First Merlin Fic, response to the 'Gwaine and the Necklace' challenge by Mrs. Bonner. First challenge fic, actually :) Now, I know Gwaine's grammar is less than impeccable, but it's Gwaine and he's sort of halfway drunk. Anyhow, enjoy, and please remember to leave a SIGNED REVIEW if you like it enough that you think I might just win! (unlikely, but it's a nice thought)

No one asked about it. It was clearly something important, as he was never without it, but they never asked, not even Merlin. Just as no one ever asked why he wore a neckerchief, it just was. Thinking of either Merlin or Gwaine without their adornments was preposterous, unnatural even, so much so that no one ever wondered why they wore them in the first place.

Merlin couldn't shake the feeling that if he asked, Gwaine would not answer.

One day on patrol, however, they came across some bandits. It wasn't anything serious, the knights mostly handled themselves, but then… Merlin wasn't sure exactly what happened, only that Gwaine suddenly started mercilessly cutting down any who crossed blades with him, before falling to his knees and frantically scrabbling about on the ground. It didn't take a genius to realise something was wrong (which was good because those were few and far between in Camelot, and seemingly mostly in hiding), but it took Elyan asking to put two and two together.

"It's gone!" Gwaine cried, "Those bastards broke the chain and I dropped it and now I can't find it!" He sounded as though he had just admitted to murdering a five year old by accident, he was so distraught.

Merlin didn't ask, and neither did anyone else. After a good twenty minutes of searching, Arthur suggested they leave it, or try again some other time. This turned out to be his biggest blunder since nearly bringing war on Camelot courtesy of Queen Annis (not counting the taboo Guinevere and Lancelot incident). Gwaine had screamed that he was not leaving either the pendant or the ring, ever, under any circumstances, and it was only Leon's swift reflexes that saved the king from a broken nose, but he wasn't quite strong enough to prevent a nasty bruise.

Percival found them not long after, mercy be, and Gwaine— after checking extensively for damage other than one broken link in the chain— wrapped his arms around the large man as best he could in a heartfelt embrace (it was this that softened Arthur's heart and prevented punishment more severe than a telling off). Elyan offered to make a new link with which to fix the chain, promising it would be good as new, and Gwaine's displays of gratitude shifted onto him.

This was what brought Merlin to where he was now (in Gwaine's room on his bed, reminiscent of that first time involving a bill he couldn't pay and four dozen pickled eggs). He'd spent the past week listening to and discrediting various theories about the pendant and ring, and trying to get Gwaine in a position where he might be willing to reveal a secret or two at the behest of Arthur and the knights. The common-but-not knight had gotten a bit drunker that normal today, ecstatic that Merlin was paying a bit more attention to him now, which made Merlin feel guilty— he was Gwaine's first friend, as far as he knew, and he hadn't been a very good friend recently, even now only spending more time with him to try and figure out the pendant. He vowed to be a better one from here on out, starting with sticking up for Gwaine when the other knights teased him. Still, Gwaine had pretty much invited Merlin to ask whatever he wanted, as long as he got to ask something in return, which the secret warlock hadn't had the heart to deny.

"So… do you mind telling me a little about your necklace?" Hang on, what? He hadn't meant to call it a necklace; he blamed Elyan for weaving that fantastic story about a lost lover.

Gwaine hesitated, intoxicated smile falling, countenance sobering considerably. Then he looked Merlin in the eye with that frightening intensity the manservant had only seen a handful of times before, briefly, which always made shivers run down his spine and only seemed to break through when Gwaine was under the influence (whether it be alcohol or magic such as the Lamia's— why else would he not be bothered by a threatening Percival but be unable to even look at Gwaine?). "Just 'cause it's you." There was also an underlying hint of and because it's nice to have someone I trust enough to tell, but Merlin didn't comment on it.

"The pendant was my father's. His name was Gaheris, and his house insignia's on the inside. See?" He turned it and held it out a little, and Merlin leaned in— there, engraved in the concave side of the dragon scale shaped silver (the side usually hidden against Gwaine's chest), was a two-headed eagle. Merlin grinned and nodded, memorising it to look up later. "It's the only thing I've got of him, that and his wedding ring. Not this one," he fingered the golden ring about his neck, "this one's my mother's. She doesn't really need it now he's gone, 'cause he'll never really leave her and she can fend off any unwanted suitors just fine without it." He grinned again. "She taught me to fight. Brilliant woman, my mother! My brother's got his one, the one our father wore."

"Twins, me and my brother. He's blonde though, green eyes too. We're a right pair!" He chuckled, his own brown eyes becoming unfocused momentarily, before coming back to Merlin again. "I've got the pendant and Ma's ring, Gareth— that's my brother— he's got our father's ring, and Gail's got a few things Ma handed down to her, mostly ornate daggers and things. Gail's our sister, she's a little hellion! I kept telling Ma, she doesn't need any more weapons, she's deadly enough as it is." Merlin couldn't help but smile as Gwaine slipped into the affectionate use of the term 'Ma', he clearly cared an awful lot for his family.

Merlin canted his head to the side a little, curiosity taking over. "Why did you leave your family?" He spoke as softly and kindly as possible, keeping his expression open and warm to show Gwaine he wasn't being accused of anything. After all, was Merlin not here in Camelot whilst his own beloved mother was in Ealdor?

Gwaine shook his head, his smile sad, dismissing the message he read in Merlin's expression and body language. "When we were fourteen, only a few days from fifteen"— Merlin assumed he meant himself and Gareth— "there was a raid on our village. Therian, in Caerleon… no, sorry, Annis' now, in her kingdom… queendom…" He frowned, puzzling over the correct terminology for a kingdom run by a queen, before seemingly brushing the issue away. "Anyway, we stood and fought them off, me and Gareth back-to-back, Ma cutting 'em down like a scythe through a field full of briars, Gail off to the side with any blunt object she could get her hands on and swing fast enough. Ma had said that our father wore this pendant into battle, and always came away alive and mostly unharmed, but left it with us after Gail was born… and was killed." He shook his head again, possibly at the implications of his words, before continuing. "I wore it that day, in that fight. I took my first life then, me and Gareth both. Gail just battered people unconscious, and Ma was already a well-weathered fighter by then. Anna, warrior woman." His eyes were distant and shadowed, fingers playing with ring and pendant both.

Merlin was stunned. He couldn't help but think of the battles fought to defend Ealdor, the day Will was killed saving the then-Prince Arthur, then implicated himself as a sorcerer to save Merlin's own hide. Looking back up at his friend (Gwaine and Will would have been brilliant together, getting themselves and him in and out of trouble every other minute), he realised that Gwaine's experience had had a similar affect on him. He didn't speak though, waiting for the older man to pull himself together; it would do no good to force him. He didn't have to wait long.

"I don't know how they did it." He paused, taking a deep breath, looking down at his father's dragon scale pendant and his mother's wedding ring. "Gareth and Gail. The things we saw and did that day… it was like they'd just taken all of it and put it in a box and shoved it away, and got on with their lives. I couldn't. I just couldn't… I knew I'd done the right thing, but it still made me feel sick." He clutched the items in his clenched fist now, metal edges pressing sharply into his palm. "I started drinking then, trying not to think straight. Surprised they even let me in, but they did; let me have whatever as long as I could pay for it. That turned out to be a mistake. The crops weren't so great that year, and the winter was hard; we needed all the coins we could get. Gareth did any work for any man or woman, trying his damndest to help Ma make ends meet. Me, I got into fights, made bets on who'd win for money. It worked, 'cause I always won, almost, and never lost twice." He grinned ruefully. "Even with all that, and Gail helping out as well, it wasn't enough. So I stole. Food, mostly, and cloth, thread and things. Ma didn't like it, but she realised it was necessary, so accepted that I was trying to do the right thing. Always have done, even if it's hard to tell."

The young manservant didn't think it was hard to tell. What other vagabond traveller would step in to help two strangers who'd stuck their nose in where they shouldn't and gotten in trouble? What man banished on pain of death returned to save the life of the son of the man who'd banished him? And that was just for starters. No, Gwaine was a good man, better than most. "I know." Was all Merlin said in return, but it prompted a genuine smile from his friend anyway.

"But yeah, I wasn't… right. Gareth and me used to go everywhere together, getting into tussles on the street, going out hunting, just loitering around. I got more distant from him, though. It felt like we just didn't connect the way we did, we weren't on the same page anymore, or even in the same book. Me and Gail snapped at each other all the time, I'd clam up whenever Ma asked what was wrong, 'cause if she needed to ask then she wouldn't understand so there was no point trying to explain. I couldn't really articulate it anyway." He shifted on the bed, whether to make himself more comfortable or to gather his courage or thoughts, Merlin wasn't sure. "Eventually, a little after we both turned sixteen, I grabbed my hunting gear and went into the forest. Two days I was out there, by myself, just working everything over, sorting things out in my head and putting myself back together. When I came back, finally ready to move on with my life, I looked in the window… and they were happy. Laughing, talking, enough food for the three of them to have a decent meal… the first time they had been genuinely happy in over a year was after I'd been gone. I utilised my infamous mind power and intelligence to work through the information I had and jump to completely the wrong conclusion, then snuck in at night, left a note, grabbed the rest of my stuff and left."

Gwaine sighed, eyes sinking closed briefly. Merlin welcomed the reprieve, still trying to process the information and figure out how to react. When Gwaine opened his eyes again, he seemed like he didn't want to delve any further into the past, so Merlin spoke despite his aching curiosity. "You don't have to tell me any more if you don't want to."

The knight shook his head almost instantly. "I want to. It's just hard."

Merlin could understand that pretty well.

"When I was travelling, the pendant made me think of both my parents. My father, my heritage and what that meant, my mother and how much she loved him, loved us." He paused, swallowing thickly. "The ring made me think of Ma as well, and Gareth, knowing he had the other, that even now we were still bound." He smiled. "As for Gail… well…" He reached down into his left boot and pulled out a wicked-looking, long-bladed dagger, causing Merlin's eyes to widen in shock. He'd never seen that before. "Birthday present." Gwaine grinned. "Saved my life more than once. Tend to keep it under my pillow when I'm not wearing boots, so don't come barging in at night without knocking."

Merlin nodded and made a mental note to warn the others, but still managed a smile. Gwaine was always full of surprises. He slipped it back inside his boot, invisible, and rubbed his hand across his thigh as if it pained him, possibly remembering when someone else's dagger was imbedded in it. "They gave me strength. Eventually, four years ago now, two before I met you so… I was twenty two, I finally went back. I was expecting a smack from Ma, judging by the look on her face, but I got a hug instead. Expected a hug from Gail after that and got a smack." He chuckled. "Gareth did both. Punched me in the face then grabbed hold of me and refused to let go, telling me I was stupid. Turned out they were happy that day 'cause they'd gotten a little extra money from a passing traveller who'd bought some stuff off them, and Gareth had finally managed to string that gods-damned bow I gave him and wanted to show me." He slumped back against the wall, rubbing his hand across his face. "I am so stupid sometimes."

"You're not stupid." Merlin protested.

Gwaine laughed, hard and bitter, but spoke again before Merlin could dig himself any deeper. "Doesn't matter anyway. We fixed things between us, and it was all great for a month or two… but I didn't feel right. I wasn't that little boy anymore— because I was one, back when I lived with them. I'd done so much and seen more, some of it wonderful, some of it terrible. I'd missed my chance to go back to that life long ago. I stayed as long as we all could bear, and then I was off again; with a proper goodbye this time." He smiled sadly. "Knowing they're not better off without me, like I thought… it should make me feel better, shouldn't it? It just makes me miss 'em more."

Merlin didn't know what to say. He thought of Hunith in Ealdor, how she could never stand to leave and all the reasons why.

Did Gwaine's mother, Anna, have those ties?

"How…" he hesitated, unsure how to ask, "how does your mother feel about Therian?"

Gwaine laughed. "She thinks it's a gods-awful place and she's glad I got out of there!"

The young warlock grinned right back. "Maybe you could invite them all to move up here, to Camelot?"

Silence. The knight didn't seem quite sure how to process that. Eventually he smiled, eyes bright and voice soft. "Not sure how they'd take it or if they'd agree… but I might do. I just might do." The softness faded, and drunken rowdy Gwaine was back. "But only if you coerce your mother in to coming up here too, if just for a visit!"

Merlin looked comically shocked and he knew it, a laugh tugging at the corners of his open mouth. "I'm not coercing my mother into anything, who do you think I am?"

Serious Gwaine was back. Those eyes, fierce and burning— twice in one night, a new record— were complimenting the subtle power in his deceptively low voice, honestly terrifying Merlin and bringing flashbacks to the Lamia. "No. No more questions from you. It's my turn." He leaned forward, pinning his friend with his gaze in a way no one else could. "Do you trust me?"

He pursed his lips. "Yes." It was the honest truth, even now, even when scaring him.

"You would tell me then, without me asking? Eventually?"

Eyes wide, face pale, Merlin nearly choked. "W-what?"

"I'm not stupid. You said yourself." He couldn't seriously mean…?

"No, no of course not—"

"Prove to me that's what you think."

It was. He knew. It was in his eyes. For how long? Merlin remembered that night by the campfire, desperate to try and heal Arthur with magic, frantically trying to convince Gwaine to go and collect more firewood, even as he stubbornly refused to move, fixing a deadpan glare on the fire, voice matching his expression. The grave seriousness as he finally spoke his panicking friend's name, as though to begin some fatally important conversation, only to change tack and smile, cracking a joke before leaving. Did he even really leave?

How long had he known?

He should have been terrified.

All he felt was relief. Pure, selfish relief— except that Gwaine was relieved too. No more lies or pretending on either side.

Merlin laughed, and Gwaine laughed with him.

There would be many more stories to share.