Gwain doesn't know why he is doing this. No, scratch that. That would be a lie. He does know why, he just doesn't know or understand why he doesn't stop himself.

Merlin had been beside himself these past few days. First, because of his apparent quarrel with Lancelot, and now because of Gaius's sudden disappearance.

He'd marched into the physician's chambers, hoping to check up on the man, maybe offer himself as an aid in whatever endeavor the young servant was facing.

However, as he got there, he couldn't help but hesitate.

He listened from his place of hiding behind the door, to Lancelot and Merlin's conversation. Even in the midst of whatever argument they had going on, the two men were still as thick as thieves.

They were hunched over the desk, looking at something together, whispering careful plans to each other. He could see the remnants of tension hanging in the air between them, however, it seemed that Gaius's disappearing was more essential than whatever disagreement they'd had.

Despite the urge to join them, something inside of him called for his body to remain where it was. Silently looking on as both men suddenly got to their feet and rushed to the exit. Following close behind he made sure to stay hidden as they mounted their horses and rode off out of the gate. He too, didn't waste a second before riding off with his own trusted steed.

If Merlin truly was right, and Gwaine learned long ago that it was usually the case, then Gaius really had been kidnapped, and so, they would need backup. However, if by some kind of strange, inconceivable turn of events, Gaius turned out to really be a traitor, then Gwaine would also be there to hopefully pick up the pieces left behind. Merlin was, after all, one of his closest friends.

His very first friend.

And so he followed, never losing their trail as they made their way into a gloomy cave he now recognized as the Ridge of Chemary, a point of rest they had taken once on his patrols with the knights.

Although, he doesn't remember it being so gloomy.

The air in the cave was thick and dusty, a dryness seemed to stick to the walls and the earth beneath his feet, making the oxygen itself feel heavy. He watched equally as quiet and hidden as the duo fought against a couple of armed brutes and then split up. With little hesitation, he followed Merlin through a couple more winding turns down the cavern, trusting Lancelot to take care of himself on his own.

What he doesn't expect, however, is for Morgana herself to suddenly appear in front of them.

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The hidden cave was a hollow maw, its walls bathed in the eerie glow of the dim torches lining the rough-hewn stone. Gwaine crouched in the shadows, his heart pounding with every pulse of the dark magic coursing through Morgana's fingertips. He knew little of magic, but the malevolence he felt emanating from her was undeniable.

Merlin, the boy he'd shared countless tales, laughter, and battles with, now stood at the heart of this ominous encounter. He was no longer the jovial, bumbling servant but a figure of resolute determination. His eyes, once pools of deep blue with hidden mirth, now gleamed with fierce intent.

"When will you stop being a thorn in my side, Merlin." She spat his name as if it were a curse. "I will enjoy finally getting rid of you once and for all."

Gwaine could barely comprehend the sight before him as he watched Morgana's wickedness unfold. His first instinct was to lunge forward, to defend his friend. Yet, he hesitated, feeling that somehow, he'd only make it worse by interfering. Fingers clenching around his sword, he decided that for once, he wouldn't act rashly.

It was a disorienting moment, torn between loyalty to his friend and the imperative need to act.

Just as he prepared to intervene, the cave seemed to hold its breath, and a voice pierced the chilling silence.

"Morgana." A bald man stepped into view, robes swishing with his movements as he approached the pair.

"Ah, Alator. Have you met Merlin?" Morgana cooed darkly, the knife she'd been levitating, floating closer to the servant's neck, and emphasizing its threat. If Gwaine acted too rashly, she would only have to move a finger in order to kill Merlin.

The man's eyes seemed to widen almost imperceptibly at the boy's name, his gaze turning hard as he regarded him in a new light. "I don't believe so, no." He said carefully, fingers clenching around his staff. Gwaine couldn't quite explain the man's reaction, however, it really wasn't on the top of his priority list at the moment.

"He's just a serving boy, but he's one of the most troublesome people I've ever had the displeasure to meet." She continued, oblivious to the dark eyes watching her.

"I have completed my task, my lady." He declared, eyes never straying from Merlin's form. "Gaius has told me everything."

"You know who Emrys is." Gwain shivered at the eerie excitement in her tone.

"Indeed," Alator whispered, crouching over Merlin's fallen form, the latter, scooting away, panic now bathing in his eyes. Whatever information this man had gotten out of Gaius, Gwaine surmised, it was really important to Merlin. Just who was this Emrys, they were all talking about? "In fact I know exactly where he is right in this moment." He continued darkly.

"Tell me." Morgana ordered, a manic grin etched into her features, twisting her face into something ugly and deranged.

What happened next was entirely unexpected.

"Never." Gwaine's breath caught in his throat as he watched Alator's defiance, an act of treason against a woman of formidable power.

The cave seemed to tremble, the air heavy with tension. Morgana's dark magic ebbed and waned as if the very walls of the cave were recoiling from the confrontation. Her form crumbled against the wall with a thud, Alator's magic having knocked her clean off her feet. Gwaine's heart pounded in his chest.

As the dust settled, Alator turned his attention to Merlin, their whispered conversation now taking place in the eerie stillness of the cave. Gwaine strained to hear their words, sensing that a pivotal moment was unfolding before him.

"Emrys," Alator began, somehow, to Gwaine's eternal surprise, he was addressing Merlin. "I am Alator of the Catha." The man introduced, his voice ringing, as if ricocheting off the walls themselves. "I have known the agony of living in fear, of hiding who I am, of being hunted and persecuted throughout the five kingdoms." He had magic. what- "Gaius told me of your power, Merlin. Of your great destiny, and I, and countless others like me have only dreamt of the world you seek to build." Gwaine could only watch with rising confusion and a feeling of something so very close to betrayal as watched the scene before him unfold. "And we would gladly give our lives to help you reach it." He finished, posture screaming resolution and commitment. And to Gwaine's further astonishment, the man dropped down to his knees and bowed. Head hung as if prostration to a king. A leader.

The air felt charged with something indescribable. As if the world itself was holding its breath in this fundamental moment in history.

Merlin's eyes met Alator's, and a flicker of acknowledgment passed between them, and Gwaine waited uselessly for him to speak up. To deny these absurd allegations, and yet. And yet, Gwaine remained an unseen observer in a world that had unveiled its deepest, most profound secrets. The cave seemed to pulse with the unspoken connection between the two men.

Still kneeling before Merlin, Alator swore, "Emrys, I and all my followers, henceforth pledge our loyalty to your cause. I will serve you until my dying breath, this I swear upon the magic that courses through my veins."

Emrys, Emrys, Emrys, he called him again. Just what has Merlin been hiding? How many secrets has he been keeping?

Gwaine, though bewildered and overwhelmed by the gravity of the moment, couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect for the bond that had just been forged. The revelations in the cave were far beyond his understanding, but he knew he had witnessed something of immense importance.

He watched silently as they both left the cave, hand flexing around the handle of his sword, mind, and body warring with each other. He was a knight, he served his kingdom. A kingdom in which magic was outlawed. And yet Merlin, sweet, kind Merlin had magic. Would that mean that he was honor and duty-bound to turn him in? To betray the precious friendship he had come to cherish in the name of duty, of loyalty? But what of his loyalty to Merlin? What of Merlin's loyalty to him? Was their friendship so insignificant to the other man, that he would hide his very self from everyone?

He carried with him the weight of newfound knowledge like a dragging chain. His mind spun in a whirlwind of emotions. His friend, the boy he had come to think of as his brother, had been living a double life. He had been Emrys, some kind of legendary figure, one who supported magic and apparently had magic himself.

In Gwaine's heart, pride mingled with betrayal, awe with fear. Merlin had carried this immense secret for years, and he had never faltered in his loyalty, he knew he hadn't. Merlin was the most loyal person he knew. He would never betray Arthur, or Camelot, would he? The depth of their friendship, the bond they had forged on the battlefield and around the campfire, shook within his own warring thoughts.

As Gwaine emerged from his hiding place, his steps were heavy, his thoughts turbulent. He wanted to confront Merlin, to demand an explanation, to make sense of the shattered perception he had of his friend. But he also knew that trust was a fragile thing, and sometimes, it required time and patience to heal the wounds inflicted by revelation.

With each step he took away from the cave, he felt the weight of the information he just acquired getting heavier and heavier. Was he supposed to tell Arthur? His king? Was he to betray the trust of his closest comrade and friend out of loyalty to his kingdom and its laws?

Magic was outlawed under the penalty of death, what was Merlin even thinking coming here? What was he thinking ever learning magic in the first place?

Did his having magic change him somehow? Did Gwaine know anything about him at all?

So many questions, so many thoughts, and doubts pooled in his mind, drowning out the world around him. He reminded himself of all the hardships he'd faced with Merlin at his side. Of all the trials and the fights and the laughs. Merlin could never be evil. That he knew for sure.

Even so, it didn't erase the sense of betrayal he felt snaking in his chest. But the more he thought about it, the more things started to make sense. All those times something had gone so wrong for their opponents mid-battle, as if luck itself was on their side.

That time at the bridge, Strength, courage, and magic, the bantam man had said. Gwaine had the sudden urge to laugh uncontrollably, and maybe cry just a little.

No, he couldn't tell Arthur, not without knowing the entire truth, at least. For now, as he made his way back to the castle, he promised to keep this secret close to his chest. He would watch, he would observe and learn with his own eyes.

And maybe, in time, his friend would decide to confide in him of his own will. Only then, would Gwaine really know what dwelled in his heart.

______________________________

Arthur's heart raced as he stood in the courtyard, surrounded by his loyal knights. The urgency in the air was palpable, an unsettling tension that hinted at impending danger. He scanned the faces of his men, their steely determination reflecting his own.

Merlin and Lancelot approached, their expressions mirroring the gravity of the situation. Arthur acknowledged them with a nod, their presence a reassurance amidst the turmoil threatening Camelot. His mind, however, remained preoccupied with the figure huddled onto the horse next to them. To his growing surprise, his uncle was riding right alongside them.

The events of the past days had been tumultuous. Gaius's sudden disappearance had set off a chain of events that had deeply troubled him. His trusted advisor's absence had left a void, and Arthur's worry for the old physician weighed heavily on him.

His breath hitched as the figure was lifted off the horse, supported by multiple knights, the hood he was wearing falling back to reveal Gaius, battered but alive. Relief flooded through Arthur, a surge of emotion momentarily overwhelming his usual composure. The sight of his mentor returned from apparent captivity, was a balm to his troubled soul. Guilt snaked into his heart right alongside the relief.

Gaius was ushered forward, and Arthur rushed to meet him, concern etched on his features. "Gaius! What happened? Are you hurt?" His voice carried a mix of relief and worry as he steadied the older man, assessing his condition.

"I am as well as I can be given the circumstances, Sire," Gaius spoke curtly, his voice weary yet steady. "It was Morgana, she sought information, but I revealed nothing." His gaze flickered towards Merlin briefly, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Arthur's gaze darted to Merlin, his loyal servant. He saw a mixture of emotions flit across Merlin's face - relief, concern, and a hint of something else, something concealed beneath the surface. Arthur's instincts told him there was more to this story, something unsaid, but the urgency of the situation demanded his immediate attention.

Despite his desire to delve into the details, Arthur prioritized securing Camelot. "Lancelot I expect a report of tonight's events soon, Merlin, please take care of our physician." He commanded, eyes soft despite the firmness of his voice and authority. There would be time for explanations later, but in that moment, Gaius's comfort took precedence.

_________________________

Later that night, as the moon hung high in the indigo sky, casting its silvery glow upon the cobblestone paths of Camelot. Arthur stood amidst the castle's quiet corridors, the flickering torches casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. His thoughts echoed louder than the stillness around him.

In the quiet alcove in front of the physician's chambers, Arthur steeled himself for the conversation to come. His keen blue eyes, pools of tempered steel, swept over his companions as he finally entered the room, silence immediately overtaking the conversation the two men had been previously having.

Merlin stood before him, his countenance a tapestry of emotions hidden behind a façade of feigned composure. There was a flicker of unease in the depths of his gaze, a shadow of something held back, shielded by a mask of practiced nonchalance. Yet, Arthur sensed an unwavering loyalty that lay nestled deep within the tumult of his servant's emotions. Anger, he assumed, given that Arthur hadn't believed him when he'd tried to plead Gaius's case. Arthur's fingers clenched repeatedly at the reminder of his own shortcomings. Merlin was his friend, he should have taken his words more seriously. He should have believed him.

Gaius was a solemn figure, lying on the patient's bed, looking older than the king had ever seen him to be. Weary and tired despite the gleam of acceptance in his kind eyes.

The air seemed thick with unspoken words, a palpable tension that bound the trio in a web of unacknowledged truths. Arthur's thoughts danced between suspicion and trust, a delicate balance teetering on the edge of revelation.

Words hung on the tip of his tongue, poised to unravel the mysteries that enveloped them. Yet, the king remained silent, his regal bearing a cloak masking the turmoil that churned within.

As the torches flickered, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow, Arthur finally spoke up. "Gaius, Merlin," He greeted respectively, arms falling helplessly at his sides. "I hope you are feeling better. I-" He faltered." I came to apologize." His eyes flickered between Merlin's severe stare and Gaius's tired eyes. "To both of you. I should have never doubted your loyalties Gaius. You have served me, my father, and our Kingdom for years, you're allegiance should have never come into question. I promise you, upon my honor, it will not happen again."

Merlin's head turned to look at his mentor, leaving the answer up to him. Gaius's voice was soft but serious as he responded. "Sire, Arthur." He began, "I have known you and taken care of you ever since you were nothing more than a babe. You should have known that I would never betray you." He held up a trembling hand, halting Arthur's words before they could spill out of his mouth. The king swallowed nervously, steeling himself for the older man's next words. "You should stop listening to other people's paranoia and start listening to your heart Arthur. Some-" And he paused there, his voice failing him as his eyes searched, if only for a second, his own ward, still standing quietly behind Arthur. "Some of us would sacrifice our very being in order to protect you and the kingdom you rule, my boy. One day, you will learn just how much they have done for you."

The king absorbed Gaius's words, the weight of their meaning settling upon him. The mentor's guidance offered solace amid his turmoil, a beacon of wisdom in a sea of unspoken confidences.

As Arthur bid Gaius and Merlin goodnight, shooting his servant a long, meaningful look, a sense of purpose ignited within him. These past few day's events had offered a path amidst the labyrinth of uncertainty. He would tread cautiously, seeking the truths that lay concealed without risking the bonds of loyalty and trust that tethered them together in the intricate tapestry of Camelot's fate.

Arthur wouldn't question his instincts again. No matter what, or who, urged him to do so. He would listen to his gut, to his heart. He would listen to his friends.