would have been helpful if they had actually known something," He grumbled under his breath, to which Gwaine agreed. Even Merlin assented to the statement as he shrugged with his head tilted to concede the point. "We hear them all out," Arthur said quietly and looked to the remaining crowd with a resolved pinch in his brow. It hadn't, truthfully, even been a question really. Between the three of them, there was none who wanted to leave these people if staying could even chance increasing the likelihood that they would be able to defeat the kelpie before another life could be stolen by it.

Gwaine clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, as if to assist in fortifying them for the oncoming boredom and frustration. It worked too, since Merlin was reminded that no matter what - with or without any helpful information about the kelpie - Merlin wasn't alone in this. Unlike any of his times previous, this time he had his friends that knew the entirety of what was going on and were supporting him through it. These villagers probably weren't going to tell them a single iota of useful information but that was okay. Merlin had made do before with far, far less than he had now. Had made do sometimes - often times - all on his own with no support.

No, Merlin knew, no matter what they learned or failed to learn at this village, he was already held a great invaluable advantage: his friends.

"Do not be deceived and do not touch it!" A villager warned to Lancelot urgently, "One touch was all it took for that - that beast to drag sweet Tifaine into the lake."

That was a bold and unusual claim. One touch?

"We shall heed the warning." Leon inclined his head in thanks. "Does the horse remain at this lake?" He asked. The villager hesitated. Leon's eyes cut from the villager to Lancelot for a moment, sharply inquiring, and Lancelot offered a slow nod in return; both of them were in agreement then. "We can gather our comrades and return within the night; we are here to vanquish it and want to help."

Arthur had never said what to do if they found the horse. Because it had been assumed that it would take time to do so, that these scouting trips to the different villages were only a preliminary measure to better find it. It would be best then to regroup and inform the others. Because, even though it would involve the other knights, there was nothing to be done when encountering the beast if only magic could defeat it - they needed Merlin to be there.

"Alas," The villager answered, and Lancelot did not sigh out loud but instead in his heart. "You cannot help, for it has gone. But it surely will come back! A beast like that is unnatural! It won't be stopped on its own!"

Lancelot closed his eyes in lament that they had not found the horse. It had sounded so promising. But still... He looked at Leon, who appeared to be equally as resigned yet determined as he himself was. But still the information was better than naught. One touch was, apparently, all it took for the horse to bring upon one's death. When they found the horse and fought it, they would need to be much more than simply cautious. Even with Merlin's magic, the danger of it needing only a touch was a danger that could not be ignored.

The other groups of knights had reached the meeting point before they did but had yet to unpack anything; probably, Merlin supposed, waiting to make sure that Arthur actually arrived before settling in, just in case they needed to go off in rescue of him. Arthur dismounted and looked everyone over; satisfied that they were all there, he began directing them.

"Lancelot," Arthur commanded as Merlin and Gwaine likewise dismounted, "You're with me. We'll patrol the surrounding area and ensure everything is fine. Everyone else, clear the road and make camp wayward in the trees over there. Merlin, tether our horses."

Merlin nodded and grabbed the reigns to gently guide Arthur's horse and his own mare over toward the trees Arthur had directed them to. Lancelot and Arthur left to scout the area and the rest of them all walked their horses and supplies over to where the thicker condensation of trees offered better shelter away from the road.

Merlin had finished tethering the horses, had set up Arthur's tent, and had just finished setting up Lancelot's tent along with Leon's help when Gwaine called to him. "I'm done setting up my tent, come and share this bottle of wine with me, Merlin, like I promised," Gwaine offered and patted the tree root that burst out of the soil and was where he had sat down upon near where he had managed to kindle a fire.

"Merlin hasn't set up his own tent yet," Leon told the knight before Merlin could even respond. Leon made to set his tent up, nodding to Merlin's thanks in his contribution to constructing Lancelot's tent.

"Actually," Merlin said and he picked up his bedroll from where he had put all of his supplies that he had taken off of the mare when he'd tethered her and plopped his bedroll near Gwaine who grinned as he sat down on it next to him. "I don't have one."

Leon frowned. "You... don't have what?"

"A tent," Merlin clarified. Gwaine mooched his way over from the large tree root to Merlin's bedroll, and Merlin tucked his legs underneath each other in order to make more room for him since the terrain was rough and filled with roots, stones, and underbrush and he was more than happy to share his bedroll as a seat to make his friend temporarily comfier. Merlin peered at what was in Gwaine's hand and - sure enough - it was Merlin's favorite wine like Gwaine had promised to get, distinctive in how the carbuoy was made of green glass instead of pottery or skins like most wine containers. Merlin grinned, and Gwaine good-naturedly nudged Merlin's shoulder with his own before he went about opening the top, using one of his many rings to break the sealing wax stopper in a showcase of dramatics instead of just using a dagger to do so.

"Wait, Merlin, why don't you have a tent?" Elyan asked with a concerned look upon his face, pausing in his actions of pitching his own tent. He and Percival always took quite a long time setting their tents up; the two of them had the least amount of experience setting up tents, as they had tended not to use any before becoming knights, and Elyan claimed that he'd get used to it in time and just needed to practice more. There just wasn't much occasion to practice, as tents were rarely carried as they were the first thing to be considered unnecessary when needing to have more room to pack provisions.

"Because I have a bedroll." Merlin held the corner of it aloft for him to see it better in case his friend had not seen it. Gwaine offered him the first sip of the bottle, which was a very sweet and rather large gesture on Gwaine's part. Honored, Merlin accepted and then passed it back to Gwaine who took a much longer pull from it than Merlin had. Gwaine sighed happily and leaned further against Merlin's side; the armor was slightly uncomfortable to lean against but the intimacy of it was more than comfortable and Merlin wouldn't have it any other way.

Elyan only frowned deeper. "But... so do we? And we still have tents."

Merlin lowered the bedroll corner. "Yeah exactly." Gwaine nudged his shoulder and Merlin looked to see him once again offering the bottle. Merlin smiled at him and took a sip from it. Then he paused because he really should pace himself because he was extraordinarily bad when it came to alcohol tolerance; with that in mind, he took another, smaller sip, and handed it back to his friend. Gwaine accepted it back merrily - perhaps too merrily, Merlin felt like Gwaine knew exactly why he was rationing himself, had remembered how much of a lightweight Merlin was, and was laughing over it - and took a large swig.

Elyan looked at him, uncomprehendingly, for a long moment and then he looked around to the rest of the knights as if expecting to be the butt of a joke. When no one laughed, he turned back to Merlin. "But that doesn't make any sense." Leon had a rather perplexed look upon their face - and so did Willingham, who had sent up his tent quickly and then managed to catch a winter hare and was now roasting it over the fire Gwaine had built.

"Sure it does." When Gwaine nudged him again, he was expecting him to once more be offering him the green glass bottle of wine. Instead, grinning, Gwaine held in one upraised hand a pastry!

Merlin gasped, delighted, and Gwaine fondly laughed at how joyously Merlin accepted the buttery pastry with a jam center. "You really got this for me?" Merlin asked and he too laughed as he was astounded and filled with warmth at the notion and actuality of Gwaine having done so. The gesture of it before they had embarked on their journey when Gwaine had said he'd try to get him a pastry was nice enough But to actually achieve it? That was an amazing feat!

"Of course!" Gwaine looked at Merlin with such soft adoration that Merlin couldn't help but to laugh again, jubilant in how dearly he treasured his friends and how dearly they treasured him back. It was something that he never got used to, that feeling of being so warm with the love from his friends.

He began to eat the pastry with much gratitude but then realized Gwaine hadn't pulled out one for himself and paused even though the pastry was delicious and was flavored by jam made up of blackcurrants and blueberries - both which were out of seasonal and it felt almost like a feat of magic to be able to taste such a piece of summertime in the middle of winter. "Where's yours?"

"Merlin," Gwaine shook his head, and he was close enough that his hair tickled at it hit Merlin's ear during the motion. "It was a miracle to even get away with one. Two? Who do you think I am?"

Which made sense. Especially since, knowing that the fruit jam was made of summer fruits, Cook must has guarded these pastries more prominently than she regularly did too. She had probably used the jam solely to cheer Gwen up due to that all of her loved ones were about to set off on a perilous quest; it was probably supposed to comfort her since Gwen's favorite jam was strawberry but the strawberries hadn't done so well this year's summer harvest and there wouldn't be any of that jam sequestrated away now in winter - but Gwen's second favorite jam was currants and blueberries. Even Cook had a soft spot for Gwen. But, Merlin knew without a doubt, Gwen would be more than happy with them sneaking some because she'd caught him many, many times doing exactly that - because it was hard to sneak them without getting caught, but at least it had been Gwen and not Cook - and hadn't ever once told Cook about it - even whenever the pastries were her favorites and made probably to cheer Gwen up even if Cook denied it Gwen had, in fact, often found great humor in Merlin's doing so.

But still. Even though absconding away with one pastry was difficult, Merlin was saddened that Gwaine had given up thqt pastry to Merlin but also very much endeared by him having done so; it was just so incredibly sweet of Gwaine but Merlin wished that he had realized Gwaine didn't have one before he had eaten most of it - that way, he could have shared with him! "If anyone could do it, it'd be you."

Not at all saddened by his plight of having given the only pastry to Merlin, Gwaine laughed again - this time heartily. "Merlin, you have too much faith in me."

"No," He immediately protested, but Gwaine interrupted his protests before they could truly begin to take shape.

"But you'd be right to." And, wondrously, he pulled forth another pastry, hidden away in his jerkin and protected by a small cloth wrapping. Merlin happily laughed, and he felt amazed and delighted by this sweet surprise. Gwaine winked, setting down the bottle of wine to rest against his thigh in order to use both hands to split the pastry clumsily and kept one half for himself and generously handed the other half to Merlin even though he'd already had a whole one to himself when Gwaine had so far had none.

Merlin accepted it with a wide smile as crumbs spilled between their fingers and were caught ever so carefully. "Gwaine!" He laughed the name in delight, too jubilant to form more words than that.

Having finished setting up his own tent, Percival clamped a hand down on Elyan's shoulder. Not expecting the contact, the shorter knight jumped a bit. "Merlin shares a tent with Lancelot." He said, answering Elyan's question from earlier.

"Oh." Elyan paused, still working on his own tent, and Percival set about to helping him with it. "Oh, thank you. But still - why doesn't he have a tent of his own?"

He seemed rather hung up on that, Merlin thought and turned away from laughing with Gwaine to answer him, mouth still half full of delicious pastry. "Well who would carry it?"

Elyan blinked and then looked at him rather strangely. "You?" To that, Leon nodded in agreement. The rest of the knights all were looking on in curiosity - even Willingham, who Merlin didn't know very well at all.

Merlin scoffed but was careful not to spill out any pf the precious and hard won pastry from his mouth while doing so. "I think not - I already carry my other provisions and all of the medical supplies."

Elyan considered it. "So you just? What? Share with Lancelot every time?"

"Not every time," Merlin answered. "Usually it's warm enough just for  me to use the bedroll. Really, how often do we even use tents? Only in poor weather. And sometimes not even then, you know?" It was just because this particular winter was so cold that all the knights had brought theirs; that usually was not the case at all.

"What do you do if Lancelot's not there?" Elyan persisted.

Merlin shrugged. "Sometimes I share with Gwaine."

Both Elyan and Percival turned to look at Gwaine, who grinned rather cheekily back and grabbed the green glass bottle of wine and raised it in salute. The two knights quickly looked away and back to Merlin, almost as if they were embarrassed, which was a bit strange.

"That makes sense." Percival said, which Merlin supposed it did since it was a bit obvious that Merlin and Gwaine were very close to each other. Especially made obvious when the two were indulging in a private picnic together as well. Beside him, Gwaine chuckled softly.

At that moment, Arthur and Lancelot approached, having returned from scouting the perimeter around them.

"The area seems to be clear," Arthur announced and thrust his hands over the fire to warm them. "We found a river down - " When Arthur made to point at which direction he cut off abruptly. "Hang on," He said and narrowed his eyes at Gwaine. "Are you drinking wine? From a glass bottle? And is that a pastry?"

"Why, did you want some?" Gwaine asked instead of answering plainly and lifted the bottle to take another sip with an eyebrow raised. Meanwhile, Merlin crammed the rest of the pastry in his mouth because he really did not want to have to share.

"Where did you even - you carried this with you? The whole time?" Arthur demanded, sentences cutting into each other. He seemed to realize something and then pursed his mouth unhappily. It was, Merlin agreed silently, absurdly impractical to carry around a glass bottle when a wine skin could have been used. Still, Gwaine had done so. All because Merlin happened to prefer that kind.

"A river, my Lord?" Leon prompted before Arthur could angrily divulge what it had been that he had just realized.

"Yes," Lancelot said when Arthur said nothing, and he at least looked amused by Gwaine's having done so. "It's not too far from here actually."

"That means we can refill the canteens," Merlin realized. That was always good news. Rationing water was always disadvantageous - as well as miserable. They should arrive at Belinant's estate tomorrow, which should allow them to replenish their supply, but it was always better to be prepared for the worst case scenario.

"You can refill the canteens," Arthur corrected, and Merlin rolled his eyes. 

"I'll do it in the morning," Merlin promised and then nudged Gwaine's shoulder. Kindly, Gwaine passed him the bottle of wine. Arthur let out a scoff as Merlin drank from it.

"Gwaine, you're on first watch," Arthur assigned pointedly, clearly unimpressed by Gwaine's taking a glass bottle, something rare and needlessly fragile, upon their journey instead of just taking a normal, durable wine skin. "You too, Killian."

For a moment Merlin had absolutely no clue who Arthur had been talking to - but then Sir Willingham made a noise of what presumably was agreement, so Killian must have been his first name, Merlin supposed. It was an oddity in itself that WIllingham was known by his last name, since nearly all of the knights in Camelot were known by their first name, as the title of knight usually outranked any previous title of nobility they may have held. And because knights from the same family name were too confusing when addressed that way. It was actually sort of strange and he couldn't help but wonder why it was the case that Willingham was known instead by his last name.

"And Merlin? Don't forget that it only takes you half a sip of wine to get drunk hmm?" Arthur grinned and the knights laughed at his statement - which, frankly, was slanderous because, yes, he had a low alcohol tolerance, but it took him at least four sips! Smug with his successful razzing, Arthur disappeared into his tent, which Merlin had set up for him while Lancelot and the king had been patrolling.

"Merlin," Lancelot tilted his head towards his own tent, which had been a combination of efforts between Merlin and Leon to set up. Elyan let out a soft noise as Lancelot did so, perhaps now realizing for the first time what was so familiar of a practice that Lancelot needed not to even phrase the question into words.

"It's been lovely," Merlin said as he turned to Gwaine, who lightly knocked his knuckles against Merlin's shoulder as a way of affection. "But I'll be needing my bedroll back now. Thanks for the wine and thank you for the pastries."

"Any time," Gwaine promised and stood with flourish, careful with the still very much mostly full bottle of wine as he dramatically did so.

And with his last laugh for the night, Merlin gathered his bed roll and headed towards Lancelot's tent.

Just when Merlin had thought Lancelot to be asleep, Lancelot turned over to his side and faced Merlin, close enough to share secrets and breath alike. It was a ritual of friendship between them that had existed ever since Merlin had met him: the two of them sequestrating away in private to talk, hushed, about secret things that could only be discussed with each other. This, thankfully, seemed to be something that would remain unchanged, even though there were others now who knew of Merlin's magic, and Merlin was gladdened by that continuity and grateful for it. These talks between them were precious to Merlin and he wouldn't give them up if he had the choice of it, even with the others now knowing. It was just different; and not, solely, because Lancelot was the first to know. No, it was more to do with the core of Lancelot's being - the way he understood Merlin to the very depths of his soul in a way that no one else really had ever done. Merlin and Lancelot just got along well and understood each other, and Merlin couldn't articulate why this was so but it was.

Lancelot's dark eyes were serious. "Leon and I today were, I believe, the most prosperous in locating where the horse most often dwells."

"You found the kelpie?" Merlin asked, eyes widening. The sooner the kelpie was found, the quicker he could deal with it - that is to say, Merlin winced, if he ever came up with a way to deal with it. He was resolute in trying in any case because what other choice did he have? Still, he was both gladdened that it had been found so quickly and dismayed that it had been found too quickly that he wasn't quite prepared for it.

Lancelot shook his head, the motion a tad awkward as he lay on his side. His winter-long hair was close enough to tickle at Merlin's ear at the motion; Lancelot preferred to trim his hair short these days but he also often left it alone during the colder weather. It wasn't nearly as long now as it had been when Merlin had first met him but it was still longer now than the length he usually kept it. Sometimes seeing his winter-long hair made Merlin a touch nostalgic to when they first had met, even though it was still several. "No. But the village has had many witness firsthand the horse drowning people and can account of the event to some description. From what I gathered from the other group, they didn't encounter nearly as many witnesses, nor the detail. How fared your group?"

"No," Merlin breathed. "Not even close."

Lancelot's expression became thoughtful as he mulled that over."The village Leon and I went to - perhaps the horse haunts that village more frequently than the others?"

It was very possible. "What should we do?" Merlin asked and bit his lip. The two of them, perhaps, could wait until everyone had fallen asleep and then leave together to see if they could find - and defeat - the kelpie. Except, it would be hard to sneak their horses away without awakening any of the knights but they definitely could not travel all the way to the village - let alone and then back again - without the horses. And Merlin still had yet to figure out what kind of magic would actually be effective against the kelpie; like nearly everything, he probably would never know until he tried it out against the kelpie.

Lancelot's face creased as he frowned. "We don't do anything," He said instead of anything Merlin had been expecting.

Which made no sense. Thinking he had misheard, Merlin asked, "What?"

"Merlin," Lancelot said, his voice going softer than it had been before, and he stared at Merlin equanimously. "We already have an established plan. There's no need to try and locate the horse in secret. Tonight, the only thing you and I need to do?" Merlin nodded quickly. "That is to get some rest."

"Oh." Even though these private talks were left unchanged, that didn't mean that Merlin had to do everything on his own. It was good of Lancelot to remind him of this because it was such an ingrained instinct in him that it had been too easy to rely on only himself and Lancelot when, in fact, he had others he could entrust - others he should entrust.

Lancelot's smile was warm but also a touch knowing. He turned over and settled into a more comfortable position to fall asleep. "Sleep well, Merlin."

Merlin stared for a moment at the back of his friend's head and then he too settled down. "You too."

Merlin woke alone in the tent. It wasn't that he was a late sleeper; Lancelot always just seemed to awaken early in the morning, no matter what.

"Merlin! How's the headache?" Gwaine asked cheekily upon seeing him emerge from the tent. Arthur appeared amused at he razzing that his last night's comment about Merlin's intolerance for alcohol had stirred.

"Ha, ha." Merlin replied sarcastically and moved closer to the small fire that Gwaine and some of the other knights were near. Gwaine was once again perched upon the upraised and enlarged root of a tree that bore through the ground and was using it as a seat. Gwaine laughed as Merlin balanced precariously on the slope of the same root and pitched forwards, wildly unbalanced, and almost slid off the root entirely - but he didn't fall off so there! He knew that the other knights were laughing at him now but he hadn't fallen so really they had no ground to stand on. He deliberately glared at Leon and Lancelot, the both of whom that had laughed the loudest at him. "I don't have one and you know it. Why? What about yours?"

Gwaine barked out a laugh at Merlin's ineffective attempt to counter Gwaine's teasing. "If you think one bottle of wine is cause for me to wake with a headache the next day, then I suppose you don't know me as well as I thought!" The comment was clearly in jest, Gwaine knowing that Merlin did know but had ploughed on in the attempts to tease back, and so Merlin smiled and shook his head. The jeer hadn't been his smartest or sharpest by far. "Besides, I shared the bottle with Percival actually. His complements to your taste in wine, by the way."

"I thought he was more of an ale person," Merlin commented and tried to remember the last time he and the knights had been at an inn or a tavern when Percival had drank anything. He looked  to him for answer but did not see Percival around the camp and assumed him off hunting or foraging  - with Willlingham, perhaps, who was also missing.

"Perhaps." Gwaine shrugged. "But why must one limit oneself?"

"Merlin!" Arthur called, perhaps interrupting them now that their jeering had ended and was no longer amusing. Merlin privately rolled his eyes at Gwaine, who smiled at his antic. He stood up from the root and walked over to where Arthur was standing.

"You're up awful early," Merlin greeted him with a wide grin. "And all by yourself too!"

Arthur feinted a scowl, the expression clearly tinged with some fond exasperation. "Yes, it's been known to happen - especially when my manservant sleeps the entire morning away."

Arthur was always so dramatic! Merlin had hardly slept the morning away at all. "I have not," He said because he hadn't.

Arthur carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "Run down to the river and fill up the canteens."

"What, all of them?" Merlin asked just to be difficult. He'd been planning on later doing so anyways but it was the point of it; Arthur could at least be nice about asking. "By myself? I don't even know where the river is."

"Head in that direction," Arthur clamped both hands on each of Merlin's shoulders and physically rotated Merlin's body to face it. "And even you can't miss it."

Merlin nodded. "Alright, alright. But while I'm off doing that, you're packing up your own tent!"

"Just get on with it, would you?" Arthur ordered but made no disagreement to Merlin's demand. Which sounded to Merlin like a reason to grin back at him cheekily over his shoulder before getting on with it.

"Ah." Leon said suddenly, like he was having a quiet epiphany and Lancelot looked to him. "Should we be concerned that we sent Merlin by himself to a river when somewhere there's a horse drowning people in bodies of water?"

The knights stilled. All were filled with dread, with concern.

Right, Lancelot thought, and stood up as Arthur let out a quiet cut-off swear.

"I'll go after him," Lancelot offered. The anxious worry melted slightly from Arthur's face but didn't clear all the way.

"You're a good man, Lancelot," Arthur said and nodded.

Lancelot didn't know if that was true. But he was, whenever he could, doing his uttermost to be so and endeavored every day to better himself.

The feeling of it appeared to have come suddenly, but also like it had secretly been silently building, insidiously stalking him and growing all the while, without him noticing until this very moment that he could ignore it no longer and first became of it. Accelerated by its surreptitious way of concealment having until now been unforeseen, undetected. 

Merlin's footsteps slowed when the feeling of not being alone suddenly crept up on him.

He couldn't say what the change was, exactly, but it was definitely, irrevocably there. He looked around to the trees around him. Yet there was nothing, no one, that appeared to be there. Merlin paused completely and he simply stood there for a moment. Listening and glancing about the landscape that was scarce of anything beside rocks, bushes, and trees. Because it sure felt like something was there, like someone's gaze had caught upon him with enough intensity to have made him feel it. He tilted his head as he listened to the wind rattle through the empty branches of winter trees with little to no leaves. But other than the trees, there was nothing.

"Right." Merlin said to himself and slowly scanned around him one last time. The feeling of not being alone was still ever present, ever alarming. But there was no one - creature nor man - to be found. There was little he could do about the feeling. Because nothing was there.

So he shrugged and continued walking, a little faster than he had been because while he was certain it was nothing, it still never hurt to just be a little cautious. And despite what Gaius might think, Merlin did try to be cautious - on occasion, at least.

Even though he was cure it had been nothing, he was still glad when he drew close enough to it that he heard the sounds of the river; his footsteps quickened even more as he hastened towards the water with a relieved sigh. Finally arrived to it, the short distance having felt much longer in his suspense.

And then he abruptly froze, horrified.

Merlin accidentally dropped some of the canteens in his shock. Immediately he adverted his gaze from the river.

Well, not the river exactly. Because - what he hadn't been at all expecting - there was a woman that perched on a large rock in the middle of the river and soaking her legs in the water. And she was naked. Utterly, completely naked - except for her incredibly long black hair that draped over her shoulders and down her body like a very flimsy robe that didn't have the ability to completely conceal her features but at least had given her some semblance of - of privacy.

"I am so sorry!" Merlin raised his voice to call out to her as he resolutely kept his gaze on a tree with his back to the river. His ears were burning and he felt absolutely terrible about having accidentally wandered upon her. "I didn't realize!" He continued, very chagrined and very mortified. The feeling of discombobulation was terrible and inescapable as he wondered why it was him who this had happened to; the woman, Merlin abashedly thought, was probably wondering the same exact thing. "I mean, I was expecting anyone to - " He cut himself off because it seemed terribly, terribly inappropriate to remind her of her nakedness. Merlin's flush intensified. "Um. I'm just really sorry."

She didn't say anything in reply. Which Merlin thought to be fair - especially as shocked as he was, she was certain to feel even more so shocked.

"You know what?" Merlin decided. "I'll just - come back later. Much, much later. You take all the time you need to - " Merlin cleared his throat. "Right." He hastily took a step to flee but then paused because, underneath the mortification and the blood that was rushing to his head, there was a deep and pervading feeling of wrongness that he couldn't quite place as he moved to leave. It seemed off somehow, like Merlin was missing something obvious. And then he realized that the woman hadn't said anything at all - not even a shout when Merlin had appeared. And he had thought it due to her shock but, perhaps, what if it was something else? What if that was the reason why it felt off kilter when he tried to leave?

"Are you all right?" Merlin asked and his eyebrows lowered at the possibility that she wasn't. And, now that he had noticed it, he didn't just feel mortified, didn't just feel off kilter either. Because underneath his embarrassment and regret, he could sharply feel the sensation of danger. That something was beyond wrong - there was something actually wrong.

He frowned because something was very very off, something was wrong, and his embarrassment and unease when departing were only a distraction to the feeling of a deeper, worse wrongness that felt awfully like when he had a bad feeling about things - and then they turned out that Merlin's bad feeling was almost a premonition.

The woman didn't answer. Merlin knew that she was still there though for two reasons. The first being that he hadn't heard any splashing of the water to indicate that she had left. The second being that he was very, very aware of the feeling of a gaze fixed intently upon him. And right, he probably wouldn't have answered either if he was her. But still...

The feeling of her intense gaze felt eerily familiar.

"I won't turn around!" He promised and tried to shake of the sensation of wrongness that permeated through him. There was no other word for it. It was twofold in its presence: the uneasy wrongness that crept over him when he tried to bring himself to leave the woman and the eerie, deeper wrongness that crept over him that felt like a warning."I'm just worried. You are all right, aren't you? You're just... bathing?"

His heart was beating faster; he tried to ignore it. Because perhaps this was just like the forest and nothing was there, nothing was wrong. Perhaps it was just a harmless albeit strange bad feeling that would, after all, go away. But it sure felt like something was there, like something was wrong. But he couldn't shake the feeling and it became even more important to know if the woman was all right or not because they were, perhaps, in danger. A danger Merlin that couldn't pinpoint but, slowly, was realizing to be very real.

He didn't think it would happen but the woman spoke. It seemed like ages since he had asked her the question; it was, he thought, in actuality perhaps only a moment or two since he had done so. Her voice was sure and unaffected in its clear resonance, "I am."

"Right." Merlin sighed, relieved, and tried to ignore both the deep flush of embarrassment on his face and the icy chill that was running down his spine and could not be misconstrued as have coming from the winter coldness. No, the chill was uncanny in origin, was clearly a warning Merlin had been foolish to ignore for so long. And, worse, he had the strangest suspicion that the reason to it was caused by the strange woman.

He took in a sharp breath.

No. It wasn't a suspicion. Now that he had stopped denying the unsettling warning's existence, the feeling was becoming more clear. The warning - that deeper, insidious wrongness that chilled him - it was happening because of her.

His words to her felt like ash upon his lips. "I'll, um, leave you to it. Sorry again about that!"

As he quickly left - each step strangely difficult and filled with that earlier sense of wrongness, the strange one that hadn't been the warning inside of him but instead had been what? had been her somehow? - he didn't have to see it to know that her intent gaze still followed him all the while.

And - it was strange - because the further and further away he walked from the river, the more that the unsettling miasma began to grow and fade away. The wrongness of leaving the river, of leaving her, grew and grew. But the eerie wrongness - the worse of the two he felt - eased with the distance he scrambled to put between them.

Still, when he stumbled upon Lancelot, the relief was insurmountable.

"All right there?" He asked with a worried frown as he took in Merlin's stunned appearance and the amount of relief in Merlin's exhale of his name upon seeing him; he reached out a hand and laid it upon Merlin's shoulder as he did so.

"Fine, fine," Merlin said quickly and looked over his shoulder towards the river, as if to check that he wasn't being haunted or stalked. "What about you? What are doing here?"

Lancelot's eyes were narrowed when he looked back to him. He gently squeezed Merlin's shoulder and then removed his hand. "I've come to offer aid. In case you encountered the kelpie."

"Oh!" Merlin laughed, cheered up a little by the absurdity of it. It felt good to laugh, even of the echoes of the wrongness from before still seemed to linger in his pulse.  "We've all been looking for the kelpie all  of yesterday and you think I'd - what? Just stumble upon it?" 

Lancelot dipped his head to the side, looked less concerned now over Merlin. "We thought it best."

"We?" Merlin asked. "Wait, you all thought this? You all really actually thought I'd just run into the kelpie and - " He paused. "Actually, you know what? With my luck, I probably would. So. Thanks."

"Anytime," Lancelot promised. And Merlin knew that to be true.

They walked back to rejoin the others and Merlin tried not to again look over his shoulder towards the river to check if something was there.

And, eventually, both of the terrible bad feelings he'd had before dissipated like an exhalation of breath in cold weather. Visible and there without any doubt whatsoever.

Upon their arrival to the campsite, Merlin dropped his armful of canteens down on the ground.

"These are empty," Arthur realized with a frown as he picked his up - which, really he should have been able to tell that from the lack of thudding when the canteens had been dropped, Merlin thought. Beside him, Lancelot gave him a curious look and the worry of before returned upon his face, which made Merlin feel bad and like, perhaps, he should have divulged to him what had happened at the river. He hadn't wanted to talk about it. And, he realized, it'd be hard to explain. The only word that encompassed it was wrongness - and even then, it didn't do it justice as there were two layers to that, two different wrongnesses that coexisted then. "What have you been doing? Did you get lost on your way to the river?"

"Ah, no." Merlin answered. He'd like it if that would have been that and no one would ask any more questions about it. It was, he knew, not likely to happen but he still wished it to be.

Arthur waited, perhaps for him to elaborate. Merlin did not. He somewhat hoped that Arthur would just... let it go and Merlin wouldn't have to explain at all.

"Well?" Arthur finally asked with an impatient huff because of course he wasn't going to just let it go and Merlin sighed. "What's your excuse for it? At least go on and make it a new one, won't you?"

"I didn't get lost," Merlin informed him and ignored the teasing as well as Lancelot's subtly concerned gaze. "It's just..."

Arthur leaned forward pointedly when Merlin trailed off. "It's just...?"

Well, if he wanted to know so badly, Merlin would tell him. "There was a woman. In the river. And she was naked." That was the truth, after all. It just wasn't all of the truth.

There was silence. Even the knights fell quiet, and Merlin hadn't realized anyone beside Arthur and Lancelot had been listening in. His ears burned. The embarrassment he had initially felt - before the wrongness - surged back into him with a vicious force.

"There was..." Arthur began to repeat incredulously but then broke off, as if unable to even verbalize it.

Merlin nodded. "Mm hmm."

"In the river?" Arthur verified, looking embarrassed and stunned. He wasn't even the one who'd had to experience it either, Merlin thought. Again, Merlin nodded.

"Well, that is a new one." Percival muttered, and Merlin silently agreed. He had until now - thankfully - never encountered this happening on any of their other journeys.

The shock seemed to settle somewhat because Arthur began to frown, concern growing upon his face. "You said she was in the river? She was... alive, I presume?"

"She was bathing." Merlin explained, and Arthur's frown quickly made into embarrassment once more.

"Right. Right... Was she alone?" Arthur asked and looked embarrassed still but also appeared to be concerned about the potential of a maiden without anyone to protect her.

"Well, you see, I didn't linger to find out," Merlin responded. It was easy - and a welcome relief - to be able to shift back into bantering with Arthur. "Seeing as that she was naked and all."

Immediately Arthur flushed. "No, no, of course not." His voice was pitched rather high and he cleared his throat. Then he adverted his eyes, as if the woman was before him and he needed to advert his gaze from her immodest state but of course she wasn't. She was, presumably, back at the river - being naked. And very dangerous, but Merlin firmly wasn't thinking about that. "But certainly after you had come across her, she must have redressed by now, don't you agree? Should we not go and make certain that she is all right and doesn't need an escort?"

Merlin raised judgmental eyebrows at Arthur. "I'm really not inclined to go and look, Sire." At that, the other knights snickered and Arthur appeared even more mortified before he scowled. Now there was no need to explain the unearthly wrongness that should keep them from going there.

Despite his scowl, Arthur's voice pitched even higher. "I am not suggesting - "

Merlin cut him off. "Of course not. However," He paused in his teasing because he knew Arthur would truly be worried about her, "From what I could tell, she didn't appear to be in any distress and said she was fine when I asked her." It indeed soothed some of Arthur's worry knowing that Merlin had asked her but he still looked towards the direction of the river with a frown. "Of course," Merlin continued now that Arthur wasn't quite as fretful, "If you want to be the one to go peeping on a bathing woman, I feel somewhat honor bound to at least try and stop you."

The knights chortled as Merlin jestingly raised his fists as if prepared to brawl with the king. Arthur, face red, at last looked away from where the river's direction. "That won't be necessary," His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I'm sure you're right and that, should she have been distressed, she would have told you when you asked."

"Mm." Merlin nodded.

It seemed the shock had worn off and the knights had turned to amused.

"Merlin, you scoundrel!" Gwaine scolded and pretended to be deeply disappointed in Merlin, as if Merlin had done it on purpose. "How could you?"

"I am shocked!" Elyan agreed and grinned, unable to keep much of a straight face as they teamed up against him. "How indecent of you!"

"Cad," Percival agreed solemnly.

"It is most... improper," Willingham joined in, his teasing a bit awkward as he glanced around the knights - and especially to Arthur - as if to make sure that he hadn't crossed a line. And in any other time, Merlin would have been glad that he had joined in - but really! He had to pick now of all the times?

"Where has my sweet Merlin gone?" Gwaine lamented dramatically and threw an arm over his face in a manner that was equally as dramatic. "I don't even know  who this man is that would spy upon a woman bathing! Surely he is not our Merlin! Begone and give us back our sweet darling Merlin!"

"I need you... to shut up," Merlin said - a truly pithy rebuttal and he didn't blame Gwaine one bit for laughing at him when he said it - and tried to pretend that his face wasn't on fire and probably very, very pink. It was good that they were all not suspicious of the unearthly wrongness that had been at the river, but goodness did they have to do this?

Gwaine, as ever, did not shut up. "Just so you know," He said and switched tactics of teasing, "I won't forgive you if you decide you must run off and elope with some random, strange woman because you've accidentally stumbled upon her naked and now feel honor bound to marry her because of it. I'm going to be extremely cross if you try it, I'll tell you that much."

"Don't forget your prior commitment, Merlin." Leon said and then laughed at his own teasing, his face brightening up in the way it always did whenever Leon laughed.

"Very true!" Gwaine snapped his fingers, the thought of it only currently occurring to him now that Leon had mentioned it. "I'm a jealous man, Merlin, and my heart can't bear it if you leave me for her - especially in the name of decorum instead of love."

Confused, Arthur's interest was piqued. "What's that?"

"Hmm?" Gwaine asked, puzzled for a moment, and then he'd realized what Merlin had been hoping that he wouldn't ever realize: that Arthur wasn't yet aware of the rumors of courting started because of the stupid pages who'd seen Gwaine give Merlin a necklace. Gwaine's grin turned delighted on the verge of wicked. "Oh, you haven't heard the news?" He asked, looking more smug than Merlin had ever seen him, playing with the king like a cat toying with a mouse in its clutches.

He had him right where he wanted him too, and Merlin sighed when Arthur asked, "Heard what?"

"Gwaine," Merlin warned because it was a miracle that Arthur hadn't already heard the courting rumors - and he'd like to keep it that way.

"Merlin," Gwaine answered back in kind, grin widening.

"Sire," Lancelot said sternly and Merlin's hackles lowered because Lancelot would help deescalate the situation. "Have you not heard?"

Or not.

"Heard what?" Arthur asked as Merlin narrowed his eyes at Lancelot and silently dared him to continue.

Unfortunately, Lancelot was as brave as he was anything and he very much dared. "Merlin and Gwaine are said to be courting."

Merlin stood up abruptly and absolutely did not look at the king as Arthur loudly exclaimed in shock, "What?"

"You know what?" Merlin said and made to leave. "I'm going to go, ah, fill the canteens in a different river."

"What river?" Elyan teased while Merlin hastily grabbed an armful of empty canteens and sped away.

"I'll find one!" Merlin called over his shoulder and determinedly ignored the knights who laughed at him as he fled - which would certainly give enough time for Gwaine to cause further chaos in his absence- while Arthur angrily and loudly shouted for him to get back there and explain himself.

Lancelot followed him like a silent, very amused shadow. Merlin huffed and gave him a look but Lancelot's expression was very deliberately serene as he stared back, so Merlin couldn't even accuse him of making fun of him even though he knew he was. Otherwise Lancelot would have said nothing to Arthur in the first place!

"You could at least help carry some," Merlin said and tried to hold on to his annoyance as Lancelot graciously inclined to share the awkwardly held burden of the many canteens near spilling out of Merlin's arms. "Thanks," He grumbled because he knew - he just knew - that Lancelot was laughing at him and it wasn't fair. He'd like to see what any of the rest of them would have done had they been in any of those scenarios! From the woman at the river to the courting rumors swanning about! Any of them - all of them - would have been equally as mortified as he had been and would have fled from them like he had.

"You are an ass." Merlin grumbled. Lancelot hummed, did not dispute it. The problem, Merlin thought grumpily, with Lancelot is that he always forgot how mischievous he was underneath all that gentle tenderness and loving nature. Lancelot had no problem showing affection to his friends - and, unfortunately, had no problem teasing his friends either. Lancelot's wicked sense of humor was something Merlin often laughed at and rarely was on the receiving end of - no that was Lancelot's dark and morbid sense of humor that Merlin typically was made central figure to.

Merlin waited until he had stormed off far away enough from the knights that he could simply magic some water into the canteens instead of finding a new river. Approvingly Lancelot lifted his eyebrows at him, his eyes alight with the shared humor of Merlin's magic, and Merlin sagged and accepted the mild truce even though Lancelot could have at least been a little sorry about the whole thing. It's just that Merlin wasn't actually mad; he was just dreadfully, terribly embarrassed and really that was worse. He'd rather be mad in all honestly because then he could actually yell about it.

Eventually they had to return with the filled canteens, which predictably set off a chorus of teasing from everyone as had Merlin filled them the first time there would have been no need to venture out a second time. Even Willingham joined in on teasing him about it. And he didn't know what had been said to placate Arthur - wasn't sure he wanted to know - but Arthur now grinned merrily instead of looking as shocked as if someone had suddenly smashed a great big log over his head.

Arthur's eyes still glittered in amusement when he put an end to the knights' current teasing. "We'll just have to replenish our supplies at Belinant's estate, as we originally planned on doing. Let us set out for it."

Which, at least Merlin's canteen adventures had absolved him of having to pack anything. Someone had even rolled Merlin's bedroll for him while he'd been gone! Merlin sighed and shook his head at his friends who teased him so but would then turn around and do sweet gestures like these. Truly, he supposed, he himself did the same for them.

"Need a hand?" Lancelot offered as Merlin approached his mare. And Merlin wasn't too annoyed to down an offer like that. Despite his burning pink ears, he offered Lancelot a fond look as his friend helped boost him up to reach the stirrups.

"And Merlin?" Arthur called and, once firmly seated on the saddle, he turned to look. "Do invite me to the hand-fasting ceremony, won't you?"

Merlin huffed out a breath and glared at Lancelot and Gwaine.

"Ah! Now we know that he didn't already officiate it," Elyan said triumphantly to Percival, who nodded.

But then Percival cocked his head and frowned. "Could have still done it without him though."

The two of them looked to Merlin as if for answer or input.

"What?" Merlin asked, confused and suspicious of an oncoming punchline, his eyebrows lowering on his face. And then he decided that maybe he didn't want to know.

All of them were terrible friends, really, and so Merlin kept pace with Willingham instead, whose first name Merlin had forgotten. Which, he had joined in on the teasing earlier, but Merlin was trusting in their unfamiliarity with each other to prevent him from teasing him too much as the other knights would have.

Willingham looked at him curiously but then left him alone. He wished that he could say the same of the rest of them. Gwaine blew a kiss to Merlin; he had no choice, really, but to drop a tree branch on his head in retaliation. Lancelot turned in his saddle and gave him a look that was a cross between disapproving and amused; but it had been a small tree branch, and so the amusement in the end won out.

Still, that didn't much stop the playful jeering and Merlin didn't begrudge them for it since, admittedly, he'd have done the same if it hadn't been himself who was the subject of the teasing.

Still - it made the journey to Belinant's estate a rather long one that, by the end of it, Merlin had discovered Willingham indeed had a funny sense of humor; Willingham and Leon had a very dry wit that complimented each other's and Merlin was delighted by the discovery of how well the two got on. But he also failed to discover what Willlingham's first name was. Normally he was really good at remembering names! He just had a lot going on at the moment and so he couldn't exactly be faulted for forgetting it when it had only been mentioned the once. Plus - and Merlin was determined to get to the bottom of why this was so - it was just bizarre that Willingham didn't go by his first name like the other knights did. And like most everyone did actually. Merlin was trying to parse out a polite way of asking him when Arthur held up one arm and they all came to a still.

Merlin craned his neck and saw that, though it was still down some ways, they had arrived at Lord Belinant's estate.

Chapter Text

Their arrival to the estate was met more with weary relief than pompous formalities - though there still were plenty enough of those if one were to ask Gwaine's opinion on the matter, though none did. Half of the people who watched them be escorted through Belinant's estate eyed them with a desperate hope, almost reverent in their arrival and what it signified, while the other half looked mournfully upon them with resigned pity as if inevitable that the knights would all meet the same fatal fate as those before them who had tried to defeat the kelpie. Gwaine had been received by worse atmospheres than this but still the gazes - those wondrous and those dreading - all fell upon all of them with a weight so tangible each of them could feel it.

When they entered the main hall, Lord Belinant rose from his seat immediately. "King Arthur!" Belinant bowed swiftly, reminding Gwaine somewhat of Leon in the mannerism of how properly he'd done it. Though Leon would have first set down the spoon held in Belinant's grasp. "Your majesty, thank you for traveling all this way."

Arthur lifted a hand. "It was no difficulty, I assure you."

Belinant gestured - spoon and all - toward the place of the end of the table, across the end from where he'd been sitting to eat his midday meal. "Please. Let us discuss the issue at hand."

Arthur sat at the inclined seat. Though the table was grand, there weren't enough seats for all of the knights should they intend to follow the example. Gwaine rather preferred to remaining standing in such a situation, though he internally dreaded should the discussion be lengthy and he be left bored. As he suspected, Merlin too made no motion to sit. Merlin was no knight and - for all his usual disregard of propriety that Gwaine admired - his insistence of being treated as his station of being Arthur's servant popped up more oft than nought. Where Arthur sat, there Merlin would be: standing behind him and either listening most attentively or not at all, not even in the slightest. And so there too stood Gwaine, at Merlin's side. Which truthfully was his favorite place to be - other than the midst of a fight.

There was an awkward moment when neither Lancelot nor Percival moved to take the final remaining seat. But eventually Lancelot acquiesced to Percival's loyal stare and took the chair for himself. Gwaine didn't fully understand the relationship between the two and supposed that he never would. Percival was a private man and Lancelot honored the right to a person keeping secrets; Merlin could attest to that, Gwaine thought in amusement. But Gwaine had never discovered the reason behind the unflinching loyalty Percival cast upon Lancelot or if there even was a reason. Though if there was a man other than Merlin that could inspire that sort of unwavering faithfulness it would be Lancelot the righteous, Lancelot the good, Lancelot the brave. And oh Gwaine knew too well how it was to be willing to follow a good man to the depths of the world without him having to even ask. If Percival felt anything like how Gwaine did about Merlin - that undying admiration and boundless loyalty - well then it was no wonder. And Gwaine could understand that and could respect it.

Even from his standing position of behind and slightly aside, Gwaine could still tell that their king's countenance was what caused Belinant to sit up straighter and pay attention from his directions to the servants to bring some provisions for the king before Arthur had so much uttered another word. "The kelpie," He said and Gwaine's eyes tracked how the attending servants scrambling in the hall to fill the knight's newly placed water goblets paused, one even shuddering. "What can you tell me?"

Belinant shook his head. It was not in denial to answer, Gwaine thought, but rather towards the unpleasantness of having to speak aloud of the kelpie. Interesting. Had it developed into some sort of taboo? "My messenger should have relayed all that I have said and I'm afraid that I know no more than that. The beast is attacking my estate. We've lost so many trying to stop it."

"Why not call for help sooner?" Arthur asked. From any other person, the words might sound a tad accusatory; from the king, it was a simple request for further information and his even tone let that be known, let accusations dies before they left his mouth.

"The fault is mine, Your Majesty," Belinant offered sorrowfully. Which wasn't at all an answer. Pride, probably. If Gwaine knew anything about these sorts, it was all down to pride. So many lives lost and for what? The arrogance of a noble lord too stubborn to call for help. There was a moment of quiet. Gwaine watched as Belinant mulled over how best to continue and Arthur patiently waited, refusing to break the lull first. Willingham and Elyan drank from their water goblets while Leon's keen gaze remained fixed upon his king, and Lancelot sat with all his natural elegance of a lord at ease in his own court. Beside Gwaine, Percival was as still as a mountain. To his other side, Merlin's fingers twitched. Belinant spoke, "Your Majesty, I have heard that there is a village in which has recently been victim to the beast. Just this morning even."

Arthur twisted the ring upon his finger for a moment. "We've been to many of the neighboring villages in search of answers and clues to whereas we might find the kelpie. We found nothing conclusive." Gwaine silently agreed: going to yet another village after the attack seemed to be a waste of time. They needed to be able to predict where the kelpie would be next - or else, discern the perimeters of where it roamed so that it was narrowed down.

The lord stroked his beard once and then gestured towards Willingham. "The servant I sent - he has informed you that the beast's hunting ground is vast?"

"Yes, my lord," Willingham answered and then glanced to Arthur ruefully as he visibly wondered if it had been impudent for him to answer a question that technically might have been addressed to the king even though he'd been somewhat indicated by Belinant to answer. Gwaine lifted his hand to hide the brief upward cant of his lips because it was amusing to witness the flustered way in which knights who were unaccustomed to Arthur's presence acted. Beside him, Merlin made no facial expression that gave away his own amusement but, despite no outward reasoning even suggesting such, Gwaine could just tell that he too had thought it a bit funny. Willingham canted his embarrassed face towards the table. It was an easy misstep that Gwaine had seen many knights do: the instinctive way they responded to the lords and ladies of their home estate that often mistakenly were placed above their responses to the king. It wasn't an issue of disloyalty towards the king rather than it was just habit to be loyal towards their own.

Of course Arthur paid no heed to this, though Gwaine was sure he had indeed noticed. Propriety held an importance in his heart, but it never superseded his desire to find the answers he needed in order to help people. "My knights shall remain here - rest before we must encounter and slay the beast." At that Gwaine frowned. He didn't need to rest. This journey wasn't any more difficult than others previously endured. And sure they'd ridden the entire morning until a little after midday to reach Belinant's estate, but they had all just rested very well last night before doing such. The kelpie was sure to be a fierce foe, but rest wouldn't decide whether or not they succeeded in slaying it - only Merlin would. "I'll ride out to this village you've mentioned and investigate."

"My men are yours," Belinant offered immediately. "Please, Your Majesty - I will provide an entourage for you to take along with you in lieu of your men."

"That's very considerate." Inclining his head, Arthur accepted. He wouldn't have had to accept the offer if he'd just brought his own knights with him as he should, but Gwaine silenced his displeasure. Technically speaking, Belinant's men were Arthur's men, Belinant's knights were Arthur's knights. But that didn't compare to actual Arthur's knights, the ones he had chosen and who had stood by him in a time when there were none else doing so lest they face Morgana's wrath.

"You will be guided to your chambers," Belinant said, looking away from the king to glance at the seated knights.

"Our thanks to your for you hospitality, Lord Belinant," Leon said politely - the first of the knights besides Willingham to talk - and then looked towards Arthur, "And to you, Your Majesty, for your consideration."

Looking pleased, Belinant nodded. Gwaine admired Leon's ability to speak to nobles in such a way that they always felt flattered; he certainly could not manage to do that. Belinant lifted a hand and a servant stepped forward. "This way, Sir Knights." The seated knights rose from the table. As they followed the servant's guiding path, Percival too made his way behind them. Gwaine glanced to where Merlin stood - unyielding and not moving at all - and Gwaine's lips quirked. And, at last, he too had to step forward and follow them out of the hall. He'd leave Arthur to Merlin's capable hands. As always.

When he cast one final look over his shoulder while exiting, Merlin's tall figure as he stood behind Arthur seemed as ever in place as usual. As Percival may follow Lancelot, and as Gwaine may follow Merlin, Merlin followed Arthur beyond even that. Faithful, brave, and ever so Merlin that the small smile on Gwaine's lips settled into ease even as he left behind whom which his heart had sworn to follow.

This second village was much like the first had been. The citizens looked to the knights with cautiousness and wild hope born from their combined feelings of having lost lives to the kelpie and knowing how grave the situation to be while also believing everything will be alright now that King Arthur himself was here. Their weariness faltering as relief swept through them - Merlin never grew tired of witnessing how Arthur truly affected his people so. King Arthur was more than just protection; he was hope. And his presence alone blessed the people into believing, despite how hardened their hearts may have been by grief before his arrival. Arthur was their hope revived, and the life brought back into these peoples' eyes. 

And, just like the prior village, this one too had many villagers eager to help in any way they could - swarmed them with overlapping voices until Arthur calmed them into speaking one at a time - and with absolutely none of them possessing any useful information. Merlin left the talking to the others and focused his attention on scanning the crowds for clues and for anyone who might really truly know something of deeper worth. Lancelot had met someone who had known that one shouldn't touch the kelpie - but here no villager seemed more knowledgeable than the rest, nor more desperate to share this knowledge with their potential saviors. He didn't think they'd learn anything new from this village regarding the kelpie - but it was always good to try.

Merlin had long perfected the art of only sort of listening to Arthur in favor of trying to focus his attention on magical occurrences - or rather magical issues - that were occurring without alerting Arthur to their existence. Important words drew Merlin's attention back to his king but other than that his attention was elsewhere all with Arthur none the wiser, though Merlin did suspect sometimes that he missed a few things and thus lowered Arthur's opinion on Merlin's intellect. Which wasn't ideal but had always been preferable to Arthur discovering whatever magical issue that was happening - often right in front of his nose, which was rather stressful for the manservant to balance actually. In any case, this method of only slightly listening was very useful when trying to parse through all the voices and accounts being spoken in order to try and focus on what, if anything, might be important.

"Don't you think, Merlin?" Arthur asked but Merlin had stopped paying any attention to him at all as his focus was drawn elsewhere. Because chills ran down Merlin's spine and he paused, thoughtful, as the sensation almost seemed familiar to him.

His gaze caught on someone who was so far on the outskirts of the crowd that he immediately stood out for that reason alone. The man leaning against a wooden house who was already staring right back at him. Someone who, perhaps, had been staring this whole time, a supposition that settled into a matter of fact deep within his gut as soon as he had thought it.

The man didn't break his gaze once it became clear that Merlin had noticed him staring. Just stood there. Silent and still - and stared. His expression was oddly serene in comparison to the act he was doing - refusing to look away when a stranger had noticed his gaze - as well as serene in comparison to, well, the rest of him. For he was a large man with a warrior's build that would make even the knights of Camelot look small. He was large and hardy like a mountain - and like such, did not look like him could be moved for anything, that he would stand there forever and past even that if he so wished to. His dark hair was long, and it trailed down the front of his tunic and intermixed with his lengthy beard and continued over his broad shoulders, past his sturdy waist, and all the way to down to where his hands were. Roughened hands that clutched around the handle of an ax. They were hands that had much use in their life, hands that had worked hard enough that the fact could be visible from underneath the dark thatch of hair that grew atop them and his thick arms as well as that it could be visible from paces away, such as Merlin was. Merlin knew not why the man stared but knew that he could not look away, that he had to meet his gaze to the man's gaze almost as if compelled to do such.

Then, suddenly, he was able to recall why the feeling of sudden chills was so familiar. The hair standing up on his arm, the feeling that something bad was happening or about to happen - this would mark the third time he'd felt it within as many days. That eerie sense of something being wrong had started unmistakably at the croft house in the hills that he and Leon had found; it had continued, although he had almost mistaken it underneath his mortification, at the river when he had encountered that woman bathing in the river. And, now, staring at the man before him who stared back just the same - he knew the feeling and knew it well enough by now to pinpoint it as the same one.

Merlin's gaze narrowed. The coincidence was far too great.

Though his peripheral vision, he saw as Arthur turned, perplexed at his lack of answer, and immediately his eyes tracked to where Merlin was looking. "What the hell?" He muttered too lowly for the clamoring villagers to hear, his brow lowering as he took in the strange way the two were locked intensely in gaze.

"I'm going to go talk to him," Merlin informed him and took a step toward the man, who didn't react in any visible way. Though it might have been a trick of the light, Merlin thought his knuckles briefly clenched tighter around the handle of the ax.

Arthur, however, did react. "Um, no," He said and gripped Merlin's bicep tightly with his hand to halt him, "No, you're not."

Merlin blinked. And it was like a trance had been broken between him and the strange man still staring across the way; now that he could, Merlin turned to look at Arthur's incredulous and annoyed expression and ignored how curious it was that it seemed almost uncanny to not be staring at the man. "What do you mean? Of course I am."

The laugh that came out of Arthur's mouth was anything but merry. "No," He said and his smile was sarcastic and sharp. "You're not." He held up a hand to the crowd who had parsed their information to him but was still endeavoring to speak more to him; obediently they halted in their attempts as Arthur focused on his manservant.

At that Merlin frowned. "Arthur - "

But the king interrupted him in a low voice. "Why the hell are you going to talk to him out of everyone here? He's staring at you - without blinking, might I just add! - like he wants to kill you, Merlin. So here's what you're going to do: you're going to pick someone else to talk to. Hmm?"

Sometimes Arthur could be so stupid. "But, don't you see? That's exactly why I have to talk to him."

Arthur's grip tightened upon his arm either unconsciously or fully prepared to bodily haul him to safety, and he then tried to mask his worry with meanness. "So that he can murder you? Incredible, Merlin, and just when I thought you couldn't get any stupider - you go and say something like that. Truly, your talent for it is beyond even what I imagined. Well, go on. Don't let me stop you from being killed." Even though his words were permission, technically, even Merlin could tell that if he so much took as one step towards the man, Arthur would not stand for it. Not to mention, his hand was still tightly gripping Merlin's bicep so it wasn't like Merlin even could. And not to mention, the crowd of villagers were still right there waiting and watching this.

He was always so dramatic about everything. Merlin rolled his eyes. "Arthur, this is what I do. All the time really."

"Oh?" Arthur feigned surprise. "You often approach lumberjacks who seem hellbent on killing you? Because, by all means then, go ahead."

Awkwardly, Merlin let out a small cough; there was no need for Arthur's tone to be this sarcastic, honestly. "Er. That's not exactly what I meant..."

"Was it not? Huh!" Arthur looked at him with a feigned stupefied expression that looked remarkably like his normal one when he didn't understand what the hell Merlin was saying. "Imagine my surprise!"

"But - "

"I've just decided: we're done here," Arthur announced loudly, and actually acted as if it was a coincidental occurrence. "Time to head back." The villagers accepted this decree gracefully.

"Arthur - "

"You there," He commanded to one of the men Belinant had provided to assist them. "Stay behind and ensure that all the villagers are listened to. Every one of them. Anyone who has something to relay should be heeded, is that clear? Report anything they say upon your return." Realizing that they would no longer be speaking with the king directly, a vast portion of the crowd began to disperse.

And while the king had listened to countless of villagers and had gained no pertinent information, this still felt a bit like Merlin's fault. "Arthur - "

However Arthur just flat out continued to ignore him and, instead, cheerfully man-handled him towards where they had tethered their horses, shouting at the rest of the men to join them. Merlin huffed an annoyed sigh. Arthur released his arm only to stand firmly as a preventive measure, physically blocking Merlin between the village and his horse, to ensure that Merlin obeyed. When Merlin had mounted his saddle with an annoyed huff, it was only then that Arthur left his side. He thought about quickly climbing back down again while the king was distracted but ultimately decided not to even though it'd serve Arthur right. Honestly. Merlin could take care of himself! He didn't need to be protected from conversation.

Perched upon the mare, Merlin turned to take one last look at the large ominous stranger.

But the man was gone.

Another table had been found and added to the main hall, set besides the original main table from earlier. Merlin took a seat at this secondary table, which placed his back to the entrance and exit but allowed him to keep Arthur in his sight of vision as this time Arthur sat directly on Belinant's right side at the main table, speaking to him in a volume that was easy to overhear but Merlin only cast half his attention towards as most of it seemed to be more oriented towards polite small talk rather than the kelpie situation.

"Any luck?" Elyan asked, and Merlin paused with a rather ambitiously large bite of pheasant only half stuffed in his mouth as he realized his friend was talking to him. "At the village, I mean." While he was sure Elyan was genuinely interested, the timing of the inquiry was too great for it not to have been on purpose; Merlin didn't need to lean turn towards the head of the table to see the grin on Elyan's lips to know that it was amusing the knight to purposely have caught Merlin off guard in this undignified overflowing mouthful of food with a question that required Merlin to actually managed to overcome such a large amount and speak - but still he turned to make direct eye contact to ensure his friend knew that he had caught on to his teasing intentions.

"Nothing of importance," One of the Belinant's man - the one that sat with them at this table, at Merlin's left side - answered before he could manage to finish chewing, seemingly directing this comment more towards Willingham than Elyan due to where his gaze was cast but still Elyan nodded. Elyan glanced at Merlin - still chewing with cheeks quite stuffed, probably looking like a squirrel - and the white of his teeth reemerged at the sight. "Have you gone to visit your sister, Killian?"

With a burst of excitement, Merlin realized that Killian was Willingham's first name which he'd been trying to remember and, at last, finally knew what it was.

Leon's face softened. "You have a sister? How old is she?" Fondly Merlin smiled at his friend. Leon himself had a much younger sister and it was not a secret that she was very dear to the knight. It often made Merlin wonder what it must be like not to be an only child, that way Leon's face lit up and his eyes and voice grew gentle during discussion of sisters. Morgana - in the before - had always gotten on so well with Leon that Arthur even had been a bit jealous. People had said it was because they were sweet on each other; Merlin has thought it was because Leon respected and understood women to such a degree that only Lancelot really had ever compared. Merlin had always wondered if it had stemmed from Leon doting upon his sister or if it had been the other way around, but in any case it had endeared him to Morgana, Gwen, and his sister at the very least - and plenty more, Merlin was sure.

Percival awaited Willingham's response with a similar air, though his gentle eyes were tinged with grief. If he'd had sisters - and Merlin thought this to be the case - then he didn't talk about them. It was too painful for him still. Merlin had never wanted to pry and Percival had never offered any information beyond that his family was dead.

Elyan, though he loved his sister - who was very much alive - didn't soften the way that Leon and Percival did. Merlin supposed it was due to the years they'd spent separated; that perhaps Elyan's face had become used to keeping his lonely thoughts of his faraway sister private, even now when he didn't have to do so anymore.

Between these three, Merlin again couldn't help but to wonder what his own life would have been if his father hadn't been chased to flee from Ealdor by Uther's wrath. Or even if he had been with his mother just a few more years - long enough, surely, to grant Merlin a sister. Merlin wondered what it'd be like. Wondered what his face would look like when people discussed sisters and siblings. Wondered if she too would have magic - but of course she would, wouldn't she? Then again, Arthur and Morgana were siblings and Arthur didn't have magic... But still, would a sister have changed him greatly or maybe even not at all? He would never know but at times like this truly wanted to.

Willingham - Killian - did not look gentle or soft like Leon. Instead for one moment he froze and then his shoulders slouched from the tense hold they'd taken up at the question. "I do. Joan is four years my elder. Our brother Heith is almost old enough to be sent to Camelot and become a page." He smiled for a moment at that but then his smile fell. "However... No, I haven't seen Joan in over a year abouts." That caused Leon to frown, but he was too polite to immediately ask why this was. Though curious, he was parsing his potential words carefully.

Before he could gather the right words into a question, the man from before spoke again with explanation. "His sister was to be married to the neighboring duke but then after their engagement was announced, the duke died in battle some three years ago. In her grief, the duchess-to-be joined to be trained in a nunnery in which forbids the presence of men. From time to time, Joan leaves to pay the estate a visit - but it is oft unannounced. And therefore by the time I'd sent the letter out to inform Killian of Joan's arrival, she had gone back to the nunnery and he had missed her last visit entirely."

A quiet fell between the six of them at the table. The background noise of the surrounding hall washed over them, half finished sentences and a fragment of Gwaine's laughter.

"Why don't you send a letter while you're here?" Merlin suggested. "Maybe she'll come to visit you and Heith?" Percival nodded.

"That way," Elyan agreed, "You could send a female courier and not break the rules of the nunnery because you wouldn't be visiting her - she'd come to visit you."

Willingham - Killian, Merlin corrected himself once more - shook his head. "No courier would available right now. Not when the kelpie stalks these lands and terrorizes its people. And I dare not ask her to travel in such perilous conditions."

At that, the table again grew silent.

"Well," Merlin said slowly. His gaze lifted from the wooden table to Killian. "Then all we need to do is find the kelpie and stop it."

The knights' countenances all showed that they concurred but Belinant's man sitting next to him scoffed. "You make it sound a simple task."

Merlin tilted his head and looked to him. "It'll be fine. King Arthur will slay the kelpie."

The man met Merlin's solemn gaze for a long moment and then inclined his head. "Aye." His voice was quiet. "Fair point."

Turning to grin at Killian, Merlin hoped that it would be that simple.

Gwaine had left the room Belinant had provided for the simple reason of needing to find a chamber pot to use. He hadn't expected, afterwards on his way back to the room, to hear the drifting sound of hushed voices carrying on the wind. He walked cautiously through a hall to step out to the open air of one of the courtyard passageways. He was careful to keep light on his feet, dulling the sounds of his steps, as he listened to those hushed voices until he could discern individual words.

The words, when discernible, were distantly recognizable to their identities. He did not need to get any closer to the dark silhouette of two figures huddled together across the far end of the courtyard; he knew already who they were, and his nodded once to himself, having supposed that he should have suspected this to be the case.

"I know it means something," He overheard Merlin say to someone that truthfully could have only been one of three people. Glancing down the otherwise empty courtyard, Gwaine drew closer two figures huddled behind a stone pillar. Merlin leaned forward and hushed his voice; in the bare space of the courtyard in rang easily to Gwaine's ears - as well as to Lancelot's, the other person, of course, that Merlin was talking to. Though he might've guessed it regardless, for he should have known that it'd be these two sequestered away to discuss magical issues even though Merlin didn't need to turn solely to Lancelot for confidence in these matters anymore. He had Gwaine now - and Leon and Arthur - but in all honestly, it came as no surprise that it was Lancelot that Merlin had chosen. This habit of theirs - of them versus the world - well, only time would prove to them that it was no longer necessary. Time and being there, that is. "I need to go and find that man from earlier."

Let it be known that Gwaine was capable of restraint: in light of how serious Merlin sounded, Gwaine resisted making a joke about how he, as Merlin's intended, should have been all the man Merlin ever needed.

Unburdened by the desire to make that joke, Lancelot frowned. "How do you suppose we'll find him?"

That was something that Gwaine always had liked about Lancelot: it was never in him to leave his friends without aid. He said 'we' not to strike a point but because it had honestly not occurred to Lancelot that he wouldn't be there to help Merlin. Before Gwaine had known about the magic, he had supposed that this was why Lancelot and Merlin had gotten on so well - that they shared that same degree of honorable duty to the ones they loved, that they didn't even question whether they should help or not because, to them, to help was the only option. Both had big hearts and noble intentions that were backed up by their bravery and capability. And Gwaine had assumed that, in kinship to that deep sense of loyalty they both had, that was why the two flocked together.

Now that Gwaine knew about the magic, it didn't seem so much as Lancelot being loyal - though he very much was loyal - so much as it was him being honorable; to him Merlin was, above all, the best way to ensure that what they were doing was good, that what they were doing was noble. Because Merlin perhaps may not be right all of the time, but he was indeed an accurate compass to set a course to when it came to such things as morality. If Lancelot were ever without direction or surety, it could then be Merlin's ever true heart that guided him. And Gwaine, very deeply, could understand that feeling. He too followed the draw of Merlin; as even something as free and as wild as the ocean, the tide followed the moon and let it guide it so did Gwaine yield his wildness to Merlin's goodness.

"Tonight we go to the village," Merlin said and Lancelot nodded. "And from there, I have a feeling that it'll be that the man will find us more than us finding him."

Between Merlin's scouting trip with Leon and now, Gwaine was beginning to suspect that most of Merlin's magical adventures truly were just sneaking away in the middle of night to put himself in danger secretly unbeknownst to everyone. Gwaine could admire that but he was very gladdened that Merlin too had used 'we' because likewise Gwaine very much wanted to go with him and help. Especially if the man was whom Gwaine thought it was: that lumberjack who had apparently stared with such ill intent towards Merlin earlier in the village that even Arthur decided it was best to retreat. Arthur did. Of course it should go without saying then that Gwaine would go along.

The torch light of a distant patrol cast itself on the faraway corner on the outer hall that the two's backs were turned towards. When Gwaine stepped forwards, they swiveled around in alarm. Having not noticed him, anyone could have been standing there listening to their conversation' Gwaine was glad that it wasn't anyone else, that it was him. Anyone else wouldn't do - which was why the torch light in the distance needed to be avoided. "Time to go," He advised briskly.

"Gwaine," Lancelot said, surprised.

Merlin frowned like he was belatedly figuring something out only now. "How long have you been listening?"

"Oh," Gwaine tilted his head amiably, "Long enough. Now, come on." Lancelot quickly caught sight of the approaching torchlight that only too soon would arrive at the courtyard and alert one of Belinant's household that the three of them were afoot and scheming. It'd look entirely suspicious, no matter which way they could try to swing it. Exchanging a look with Lancelot, Merlin nodded. They two of them heeded the advice and Gwaine followed.

"Are you... coming with us?" Merlin realized incredulously - but had the forethought this time to drastically hush his voice.

Was that even a question? Honestly, it was like his friend had forgotten who he was talking to! "Of course. Why not?"

At that, Merlin had no answer. His mouth moved vaguely in silent attempts before he realized that, truly, there wasn't any reason that Gwaine shouldn't come with them. For once, Gwaine thought, the ocean guided the moon into motion first.

"Alright," Lancelot said. "Let's go."

It was decided among the three of them that to approach the village directly would be a bad plan. 

"Everyone's asleep," Merlin had pointed out. "And the kelpie doesn't hang about in the village." 

"I thought you were looking for the man from earlier?" Gwaine asked. 

"I am. It's just - he left so suddenly earlier. It was like he had vanished into thin air. I don't think he'll be in the village after having left like that."

At his reasoning, Gwaine nodded slowly. 

"We should tether the horse so as not to he heard coming and then circle the village," Lancelot suggested.

"Good idea." Merlin nodded and then swung off his horse. His friends followed in suit. "Also we should split up. After all, we only have during nightfall. If we're not back by morning, Arthur won't have anyone to dress him. And then he'll really be mad." 

His friends smiled at the joke. "Ah, alright," Gwaine agreed easily, "Can't be having Princess upset, now can we?"

Merlin grinned. "You go that way," Merlin directed Gwaine with a point of a finger and then pointed Lancelot in the opposite direction, "And you go that way." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll head that way."

Gwaine clapped his arm and then took off in the directed Merlin had advised. Lancelot paused for a moment. "Now don't get into trouble."

Merlin pointed a finger towards himself incredulously as if he'd never so much as gotten into trouble once in his entire life. Lancelot rolled his eyes fondly and then he too set off. 

And so Merlin too walked the forest terrain of the land that wasn't too far off from where the village was. Not too far but far enough, Merlin hoped, that someone with secrets to hide would feel comfortable taking refuge in its privacy. Someone like the man from earlier. A lumberjack surely couldn't wander too far away from the forest, now could he? Or else why carry that axe, right? 

Merlin felt rather confident in this logic. Even as he walked and walked with no signs of anything being out there but himself, he couldn't be too discouraged. Even as the temperature dropped, his stride was sure and his expectations high as alone he walked through the nighttime forest.

There was nothing but trees until there was something.

A large shape, too dark to discern clearly, moved between the trees. But Merlin thought he had seen the distinctively long hair and beard - and even more telling than his massive build and hair, was the axe that glinted sharply even in the scattering moonlight that fell between the foliage above. The man from the village! It was him, it had to be! Quickly Merlin ran after the man, slapping away branches and jumping over a fallen log, but the dark large shape eluded him seemingly without trying. 

Turning to cut between the trees in the direction that the man appeared to be heading towards, Merlin hoped to cut him off as he ran. Ha! He grinned as he caught sight of the man - suddenly illuminated more thoroughly for a single moment - as the man indeed headed towards where Merlin was attempting to corral him by catching up. The man turned sharply towards a small clearing in the forest but Merlin would arrive there first. 

Panting, he came to an abrupt halt as his feet hit the flat dirt of the clearing. He spun in a circle at the empty clearing. The man should have arrived by now, should have been here. Yet he wasn't. Even so, Merlin should still be able to see him - was more than close enough - but yet the man wasn't visible where he ought to have been or even anywhere at all. The man had disappeared but it definitely had been him. And he must be nearby because that strange atmospheric drop, those shivers that fell down his spine like a very bad feeling - it all hit him more strongly now than it had earlier in the village during their intense stare off. Suddenly he was regretting having split up from the knights.

He couldn't be sure yet of which but it was either a very very good or a very very bad stroke of luck to find the man he had set out to look for; either way, it caused Merlin's breath to catch in his throat as the bad feeling grew stronger, grew worse.

Alarmingly close, the sound of snapping twigs came from the shrouded forest behind him.

He spun around, hand poised high in the air to magically defend himself - and abruptly came into contact with the velvet softness of a horse's muzzle. He instinctively recoiled his hand - or tried to. But it held firm and did not withdraw no matter how hard he yanked at it, even using his free hand to tug at his wrist to boost the momentum. Yet his hand stayed connected to the horse almost as if his palm was spelled to adhere to the horse's skin.

Realization hit him. "Ohh," Merlin breathed out in dread, "Oh, that's not good."

The horse took a step to the side and Merlin jerked with it, forced into following the horse due to his outstretched arm and entrapped palm. The horse began to further stride away, taking Merlin with it as it did so, and panic began to set in as Merlin realized the situation he was quite literally stuck in. Hastily Merlin tried to dig his heels into the dirt below him but it was no use. The horse - the kelpie, there was no doubt of it - walked and due to the strength of the kelpie Merlin forcibly was made to follow in suit.

"Astidge ðu wyrm! Ga on wuda! Swilté deor! Swilté deor!"

Scrambling to separate himself from the kelpie, Merlin cast spell after spell, each one more desperate than the last. But his hand remained bound to the kelpie even as he felt his palm blister and burn underneath the ineffective fire spells he had cast. The kelpie appeared completely unaffected which was not at all fair.

"Merlin!" The worried bellow was far off but it filled him with relief to hear it.

"Gwaine!" Merlin shouted as his heels kicked up dirt and twigs. A pithy attempt to halt the horse's stride. "Gwaine!"

"Hold on, Merlin!" His friend called back and under his breath Merlin laughed somewhat hysterically.

"Yeah," He said at a volume Gwaine wouldn't be able to hear, "That's kind of the problem at the moment  - ohhh oh no no no."

The sight of water was terrifying. The kelpie had pulled him out of the forest and was leading him to a nearby river. The kelpie was leading him to a river. To kill him. Oh that was very much not good. "Gwaine!" He shouted desperately and uselessly continued yanking  at his hand and digging his heels into the dirt in an attempt to slow their momentum. He tried dropping entirely - trying to use the entire dead weight of his body to at least slow the kelpie down for a moment - but the kelpie carried on, wrenching Merlin's shoulder in such a terrible way that he scrambled to get his feet back underneath him again in attempts to lessen the pain.

"Merlin!" Lancelot called out, horrified, as he broke through the brush on the other side of the river and caught sight of what was occurring.

"Oh thank God," Merlin closed his eyes in relief for one moment. "Lancelot! I'm stuck!"

Gwaine's voice sounded closer than before as he called out, "Merlin!" Though closer, it was hard to tell how far off he was or wasn't. Heart in his throat, Merlin pinned his hopes on Lancelot alone as the kelpie walked them through the - thankfully somewhat wide - shoreline and towards the river. "Merlin, I'm on my way!"

Lancelot was already running toward the water and began to wade through the shallow waters into the deeper ones in an attempt to reach his destination - before the kelpie and Merlin did. "Stuck?"

"It's my hand!" Merlin explained and tried not to feel terrified as the kelpie sped up to reach the water more quickly, perhaps in response to Lancelot's arrival or perhaps Gwaine's shouting. Did kelpies understand human languages while in horse form? "It won't come off!"

"Have you tried - ?" He didn't manage to finish the question as his head dipped underneath the crest of the water for a moment.

The kelpie yanked him into the river. The splash of his stumbling boots felt very akin to the sound of an executioner sharpening his blade. "Yes I've tried magic!" Merlin shouted when Lancelot resurfaced. The kelpie strode forward and Merlin's boot quickly became drenched. The water rising around his shins was terrifying in a way that shin deep water never before had been. Lancelot visibly sped up his swimming but the river was wide and Merlin was uncertain how quickly he'd be able to reach this side of it.

The sound of hurried footsteps had never been so beautiful.

Gwaine broke through the line of trees to the sandy grit between forest dirt and the river bank. He took in the scene that was occurring with quick eyes. Without hesitation Gwaine ran at them. He swung his sword upon the kelpie's flank. The horse paused but did not appear affected even having after it had received such a hefty blow. Mouth and eyes creasing unhappily, Gwaine shook his hair out of his eyes and grimaced, swinging his sword in his hand to readjust. Then he moved to attack as well. "Merlin, duck!"

Merlin immediately dropped, ignoring the very painful pressure it wrenched upon his previously injured shoulder and the hnd still attached to the kelpie's skin, and Gwaine launched himself forward at the kelpie with a steadfast ferocity. His blow landed on the kelpie's muzzle right above Merlin's hand, and Gwaine grit his teeth and pushed his weight into it even as the kelpie withdrew with a terrible otherworldly screech and a red line of blood formed that trickled down on Merlin's fingers below.

And then Gwaine did this again and again, coming at the kelpie and circling it in such a manner that eventually Gwaine's back was to where Lancelot was and the kelpie was being corralled away from the water. He repeatedly leaped forward and targeted the same place, hacking at the wound and forcing the kelpie to back further from the river as it withdrew to avoid the blows. Gwaine continued doing so, even as disgustedly the wound became more grotesque with every hacking chop. The kelpie's blood traveled quickly down Merlin's arm and the mangled flesh of the horse began to come apart with a horrible sound. Gwaine's swordsman skills had always been graceful and elegant; to see him become this wild butcher of a man was almost more jarring than the entire situation of being magically adhered to a horse's skin.

Even when the kelpie reared suddenly onto its hind legs - pulling Merlin terrifying under its legs for a moment while he was held aloft in the air - Gwaine's attacks were steady and admirably precise. Upon landing down, the kelpie took a misstep as Lancelot reached this side of the shore and swung his blade at one of its hind legs. Immediately Merlin and the kelpie crashed into the river with a mighty splash. Merlin's head plunged underwater for a moment and smacked against the riverbed before he was able to support his weight on his free arm and scramble to the surface and his knees.

In the short time he had done this, Gwaine and Lancelot had already moved to continue attacking. Lancelot ensured the kelpie could not rise again by targeting its legs again and again even as the kelpie caught enough balance to kick out as it tried to stand, tugging Merlin by the arm harshly every time it tried to rise. The kelpie rose only the once to its hind legs - whipping up Merlin in the worst of ways - before Lancelot managed to force it down by laying siege upon its legs with determination.

As the horse landed, Merlin stumbled to regain his footing in the rocky river bed. The steel of Gwaine's blade kissed and nicked into Merlin's entrapped palm as Gwaine now more ruthlessly slashed the kelpie's muzzle - until he cut through flesh, cut through ligaments, and cut through bone; roughly Merlin was lifted and dragged by the kelpie as it rose until Lancelot would again send it down, while it screeched all the while Gwaine and Lancelot viciously perused and persisted in attacking it while Merlin tried to keep his balance as best that he could.

Until finally Gwaine managed to hack all the way through the jaw - severing the front of kelpie's snout completely and, by doing so, freeing Merlin.

Immediately Merlin fell to his elbows and knees in the river, the water rushing over his head. And then hurriedly he crawled forward until his head breached the surface; he lacked the energy to stand but in the shallower waters this position was no longer a danger.

Now that Merlin was freed, the kelpie managed to gather enough desperation and strength that it bucked and drew itself up to kick again - but Lancelot and Gwaine had less qualms about attacking, as Merlin was out of harm's way, and moved with such ferocity that it stood no chance between the two of them, as injured as it was and as fierce as the knights were.

Panting and kneeling in the river, Merlin tried to catch his breath. His examined his hand, still attached to the largest piece of severed flesh of the kelpie and tried to use his magic once more. The spell blasted away the kelpie's flesh stuck on to him into disgusting pieces and - at last - Merlin was finally fully separated from it.

He raised his palm and yelled, "Swilté deor!"

The kelpie fell over into the water with finality. The three of them watched, exhausted and all with heaving shoulders, and waited to ensure that it truly wouldn't rise again.

The only sound was that of the river and their breathing.

Until finally Gwaine let out a humorless chuckle. "Let's never do that again," Gwaine said, a bit breathless.

Similarly winded, Lancelot huffed out a half-fledged laugh.

"Although, Merlin," Gwaine said and shook his hair out with a tired grin and then extended a hand down to where Merlin was still kneeling in the river. "Why didn't you just use the other one?"

"Mm?" Merlin accepted the hand and got his feet beneath him once more. "The other what?"

Lancelot and Gwaine both quickly steadied Merlin as he swayed slightly, Lancelot by ways of gripping his arm and Gwaine by clasping his other hand onto Merlin's still connected to his. "Hand," Gwaine clarified. Befuddled, Merlin's brow scrunched. Hesitantly he tried retrieving his hand from Gwaine's firm grip on it but then stopped when his friend shook his head. "Your other hand - why didn't you use it?"

He didn't understand. "What's that?"

"Well if your right hand was stuck," Gwaine explained, his breath nearly caught now and shoulders rising more evenly, "Then this one was still free, no?" He wiggled the hand he held in his grasp. Merlin stared at it and then blinked. "So why didn't you use this one?"

Lancelot frowned at the two of them as he too pondered this question.

"I..." Merlin opened and closed his mouth twice before he could form an actual response in the face of this simple solution. "I panicked."

Gwaine nodded. "Fair, that's fair." He squinted and released Merlin's left hand. "But can you use it?"

"What?"

Gwaine wiped his sword against the side of his wet trouser and then sheathed it. "For magic. Is it limited to your right hand?"

Merlin again had to pause before answering. He felt very very foolish and very very tired all of a sudden as he stood there in his wet clothes and shivered. "Well, not... exactly. I mean, no. I could. Use my left hand for magic."

Consolingly Lancelot patted his shoulder. "Next time, hm?" 

"Oh," Gwaine laughed, throwing back his head and slightly damp hair. "There best not be." At that, Merlin too laughed and shook his head. "Now I don't suppose you know a spell for drying clothes, hmm, Merlin?"

"Trust me, Gwaine," Merlin replied wryly, "That's going to be the next spell I learn." Lancelot laughed brightly even though of the three of them, he was the most drenched one there.

Though the warming effect would be minute, Gwaine unfastened his partially dry cloak and swung it atop Merlin's shoulders, the wet hem of it slapping noisily against his calves all the way down to his boots. Merlin clenched the cloak tightly with both hands, so much so that his own wet clothes began to dampen it, as they walked into the forest and back towards their horses. The aftermath of earlier was already having an effect on him, as the shivers that wracked his shoulders were mostly caused by the cold - but partially caused to the sensations of being so helpless in the kelpie's grasp with not even his magic helping him out.

Lancelot huddled closer to him as the walked - for warmth, Merlin thought until Lancelot gently eased a wet arm around Merlin's shoulders and drew him closer to his side. He didn't stop walking, nor did he say a word, but Merlin knew the sort of hug was Lancelot's was of offering silent comfort to the distress Merlin must have been showing - or, if he hadn't been, that Lancelot had guessed at. Merlin tucked himself closer into the shelter of his friend, even as Lancelot's wet clothes hastened the dry cloak becoming damper. Still the warmth provided from the physical affirmation that he was alright and not alone - well he wouldn't trade it for even ten dry cloaks.

"I can't wait to get back to Camelot," Gwaine broke the silence with a wistful whimsical air. He walked in front of the two of them and Merlin could see the casual way he'd slung his arms across his chest to ward off the night's chill.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed. A shudder ran through him, and Lancelot's palm rubbed his shoulder as if it could transfer the warmth that he also did not possess through layers of clothing. Still, somehow, it did help a little. Actually, it seemed to help a lot. Or maybe that was just what Merlin told himself to have a reason to draw closer to the comfort of his friend's presence, though Lancelot would never have even demanded he have a reason at all. Lancelot's arm across him was just as sodden as Merlin himself was. Still, Merlin clutched onto his presence as if it were a warm furnace. 

His hands trembled, and he pretended that it was only the cold that shook them. 

Lancelot's fingers tightened upon him and never let him stray too far from his side their entire walk back to the horses, which was something that Merlin was more than fine with.