Chapter Text
The day Arthur repealed the magic ban was supposed to be the happiest of Merlin's life. He'd been ready to tell Arthur the truth, happy, excited even, to finally be truly known.
As he'd stood there, with the words ready to fall off his tongue, Arthur cut him off.
“Much will change, in ways we cannot yet know. I'm grateful you're here, Merlin, you're the one constant in my life. You’re a true friend.”
Merlin couldn’t bring himself to tell Arthur he was wrong: Merlin wasn’t the constant Arthur believed him to be, or at least, not in the same way. He would always be there, serving Arthur and Camelot in whatever way was needed of him. He couldn’t pull the rug out from under Arthur’s feet, not after everything he’d done for Merlin. No, he owed it to Arthur to remain the constant upon which he depended, no matter the personal cost. Swallowing the bitter disappointment, Merlin had smiled and told Arthur he was happy to help.
His life was supposed to be easier now, there was supposed to be acceptance and an end to the need for sneaking around. Somehow Merlin's life had only become more complicated - Mordred told Arthur of the prophecy between himself and Emrys.
Arthur's insistence that he meet this sorcerer was why Merlin now found himself sneaking away once more, exiting Camelot unnoticed to make his way to a nearby druid camp. He would meet Arthur and his knights under the effect of a transformation spell. Merlin looked perhaps a decade older, not wanting to subject himself to the aches and pains of transforming into Dragoon, although his back twinged and his knees objected already, with his features adjusted so none would recognise him. He’d changed his eyes to brown, squared his jaw, and lightened his hair. He was the same height, already too used to tripping over his own limbs to risk changing the length of his legs, a little broader, and his voice deeper. Even Gaius hadn’t made comments about ‘something about the eyes’ this time, he could only hope the others would be fooled too, and that Mordred wouldn’t reveal his identity twice over.
Gaius had made excuses on Merlin’s behalf, claiming he was simply too ill to travel. Arthur, not wanting to offend the druids by delaying the arranged trip, reluctantly decided to go ahead without Merlin.
The druids warmly welcomed Merlin, offering him simple green robes to change into, before he joined them at the fire. He tried to remind himself there was nothing to be nervous of, it was just Arthur, but he’d spent years dreading the way Arthur would look at him once he learned of his magic. And it wasn’t only Arthur, but all his closest knights.
Would they look at him as they did while under the effects of the lamia’s enchantment? With contempt and anger, feeling as though he was beneath them, his word no longer counting for anything. He knew there would be repercussions for the years spent lying, and he couldn’t afford to risk the Camelot that was being built, a place where all were welcome. He had survived this long, he could take it a while longer yet.
The chatter surrounding him trailed off as hoofbeats approached.
~
As afternoon passed into evening, Merlin’s nerves calmed as Arthur and his company were nothing but respectful. There was a genuine curiosity in their questions of magic and prophecies, uncertain more than fearful. Merlin left the majority of the questions to be answered by the druids who were better versed in their history, chiming in when conversation turned to questions of Emrys. Mordred answered his share of questions as well, surprising Arthur with the depth of his knowledge.
Any anger Merlin expected at having hidden from Arthur was unfounded, his king was surprisingly understanding of the need to remain at a distance. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Arthur would remain so calm if he knew who sat across from him, whether it would feel personal if he knew he’d spent every day for the last decade with Emrys at his side.
After Arthur turned in for the night, Merlin excused himself, walking a little way away from the camp, where he had an unobstructed view of the sky. It was a clear night, the moon shone bright and the stars twinkled. Feeling bold, Merlin lit a fire then pulled the embers from it to form a dragon that circled his head.
“So this is where you disappeared to,” a voice came from between the trees.
The deeply ingrained fear at being caught resurfaced, the dragon dispersed and the fire extinguished, as Merlin stumbled, tripping over the undergrowth, falling hard.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Gwaine’s apology came with a hand to help Merlin up off the ground. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Merlin answered quickly.
“Good.” Gwaine seemed to realise he was still holding Merlin’s hand, he let go and stepped back to a respectable distance. “I’m Gwaine.”
“I know.” Merlin cursed himself, unable to remember whether they’d been formally introduced. “I mean- I heard your name earlier. I’m Emrys.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emrys,” Gwaine offered his hand once more, a firm, warm handshake that lasted a moment too long to be a polite greeting.
“Likewise.” Merlin swallowed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the intense look from Gwaine, the moon glinting in his eyes. When was the last time Gwaine had looked at him like this? Why hadn’t he noticed how much he missed it until this moment?
“Shall we sit?”
They settle on a fallen tree, arms just barely brushing.
“Were you looking for me?” Merlin asked.
“I was hoping we’d get the chance to talk. The way you spoke to Arthur earlier, of Camelot and our future, you must really believe in the prophecy.”
“I believe in Arthur, I believe in the great king he’s becoming, and the good man I know him to be.”
“Because of the prophecy?”
“Perhaps to begin with, but he’s grown over the years, and not all prophecies come to pass.”
Merlin recalled the horrors that were unfolding at Camlann, how close that prophecy had come to passing, had he not been able to save Kara and keep Mordred on their side. How different things could have been had Gwaine not gotten him to the crystal cave in good time. Gwaine who had always been there for him whenever he’d asked, but how often had he repaid the favour? It was no wonder that Gwaine was out here looking at a man he believed he’d just met the way Merlin wished he’d look at him once more.
“Emrys?”
“Sorry. Sorry, got lost for a moment there. Yeah, uh, prophecies, they’re troublesome things.”
“I’ll take your word for it, I’ve never been important enough for destiny to take an interest in me.”
“Don’t say that, we’re all important.”
“We’re not all the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth.”
“You’re one of Arthur’s most trusted and valued knights, you have a hand in shaping the kingdom, whether that’s at destiny’s hand or not.”
“You really believe that I matter?”
“We all matter, every last one of us.”
“You’ve only just met me.”
“You’ve been nothing but kind and respectful to those you once hunted. You’ve changed for the better, grown as a person.”
“Forgive me, I scared you when I intruded upon you this evening.”
“I wasn’t scared,” Merlin lied (would the lies ever stop?), “you startled me, that’s all.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I wouldn’t want us getting off on the wrong foot.”
“How would you want us getting off?” Merlin cringed at the double-meaning he hadn’t meant when he heard what he’d said. To his relief Gwaine only laughed and moved past it.
“I like you, and I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together. Never thought I’d be having a casual conversation with a sorcerer, but we’re on the same side - you want to protect Arthur as much as I do. Would you like to share a drink with me?”
“I’d love to.”
Gwaine pulled out a wineskin, “I brought it to share with a friend, but, well, he couldn’t make it.”
Gwaine took a swig, then passed it to Merlin. The combination of sweet and tart danced across his tongue as the blackberry wine filled his mouth. Merlin had lied to him, feigned illness, concealed his identity, and here was Gwaine, who had somehow managed to get hold of Merlin’s favourite wine and had been thoughtful enough to bring it.
“I love blackberries.”
“I knew you’d have good taste.”
They passed the wineskin back and forth as they talked long into the night.
“My mother hasn’t been well,” Gwaine confided.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Merlin wondered why it was Gwaine felt more comfortable sharing this with a stranger than a friend. “Have you been to visit her?”
“I’m afraid my presence would only make things worse. My sister and I, to say we don’t get along would be an understatement. I have no doubt that my presence would be interpreted as an attempt to lay claim on whatever inheritance there might be.”
“Is it not worth it, to see your mother while you still can?”
“It’s complicated to visit Caerleon as a knight of Camelot, I may have pledged allegiance to Arthur, but I fear I would be tried as a deserter if I crossed the border of the kingdom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve made my choices, not all of them wise, I’ll live with them.”
“Do you have any other family? Any little nephews or nieces?”
“Nah, and even if I did, I doubt they’d want to see me. I’m not very good with children, not like you. You have such boundless patience in dealing with the children of the camp, I sense that’ll be a virtue often tried as you build ties with Camelot.”
“Are you suggesting that patience might come in handy in dealing with Arthur?”
“I said no such thing.”
“Of course not, you would never be so disrespectful.”
“You see? You get me, Em’. I usually get accused of all sorts, but one night and you’ve got me sussed. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship. May I write you? I can’t bear the thought that these few days is all we’ll have together.”
“You’d knowingly befriend a sorcerer?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
“I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Why should you be surprised? You hardly know me.”
“I don’t need to know individual knights to know how you’ve inspired terror in those who practise magic or associate with those who do,” Merlin snapped, then took a breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.”
“Don’t ever apologise for being honest. I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought how you must see me.”
“Knights who wear those red cloaks have hunted me and those like me for decades, it’ll take more than one pleasant evening to overcome that.”
“I oughtn’t have been so presumptive. I truly like you, Emrys, and for whatever it’s worth, I believe Arthur is sincere in his desire to bring our peoples together once more.”
“I know, but there are those who are wary that this is a trap.”
“Why would it be a trap?”
“He’s his father’s son, it’s precisely the type of tactic Uther employed, luring Dragonlords in with the promise of peace.”
“What can I do to convince you he means it?”
“It’s not me that needs convincing. It’ll take time for others to see Arthur for who he truly is, but I’m confident he’ll get there.”
“I never served Uther. I became a knight under Arthur because I believed in the king he could be, he’s fair and just. It’s not a future I ever saw for myself. Don’t tell anyone, but my father was a knight for Caerleon, and I swore I’d never follow in his footsteps.”
“What changed?”
“A friend convinced me to see Arthur as his own man, and I realised that he was someone I could serve.”
“This friend means that much to you, that you’d change your whole life?”
“He did. We’ve not been close in a long while now, but I still value his opinions.”
“If he meant so much to you, why are you no longer close?”
“He’s devoted to Arthur, there’s no room for anyone else.”
Was that how Gwaine saw Merlin, as someone too busy running around after Arthur to maintain friendships with anyone else? He wanted to object, to tell him that he was wrong, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that it was true. Even though there had been no choice but to put the prophecy first, to prevent Arthur’s death, it had come at a great cost, one where Gwaine felt more comfortable talking to a stranger than to him.
“I’ve upset you,” Gwaine said.
“I know the weight of serving something greater, and not having much time for anything else besides.” Merlin placed a hand on Gwaine’s arm, “You should talk to him.”
Gwaine’s hand covered his for a moment, looking as though he were fighting some internal battle, then stood suddenly, having reached his decision, “I ought to retire for the night.”
“Yes,” Merlin blurted out before he could reconsider once more. “I would like to exchange letters with you.”
Gwaine smiled, inclined his head, and departed.
What was Merlin doing? It would be complicated writing to Gwaine while pretending he didn’t yet know the man. He wondered what he might learn of his friend, who confided in Emrys the way he used to Merlin. When had that stopped? Had he lost so much in fighting destiny? He'd never meant to push Gwaine away, but declining all social invitations had taken its toll on their friendship. It was no wonder Gwaine felt they were no longer close, no matter how much he still meant to Merlin, it had been too long since Merlin had told him.
~
Gwaine,
It has been my greatest pleasure making your acquaintance these past days, I can't recall when I last laughed so much nor so heartily. I miss the sound of your rumbling laugh already. I’ve asked the falcon who brought you this message to make himself available when you’re ready to send your reply.
Emrys
~
Emrys,
I’m delighted to hear from you, and even more so to know that you too miss me already. I’m hoping Arthur will think of something more he needs to discuss with you so that I might visit you again, or better yet perhaps, a prolonged stay for you in Camelot. I do not know when last I managed to spend entire nights talking, yet never run out of things to say. I had such a wonderful time getting to know you, my only regret was having to leave.
Gwaine
~
Gwaine,
I’m certain we will see each other again, and perhaps sooner than you might expect. Did you decide how you were going to proceed regarding contacting your mother?
Emrys
~
Emrys,
I’m delighted to inform you that I did indeed write to my mother, and it went better than I could have ever hoped. There might not be a visit any time soon, but she seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me, which was a pleasant surprise. Her health is improving, and it seems my sister is less of an evil, old toad since she married. My most heartfelt gratitude to you for encouraging me to rebuild a relationship with them.
I wonder whether the news might have reached you that Arthur is looking to once more fill the position of court sorcerer. Is that something you might consider? If the prophecy is anything to go by, it might just be a position created for you to fill and no one else.
On a more selfish note, I would relish the opportunity to see you most every day. As much as I enjoy our letters, there’s a different intimacy in a hushed nighttime conversation.
Yours,
Gwaine
~
My Gwaine,
As much as I would like to see you again, I’m afraid I could not accept a position in Arthur’s court at this time. It’s complicated, and I won’t trouble you with the details, but there is an outstanding concern regarding the prophecy that I need to take care of before revealing myself to the world at large. Although I trust you, I fear that there are those who would target me if they learned my name.
I wish I knew when I could next see you, if only so I could count down the days until then.
Yours,
Emrys
~
Dear Emrys,
I walk around with such a smile each time I receive a letter from you, I've been asked who the lucky lady is! I smile and say a gentleman doesn't tell, but I can't stop thinking of you. Perhaps you would care to meet for a picnic? I've a day off next week after returning from a patrol. I won’t ask you to come to Camelot if it would place you in danger, but I would very much like to see you.
Yours,
Gwaine
~
My Gwaine,
I'd be delighted to meet you again! There's a field of wildflowers with a small lake not too far from Camelot, perhaps a candle mark walk. It’s to the north, beyond the Darkling Woods. Do you know it?
Yours,
Emrys
~
Sounds like a perfect spot for a romantic rendezvous, my dear Emrys.
~
My Gwaine,
Apologies for the delay in my response; I took a detour on my route to relocate a griffin before it could cause panic by nearing settlements. They're surprisingly friendly creatures when they sense you don't mean them harm.
Perhaps you could bring some more of that blackberry wine?
Yours,
Emrys
~
My incredible Emrys,
Everything I learn about you is fascinating. I can’t think of any other man who could tell me he’d relocated a griffin that I’d believe. I've thankfully not come face-to-face with a griffin before, although I imagine I'd feel differently if you were there to introduce us.
I’d be delighted to bring you anything your heart desires, there will absolutely be blackberry wine.
Eagerly yours,
Gwaine
~
Gwaine had never been so eager for a patrol to come to an end, he may have been teased mercilessly about having someone he was yearning to get back to, but it would be worth it the moment he laid his eyes on Emrys, and possibly his lips as well if he drank enough wine to build up the courage. He didn’t know what Emrys saw in him, but he knew better than to question his good fortune.
He’d read and reread the letters from Emrys, wondering whether he was reading too much into the words. My Gwaine, the words claimed him as Emrys’s, yours, Emrys, giving himself to Gwaine as much as he took. As he made the journey to the lake, Gwaine’s hand found Emrys’s letter in his pocket once more, he checked the words again, hoping he knew which field Emrys meant. He wondered whether the little falcon was nearby, and would be willing to assist if needed.
As he passed through the woods he was greeted by a field of reds, yellows, and purples, flowers in full bloom, creating a sweet and tropical fragrance for their picnic. Emrys was nowhere to be seen, so Gwaine set out the blanket and basket of wine, fruits, and pastries.
The sun reached its peak, and there was still no sign of Emrys. Gwaine let himself fall backwards, throwing a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” a voice greeted.
“Not at all,” Gwaine beamed, “come, make yourself comfortable.”
They drank and ate, and the gap between them grew smaller. Gwaine reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Emrys’s eye. His heart beat fiercely with eager anticipation and fear of rejection. He didn’t think he’d misread Emrys’s signals, but the last time he’d thought someone cared for him in that manner, he’d been wrong.
Now was not the time to be thinking of Merlin, that horse had bolted. Emrys was here with him, but a breath away. Those who risked nothing, gained nothing. He leaned in and- Emrys’s eyes glowed a molten gold, as beautiful as it was terrifying. His gaze went past Gwaine. He turned his head to see what had captured his attention to find himself staring at an arrow halted in midair.
Emrys raised his hand and returned the arrow to the archer who loosed it. There was a sharp cry as the arrow found its target.
“You just saved my life,” Gwaine gasped as his lungs began working again. He kissed Emrys with relief of being alive, gratitude at being saved, and because he’d been about to do so anyway.
“Gwaine,” Emrys placed a hand on Gwaine’s chest, pushing him away gently.
“This isn’t just because you saved my life, I’ve been dreaming of your lips since we first met. I lied when I said my only regret was leaving you - I’ve regretted not kissing you sooner.”
“Gwaine,” Emrys repeated, exceptionally calm, “we need to go see who tried to kill us.”
“It’ll be a bandit, that’s all. There are far too many in the area.”
“When have you ever known a bandit to work alone? I should walk you back to Camelot.”
“Or we could track where he came from.”
“I can't guarantee your safety.”
“I'm not asking you to.”
“Alright.”
“Hell of a first date,” Gwaine muttered as they made their way to the treeline.
“Did you tell anyone we were meeting?”
“No one. I mean, it’s been pretty clear that I’ve been looking forward to meeting someone, but I didn’t tell anyone it was you. You asked me to keep our correspondence to myself, and I have done. Is there someone you suspect?”
Emrys declined to answer, instead turning his attention to the body. There were no colours to indicate allegiance, but the clothes were finer than was standard for bandits. Emrys checked the man’s pockets and found a totem, he closed his eyes and looked as though he were concentrating immensely, although Gwaine couldn’t have begun to guess on what. There was a flicker in his appearance, his face shifting momentarily. The gold eyes faded to blue on their way to returning to their usual brown, the jaw momentarily sharper before it squared again, the hair darkened briefly. There was a youthfulness to the features, as well as familiarity, even if it was gone again too soon to recognise in that single instance.
“What was that?” Gwaine asked.
“What was what?”
“Your face, something happened to it. Is this an illusion?”
“Not an illusion exactly, but not my real face either. Arthur has many enemies, and anyone who knows to target me would do more harm to Camelot than you could conceive of. It’s the easiest way to keep everyone safe.”
“You’ve lied to me about who you are.”
“I’ve lied to many people, over the course of many years. I’ve been more honest with you than most.”
The regret in Emrys’s voice sounded genuine, Gwaine regretted the hasty accusation.
“Can I see your real face?” Gwaine asked instead.
“You’ve been seen here with me, if there were others, it’s best they not think you’re worth interrogating. You can’t tell anyone what you don’t know.”
“Do you not trust me?”
“It’s not your loyalty that’s in question, it’s Morgana’s ruthlessness. I would not see you harmed on my behalf. I-”
“What?”
“I care for you too much for that. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt because of your association with me.”
“Why the disguise? You could have met me with any face, and none but us would have known you as Emrys.”
“This is the face you were expecting to see today, it’s easier if there’s consistency. There are those who know of my part in Arthur’s destiny, and would seek to prevent me from completing my part if they knew my identity. It was never my intention to deceive you.”
“It’s not because you’re secretly old?” Gwaine joked.
“If I’m honest, I’m a little younger than you.”
“You speak as though you’re older, wiser.”
“There are those who call me wise, I’m not sure they’re right. What if she's still out there?”
“Who?”
“Morgana. I thought I'd thwarted her. I saved Kara and stopped Mordred from betraying Arthur, I took away Morgana's magic. I prevented Camlann. Magic has been returned to Camelot, and the once and future king is working with Emrys. So what have I missed?”
“Perhaps you've not missed anything. Kingdoms will always have enemies, it may not be Morgana.”
“But there's supposed to be peace! I didn't give up everything in my life for this to still not be over. I can taste her magic on the totem.”
“Can we circle back to the Mordred betraying us thing real quick?”
“It's fine, that path has been closed. He has my complete trust now.”
“Emrys?”
“I’m sorry, Gwaine, I have to go.” Emrys reached out and stroked Gwaine’s cheek, before leaning in to kiss him. “I would very much have enjoyed staying with you longer. I had all sorts of ideas of how the evening might go, and this wasn’t one of them.”
“You could stay a little while longer,” Gwaine pleaded, sharing Emrys’s breath, not ready to let him go once more.
“The sooner I go, the better. The path he took is still fresh, but it will fade, I must follow it while I can.”
“There’s no sign of rain, his path will remain fresh if you leave it a little longer. Let’s go back and finish the wine.”
“That’s not the path I mean, there’s one I can see in my mind’s eye, it will fade irrespective of rain. Will you be alright making your way back to Camelot alone? I don’t sense anyone else here.”
“I could go with you.”
“There’s no telling how long I’ll be, or what danger I might face.”
“All the more reason to have a knight with you,” Gwaine insisted for entirely altruistic motives.
“I need you to go back to Camelot, this must be reported to Arthur. Please, guard him, keep him safe.”
“You have my word. Will you find your way back to me?”
Emrys kissed Gwaine deeply, regretting his required departure as much as Gwaine. When he began to pull away Gwaine tightened his arms around him, pulling him in once more.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Emrys promised breathlessly. “Write to me.”
And then he was gone.
~
My distracting Emrys,
I'm blaming you for the bruise across my thigh, I remembered your lips on mine and the rest of the world stopped existing. Then started existing again as Elyan’s sword hit me. As substantial as the bruise is, I think the bruise to my ego will take even longer to heal. I wish you were here, your presence would be a balm to both my bruises. I fear I’ll not be able to concentrate on anything until you’re back in my arms. Here’s hoping there’s no one else to find, and you can return to me soon.
Longingly yours,
Gwaine
~
My dear Gwaine,
Please don't get yourself killed because I distracted you. I wish I could be there to help you regain your focus, but it's going to be a while longer before I can return to Camelot. I can't say too much in a letter that may be intercepted, but I believe I may be nearing my target. I promise I’ll come back just as soon as I can.
Yours,
Emrys
~
My dearest Emrys,
What if I want all of my focus to be on you? I dream of nothing but you, and what your return may entail for us. Promise you'll stay safe and return to me. I wish you'd let me accompany you, you could do with having someone to watch your back out there. Besides that, I'm lonely. Merlin left to care for his sick mother, and he's been gone a worryingly long time. The longer he's gone, the more I fear for the outcome of his visit. Once he received word he was in such a rush to leave, it was left to poor Gaius to inform Arthur. I pray you both return soundly soon.
Yours,
Gwaine
~
My Gwaine,
I'm afraid I've hit a dead end here. I tracked Morgana to Strathclyde, but then the trail stops as though she disappeared into thin air. I fear whoever aided her has even greater power than she ever did, and I walked straight into their trap. Could I ask that you warn Arthur of what I've found so far? I'll come to Camelot and share the details I haven't dared commit to parchment.
If my estimates are accurate, I should arrive the day after the falcon. I'll land in the field where we last met. Please ask that Arthur tell his guard to stand down. If anyone fires at my dragon I'll have no choice but to leave.
I've missed you greatly and can hardly wait to see you once more. I'll leave it at that in case Arthur demands to see this letter once you tell him - there's only so much a king really needs to know about his subjects.
Faithfully yours,
Emrys
~
My dear Emrys,
I feared the worst in the days between your letters, you usually reply more quickly, regardless of where you were at in your journey. I'm unsure whether you'll receive this response before you're most of the way here, but I wanted to write regardless. You mention a trap, but not whether you're unharmed. I hope you're safe and well enough to travel. I'll be in the field awaiting your return.
Arthur indeed asked to see your latest letter, and the strangest thing happened: he asked why I was showing him a letter written by Merlin. I guess he's written enough speeches for Arthur to be familiar with his hand. It’s a strange coincidence.
We’ll be there to meet you. If you’d like us to bring Gaius (that’s the court physician) send a response, otherwise I’ll hope any ailment will not be so severe to prevent you from riding a horse the rest of the way.
Yours,
Gwaine