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impala_chickTitle: still haunted by the weight of those eyes
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing: Merlin/Gwaine
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 7,770
Summary: Merlin and Gwaine and their missed moments over the years. Lucky for both of them, they get a second chance many years after Camlann.
Tags: POV switching, canon compliant, missing scenes, getting together, pining for years, Gwaine knows about Merlin's magic, resurrection
A/N: For the Merlin Reverse Big Bang 2026, based off of this Merwaine fanvideo by tigereyes45.
Fic on AO3
Chapter 1: Borderlands
After they get back from Arthur's Princely quest, the entire castle is in an uncharacteristically incredible mood. Except Morgana, of course, but there's hardly anything Merlin can do about that except hope that maybe he's wrong to be so suspicious.
Too bad none of Arthur's good mood rubs off on Merlin. All he can think about is Gwaine, and the things he'd said around the campfire on the way to the Perilous Lands.
"You're the only friend I've got."
That can't be true. Gwaine was the friendliest and most genuine person Merlin knew. His energy was envigorating, and his smile was beautiful. Gwaine should have been swimming in friends. Swimming in women, at least.
It felt so wrong to leave him at the border. Gwaine deserved better. Even Arthur seemed to understand that, and yet there was nothing either he or Arthur could do to change anything about his exile. Merlinhated to just leave things as they were, with no plan to see Gwaine again in the future.
Merlin sighs as he carries Arthur's fresh bedsheets up to his room. He keeps picturing the small, upbeat smile that had been plastered on Gwaine's face before he rode away. Merlin could tell he was hiding his disappointment.
Merlin already misses him, truth be told. He knows that if Gwaine was in Camelot, he'd probably be cheerily helping him with chores. Or whisking him off to some adventure, no doubt getting him in trouble in the process. But Merlin wouldn't mind, not if it meant he could spend time with Gwaine.
He can hear people laughing and talking throughout the halls of the palace, and their cheerfulness annoys Merlin. Didn't they know that Gwaine wasn't allowed to join them? Gwaine had just risked his life, again, to help Arthur and yet no one could know. No one would sing Gwaine's praises.
Merlin spreads out the sheets on Arthur's bed while he is lost in thought. Sure, it had taken him a long time to find Gwaine before. He'd been tavern hopping in places he'd rather not visit ever again. But it had only been two days since they'd parted. Surely Gwaine couldn't have ridden that far. If Merlin set out now, he'd be able to find him.
He quickly finishes making Arthur's bed and dashes off. If he can catch Arthur in a good mood, he might just be able to get that day off he'd asked about before.
He finds Arthur seated at a table with a wine goblet in his hand, joyfully telling a table-full of nobles about the wyverns that nearly ate him. He ends the tale by saying he lopped their heads off, of course. He notices Merlin and gets up from the table while everyone is cheering. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. He looks like he's definitely tipsy.
"Is everything alright, Merlin? You look like you ate a bad egg or something."
"Ha. Can I please have the night off? You look perfectly content telling people of your solo adventure."
Arthur raises an eyebrow, and then squints his eyes as if he's deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.
"Fine. But make sure my bed is -"
Merlin cuts him off. "Done."
"And my chainmail is -"
"Did that too."
Arthur looks suitably humbled.
"Alright, thank you. Be back tomorrow for dinner service."
Merlin nods and spins around with a grin on his face. He's got limited time if he wants to catch Gwaine.
He packs a satchel in his room and then saddles one of the palace horses in record time. As he gallops away from Camelot, it occurs to him that he has no idea what he's going to say to Gwaine once he finds him.
Lucky for Merlin, his search goes much easier than he anticipated. Gwaine's at the very first tavern due east from Camelot's border, sitting in the back by himself. It's nearly dark, so the light inside is dim. But there's enough light from the gentle flame of the hearth near the back that Merlin can make out Gwaine's face, cast in shadow.
The barkeep barely looks up as Merlin makes his way over to the table. Gwaine's face is down-turned, uncharacteristically morose as he stares into his beer.
Merlin knocks his knuckles against the tabletop.
"Merlin?" Gwaine exclaims when he looks up, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. Again." He grins. "Can I sit?"
"Please don't tell me we have another quest. I was just about to turn in for the night. That was almost too much adventure for my blood."
"Oh, I don't believe that for a second." Merlin lowers himself onto the bench across from Gwaine. "But no, no quest."
Gwaine shrugs and leans forward, his elbows on the table. "So, you were looking for me, eh?"
Merlin bites his bottom lip and considers making up some excuse. Like Arthur wanted to tell him thank you or something. But that thought is fleeting. He doesn't know Gwaine as well as he'd like to, but he thinks he can least trust him with this bit of truth.
"Yeah, I did. It didn't feel right before, when we just left you at the border." Merlin meets Gwaine's eye after he says it, feeling nervous.
Gwaine grins wide, unabashed. "Ah, so you just want to spend time with me?"
"Maybe," Merlin shrugs, acting nonchalant even though he's relieved at Gwaine's reaction. "I've got to be back tomorrow though."
"Well then, let's make it worth your while. Next round's on me." Gwaine slaps his hand on the table, as if making it official, before he gets up to and walks towards the barkeep.
Merlin sighs. He is grateful Gwaine is making this so easy, when it could very well have been all kinds of awkward.
Gwaine brings over a pitcher of beer while his stomach flipflops wildly. He hides his nerves the best he can, with a toss of his hair and a flirty grin. He's not sure if it's landing, because Merlin just looks as smiley as he always does. Merlin gives nothing away when it comes to his personal feelings about Gwaine.
Usually he just runs into an old acquaintance at the tavern, or someone hunts him down because they want him to repay an old debt. Friends never track him down purposefully just so they can sit and talk with him.
Gwaine should not be surprised to find that Merlin makes absolutely incredible company when he's not running around stressed out in Camelot. He's charming and witty and his mouth keeps crinkling up at the corners when he's trying not to laugh. Gwaine decides he better slow down his drinking, just so he doesn't do something rash and come on to Merlin.
Merlin, for his part, picks up the slack when it comes to finishing off the pitcher. An hour into their little impromptu celebration, and Merlin has a high pink flush on his cheekbones, the color spreading down his neck all the way to his kerchief. Gwaine gets to enjoy the view as he watches Merlin swallow.
"So are there any lovely ladies waiting back in Camelot for you?" Gwaine can't help himself. In the dim light of the tavern, and with the beer buzzing in his veins, Gwaine wants to see if he can fish for gossip. Maybe find out if Merlin is otherwise promised to someone else.
Merlin's lips turn down into a slight frown. "Oh, Gwen might be worried about me, actually. I forgot to tell her where I was going."
Gwaine controls his expression as he says, "Ah, Gwen definitely qualifies as a lovely lady. But I'm sure she won't be too worried."
Merlin brightens up at that as he nods in agreement. "You're probably right."
"How's she doing, anyway?" Gwaine tries not to show how overly curious he is. Surely Merlin and Gwen aren't … together.
Merlin launches into a tale involving Gwen and Merlin secretly fixing up one of Morgana's dresses after a seamstress made a mistake before Morgana could find out, and Merlin talks with affection for Gwen evident in his voice.
Gwaine isn't sure where that leaves him. He's got no more information than he did when he started this conversation. So he changes tact and gives up on such a fruitless endeavor. Instead, he makes it his mission to make Merlin laugh, just so see the lovely way his eyes light up. His cheeks flush even pinker, and Gwaine can't take his eyes off of him.
Gwaine is usually fairly straightforward when he's interested in someone. By now he's figured out that he's definitely interested in Merlin. But Merlin hasn't given him any outward sign that he's interested back, beyond showing up at his tavern.
Once they finish the pitcher between them, Merlin yawns and rubs his eyes. It occurs to Gwaine that Merlin hasn't said anything about his sleeping arrangements.
Gwaine asks, "Where are you staying tonight?"
"Hadn't really planned that far ahead, to be honest," Merlin says, his voice steady.
"I got a room already. We can share. But I should tell you, Merlin," Gwaine leans in conspiratorially so he can whisper. "I snore."
Merlin grins and puts down his glass. "I can manage, I think."
"Shall we call it a night, then?" Gwaine starts scooping up the pitcher and his glass.
Merlin nods and picks up his glass as he stifles another huge yawn. Gwaine yawns too. Those things are contagious.
They drop the glasses off with the barkeep. Once Merlin starts up the stairs, Gwaine follows. It's not exactly intentional, but Gwaine is not complaining about the view. Some parts of Merlin seem almost delicate, like the bones in his wrist or the gentle curve of his jaw. The way his slacks pull across his arse though - Gwaine would not describe that as delicate.
Gwaine points out which room is his, and then unlocks the door with the key from his pocket. He's glad he hardly spent any time in the room, because it's still just as orderly as it was when he checked in, minus his bag that he'd thrown onto the bed.
He grabs the candle from the bedside table and lights it out in the hall with the wall sconce before he comes back in and shuts the door.
"You can have the bed, Merlin. That way, I can repay the kindness you did to me back in Camelot."
Merlin looks between Gwaine and the bed, hesitant. But then after a moment, Gwaine gestures for him to go ahead. Merlin grins gratefully and bounds over to it.
"Thanks, Gwaine. You're a real prince," he says as he lays down and spreads himself out.
That makes Gwaine guffaw. "Now I know you're just insulting me."
"I would never," Merlin teases.
Gwaine puts the candle on the bedside table. He glances over at Merlin, who is flopped down on the bed with his eyes closed already. The golden candelight falls across his face and his long lashes are almost too beautiful to look at.
Merlin opens one eye and catches Gwaine looking.
"Thanks, Gwaine. This is nice."
Gwaine nods magnanimously, and they stare at each other for a beat longer than seems appropriate. Gwaine feels goosebumps break out along his arms, and he sees Merlin glance down at his mouth. Neither of them move, and yet Gwaine's heart thunders in his chest.
The moment stretches, and Gwaine nearly walks towards the bed, but then Merlin gets up on one elbow and blows out the candle. Gwaine turns away, grabs the thick blanket off of the foot of the bed, and spreads it out on the floor. He sighs as he lays down. He's slept in much worse places. And now at least Merlin is close.
The darkness that settles over them is heavy but not uncomfortable. Gwaine's slept in Merlin's bed but somehow this seems more intimate than that. Probably because this time, Gwaine knows Merlin went out of his way to find him. And because Merlin had just been staring at him like he had more to say.
"Did you have a good time at least?" Gwaine asks after a beat, not sure if Merlin is still awake.
"I did," Merlin says softly.
"I wouldn't want you to waste your only night off."
Merlin sounds amused when he says, "Trust me Gwaine, I haven't."
Gwaine grins so hard that he's sure he'll fall asleep like that. Instead, he lays awake for far too long, his skin feeling tight as he listens to Merlin breathe.
The next morning, with the light streaming in through the single grime-covered window, Gwaine wakes up before Merlin. No doubt because Merlin is enjoying a chance to sleep in, when no morning responsibilities await him.
Gwaine quickly dashes downstairs to get mince pies for breakfast. He carefully pushes open the door when he gets back, and is glad to find Merlin still in bed. He puts the mince pies on the bedside table and sets about rolling up the blanket he'd used as a bed. Maybe he should pay for a proper bath too, but it's probably not worth the trouble if he's going to ride out of town as soon as Merlin wakes up. He'll just get all sweaty again.
Merlin starts to stir, and Gwaine eagerly sits on the edge of the bed.
"Good morning!" he says. "I brought you breakfast."
Merlin sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. His red kerchief is askew and Gwaine holds himself back from reaching over to fix it.
"You did?" Merlin sounds genuinely surprised by the gesture. "Thank you."
Gwaine's heart feels full from the appreciation in Merlin's voice.
"So you have to leave this morning?"
"I do," Merlin says before he bites into the pie.
"Then I'll ride to the border with you."
Merlin shakes his head. "You don't have to do that."
"I know, but I've got no place better to be today."
Merlin smiles, clearly pleased.
What Gwaine doesn't say is that he's not ready to leave Merlin yet. He doesn't know when he'll get to see him again. He has to take advantage of the time he has.
Gwaine thinks if Merlin hasn't caught on by now to Gwaine's keen interest in him, he might never catch on. Gwaine is being rather obvious, which is normally his style anyway. Or maybe Merlin does notice and is being polite about it, just so he doesn't have to turn Gwaine down.
Gwaine lets that thought humble him as they ride away from the tavern. It's not like Gwaine can properly court Merlin anyway, considering he can't even step foot in Camelot.
Merlin rode all the way out to see him. They spent all night together. Merlin seems happy. These are all momentous things that Gwaine will cherish. And yet, for Gwaine, it isn't nearly enough. Saying goodbye for the second time in as many days feels like a punch to the gut.
Gwaine does it with a smile plastered on his face, though. He doesn't want to make Merlin regret visiting him.
Chapter 2: The Caves
There's been no time to talk to Merlin. From the moment he sees him in Jarl's pit until they run from Morgana's army of immortal soldiers, they can't even catch a second for themselves.
Which is a damn shame, really. Gwaine had been thinking about Merlin practically non-stop ever since he left him at the border. He couldn't help but think they'd missed their chance. He wanted to do something about that. He'd had this grand plan to return to Camelot, or send a message to Merlin, maybe even give him his favor in order to make is intentions known to Merlin.
He'd been ready to at least tell him he'd missed him, and he'd been thinking about him all the time.
But those plans had been thoroughly dashed to pieces. Being in mortal danger really left no time for trifling things like love confessions.
Besides, as soon as Gwaine got to Camelot, Merlin sent him off with Gaius and Elyan to the caves. He trusts Merlin and he knows that he can take care of himself. And Gwaine also knows, although he'd never admit it, that Arthur is just as good of a fighter as he is. Merlin is well-protected.
But now, just sitting around with nothing to do feels horrible. Gwaine has never been one to sit and wait for things to happen. Barging back into Camelot when Merlin had asked him to wait is a stupid idea. He knows he'll never get past even one immortal guard.
Gwaine paces inside their hidden cave. With nothing better to do, he starts replaying the events of the last few days. Maybe there's something he missed that could help Merlin and Arthur retake Camelot. Instead of being productive, he keeps getting stuck thinking about the moment when Merlin was tending to Arthur by their hastily made camp. Arthur looked as good as dead with his leg so severely infected, but Merlin did something, whispered some secret ancient words, and Arthur had lived. Maybe Arthur really was that lucky, and he healed on his own. But now that Gwaine thinks about it, that situation seemed like a predicament only magic could have gotten them out of.
He's not particularly disturbed by the idea of Merlin using magic, though. Gwaine knows magic is banned in Camelot. That's a good enough reason for Merlin to want to keep that to himself. And Gwaine doesn't even know for sure if there was magic involved or not. Maybe Merlin had brought a really powerful potion with him. Gwaine is in no position to pry.
So he keeps on waiting with nothing to do, worrying and growing more cantankerous by the hour, until Merlin arrives at the cave.
Relief floods Gwaine when Merlin shows up. They only have time for a quick hug before Merlin begins urgently conversing with Gaius. Even though Merlin is preoccupied, and rightly so, Gwaine just wants to be supportive. Whatever it is that Merlin needs him to do, he will do.
The caves leave no room for any sort of privacy. Gaius and Arthur and Lancelot and the new guy are all practically living on top of each other, and the way Merlin is whispering to Gaius and Lancelot seems to indicate he's clearly cooking up some scheme that he doesn't feel inclined to let Gwaine in on. Gwaine would ordinarily feel annoyed at being left out, but then, everything changes.
While Merlin thought everyone was asleep, he began talking to water. Gwaine wasn't trying to intrude, but he really had to piss. And then, when he came back, he heard Merlin whispering strange, unfamiliar words, like he had in the woods. Then, his eyes flash gold briefly in the dark cave. Gwaine could have explained all of that away again, except.
The water was answering, in a woman's voice.
No mere mortal man could make water talk.
Gwaine is not afraid of magic. In all of his travels, he has seen people wield magic in good and bad ways. He believes that every person must be judged by what they do, not where they came from or who their family is. He would extend that same courtesy to any magic user.
Now it's not mere conjecture. Gwaine knows Merlin has magic. And he also knows that Merlin is purposefully trying to keep it a secret from him. He must have done something to make Merlin doubt his loyalty.
Gwaine lays in the dark and decides to say nothing. Surely Merlin would have told him if he felt safe enough to do so.
The lack of a plan and the extreme restlessness of everyone in the cave does nothing to make Gwaine feel any better about the situation.
The next night, Gwaine notices Lancelot and Merlin whispering in the dark. They are rolled towards each other, close in the fading light of the fire. Their hushed tones barely carry in the cave, and yet Gwaine can tell they're talking quickly, as if negotiating. Something is afoot, something that he doesn't get to know about.
Merlin has chosen who to trust, and it isn't Gwaine. Gwaine's chest feels tight from jealousy that he wishes he could will away.
Gwaine wouldn't dream of outing Merlin or humiliating him. But he wishes things were different. He wishes Merlin had chosen him. He knows he must keep all of this to himself, lest he accidentally put Merlin in danger.
Maybe one day he can prove to Merlin he is trustworthy. Maybe becoming a knight, and proving his valor and loyalty to Camelot, will sway Merlin. He can protect Merlin from afar, and he can leave him be, and maybe one day Merlin will want to talk to him about his most precious secret.
Gwaine desperately hopes he gets his chance to prove himself.
Merlin didn't mean to break the Fisher King's hour glass, but now that he has, panic wells up inside him, threatening to choke him. He dumbly pushes his fingers through the water, trying to save it from being lost forever. This hour glass was his last hope, and he feels tears prick his eyes as he can do nothing but watch the water slip over a smooth rock.
Then, it shimmers unnaturally and Merlin steals himself. He has no idea what's about to happen, but he's very aware that he's not alone in the cave. He quickly glances around, but it appears that everyone is asleep.
When Freya appears, Merlin gasps.
Hope blooms anew, and the tears in Merlin's eyes are happy tears as he talks to her. She talks back. It's really her! And she has valuable information for him, a quest he never would have thought of on his own.
He's interrupted when he feels eyes on him in the dark. He turns, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he frantically thinks up some excuse. It turns out it's Gwaine. In a concerned tone, he asks him if anything is wrong, and Merlin feels tense all over. He nearly can't breathe when he answers with his silly excuse. But Gwaine doesn't push.
When Merlin turns back, Freya is gone, and Merlin is nearly overwhelmed with the loneliness that settles over him like a thick blanket.
For a brief moment, he had someone to talk to without fear. Freya never judged him, and always accepted every part of him. He wishes desperately to see her face again, just for a moment.
As he stares at the completely ordinary puddle of water, he mourns the life he could have if everyone knew he had magic. If people would accept him for his secret. He knows it's a stupid thought, but he allows himself a moment of weakness.
He glances over at Gwaine, who appears to have gone back to sleep. He's laying on his back with his arm behind his head, his eyes closed.
Merlin sighs. It would seem that Gwaine hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He's mostly relieved, but he's also a little disappointed. It would make it so much easier if Gwaine just … found out. Then Merlin wouldn't have to agonize over the decision about whether to tell him his secret.
He's thought about it before, of course. Gwaine is trustworthy, and loyal, and Merlin wants to trust him completely. But Merlin doesn't want to put Gwaine in the awkward position of having to lie for him. It's just not fair to Gwaine.
Even if Merlin wanted to change his mind, he knows he can't. There is no way to get any semblance of privacy in the cave. He hasn't even dared talk to Lancelot in case someone overhears them.
Merlin isn't stuck in his loneliness for long, as Lancelot finds an opportune moment to whisper to him in the dark. He knows more about Merlin than anyone else beyond Gaius. He is the perfect person to lean on, and Merlin should have relied on him sooner. His friendship gives Merlin hope. And if anything were to happen, Merlin is able to protect Lancelot without having to hide his magic. When Lancelot stays by his side, and even rides back into danger with Merlin, he wonders again if telling Gwaine is the right thing to do.
Except Lancelot dies on the Isle of the Blessed, and it changes everything.
Lancelot would never have known to take such action, and indeed would never have made such a choice at all, if he didn't know about Merlin's magic. He wouldn't have even been present at the Isle of the Blessed. Merlin knows Lancelot would not want him to feel responsible, but he does. He has to carry that guilt with him forever, and a hollow put opens up in his gut that he doubts will ever go away.
Harm befalls those that know his secret, that much is clear. It is better if he tell no one. He must protect them in shadow, best he can. He must not tell Gwaine, most of all. He can't take that chance with Gwaine's life.
Chapter 3: Camlann
Things are simpler now that Gwaine has become a knight. Merlin doesn't have to agonize over whether to tell Gwaine about his personal feelings. There is no reason to pursue something that cannot happen, or distract him from his duty to Camelot. Merlin knows that their duty to Camelot comes first, above all else.
Sometimes he notices Gwaine looking at him across the practice field, or across Arthur's round table. Merlin meets his gaze, and likes to catch Gwaine looking at him. It makes him feel special, somehow. But that is all Merlin will permit himself to do. Merlin has no choice to make. The only answer is to keep Gwaine a safe distance away.
That safety is shattered when Morgana declares war on them all. Merlin can think of nothing except Camlann once the word leaves Arthur's lips.
It would seem that Morgana is one step ahead of him, because not soon after that, Merlin loses his powers. He could weep from the way it feels to be separated from the very essence of what makes him himself.
Arthur is headed to his doom, and it kills Merlin to leave just as he's preparing to leave for battle. But leave he must. It's the only way to even the odds, to have any chance of beating her for good. But knows he cannot go alone, not without his magic. When he thinks about who should accompany him to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, only one man comes to mind. One man that he trusts with his life. One man that has never asked anything of him, but has instead been true to him without ever expecting anything in return.
Merlin bursts into Gwaine's chambers and doesn't bother searching for the right words. He knows that with Gwaine, he can be straightforward.
"Gwaine, I need to ask you for a favor. And it's going to sound crazy," Merlin blurts out.
"For you, anything," Gwaine says with a smile so sincere that Merlin's heart constricts.
Merlin blows out a breath and starts to pace across the wood floor in front of Gwaine's bed. Gwaine runs a hand through his long hair and sits down on the edge of his mattress.
"It must be serious if you're worked up like this," Gwaine teases.
Merlin bites his lip before he meets Gwaine's gaze. "It is deadly serious, I'm afraid."
Gwaine's smile shrinks as a serious expression settles on his face.
"Okay, then."
Merlin keeps pacing as he speaks. "I need someone to accompany me to the Valley of the Fallen Kings. There could be bandits or Morgana's troops along the way. You can't ask me any questions, and we have to leave by nightfall."
Gwaine cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, is that all?"
His tone is light and the corner of his mouth curls into a smile again. He's clearly teasing.
"I'm serious, Gwaine. I have to do this. I could really use your help."
"Why me?"
Merlin stops pacing, just because the question catches him off guard.
"Because you're the bravest knight I know," Merlin answers sincerely as he takes a knee in front of Gwaine. Merlin feels almost ready to beg. He won't find the courage to leave Camelot in its darkest hour without Gwaine by his side. "And I trust you."
Gwaine's eyes crinkle at the corners before his gaze is drawn to Merlin's mouth. His right hand raises from his leg, as if he's going to reach out and touch, but then he stops.
"I know you said no questions, but does Arthur know?"
Merlin briefly debates what to say. He does not want to make Gwaine have to lie for him.
"Would it change your answer either way?"
Gwaine only hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head. "I guess not. Let me pack a few things."
"So you'll go with me?"
"Of course," Gwaine says, like that much is obvious.
Merlin jumps up from his place on the floor and throws his arms around Gwaine. He's humbled by and grateful for Gwaine's loyalty. Gwaine laughs into his hair, and hugs him back.
"If you're asking, I know it must be important," Gwaine says softly.
Merlin murmurs his thanks before he rushes out of the room. He has to ready the horses. He fears that he cannot look at Gwaine any longer without saying something entirely too emotional. This moment requires his clarity of mind and steadfast determination, and he has no time for sentimentality. Arthur's life and the future of Camelot depends on this mission.
He and Gwaine ride out of Camelot and into the forest at breakneck speed. It doesn't take long for the neck of his horse to be visibly shiny with sweat. They can't talk over the twin clatter of hooves, but Merlin is thankful for that. There is nothing left to say. He can only hope that this feeble plan will work.
Once at the Crystal Cave, he steals himself before he has to say goodbye. Merlin's fingers itch to reach out and touch. He thinks of kissing Gwaine, entertaining the notion only briefly. He nearly laughs at himself. It's been so long since he'd indulged in such fantasies, and now was certainly not the time.
But when Gwaine hands him his sword, tears nearly well up in Merlin's eyes. It all seems too much, too serious. Gwaine doesn't ask any questions, but Merlin gets the sense that Gwaine knows the importance of this moment.
Merlin has to look away and get back to business, for the sake of Camelot. So he doesn't kiss Gwaine, even though he longs for that type of physical intimacy. He contents himself with one last, long look.
He doesn't know that when he says goodbye, he won't see Gwaine for many, many years.
Gwaine is looking out his window, gazing down at the palace courtyard, at the people dashing back and forth with baskets and carts and bags. They are preparing for battle, just as he had been. He's already done checking his armor and sharpening his sword. There is nothing left for him to prepare, except his mind. He hates this part, because it means that he can only wait for action to begin. The cards will fall how they ought to, though, he must believe that.
He doesn't know when he will be back in his room again, so he looks around and takes a deep, steadying breathe. He fights for himself, yes. But he fights also for Camelot, and for all of the people down in that courtyard. They give him strength without even knowing it.
Just then his door bursts open, and Merlin strides in with a determined look on his face. Gwaine can already tell he's got something to ask, even before he speaks.
"Gwaine, I need to ask you for a favor. And it's going to sound crazy."
Looking at Merlin know, his mouth set in a grim line, Gwaine feels real fear about the future for the first time. He might not know Merlin as well as he'd like to, but he knows him well enough. Something has happened.
"For you, anything."
And it's not a platitude. Gwaine's loyalty has never been divided. To be loyal to Merlin is to be loyal to Camelot, because Gwaine knows that Merlin's magic has guided and protected Arthur's reign. Even if Arthur himself cannot see it, Gwaine can. So if Merlin is asking for a favor now, on the eve of battle, he knows it must be for the sake of Camelot's survival.
Merlin's pacing is making Gwaine nervous, though. He sits on the bed, just to try to get Merlin to stop. Then he tries to tease him to lighten the mood. Merlin is having none of it, but that tells Gwaine the situation is more dire than he'd anticipated. When he says they must ride off immediately, Gwaine is accepting. He'd hated waiting around, anyway.
He does want to know something, though. After all this time, he had figured he and Merlin were growing apart. There were plenty of knights for Merlin to choose from to accompany him on this mission. The knights are smart enough to realize that Merlin does Arthur's bidding, so they all obey Merlin too. Merlin could have asked anyone else, and yet he still walked all the way to Gwaine's chambers.
"Why me?"
Merlin stops moving, and meets Gwaine's gaze. He sinks to one knee, as if laying himself at Gwaine's feet and Gwaine's mercy. Old emotions bloom in Gwaine's heart, feelings he thought had long expired.
"Because you're the bravest knight I know. And I trust you."
The words please him, even though he knows they are not true. Not completely, anyway. Otherwise, Merlin would have told him about his magic. Merlin's gaze is steady and sure, his lips slightly parted, and Gwaine briefly entertains telling Merlin that he knows. He knows, and he doesn't care, and he thinks Merlin is the best of them all for all that he's done.
He lifts up his arm, reaching for Merlin, only to stop himself. They have a mission to complete, and by the looks of it, no time to waste.
Then it occurs to Gwaine that maybe Arthur doesn't know about what they're doing at all. Arthur isn't aware of Merlin's magic, otherwise Merlin wouldn't have made such an effort to conceal his secret. A small, selfish part of him wants to know if Merlin is asking for his help in defiance of Arthur. And if they are doing this without Arthur's permission, it must involve magic somehow.
"I know you said no questions, but does Arthur know?" Gwaine asks.
"Would it change your answer either way?"
That is answer enough. This is another secret, then. Gwaine can't help but feel privileged. Where before he wondered why Merlin chose him, now he knows it was not just because of his skills as a knight. It is because Merlin does trust Gwaine, at least with a trip that could be integral to the future of Camelot. A trip that Merlin can't even tell Arthur about.
"I guess not. Let me pack a few things," Gwaine says. He's grateful he already put his battle kit together. He'll be ready in minutes. He hasn't yet said goodbye to Eira, though. He figures he owes her that much, even if he doesn't want to leave Merlin's side when he looks so keen to leave.
Merlin looks up at him, the admiration plain on his face. "So you'll go with me?"
"Of course."
Merlin rises from the floor, and Gwaine is ready with open arms. A hug is such a simple thing, and yet it lifts Gwaine's spirits immensely. They are still a team, and they still care about each other. The simple joy of holding Merlin in his arms causes a huff of laughter to bubble up out of his throat and into Merlin's hair.
When Merlin readies to leave, Gwaine can't help but say something else. He wants Merlin to know he'd ride out at Merlin's request no matter the cost. Because he still loves him.
Instead he says, "If you're asking, I know it must be important."
He hopes Merlin can feel the gravity with which Gwaine speaks. Because Gwaine knows full well that they might never return to the castle.
When Merlin says that Gwaine must leave him at the crystal caves, Gwaine does the only thing he knows to do. He gives Merlin his sword, the symbol of his strength and the source of his pride as a knight. It's a bigger gesture than tying his favor around Merlin's wrist.
Whatever it is that he must do, he must do it alone, without a non-magic user like Gwaine. So Gwaine accepts that he is needed elsewhere. Gwaine has to trust Merlin and his magic, just as he's done many times before.
He clasps Merlin's hand, not bothering to hide the devotion from his eyes.
Looking back on that moment, Gwaine wishes he'd said more. He stews on it until he throws himself into battle, able to empty his mind and focus only on the clashing of metal against metal, of bodies against bodies.
And then after, when he survives, his anger threatens to overwhelm him. His anger at Morgana, for sending Eira to betray him. His anger at Gaius, for returning without Merlin alive. And his anger at Arthur, for getting himself hurt and forcing Merlin to rescue him.
So many are dead, and Gwaine saw the bloodshed with his own eyes. He doesn't bear the burden of guilt of well. Merlin nor Arthur are there to talk sense into him. And if he's honest, he felt abandoned and lost. The darkness shrouding his heart doesn't dissipate, and he gets too desperate to think straight. That is why he goes after Morgana. Maybe he can avenge Camelot himself.
The snake that Morgana sets on him doesn't offer him absolution. Only more pain and suffering. You have always been a fool, a small voice in his head says. He can't tell if it's Morgana or himself speaking. He doesn't even recognize his own voice when Morgana pulls the truth from him.
After, he cannot withstand his own betrayal and his feeble body collapses against his bindings. When Morgana leaves, he tries to focus on Percival's gaze, but he can't.
He only hopes Merlin can forgive him.
Chapter 4: After
Gwaine wakes up and can't breathe. It takes effort to blink, and it takes him a few more seconds after that to realize he's underwater. He spins around, trying to orient himself. There's just murky green water, too dark below him to see how deep it goes. He spins again and sees light. He kicks out and up, heading towards the light. He has to get to the surface before he can think about anything else, so he focuses on getting into a steady rhythm with each stroke. The light becomes brighter and brighter until he reaches the surface and bursts up out of the water.
He gasps, dragging in a breathe, and his lungs feel like they're burning. The sun is so bright that it takes a minute for his eyes to adjust. He treads water and looks down at himself. His armor is gone, and he's wearing a simple red tunic and pants, which are soaking wet and clinging to his body. When last he was awake, he was tied between two poles with his armor still on, as Percival screamed his name, so waking up underwater makes no sense.
But then he remembers that Morgana was torturing him. He turns around in the water, searching for her, as dread spikes through him and makes his stomach drop. Perhaps this is another illusion.
In the distance, he can see a sandy shore. There's a man sitting on the beach with nearly white hair, but Gwaine is not close enough to be able to tell who it is. It's definitely not Morgana, though. Gwaine slaps the water in relief and starts to paddle towards the man, eager to figure out where he is. Maybe this man has answers for him.
The man is wearing strange clothes. It looks like he has some kind of jacket on, but Gwaine doesn't recognize the fabric. His pants are dark blue, but they look stiff and unfamiliar. He doesn't appear to be from Camelot.
Soon, Gwaine's toes brush wet sand, and he realizes the lake has gotten shallow enough for him to stand up. He does so, eager to approach the man, desperately hoping he is friendly instead of a foe. As he walks, the man's facial features become evident. Gwaine stops and gasps. Even though the man's eyes are closed, Gwaine would recognize that face anywhere.
His second chance is sitting on the shore.
"Oh, it's you." The words fall from Gwaine's lips, as he looks on in amazement.
Merlin finally opens his eyes and looks up, meeting Gwaine's gaze. At the sight of his peircing blue eyes, electricity zips through Gwaine's veins. It really is Merlin, albeit much older than when Gwaine last saw him. Gwaine does not know how Merlin ended up here, but it would seem that he has been waiting for him. A gentle smile graces Merlin's lips as Gwaine begins to walk again, his heart hammering in his chest. He's never felt so alive.
"Of course it's me. What took you so long?"
Merlin never considered how lonely immortality would be. He's been keeping up with the times. He even got a cell phone and a computer. He's kept his house forever, so he never really needed to have the money that a steady job provides. But at this point he keeps a job just to pass the time, and pay for a second flat in the city. He likes his flat in town, it allows him to see normal people and interact with them. He doesn't really feel settled anywhere, though. He hasn't felt at home since Gwen passed away.
He has an apprentice, a magic user who connected with him online of all places. Now they practice magic every week, and Merlin thinks of Gaius often. But he hasn't known her long enough to feel truly connected to her. It's not her fault. After he's been alive several lifetimes, a few years hardly feels like much time at all.
He still ventures out to the Isle of the Blessed every so often, just to make sure if anyone comes back to the present, anyone he knows, he can greet them. He still holds out hope that he will be needed again. He often wonders if Morgana will make an appearance, too. He hasn't decided yet what he'll do if he sees her.
On a bright but otherwise ordinary day, Merlin makes his weekly pilgrimage. When he arrives, he puts his wooden staff down against a rock and sits down on the sandy shore. It's comforting to hear the waves gently lapping against the beach, and to see the that the Isle of the Blessed still stands tall in the distance. Time goes on, but it seems to leave this little patch of magic alone. Merlin closes his eyes and breathes in deep.
He can feel something change, something subtle. Perhaps the wind changed direction. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He's felt this tingle before, in this place, as if he's not alone. That's because magic is a living, breathing thing, and in this place, magic is all around. It doesn't necessarily mean anything more than that.
So Merlin doesn't open his eyes right away. He's not expecting anyone.
Then he hears a splash. Something has disturbed the water.
He can feel him before he sees him. His presence is comforting, like he was always meant to appear. Merlin cracks one eye open, and grins slowly.
Gwaine is walking toward the shore. He looks just as he did when Merlin last saw him, except he's wearing a tunic and pants instead of his armor.
"Oh, it's you," Gwaine says, easy as breathing. He tosses his shaggy hair out of his eyes. His red tunic is soaking wet and clings to his chest. At first, Merlin thinks he isn't real, just a mirage conjured up by his mind because he has imagined a moment like this many times.
"Of course it's me," Merlin says. He pushes a hand into the coarse sand of the beach and rises up onto his feet. "What took you so long?"
Gwaine laughs. "What do you mean? I blinked, and then I was swimming for my life towards the surface."
Merlin had wondered if those waiting at the Isle of the Blessed would feel time passing. Merlin is glad Gwaine has not felt trapped. "That's for the best, really. I'll have to fill you in. It's been ages."
Gwaine reaches for Merlin and gathers him into his arms. Merlin goes willingly, even though he can feel the lake water of Gwaine's shirt pressing against Merlin's chest. Gwaine's arms feel solid against Merlin and he presses his nose into Gwaine's neck. He smells like sweat and lake water. It's really him and he's alive. Tears prick Merlin's eyes. He's waited so damn long for this.
"I'm glad you came back to me," Merlin breathes, trying not to feel overwhelmed.
Gwaine pulls back and then presses a kiss to Merlin's lips. They're plush and warm against Merlin's mouth, and they breathe together. Merlin should have known they would fit together so seamlessly, as if they were always meant to end up here.
"You really are magical," Gwaine says reverently against his mouth. "Did you bring me here?"
Merlin huffs a laugh with eyes wide, amused at the way Gwaine chose to admit he knows about Merlin's magic. "I should have known you figured it out. But no, I think the lake brought you to me."
Gwaine rests his forehead against Merlin's. He looks like he's in a dream, his eyes glazed and his mouth shiny from kissing.
"Shall we wait in case the others come?" Gwaine says quietly as he wraps his fingers possessively around Merlin's hips.
"Sure," Merlin agrees, his heart pounding in his chest. He's not sure if anyone else will arrive. But with Gwaine here, holding him, already knowing about his magic, he feels settled. Finally.
/fin.
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing: Merlin/Gwaine
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 7,770
Summary: Merlin and Gwaine and their missed moments over the years. Lucky for both of them, they get a second chance many years after Camlann.
Tags: POV switching, canon compliant, missing scenes, getting together, pining for years, Gwaine knows about Merlin's magic, resurrection
A/N: For the Merlin Reverse Big Bang 2026, based off of this Merwaine fanvideo by tigereyes45.
Fic on AO3
After they get back from Arthur's Princely quest, the entire castle is in an uncharacteristically incredible mood. Except Morgana, of course, but there's hardly anything Merlin can do about that except hope that maybe he's wrong to be so suspicious.
Too bad none of Arthur's good mood rubs off on Merlin. All he can think about is Gwaine, and the things he'd said around the campfire on the way to the Perilous Lands.
"You're the only friend I've got."
That can't be true. Gwaine was the friendliest and most genuine person Merlin knew. His energy was envigorating, and his smile was beautiful. Gwaine should have been swimming in friends. Swimming in women, at least.
It felt so wrong to leave him at the border. Gwaine deserved better. Even Arthur seemed to understand that, and yet there was nothing either he or Arthur could do to change anything about his exile. Merlinhated to just leave things as they were, with no plan to see Gwaine again in the future.
Merlin sighs as he carries Arthur's fresh bedsheets up to his room. He keeps picturing the small, upbeat smile that had been plastered on Gwaine's face before he rode away. Merlin could tell he was hiding his disappointment.
Merlin already misses him, truth be told. He knows that if Gwaine was in Camelot, he'd probably be cheerily helping him with chores. Or whisking him off to some adventure, no doubt getting him in trouble in the process. But Merlin wouldn't mind, not if it meant he could spend time with Gwaine.
He can hear people laughing and talking throughout the halls of the palace, and their cheerfulness annoys Merlin. Didn't they know that Gwaine wasn't allowed to join them? Gwaine had just risked his life, again, to help Arthur and yet no one could know. No one would sing Gwaine's praises.
Merlin spreads out the sheets on Arthur's bed while he is lost in thought. Sure, it had taken him a long time to find Gwaine before. He'd been tavern hopping in places he'd rather not visit ever again. But it had only been two days since they'd parted. Surely Gwaine couldn't have ridden that far. If Merlin set out now, he'd be able to find him.
He quickly finishes making Arthur's bed and dashes off. If he can catch Arthur in a good mood, he might just be able to get that day off he'd asked about before.
He finds Arthur seated at a table with a wine goblet in his hand, joyfully telling a table-full of nobles about the wyverns that nearly ate him. He ends the tale by saying he lopped their heads off, of course. He notices Merlin and gets up from the table while everyone is cheering. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. He looks like he's definitely tipsy.
"Is everything alright, Merlin? You look like you ate a bad egg or something."
"Ha. Can I please have the night off? You look perfectly content telling people of your solo adventure."
Arthur raises an eyebrow, and then squints his eyes as if he's deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.
"Fine. But make sure my bed is -"
Merlin cuts him off. "Done."
"And my chainmail is -"
"Did that too."
Arthur looks suitably humbled.
"Alright, thank you. Be back tomorrow for dinner service."
Merlin nods and spins around with a grin on his face. He's got limited time if he wants to catch Gwaine.
He packs a satchel in his room and then saddles one of the palace horses in record time. As he gallops away from Camelot, it occurs to him that he has no idea what he's going to say to Gwaine once he finds him.
Lucky for Merlin, his search goes much easier than he anticipated. Gwaine's at the very first tavern due east from Camelot's border, sitting in the back by himself. It's nearly dark, so the light inside is dim. But there's enough light from the gentle flame of the hearth near the back that Merlin can make out Gwaine's face, cast in shadow.
The barkeep barely looks up as Merlin makes his way over to the table. Gwaine's face is down-turned, uncharacteristically morose as he stares into his beer.
Merlin knocks his knuckles against the tabletop.
"Merlin?" Gwaine exclaims when he looks up, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. Again." He grins. "Can I sit?"
"Please don't tell me we have another quest. I was just about to turn in for the night. That was almost too much adventure for my blood."
"Oh, I don't believe that for a second." Merlin lowers himself onto the bench across from Gwaine. "But no, no quest."
Gwaine shrugs and leans forward, his elbows on the table. "So, you were looking for me, eh?"
Merlin bites his bottom lip and considers making up some excuse. Like Arthur wanted to tell him thank you or something. But that thought is fleeting. He doesn't know Gwaine as well as he'd like to, but he thinks he can least trust him with this bit of truth.
"Yeah, I did. It didn't feel right before, when we just left you at the border." Merlin meets Gwaine's eye after he says it, feeling nervous.
Gwaine grins wide, unabashed. "Ah, so you just want to spend time with me?"
"Maybe," Merlin shrugs, acting nonchalant even though he's relieved at Gwaine's reaction. "I've got to be back tomorrow though."
"Well then, let's make it worth your while. Next round's on me." Gwaine slaps his hand on the table, as if making it official, before he gets up to and walks towards the barkeep.
Merlin sighs. He is grateful Gwaine is making this so easy, when it could very well have been all kinds of awkward.
Gwaine brings over a pitcher of beer while his stomach flipflops wildly. He hides his nerves the best he can, with a toss of his hair and a flirty grin. He's not sure if it's landing, because Merlin just looks as smiley as he always does. Merlin gives nothing away when it comes to his personal feelings about Gwaine.
Usually he just runs into an old acquaintance at the tavern, or someone hunts him down because they want him to repay an old debt. Friends never track him down purposefully just so they can sit and talk with him.
Gwaine should not be surprised to find that Merlin makes absolutely incredible company when he's not running around stressed out in Camelot. He's charming and witty and his mouth keeps crinkling up at the corners when he's trying not to laugh. Gwaine decides he better slow down his drinking, just so he doesn't do something rash and come on to Merlin.
Merlin, for his part, picks up the slack when it comes to finishing off the pitcher. An hour into their little impromptu celebration, and Merlin has a high pink flush on his cheekbones, the color spreading down his neck all the way to his kerchief. Gwaine gets to enjoy the view as he watches Merlin swallow.
"So are there any lovely ladies waiting back in Camelot for you?" Gwaine can't help himself. In the dim light of the tavern, and with the beer buzzing in his veins, Gwaine wants to see if he can fish for gossip. Maybe find out if Merlin is otherwise promised to someone else.
Merlin's lips turn down into a slight frown. "Oh, Gwen might be worried about me, actually. I forgot to tell her where I was going."
Gwaine controls his expression as he says, "Ah, Gwen definitely qualifies as a lovely lady. But I'm sure she won't be too worried."
Merlin brightens up at that as he nods in agreement. "You're probably right."
"How's she doing, anyway?" Gwaine tries not to show how overly curious he is. Surely Merlin and Gwen aren't … together.
Merlin launches into a tale involving Gwen and Merlin secretly fixing up one of Morgana's dresses after a seamstress made a mistake before Morgana could find out, and Merlin talks with affection for Gwen evident in his voice.
Gwaine isn't sure where that leaves him. He's got no more information than he did when he started this conversation. So he changes tact and gives up on such a fruitless endeavor. Instead, he makes it his mission to make Merlin laugh, just so see the lovely way his eyes light up. His cheeks flush even pinker, and Gwaine can't take his eyes off of him.
Gwaine is usually fairly straightforward when he's interested in someone. By now he's figured out that he's definitely interested in Merlin. But Merlin hasn't given him any outward sign that he's interested back, beyond showing up at his tavern.
Once they finish the pitcher between them, Merlin yawns and rubs his eyes. It occurs to Gwaine that Merlin hasn't said anything about his sleeping arrangements.
Gwaine asks, "Where are you staying tonight?"
"Hadn't really planned that far ahead, to be honest," Merlin says, his voice steady.
"I got a room already. We can share. But I should tell you, Merlin," Gwaine leans in conspiratorially so he can whisper. "I snore."
Merlin grins and puts down his glass. "I can manage, I think."
"Shall we call it a night, then?" Gwaine starts scooping up the pitcher and his glass.
Merlin nods and picks up his glass as he stifles another huge yawn. Gwaine yawns too. Those things are contagious.
They drop the glasses off with the barkeep. Once Merlin starts up the stairs, Gwaine follows. It's not exactly intentional, but Gwaine is not complaining about the view. Some parts of Merlin seem almost delicate, like the bones in his wrist or the gentle curve of his jaw. The way his slacks pull across his arse though - Gwaine would not describe that as delicate.
Gwaine points out which room is his, and then unlocks the door with the key from his pocket. He's glad he hardly spent any time in the room, because it's still just as orderly as it was when he checked in, minus his bag that he'd thrown onto the bed.
He grabs the candle from the bedside table and lights it out in the hall with the wall sconce before he comes back in and shuts the door.
"You can have the bed, Merlin. That way, I can repay the kindness you did to me back in Camelot."
Merlin looks between Gwaine and the bed, hesitant. But then after a moment, Gwaine gestures for him to go ahead. Merlin grins gratefully and bounds over to it.
"Thanks, Gwaine. You're a real prince," he says as he lays down and spreads himself out.
That makes Gwaine guffaw. "Now I know you're just insulting me."
"I would never," Merlin teases.
Gwaine puts the candle on the bedside table. He glances over at Merlin, who is flopped down on the bed with his eyes closed already. The golden candelight falls across his face and his long lashes are almost too beautiful to look at.
Merlin opens one eye and catches Gwaine looking.
"Thanks, Gwaine. This is nice."
Gwaine nods magnanimously, and they stare at each other for a beat longer than seems appropriate. Gwaine feels goosebumps break out along his arms, and he sees Merlin glance down at his mouth. Neither of them move, and yet Gwaine's heart thunders in his chest.
The moment stretches, and Gwaine nearly walks towards the bed, but then Merlin gets up on one elbow and blows out the candle. Gwaine turns away, grabs the thick blanket off of the foot of the bed, and spreads it out on the floor. He sighs as he lays down. He's slept in much worse places. And now at least Merlin is close.
The darkness that settles over them is heavy but not uncomfortable. Gwaine's slept in Merlin's bed but somehow this seems more intimate than that. Probably because this time, Gwaine knows Merlin went out of his way to find him. And because Merlin had just been staring at him like he had more to say.
"Did you have a good time at least?" Gwaine asks after a beat, not sure if Merlin is still awake.
"I did," Merlin says softly.
"I wouldn't want you to waste your only night off."
Merlin sounds amused when he says, "Trust me Gwaine, I haven't."
Gwaine grins so hard that he's sure he'll fall asleep like that. Instead, he lays awake for far too long, his skin feeling tight as he listens to Merlin breathe.
The next morning, with the light streaming in through the single grime-covered window, Gwaine wakes up before Merlin. No doubt because Merlin is enjoying a chance to sleep in, when no morning responsibilities await him.
Gwaine quickly dashes downstairs to get mince pies for breakfast. He carefully pushes open the door when he gets back, and is glad to find Merlin still in bed. He puts the mince pies on the bedside table and sets about rolling up the blanket he'd used as a bed. Maybe he should pay for a proper bath too, but it's probably not worth the trouble if he's going to ride out of town as soon as Merlin wakes up. He'll just get all sweaty again.
Merlin starts to stir, and Gwaine eagerly sits on the edge of the bed.
"Good morning!" he says. "I brought you breakfast."
Merlin sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. His red kerchief is askew and Gwaine holds himself back from reaching over to fix it.
"You did?" Merlin sounds genuinely surprised by the gesture. "Thank you."
Gwaine's heart feels full from the appreciation in Merlin's voice.
"So you have to leave this morning?"
"I do," Merlin says before he bites into the pie.
"Then I'll ride to the border with you."
Merlin shakes his head. "You don't have to do that."
"I know, but I've got no place better to be today."
Merlin smiles, clearly pleased.
What Gwaine doesn't say is that he's not ready to leave Merlin yet. He doesn't know when he'll get to see him again. He has to take advantage of the time he has.
Gwaine thinks if Merlin hasn't caught on by now to Gwaine's keen interest in him, he might never catch on. Gwaine is being rather obvious, which is normally his style anyway. Or maybe Merlin does notice and is being polite about it, just so he doesn't have to turn Gwaine down.
Gwaine lets that thought humble him as they ride away from the tavern. It's not like Gwaine can properly court Merlin anyway, considering he can't even step foot in Camelot.
Merlin rode all the way out to see him. They spent all night together. Merlin seems happy. These are all momentous things that Gwaine will cherish. And yet, for Gwaine, it isn't nearly enough. Saying goodbye for the second time in as many days feels like a punch to the gut.
Gwaine does it with a smile plastered on his face, though. He doesn't want to make Merlin regret visiting him.
There's been no time to talk to Merlin. From the moment he sees him in Jarl's pit until they run from Morgana's army of immortal soldiers, they can't even catch a second for themselves.
Which is a damn shame, really. Gwaine had been thinking about Merlin practically non-stop ever since he left him at the border. He couldn't help but think they'd missed their chance. He wanted to do something about that. He'd had this grand plan to return to Camelot, or send a message to Merlin, maybe even give him his favor in order to make is intentions known to Merlin.
He'd been ready to at least tell him he'd missed him, and he'd been thinking about him all the time.
But those plans had been thoroughly dashed to pieces. Being in mortal danger really left no time for trifling things like love confessions.
Besides, as soon as Gwaine got to Camelot, Merlin sent him off with Gaius and Elyan to the caves. He trusts Merlin and he knows that he can take care of himself. And Gwaine also knows, although he'd never admit it, that Arthur is just as good of a fighter as he is. Merlin is well-protected.
But now, just sitting around with nothing to do feels horrible. Gwaine has never been one to sit and wait for things to happen. Barging back into Camelot when Merlin had asked him to wait is a stupid idea. He knows he'll never get past even one immortal guard.
Gwaine paces inside their hidden cave. With nothing better to do, he starts replaying the events of the last few days. Maybe there's something he missed that could help Merlin and Arthur retake Camelot. Instead of being productive, he keeps getting stuck thinking about the moment when Merlin was tending to Arthur by their hastily made camp. Arthur looked as good as dead with his leg so severely infected, but Merlin did something, whispered some secret ancient words, and Arthur had lived. Maybe Arthur really was that lucky, and he healed on his own. But now that Gwaine thinks about it, that situation seemed like a predicament only magic could have gotten them out of.
He's not particularly disturbed by the idea of Merlin using magic, though. Gwaine knows magic is banned in Camelot. That's a good enough reason for Merlin to want to keep that to himself. And Gwaine doesn't even know for sure if there was magic involved or not. Maybe Merlin had brought a really powerful potion with him. Gwaine is in no position to pry.
So he keeps on waiting with nothing to do, worrying and growing more cantankerous by the hour, until Merlin arrives at the cave.
Relief floods Gwaine when Merlin shows up. They only have time for a quick hug before Merlin begins urgently conversing with Gaius. Even though Merlin is preoccupied, and rightly so, Gwaine just wants to be supportive. Whatever it is that Merlin needs him to do, he will do.
The caves leave no room for any sort of privacy. Gaius and Arthur and Lancelot and the new guy are all practically living on top of each other, and the way Merlin is whispering to Gaius and Lancelot seems to indicate he's clearly cooking up some scheme that he doesn't feel inclined to let Gwaine in on. Gwaine would ordinarily feel annoyed at being left out, but then, everything changes.
While Merlin thought everyone was asleep, he began talking to water. Gwaine wasn't trying to intrude, but he really had to piss. And then, when he came back, he heard Merlin whispering strange, unfamiliar words, like he had in the woods. Then, his eyes flash gold briefly in the dark cave. Gwaine could have explained all of that away again, except.
The water was answering, in a woman's voice.
No mere mortal man could make water talk.
Gwaine is not afraid of magic. In all of his travels, he has seen people wield magic in good and bad ways. He believes that every person must be judged by what they do, not where they came from or who their family is. He would extend that same courtesy to any magic user.
Now it's not mere conjecture. Gwaine knows Merlin has magic. And he also knows that Merlin is purposefully trying to keep it a secret from him. He must have done something to make Merlin doubt his loyalty.
Gwaine lays in the dark and decides to say nothing. Surely Merlin would have told him if he felt safe enough to do so.
The lack of a plan and the extreme restlessness of everyone in the cave does nothing to make Gwaine feel any better about the situation.
The next night, Gwaine notices Lancelot and Merlin whispering in the dark. They are rolled towards each other, close in the fading light of the fire. Their hushed tones barely carry in the cave, and yet Gwaine can tell they're talking quickly, as if negotiating. Something is afoot, something that he doesn't get to know about.
Merlin has chosen who to trust, and it isn't Gwaine. Gwaine's chest feels tight from jealousy that he wishes he could will away.
Gwaine wouldn't dream of outing Merlin or humiliating him. But he wishes things were different. He wishes Merlin had chosen him. He knows he must keep all of this to himself, lest he accidentally put Merlin in danger.
Maybe one day he can prove to Merlin he is trustworthy. Maybe becoming a knight, and proving his valor and loyalty to Camelot, will sway Merlin. He can protect Merlin from afar, and he can leave him be, and maybe one day Merlin will want to talk to him about his most precious secret.
Gwaine desperately hopes he gets his chance to prove himself.
Merlin didn't mean to break the Fisher King's hour glass, but now that he has, panic wells up inside him, threatening to choke him. He dumbly pushes his fingers through the water, trying to save it from being lost forever. This hour glass was his last hope, and he feels tears prick his eyes as he can do nothing but watch the water slip over a smooth rock.
Then, it shimmers unnaturally and Merlin steals himself. He has no idea what's about to happen, but he's very aware that he's not alone in the cave. He quickly glances around, but it appears that everyone is asleep.
When Freya appears, Merlin gasps.
Hope blooms anew, and the tears in Merlin's eyes are happy tears as he talks to her. She talks back. It's really her! And she has valuable information for him, a quest he never would have thought of on his own.
He's interrupted when he feels eyes on him in the dark. He turns, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he frantically thinks up some excuse. It turns out it's Gwaine. In a concerned tone, he asks him if anything is wrong, and Merlin feels tense all over. He nearly can't breathe when he answers with his silly excuse. But Gwaine doesn't push.
When Merlin turns back, Freya is gone, and Merlin is nearly overwhelmed with the loneliness that settles over him like a thick blanket.
For a brief moment, he had someone to talk to without fear. Freya never judged him, and always accepted every part of him. He wishes desperately to see her face again, just for a moment.
As he stares at the completely ordinary puddle of water, he mourns the life he could have if everyone knew he had magic. If people would accept him for his secret. He knows it's a stupid thought, but he allows himself a moment of weakness.
He glances over at Gwaine, who appears to have gone back to sleep. He's laying on his back with his arm behind his head, his eyes closed.
Merlin sighs. It would seem that Gwaine hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. He's mostly relieved, but he's also a little disappointed. It would make it so much easier if Gwaine just … found out. Then Merlin wouldn't have to agonize over the decision about whether to tell him his secret.
He's thought about it before, of course. Gwaine is trustworthy, and loyal, and Merlin wants to trust him completely. But Merlin doesn't want to put Gwaine in the awkward position of having to lie for him. It's just not fair to Gwaine.
Even if Merlin wanted to change his mind, he knows he can't. There is no way to get any semblance of privacy in the cave. He hasn't even dared talk to Lancelot in case someone overhears them.
Merlin isn't stuck in his loneliness for long, as Lancelot finds an opportune moment to whisper to him in the dark. He knows more about Merlin than anyone else beyond Gaius. He is the perfect person to lean on, and Merlin should have relied on him sooner. His friendship gives Merlin hope. And if anything were to happen, Merlin is able to protect Lancelot without having to hide his magic. When Lancelot stays by his side, and even rides back into danger with Merlin, he wonders again if telling Gwaine is the right thing to do.
Except Lancelot dies on the Isle of the Blessed, and it changes everything.
Lancelot would never have known to take such action, and indeed would never have made such a choice at all, if he didn't know about Merlin's magic. He wouldn't have even been present at the Isle of the Blessed. Merlin knows Lancelot would not want him to feel responsible, but he does. He has to carry that guilt with him forever, and a hollow put opens up in his gut that he doubts will ever go away.
Harm befalls those that know his secret, that much is clear. It is better if he tell no one. He must protect them in shadow, best he can. He must not tell Gwaine, most of all. He can't take that chance with Gwaine's life.
Things are simpler now that Gwaine has become a knight. Merlin doesn't have to agonize over whether to tell Gwaine about his personal feelings. There is no reason to pursue something that cannot happen, or distract him from his duty to Camelot. Merlin knows that their duty to Camelot comes first, above all else.
Sometimes he notices Gwaine looking at him across the practice field, or across Arthur's round table. Merlin meets his gaze, and likes to catch Gwaine looking at him. It makes him feel special, somehow. But that is all Merlin will permit himself to do. Merlin has no choice to make. The only answer is to keep Gwaine a safe distance away.
That safety is shattered when Morgana declares war on them all. Merlin can think of nothing except Camlann once the word leaves Arthur's lips.
It would seem that Morgana is one step ahead of him, because not soon after that, Merlin loses his powers. He could weep from the way it feels to be separated from the very essence of what makes him himself.
Arthur is headed to his doom, and it kills Merlin to leave just as he's preparing to leave for battle. But leave he must. It's the only way to even the odds, to have any chance of beating her for good. But knows he cannot go alone, not without his magic. When he thinks about who should accompany him to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, only one man comes to mind. One man that he trusts with his life. One man that has never asked anything of him, but has instead been true to him without ever expecting anything in return.
Merlin bursts into Gwaine's chambers and doesn't bother searching for the right words. He knows that with Gwaine, he can be straightforward.
"Gwaine, I need to ask you for a favor. And it's going to sound crazy," Merlin blurts out.
"For you, anything," Gwaine says with a smile so sincere that Merlin's heart constricts.
Merlin blows out a breath and starts to pace across the wood floor in front of Gwaine's bed. Gwaine runs a hand through his long hair and sits down on the edge of his mattress.
"It must be serious if you're worked up like this," Gwaine teases.
Merlin bites his lip before he meets Gwaine's gaze. "It is deadly serious, I'm afraid."
Gwaine's smile shrinks as a serious expression settles on his face.
"Okay, then."
Merlin keeps pacing as he speaks. "I need someone to accompany me to the Valley of the Fallen Kings. There could be bandits or Morgana's troops along the way. You can't ask me any questions, and we have to leave by nightfall."
Gwaine cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, is that all?"
His tone is light and the corner of his mouth curls into a smile again. He's clearly teasing.
"I'm serious, Gwaine. I have to do this. I could really use your help."
"Why me?"
Merlin stops pacing, just because the question catches him off guard.
"Because you're the bravest knight I know," Merlin answers sincerely as he takes a knee in front of Gwaine. Merlin feels almost ready to beg. He won't find the courage to leave Camelot in its darkest hour without Gwaine by his side. "And I trust you."
Gwaine's eyes crinkle at the corners before his gaze is drawn to Merlin's mouth. His right hand raises from his leg, as if he's going to reach out and touch, but then he stops.
"I know you said no questions, but does Arthur know?"
Merlin briefly debates what to say. He does not want to make Gwaine have to lie for him.
"Would it change your answer either way?"
Gwaine only hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head. "I guess not. Let me pack a few things."
"So you'll go with me?"
"Of course," Gwaine says, like that much is obvious.
Merlin jumps up from his place on the floor and throws his arms around Gwaine. He's humbled by and grateful for Gwaine's loyalty. Gwaine laughs into his hair, and hugs him back.
"If you're asking, I know it must be important," Gwaine says softly.
Merlin murmurs his thanks before he rushes out of the room. He has to ready the horses. He fears that he cannot look at Gwaine any longer without saying something entirely too emotional. This moment requires his clarity of mind and steadfast determination, and he has no time for sentimentality. Arthur's life and the future of Camelot depends on this mission.
He and Gwaine ride out of Camelot and into the forest at breakneck speed. It doesn't take long for the neck of his horse to be visibly shiny with sweat. They can't talk over the twin clatter of hooves, but Merlin is thankful for that. There is nothing left to say. He can only hope that this feeble plan will work.
Once at the Crystal Cave, he steals himself before he has to say goodbye. Merlin's fingers itch to reach out and touch. He thinks of kissing Gwaine, entertaining the notion only briefly. He nearly laughs at himself. It's been so long since he'd indulged in such fantasies, and now was certainly not the time.
But when Gwaine hands him his sword, tears nearly well up in Merlin's eyes. It all seems too much, too serious. Gwaine doesn't ask any questions, but Merlin gets the sense that Gwaine knows the importance of this moment.
Merlin has to look away and get back to business, for the sake of Camelot. So he doesn't kiss Gwaine, even though he longs for that type of physical intimacy. He contents himself with one last, long look.
He doesn't know that when he says goodbye, he won't see Gwaine for many, many years.
Gwaine is looking out his window, gazing down at the palace courtyard, at the people dashing back and forth with baskets and carts and bags. They are preparing for battle, just as he had been. He's already done checking his armor and sharpening his sword. There is nothing left for him to prepare, except his mind. He hates this part, because it means that he can only wait for action to begin. The cards will fall how they ought to, though, he must believe that.
He doesn't know when he will be back in his room again, so he looks around and takes a deep, steadying breathe. He fights for himself, yes. But he fights also for Camelot, and for all of the people down in that courtyard. They give him strength without even knowing it.
Just then his door bursts open, and Merlin strides in with a determined look on his face. Gwaine can already tell he's got something to ask, even before he speaks.
"Gwaine, I need to ask you for a favor. And it's going to sound crazy."
Looking at Merlin know, his mouth set in a grim line, Gwaine feels real fear about the future for the first time. He might not know Merlin as well as he'd like to, but he knows him well enough. Something has happened.
"For you, anything."
And it's not a platitude. Gwaine's loyalty has never been divided. To be loyal to Merlin is to be loyal to Camelot, because Gwaine knows that Merlin's magic has guided and protected Arthur's reign. Even if Arthur himself cannot see it, Gwaine can. So if Merlin is asking for a favor now, on the eve of battle, he knows it must be for the sake of Camelot's survival.
Merlin's pacing is making Gwaine nervous, though. He sits on the bed, just to try to get Merlin to stop. Then he tries to tease him to lighten the mood. Merlin is having none of it, but that tells Gwaine the situation is more dire than he'd anticipated. When he says they must ride off immediately, Gwaine is accepting. He'd hated waiting around, anyway.
He does want to know something, though. After all this time, he had figured he and Merlin were growing apart. There were plenty of knights for Merlin to choose from to accompany him on this mission. The knights are smart enough to realize that Merlin does Arthur's bidding, so they all obey Merlin too. Merlin could have asked anyone else, and yet he still walked all the way to Gwaine's chambers.
"Why me?"
Merlin stops moving, and meets Gwaine's gaze. He sinks to one knee, as if laying himself at Gwaine's feet and Gwaine's mercy. Old emotions bloom in Gwaine's heart, feelings he thought had long expired.
"Because you're the bravest knight I know. And I trust you."
The words please him, even though he knows they are not true. Not completely, anyway. Otherwise, Merlin would have told him about his magic. Merlin's gaze is steady and sure, his lips slightly parted, and Gwaine briefly entertains telling Merlin that he knows. He knows, and he doesn't care, and he thinks Merlin is the best of them all for all that he's done.
He lifts up his arm, reaching for Merlin, only to stop himself. They have a mission to complete, and by the looks of it, no time to waste.
Then it occurs to Gwaine that maybe Arthur doesn't know about what they're doing at all. Arthur isn't aware of Merlin's magic, otherwise Merlin wouldn't have made such an effort to conceal his secret. A small, selfish part of him wants to know if Merlin is asking for his help in defiance of Arthur. And if they are doing this without Arthur's permission, it must involve magic somehow.
"I know you said no questions, but does Arthur know?" Gwaine asks.
"Would it change your answer either way?"
That is answer enough. This is another secret, then. Gwaine can't help but feel privileged. Where before he wondered why Merlin chose him, now he knows it was not just because of his skills as a knight. It is because Merlin does trust Gwaine, at least with a trip that could be integral to the future of Camelot. A trip that Merlin can't even tell Arthur about.
"I guess not. Let me pack a few things," Gwaine says. He's grateful he already put his battle kit together. He'll be ready in minutes. He hasn't yet said goodbye to Eira, though. He figures he owes her that much, even if he doesn't want to leave Merlin's side when he looks so keen to leave.
Merlin looks up at him, the admiration plain on his face. "So you'll go with me?"
"Of course."
Merlin rises from the floor, and Gwaine is ready with open arms. A hug is such a simple thing, and yet it lifts Gwaine's spirits immensely. They are still a team, and they still care about each other. The simple joy of holding Merlin in his arms causes a huff of laughter to bubble up out of his throat and into Merlin's hair.
When Merlin readies to leave, Gwaine can't help but say something else. He wants Merlin to know he'd ride out at Merlin's request no matter the cost. Because he still loves him.
Instead he says, "If you're asking, I know it must be important."
He hopes Merlin can feel the gravity with which Gwaine speaks. Because Gwaine knows full well that they might never return to the castle.
When Merlin says that Gwaine must leave him at the crystal caves, Gwaine does the only thing he knows to do. He gives Merlin his sword, the symbol of his strength and the source of his pride as a knight. It's a bigger gesture than tying his favor around Merlin's wrist.
Whatever it is that he must do, he must do it alone, without a non-magic user like Gwaine. So Gwaine accepts that he is needed elsewhere. Gwaine has to trust Merlin and his magic, just as he's done many times before.
He clasps Merlin's hand, not bothering to hide the devotion from his eyes.
Looking back on that moment, Gwaine wishes he'd said more. He stews on it until he throws himself into battle, able to empty his mind and focus only on the clashing of metal against metal, of bodies against bodies.
And then after, when he survives, his anger threatens to overwhelm him. His anger at Morgana, for sending Eira to betray him. His anger at Gaius, for returning without Merlin alive. And his anger at Arthur, for getting himself hurt and forcing Merlin to rescue him.
So many are dead, and Gwaine saw the bloodshed with his own eyes. He doesn't bear the burden of guilt of well. Merlin nor Arthur are there to talk sense into him. And if he's honest, he felt abandoned and lost. The darkness shrouding his heart doesn't dissipate, and he gets too desperate to think straight. That is why he goes after Morgana. Maybe he can avenge Camelot himself.
The snake that Morgana sets on him doesn't offer him absolution. Only more pain and suffering. You have always been a fool, a small voice in his head says. He can't tell if it's Morgana or himself speaking. He doesn't even recognize his own voice when Morgana pulls the truth from him.
After, he cannot withstand his own betrayal and his feeble body collapses against his bindings. When Morgana leaves, he tries to focus on Percival's gaze, but he can't.
He only hopes Merlin can forgive him.
Gwaine wakes up and can't breathe. It takes effort to blink, and it takes him a few more seconds after that to realize he's underwater. He spins around, trying to orient himself. There's just murky green water, too dark below him to see how deep it goes. He spins again and sees light. He kicks out and up, heading towards the light. He has to get to the surface before he can think about anything else, so he focuses on getting into a steady rhythm with each stroke. The light becomes brighter and brighter until he reaches the surface and bursts up out of the water.
He gasps, dragging in a breathe, and his lungs feel like they're burning. The sun is so bright that it takes a minute for his eyes to adjust. He treads water and looks down at himself. His armor is gone, and he's wearing a simple red tunic and pants, which are soaking wet and clinging to his body. When last he was awake, he was tied between two poles with his armor still on, as Percival screamed his name, so waking up underwater makes no sense.
But then he remembers that Morgana was torturing him. He turns around in the water, searching for her, as dread spikes through him and makes his stomach drop. Perhaps this is another illusion.
In the distance, he can see a sandy shore. There's a man sitting on the beach with nearly white hair, but Gwaine is not close enough to be able to tell who it is. It's definitely not Morgana, though. Gwaine slaps the water in relief and starts to paddle towards the man, eager to figure out where he is. Maybe this man has answers for him.
The man is wearing strange clothes. It looks like he has some kind of jacket on, but Gwaine doesn't recognize the fabric. His pants are dark blue, but they look stiff and unfamiliar. He doesn't appear to be from Camelot.
Soon, Gwaine's toes brush wet sand, and he realizes the lake has gotten shallow enough for him to stand up. He does so, eager to approach the man, desperately hoping he is friendly instead of a foe. As he walks, the man's facial features become evident. Gwaine stops and gasps. Even though the man's eyes are closed, Gwaine would recognize that face anywhere.
His second chance is sitting on the shore.
"Oh, it's you." The words fall from Gwaine's lips, as he looks on in amazement.
Merlin finally opens his eyes and looks up, meeting Gwaine's gaze. At the sight of his peircing blue eyes, electricity zips through Gwaine's veins. It really is Merlin, albeit much older than when Gwaine last saw him. Gwaine does not know how Merlin ended up here, but it would seem that he has been waiting for him. A gentle smile graces Merlin's lips as Gwaine begins to walk again, his heart hammering in his chest. He's never felt so alive.
"Of course it's me. What took you so long?"
Merlin never considered how lonely immortality would be. He's been keeping up with the times. He even got a cell phone and a computer. He's kept his house forever, so he never really needed to have the money that a steady job provides. But at this point he keeps a job just to pass the time, and pay for a second flat in the city. He likes his flat in town, it allows him to see normal people and interact with them. He doesn't really feel settled anywhere, though. He hasn't felt at home since Gwen passed away.
He has an apprentice, a magic user who connected with him online of all places. Now they practice magic every week, and Merlin thinks of Gaius often. But he hasn't known her long enough to feel truly connected to her. It's not her fault. After he's been alive several lifetimes, a few years hardly feels like much time at all.
He still ventures out to the Isle of the Blessed every so often, just to make sure if anyone comes back to the present, anyone he knows, he can greet them. He still holds out hope that he will be needed again. He often wonders if Morgana will make an appearance, too. He hasn't decided yet what he'll do if he sees her.
On a bright but otherwise ordinary day, Merlin makes his weekly pilgrimage. When he arrives, he puts his wooden staff down against a rock and sits down on the sandy shore. It's comforting to hear the waves gently lapping against the beach, and to see the that the Isle of the Blessed still stands tall in the distance. Time goes on, but it seems to leave this little patch of magic alone. Merlin closes his eyes and breathes in deep.
He can feel something change, something subtle. Perhaps the wind changed direction. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He's felt this tingle before, in this place, as if he's not alone. That's because magic is a living, breathing thing, and in this place, magic is all around. It doesn't necessarily mean anything more than that.
So Merlin doesn't open his eyes right away. He's not expecting anyone.
Then he hears a splash. Something has disturbed the water.
He can feel him before he sees him. His presence is comforting, like he was always meant to appear. Merlin cracks one eye open, and grins slowly.
Gwaine is walking toward the shore. He looks just as he did when Merlin last saw him, except he's wearing a tunic and pants instead of his armor.
"Oh, it's you," Gwaine says, easy as breathing. He tosses his shaggy hair out of his eyes. His red tunic is soaking wet and clings to his chest. At first, Merlin thinks he isn't real, just a mirage conjured up by his mind because he has imagined a moment like this many times.
"Of course it's me," Merlin says. He pushes a hand into the coarse sand of the beach and rises up onto his feet. "What took you so long?"
Gwaine laughs. "What do you mean? I blinked, and then I was swimming for my life towards the surface."
Merlin had wondered if those waiting at the Isle of the Blessed would feel time passing. Merlin is glad Gwaine has not felt trapped. "That's for the best, really. I'll have to fill you in. It's been ages."
Gwaine reaches for Merlin and gathers him into his arms. Merlin goes willingly, even though he can feel the lake water of Gwaine's shirt pressing against Merlin's chest. Gwaine's arms feel solid against Merlin and he presses his nose into Gwaine's neck. He smells like sweat and lake water. It's really him and he's alive. Tears prick Merlin's eyes. He's waited so damn long for this.
"I'm glad you came back to me," Merlin breathes, trying not to feel overwhelmed.
Gwaine pulls back and then presses a kiss to Merlin's lips. They're plush and warm against Merlin's mouth, and they breathe together. Merlin should have known they would fit together so seamlessly, as if they were always meant to end up here.
"You really are magical," Gwaine says reverently against his mouth. "Did you bring me here?"
Merlin huffs a laugh with eyes wide, amused at the way Gwaine chose to admit he knows about Merlin's magic. "I should have known you figured it out. But no, I think the lake brought you to me."
Gwaine rests his forehead against Merlin's. He looks like he's in a dream, his eyes glazed and his mouth shiny from kissing.
"Shall we wait in case the others come?" Gwaine says quietly as he wraps his fingers possessively around Merlin's hips.
"Sure," Merlin agrees, his heart pounding in his chest. He's not sure if anyone else will arrive. But with Gwaine here, holding him, already knowing about his magic, he feels settled. Finally.
/fin.