Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hector was walking through the palace of Dalriada, steps echoing against the stone floor. Servants easily moved out of his way, recognizing the haste in his stride. The paper between his fingers felt like the heaviest thing in the world as he headed towards the council room. His blue cape swept across the floor behind him, marking him as a trusted knight. His chainmail was shifting and as the links hit each other, it was one of the few noises he was able to hear throughout the entire hallway. 

As he approached the doors, he forced them open with his hands. He heard the paper crinkle under his hold, feeling the wooden splits threatening to dig into his hands. Letting his hands drop to his side, he strode behind the chairs of the councilmen, towards the end of the room. The men turned back to look at him as he passed by each of them. He ignored them and went to the side of his king and leaned down to whisper in his ear, setting the letter down on the table. His king looked at the familiar writing on top of the letter, before turning to the council.

“I will need you to excuse me.” 

He led the king back past the council chairs and out of the room. He was able to hear the noises of sudden outrage and annoyance at the interruption. His own steps continued to speed up so that he was able to stay beside his king. The silence between the ruler and his most trusted knight hung heavily on anyone they passed. As they passed by, people got quieter, growing concerned about the tension coursing through the hallways. 

Heading into the king’s private chambers, Hector closed the doors behind them, double checking that they locked behind him. He turned back to the king as he opened the letter without even sitting down at his desk. The ink along the paper was smudged, the edges fraying, and stained with who knows what.

“Is this the truth?” 

“Yes, the letter was given to me directly by Sir Lucan.”

His king sat down and read over the letter once again, seeming to drag his fingers along the words on the page; as if that would be able to realize what he was reading was the absolute truth. If it was given to them by almost anyone else he was positive that his king would not believe it. He knew that if had not been Lucan, then he wouldn’t have believed it either.

“When did he say that this happened?”

“Three months ago, he said that this was the earliest that anyone was able to reach another kingdom.”

“Did he say anything about the fate of my brother?”

“Yes. He said, while it is unconfirmed, he is believed to have been killed while helping out the Galte Clan.”

His king nodded, putting his hand over his chin and leaning onto it. He watched as his eyes scanned back over the letter once more, considering the contents carefully. Dalriada had been a solidary kingdom for almost two decades at this point, but he knew this would be a difficult decision for his king. This did involve his own elder brothers after all.

“And his wife?”

“Gone. She was rumored to have run two months ago. It is not certain if she was forced to or ran off on her own accord; but no one has seen her since then.”

“Okay. Okay… and my nephew?”

“He is assumed to be alive, but no one is quite certain where he is. Your brother arranged for him to study in another kingdom while he was fighting in the war, but no one is certain what kingdom he was sent to.”

His king rubbed his forehead and set the letter back down onto the desk. The edge of it was lifting up as the wind blew in through the windows. Once more, the silence that hung between the two of them was heavy. Hector had guarded his king since he was just a young boy; so, for neither of them to know what to say to each other, was certainly a sign of how grievous this matter truly was.

“Sire… are we going to offer assistance to them?”

“My nephew and sister-in-law are nowhere to be found?”

“Yes.”

“...then no. Dalriada will continue the neutral status of our kingdom.”

“Of course.” He nodded and began to turn towards the doors, not yet taking the steps he needed to leave.

“Is there something you wish to say, Hector?”

“Yes.”

“Then speak, you know I trust your counsel.”

“Why are you refusing to help? I realize that Dalriada is a neutral kingdom, and that the crown prince is missing, but those that remain are still your nieces and nephews.”

The King sighed and rubbed his temple, running his hands through his hair, forcing himself to look up. He felt his eyes wandering over Hector’s face, he knew he was looking for his sincerity and Hector knew it wouldn’t be hard. To the public he would always support his king’s decision, but like this, in private, he would talk to him as an equal.

“I realize that I am… effectively abandoning my family; but with my eldest nephew missing, there is no one who would be able to inherit the throne.”

“What about your eldest niece?”

“My brother never got around to changing the law for a princess able to inherit the throne. So only one of my nephews would be able to; and until there is certainty that the crown prince is deceased…

“No one else is able to take over the throne…” Hector finished, realizing that it would mean that the throne would be left empty; or his king would be forced to take it over.

“I will need a few moments to properly collect myself and then… then I will go and inform the council. After that, the Kingdom of Dalriada will release a statement that we will not be providing any assistance to the Kingdom of Lothian.”

“Of course, sire… what if your nephew does show up?”

King Angusel hummed in thought and rubbed his chin, “Along with that… I will personally release a statement saying that I will personally provide a very generous reward for the return of Crown Prince Gawain of Lothian."

Chapter Text

EIGHT DAYS AGO

Lothian Castle

Orkney Islands, The Kingdom of Lothian

Sir Lucan was in the kitchen, appearing to be collecting the dinner for Prince Gareth. Usually this would be the job of a servant but given how much had changed in the Lothian after Urien's revolution, it had become his job. As he made the plate in front of him, he could feel some of the cooks slipping various fruits into the bag he had. The bag was, very carefully, attached to his belt and made sure that it was hidden by the grey cape around his shoulders.

A woman patted his shoulder, he picked up the plate from the counter. As his fingers curled around it, he turned and left out the main corridor. He was hypervigilant as he walked through the halls, bordering on excessive paranoia. He was attempting to take long and deep breaths, pushing the panic to the lowest point in his body. Against his decades of service to the crown, he knew that this was the most concerned he had ever been. 

He wasn’t this concerned when King Lot died, he wasn’t this concerned when Urien overthrew the kingdom, and he wasn’t this concerned when Angusel denied assistance to the proper heirs. Now though… Now, this was more than any of that. He never doubted how strong the Lothian heirs were, they were the children of one of the most powerful couples that he had ever served.

King Lot and Queen Anna, he certainly hadn’t expected to think about them as he walked through their former castle. Those two had been an absolute force to be reckoned with. Anna was a Sorceress who was raised with the druids in the kingdom of Camelot. Camelot hadn’t been as against magic back then as it was now, but it still was certainly no place for magic. Lot? He had been in service to him since he took over the crown from his father. He was constantly traveling between Lothian and Norway, assisting his cousins in the Galte Clan at every turn. He managed to not only rule over a kingdom that was the side of two, but also advise his family’s clan that was across the sea. Their children had constantly proven to be just as strong as both of their parents. He had helped raise them since Gawain had taken his first breath, and he would protect them until he took his last.

Today though was the day that he was most terrified for; as he walked towards Prince Gareth’s bedroom. Even when Urien had taken over the throne, he had known that the Lothian siblings would be okay. They had lost their parents but they still had each other. If they got caught today though, they would almost certainly be charged with treason, and they would no longer be able to keep each other strong.

After what seemed like an eternity he reached the young prince’s door, nodding to the guards as they opened the doors. He walked into the room, walking over to the desk, setting down the plate on a space between the loose papers that Gareth constantly left everywhere.

“Your dinner, sire.” He told him, leaning back from the desk and placing his hands behind his back. He grasped one wrist with his other hand, watching as Gareth stood up and headed over.

His youngest prince sat down at the desk, picking up the bread and turning it over in his hands. He set it back down and pushed around some of the food with a fork, making a frown with his face. Gareth picked up the plate from the very bottom of it and shoved it back towards Lucan.

“This is disgusting, get rid of it.” 

“Where to?”

“I do not care; the prisoners.” Gareth rolled his eyes and stood back up to walk to his bed again.

“Of course, sire.” Lucan nodded and grabbed the plate again, feeling the slim piece of paper that he now held under his fingers. He gave a very miniscule nod towards the prince, before turning on his heels and walking out the open doors. As he passed the guards outside the room, he took a calming breath and headed towards the steps to the dungeon.

~~~

He walked down the thin flights of stairs, feeling the subtle temperature change as he walked further down the stone. Slowly more of the windows started to disappear as he found his way into the dungeons. He had been here more often in the past thirteen years than he had been in the rest of his service to Lothian. Urien’s rule had been increasingly more violent than Lot and Anna’s.

“I’m here to give food to Cadeyrn.” He explained to the guards outside of the entrance to the cells.

The gate to the cells were unlocked and he followed the guards further into the dungeons, allowing them to lead him to the cell of Cadeyrn. He looked at the guard he was following, glancing between the grey cape they both wore. He frowned lightly, it was a reminder of who he was now forced to serve.

He wrinkled his nose some as they got further into the dungeons, the smell was getting to him now. All who still swore their loyalty to the now former King Lot, were held in the farthest areas of the dungeon. He wasn’t quite sure how people managed to not get sick when they were held back here.

The gate to his cell got unlocked, he allowed his feet to carry him in. The hay that covered the floor was easily crunching underneath his boots. He glanced his eyes over to his old friend, who was laying down on a small pile of hay. He looked away from him and set the plate down on the small tray on the wall. 

“Your meal, Cadeyrn.” He looked over at his old friend, watching as he stood up and came closer to him.

“Lucan… oh how the mighty have fallen.” Cadeyrn huffed, crossing his arms, but clearly shivering.

“How low I have fallen?” He shook his head, “No, it’s how low you have stayed. You used to be a knight of the crown prince himself and now look at you. Laying on hay, in rags, freezing.”

Cadeyrn glared at him, “At least I still have my morals.”

“Oh you are so right. You’re as good as dead but at least you have your precious morals.” He chuckled and shook his head, taking off his cape. “Here, why don’t you have my cape, your reward for keeping your morals.”

After shoving the cape into his arms, he turned on his heel and walked out of the cell. He followed the dungeon guard out, only sparing a glance back at his cell, meeting his friend’s small grin with one of his own as Cadeyrn opened the bundle of cape to find the bag stored inside.

Chapter Text

PRESENT DAY

Fortress of Idirsholas

The Kingdom of Camelot

Gwaine leaned forward on the edge of the tower, staring out across the land and focusing on the smallest hint of water he couldn’t quite  see. His arms were crossed in front of him on the stone, a smile gracing his face. The wind was pushing him forward, forcing his hair to fly in front of  his face. With a huff he pushed himself up, taking out a ribbon and tying his hair back. Once it was out of the way, he tried to lean back on the stone, but found that he was no longer comfortable against it. He pushed himself off of it once more, shaking his head. He walked around to check on the other knights that were on the ground within the fortress walls.

 They had decided to stay within the courtyard of the ruined castle before continuing on towards Willowdale. From his vantage point he could see Percival working on cooking a, hopefully, decent meal; usually that would be Merlin’s job, but he had needed to stay back at the palace. Gaius said he needed him for some important herb errand, whatever that meant. Elyan was finishing the camp setup, but he couldn’t seem to find Arthur and Leon.

He turned to look over another point of the wall. A grin started to tug at his lips, there was nothing but forest for as far as the eye could see. It really was the perfect vantage point, the only still standing building that was atop the hill. Once it was his turn for watch duty, he definitely had to come back up here. It would certainly be pitch black, which would make his job easier. An enemy would need some form of light to approach, and would make a target easy to spot. It would also be easy to spot Arthur and Leon, who were gathering wood for a fire. 

He followed them with his eyes, until they came back and passed under the archway. He, once more, was able to turn and look into the courtyard. He started to chuckle to himself lightly, he looked around the top of the walls, deciding to head towards the other side of the fortress; as it seemed like Arthur still hadn’t noticed that Gwaine was not helping out with anything. 

“Gwaine!”

Damn. Spoke too soon.

“Gwaine!”

Wouldn’t it be thought too soon? He never actually spoke.

“GWAINE!”

“What can I do for you, princess?” He shouted down, leaning over the tower wall so that Arthur was able to see him. Although by the way he was looking around in every other direction, he had yet to figure out where Gwaine was. “Above you!”

That seemed to get his attention as he looked upward, placing one hand above his eyes. “What are you doing up there!? Get down here and help Elyan with the camp!”

“Aw, now why would I go and do that? Elyan looks perfectly happy to be doing that by himself!”

“ Gwaine! ”

He dropped his head, shaking it as a wide grin came over his face. Messing with Arthur was just too much fun, and way too easy.“I will be down in just a minute, your majesty .”

He turned and continued on the walkway, heading towards the staircase. He double checked how steady the top step was, before he began to hop down them. He probably wasn’t being nearly as cautious as he should be, but he enjoyed it. The blade tip of his sword was hitting the top of each step, his belt looser than usual from being on a horse the entire day. 

As Gwaine got to the bottom, he adjusted his belt to a tighter hole, before entering the courtyard through the empty arch. He ran his fingers along the wall, taking note of the rusty hinges; there must have been a door here. He took his hand off,  hooking his thumbs inside of the leather, the sun setting fast as he arrived next to Elyan. He knelt down to help finish setting up the sleeping mats. He did try his best to stay focused, but couldn’t help himself from tilting his head towards the sky, and letting the wind tousle the strands of hair that had already come loose. He swore that if he focused, he could faintly smell the sea.

“What has gotten into you today?” 

He stared upwards for another round of moments, before tilting his head back down to focus on the sleeping mats, “What are you on about, Elyan?”

“You’ve been acting weird since we started riding back to Camelot.”

“What can I say, I’m upset.” He commented with a shrug

Elyan looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Upset? You?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, before continuing with a wink, “There hasn’t been a tavern for two whole days.”

Elyan just stared at him, shaking his head and standing up, “Gwaine, every day I have to interact with you, I am glad I have no idea what is happening within your strange little mind.”

“Ah, but that is where all of my excellent ideas come from!”

“That’s exactly why I am glad.”

Gwaine started to laugh and pushed himself up from the ground, finished with the task at hand. Elyan had already started his way over to Percival, to help him finish cooking, no doubt. Well, maybe a little doubt. His eyes wandered over to Arthur, noting that the firewood was not enough to get through the night, so someone would have to go back out later and collect more. He walked over to the fire and lowered himself to the ground, leaning back until he was all but laying down on the log.

He worked on taking off his sword scabbard, somehow that didn’t work the best while sitting down; who would have thought? He was already on the ground and comfortable though, so he was not making the effort to get back up. He continued to struggle with it as he vaguely heard the others arguing in the background. His hands stopped struggling for a moment as he took in the noise. Every time they did this, he couldn’t help but enjoy the family he had managed to find; yet his mood was quickly soured by the reminder of the family he still had not found.

“-aine. Gwaine!”

“What?” He looked up, confused when he saw Leon’s hand waving in front of his face. When did Leon get there?

“Food is ready.” He told him, handing over the full bowl. “Lost in thought were you?”

“Something like that.” Gwaine chuckled, he finished taking the sword off, before grabbing the bowl.

Percival looked up at him, “Do we even want to know?”

“Oh! I can go ahead and tell you all about the beautiful women who haunt my every wak-”

“Can we please shove his socks in his mouth?” Elyan groaned, leaning backward.

“I asked ahead of time, Merlin said no.” Percival informed them all.

Arthur stopped eating as he looked up, “You asked Merlin. Instead of me?”

“Why would I ask you?”

“Because I’m you king, Percival.”

“And Merlin has access to the food and water I use, he wins.”

“He does not win ! How is that winning!?”

“Because we are almost certain Merlin is not afraid to poison all of us.” 

He was pretty sure that the last comment was given by Leon, but he could not be certain about it. He started to eat slowly, as he got lost into his world of thoughts . He really was out of it today, had Elyan been onto something earlier? If he really thought about it, he had felt off most of the day. Before his thoughts could focus on that for too long, his mind was drifting back to the sea, to the smell of the salt water.

The water always smelled like home. It reminded him of his mother, and even more of his sister. The days when mother was at work, and so his sister took him out and they went running up and down the dock. Sometimes, they managed to even get onto a ship. He would climb to the top of the crow’s nest, and see how far he could lean over, before he got yelled at. More often than not, it would be the highlight of their week. Then later, when their mother asked what they did today, they would say they did nothing; their mother would give them the most mischievous smile, knowing that they were lying. She never called them out on it though.

Gwaine was snapped upwards from the log, where he had apparently been laying for much longer than he realized. The sky was dark, the knights were mostly asleep around him, and the sparking fire was dimming as it was tended to by Leon. He raised his hands to rub at his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness around him. Seriously, when had it gotten so dark? Was he really out of it for that long? Where did his bowl go?

“Are you okay?” Leon asked, not looking over at him, just staring straight at the fire.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” He nodded and rubbed his eyes, “I’m going to get more firewood.”

Leon looked over at him, nodding, and turning back to the fire. “Hurry back then, wouldn’t want to have to send someone out to find you.”

“Aw, look at that, you do care.” He winked at him as he turned and walked out of the fortress. 

He ran a hand through his hair, noticing that the ribbon had disappeared, he’d have to find it once he got the firewood. He passed through the main arch, having to narrow his eyes to try and see. It really was completely black outside, he wouldn’t be able to stray too far from the arch. It provided the tiniest bit of light from the edges of the fire. 

Gwaine leaned over and picked up a stick he found, it was not meant to be firewood, but it would make good kindling. He spun the stick around in his hand and stood straight again- close to straight. He stood at the edge of the light and just stared ahead, at the dark depths of the forest. He remembered that, not too long ago, there had been no forest here; at least not the last time he passed through the area. Arthur told him the story about the knights of Medhir. Which was probably why he did not want them wandering farther than the courtyard. What kinds of trees were these? Had they grown fast, or were they planted there grown? 

“What are you thinking of?”

He plastered a smile on his face, turning to see Leon next to him; although he could really only see the shadow of him. “I thought you were tending to the fire?”

“The fire can wait for a few moments.”

“How do you think the forest grew here?” He turned his head back.

Leon tilted his head, turning in the same direction, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, obviously the forest has been here, but it wasn’t nearly this thick a few years ago. Well, maybe thick is not the right word. It was not as close to the fortress.” He rambled off to him.

“This castle was a home of sorcery, maybe there is a sorcerer living nearby who did it.”

“I suppose…” He trailed off nodding.

They both stood silent for several minutes, just standing there staring at the forest. The light was fading slightly, enveloping them in more darkness. The silence was only broken by the sounds of animals, and Leon turned to leave.

“I need to get back to the fire. It needs more wood, how much do you have?” Leon asked

Gwaine looked down at the stick he was holding, “I’ll grab another few pieces and be with you.”

“Alright.” It looked like Leon nodded, heading back towards the remaining light. 

He only took a few moments to grab some more wood; wood that actually resembled firewood this time. He gathered the small bundle in his arms, turning and heading back into the courtyard. His eyes were taking another minute to readjust to the light. He set the wood down next to Leon, before remembering to grab the ribbon off of the ground.

“I’m going to head to sleep. Wake me up when it is time for my watch.”

Chapter Text

EIGHT DAYS AGO

Lothian Castle

The Kingdom of Lothian

“So… what exactly is this plan supposed to be?” Clarissant stepped into the light, eyes passing over Cadeyrn as he worked on picking the cell lock. No one had actually informed her on what the plan was supposed to be for getting out of the castle undetected. Sir Lucan had only given her the briefest overview of what was supposed to happen, and Gareth had refused to give her any additional information; the little twerp.

“It’s complicated.” Cadeyrn told her, his body pressed up against the bars in a position that looked horribly uncomfortable. She could only imagine what kinds of bruises it would leave later with the force he was using to get the angle he needed for the lock. Well, she would most likely get to see the bruises on his arms, so she would not need to work on imagining it. 

Walking closer to the cell, she leaned against the bars and stared at his hands as he struggled, “I have a great idea.”

“And what,” He grunted as his wrist tilted into a clearly painful position, “Would the idea be Princess Clarissant?”

“How about I just go get the keys and unlock the lock?” She hummed in what she hoped came off as a condescending tone. It seemed like her idea would be much easier than whatever Cadeyrn and Sir Lucan had constructed.  Unlock the lock was an unusual phrase, although she supposed it was correct. Was it grammatically correct? She would have to ask a tutor.

He let out a triumphant chuckle as the lock popped and was able to swing the door open, “Well, that would be faster; but the idea is to let them believe I escaped by myself. If we took the guard’s keys, they would know that I had an accomplice inside of the castle.”

“We could have just put the keys back when we were done!” 

“No. I might not like Urien’s guards, but they are qualified. They would be able to tell if the door opened easily, or if I had to struggle with it.” He told her. As he closed the cell door, he gestured towards the new scratches and grooves that surrounded the lock, made with the knife that actually made a decent lockpick. She had originally doubted Sir Lucan when he told her that Cadeyrn could pick a lock with a knife.

She frowned at his explanation, and just rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe it was not the worst plan to not use the keys; but she still thought that her plan would have worked out better. Her point was further proven when she heard steps approaching them. It was most likely whoever was supposed to change post with the unconscious man on the floor. 

“My idea would have taken less time. It would have given us time to get up the steps, not leave us a minute away from you getting caught escaping, with myself helping.”

“That may be true, but the plan was never to use the stairs.” Cadeyrn gave her a small smirk as he held up a piece of paper that had simply had ‘Lucan’ written on the top of it, in what she was quite sure was Gareth’s handwriting. There was most likely a second side that he was not showing to her, their escape route no doubt.

She let out a huff, shaking her head, “Well, maybe I would have known that if anybody had actually bothered to tell me what the plan was to get out of the castle.”

“Stop pouting will you? It’s unbecoming of a princess. Now, hurry up and follow me.” He made his way down the corridor, further into the darkness of the dungeon.

“Do you know what else is unbecoming of a princess?” She asked, lifting her skirts up so that it was easier to follow  in the narrowed passages. “Escaping your castle, and trying to commit treason on your uncle; yet, you have never said anything against that.”

“Eh,” He provided her with a vague shrug, “Selective princess behaviors then.”

“You are such a hypocrite.”

“Why yes, yes I am.”

She let out a groan, dropping her head backwards. He was so smug sometimes, it was refreshing and, simultaneously, super annoying. He and Sir Lucan were basically like the uncles she never had; well obviously she had two uncles but it was not like either of them were emotionally close. She had never even met one, at least she could never remember meeting him. As well as the fact that the uncle she had met, was a tyrant that took over their kingdom, and afterwards proceeded to murder their mother. So Cadeyrn and Sir Lucan were the uncles she never had that actually behaved like uncles.

“Why are we going deeper into the dungeon?” She finally asked. 

He chuckled and glanced at her, “How do you think you siblings got away with always sneaking out?”

That hit her like a stone wall, “Seriously? All these years and they never took me with them!?”

“Shh, we cannot risk being too loud.” He scolded her, “Besides, they have not gone out as much since your uncle took over. It was too much of a risk.”

“How so?” 

“If they got caught, they wouldn’t simply be in trouble- like with your parents. He would harshly punish them, and either fill in the passages or use them for his own gain. Stay still.”

She stopped once he said that, pausing and considering it. It did make sense. If this worked, they would most likely need the tunnels to overthrow Urien. The overthrow had been discussed for years, so of course they wanted to minimize the risk of anything going wrong; including that they would stop using the passages they used to love. She assumed they used to love, at least. 

She could not see exactly what Cadeyrn was doing, but before she knew it, part of the wall had opened up and there was a hallway lit up with torches. They would have to duck the entire way, as the ceiling was too short to stand up straight in. 

“Go in first,” He instructed her, gesturing his hand forward and into the passage.

She took a moment to gather herself, before slipping past his side and in. It was rather damp, so someone must have lit the torches recently. It would not be safe, or feasible, to always keep the torches lit. Gareth and Sir Lucan were involved in the break out, that she knew for certain; so it was likely one of them. She would put her money on Sir Lucan.

Clarissant turned to see what Cadeyrn was doing, not wanting to start the walk without him. He was pushing the wall back into place, having to shove his shoulder into it. The torches caught the faint glint of hinges that were covered in rust. The stone along the edges of the wall-door were starting to drop small bits of stone. He turned back towards her once it was correctly back in place. 

“I could hear the guards getting much closer than they should be, go!” He whisper-shouted at her, shoving her shoulder gently.

She turned away from him, and made her way through the passage. Every few steps, she could hear a puddle splash underneath her foot. She was grateful that she was wearing boots, it protected her actual clothing from the water. She could not wait to get out of the dress though. It was not uncomfortable, but it was far from her first choice of clothing. Her clothes were waiting for them somewhere outside the castle. 

“Where does this let out?” Daring to glance over her shoulder at him. He was farther behind than she expected, working on putting out the torches as they walked.

“At the edge of the lake. Before your father was made king, this doubled as a drain.”

Well that explained where the water - oh how she hoped it was water - had come from. There were likely some areas that had not been properly sealed after the drain went out of use. She was glad that she knew exactly which lake he was talking about. It served as the eastern edge of the upper town. 

“Are we exiting and then going through the lower town? It will surely be late by that point, can we risk being caught for breaking the curfew?” She asked him.

“We are not going through the lower town. After we exit the passage, we’ll travel along the northern edge of the lake until we reach Lucan. He will be waiting with our change of clothes, and the horses.” He explained to her.

She nodded, trying to picture the path they were going to take. She was not as familiar with the edges of the towns. Her uncle never let her travel that far out, and she was too young to remember if her parents ever took her there. That was one thing that she would always be jealous of her siblings for. They all had memories of their parents. Even Gareth, the sibling immediately older than her, was old enough to have a few memories of them. She only had the stories passed down, and the few portraits that Urien was not able to destroy. She did not even know what their main castle looked like! Her uncle had never allowed them to return to Orkney.

The walk was already longer than she expected it to be. She was utterly curious about what room they were underneath. She had gotten too lost in thought, and had not been paying enough attention about where the turns were. Once they stepped outside, she should be able to place where she was. Unless it was too dark, which was a high possibility with how long they had walked. Had they actually walked for long, or was that just her mind playing tricks on her?

~~~

They continued the rest of the walk in utter silence, except for one point when she had tried to strike up a conversation but they had to cease once they heard voices. If they could hear others, it was a distinct possibility that the people would be able to hear them as well. She was increasingly curious about what they were under in the castle, and how thin these stones were to hear those voices. It was possible that there were cracks between pieces of stone. Getting back to her original train of thought, she felt her shoulders droop as they approached the opening. There were bars covering it, which she was surprised were still there. 

She ran her hands along the rim that held it all together. It was locked. The second surprise of the night; well, no, not of the night. It was the second surprise of the past thirty seconds though. She pulled her hands away from the rusted metal, and turned to look at Cadeyrn, unsure about what she was supposed to do now.

“Gareth slipped Lucan the key. It was folded into the note.” He explained to her, passing the metal key into her awaiting hands.

“What path do we take after this?” She was not sure which direction was which anymore. She did not have time to linger on that, sticking her hand outside the bars, and pushing the key into the lock. It did take a few tries, not able to see well in the dark, but eventually the key entered. After that, it was only another few moments before it clicked open.

She smiled, the first real smile that she had all night, all day actually. For the entire day, her heart had been pounding. Every word anyone spoke to her, had made it spike even higher. Yet, everything seemed to be going right. She had gotten Cadeyrn out of the cell, he had a bag of rations, and their escape route was officially unlocked. Actually, Cadeyrn had gotten himself out, but she had given him the knife.

She pushed the bars open, and looked at the jump to get out of the drain. It was quite a drop, and she was not confident that her dress would not ruin her attempt. She, once again, turned towards Cadeyrn. As much as she liked to claim she was the most independent, she never had the chance to hunt and properly train like her siblings, so this was not her area of expertise. 

“Hold onto my hand,” He offered his hand to her, which she tightly gripped onto, “Now sit down, and push yourself out. You’re going to push your boots against the wall, and slowly climb down.”

“Are you sure this is the best way?” She asked, sitting down on the edge.

“It’s not the best way, but when you are inexperienced, it is the safest option.”

She glanced down at the ground, and slowly started to push herself out of the drain. “Are you sure?”

“Princess Clarissant,” He started, looking into her eyes. “I will not let you fall.”

She took a shallow breath, nodding as she shoved her feet against the wall below her. She pushed herself off the rest of the way, yet she only dropped a few inches before her feet stopped her. True to his word, Cadeyrn did not let her fall. She felt more confident in herself, and slid her feet down the wall, feeling Cadeyrn lower her with his hand. Once the ground was only inches below her, she nodded to him, and let herself drop onto the ground. She let out a breath, one that she was not even aware she was holding. She got to her feet, and stepped away from the wall. Darkness drowned her as he put out the last torch.

In just a few seconds, Cadeyrn was already on the ground, adjusting his cape to sit properly once more. She watched him double check the rations, before bending over. She tilted her head to see what he was doing, just in time to see him pick up a large stick, and nudge the bars closed. After it was closed, he turned over to look at her.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Ready as I will ever be.” She agreed, “Lead the way to our escape.”

A smile spread over his face, she thought it was a smile. True to what she thought, it was hard to make anything out with only the moonlight. Once he started walking - along what must be the northern edge of the lake - she followed behind him. The ground was uneven, and with how hard it was to see the non-existent path, it would be a miracle if she did not twist anything. 

“I want you to keep yourself steady. Well, steady as you can while still hurrying.” He instructed her, holding a hand out in her direction. 

She tried to make sure that he stayed within her sights. Instead of pouring all her energy into focusing though, she had to ask the question that had been burning in her mind, “Why did you and Sir Lucan split up the clothing and the rations?”

“It provided the least risk.”

“The least risk?”

“If I got caught, I only had rations. They would assume I was just escaping, and was going to leave the kingdom,” He started to tell her, “If Lucan was caught, they would assume that he was just bringing clothes to his siblings, not helping someone escape.”

“That makes sense,” She hummed, “The plan would not be unraveled, unless both of you got caught. Correct?”

“Correct.” He nodded, stopping in his tracks. He crouched down, and she assumed he was motioning for her to do the same. “Some of Urien’s guards.”

She crouched down with him, narrowing her eyes to make out where the knights were walking. They were heading in a similar direction to them, which was going to make this harder than they had originally thought. She tried to trust that it would cause the three of them no issues, especially since they were on the other side of the lake. 

They stayed there, until the guards were a good length ahead of them. They started to move through nature again, hiding themselves behind some of the bushes. It was quite an experience to try and move swiftly, while not being able to see clearly and remaining silent as possible. She hated it.

“Lucan should be just up ahead, and to the left.” He told her, gesturing into a direction. She could vaguely make out four shadows; unsure if it was just her imagination, or if it was actually Sir Lucan. “Once we get to him, I am going to immediately leave. Lucan and yourself will leave after me. If there’s anyone attempting to catch us, hopefully, they will chase me.”

“What if they do not follow you, and chase after us instead?” She asked him.

“That is why Sir Lucan will be with you, he will protect you” He told her, moving them behind some trees, “As I ride towards Dalriada, you and Lucan will head south to try and gather any possible allies. In one month, you’ll join us in Dalriada, and we will get everything else hammered out then.”

“I still think that we should head towa-”

“No.” He shook his head, “Whether that rumor is true or not, that’s all it is, a rumor. Even if it is true, that will not be able to help us now.”

“I still think-”

“I told you, no, Princess Clarissant. I trust you, you know that, but this is the plan we have painstakingly made over several years. We cannot risk a hiccup, or it could all be for naught.” 

She chose to not comment any further, no matter what she believed they should be doing instead. Not only her siblings, but also her kingdom, were relying on her. She needed to follow the plan that they had made. They had sacrificed so much to put this all together, she just needed to put her faith in their hands - as much as she hated the idea.

She finished the cross and was able to confirm the shadows were the horses with Sir Lucan, who was organizing the bags he and Cadeyrn had. She turned towards the horses to give them their privacy, resting her hand on the mane and brushing her hand through it. None of these were the horse she considered hers, but that probably would have been too suspicious. If she and her horse both went missing.

“Princess, stay safe, and listen to Lucan.” Cadeyrn said, resting a hand on her shoulder. When did he come over to her?

She turned to him, nodding. “I will. Please try to stay safe as well.”

“I will. See you in one month.” He squeezed her shoulder before pulling himself up onto a horse. He said something to Sir Lucan, and disappeared into the dark.

She watched his shadow disappearing further, now unable to hear the hoofbeats. She took a steadying breath before she turned to see Sir Lucan, who was moving things into the saddle bags. She watched him closely, not really able to make out any of his features. She never interacted with Sir Lucan enough to be able to picture his face accurately. 

“Here,” He interrupted her train of thought, passing a bundle of cloth to her, “Your clothes. We are not able to get changed right now, but after we ride further out, then we can get changed.”

“Seriously?” She frowned, “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to try and ride facing front in the saddle while wearing a dress? I can tell you, it is incredibly uncomfortable.”

“Then just ride side saddle for now.” He offered to her, double checking that the saddles were securely hooked on.

“Absolutely not, you cannot ride as nearly as fast side saddle.”

He shook his head, before walking towards her and offering out his hand, “I will help you get up onto the horse, and then we are going to leave. Half of our rations are in your bags, half in mine.”

She shoved the change of clothes into the bag with the rations, before accepting his hand and let him help her up onto the saddle. She hooked her boot into the stirrup and pushed herself up. She rested her chest across the saddle, and swung her leg over so she could sit up. She bunched up her dress around her hips, as it was the only way to be remotely comfortable while riding front facing. She hoped they would change sooner rather than later, not wanting to risk getting a thigh rash. She turned to look to the side as Sir Lucan got onto his own horse.

“What happens if we get separated?” Clarissant asked him, adjusting the reins so that they were in the correct spot for her. 

“You will stay wherever you are, and I will attempt to find you,” He was adjusting things, but she was not quite sure what he was doing. “If we are separated for longer than two days, there is a map in your saddle bag, follow it towards Dalriada. Cadeyrn will be able to get it figured out from there.”

“What if I get attacked after we are separated? I do not have any weapons with me.” She pointed out to him.

Sir Lucan was shuffling more, before turning towards her and handing over a bow to her, “There are arrows in the second saddle bag, the one without the rations.”

She let out a quiet hum, they really did seem to think of everything. At least all of the questions she had formed so far. She was positive that she would find more questions if she put herself to it. Despite having less training than her siblings, she was rather good with a bow and arrow. You were not able to train with swords without a lot of clashing metal, but a bow was a much quieter weapon. So, over the years, Gracia had helped her practice with shooting in the dead of night. It was not as long a distance as possible, but you could only do so much in a room. 

“Are you secure?” Sir Lucan steered his horse along the side of hers. 

“As secure as I can be.” She nodded, taking a calming breath as they started their horses off into the forest. She swore that she could feel the cold seeping into her bones, or was that dread? She hoped it was the cold, although she could not help but fear that she was wrong. 

Chapter Text

PRESENT

Outside Of Willowdale

The Kingdom Of Camelot

“I’m glad that Willowdale has recovered. We weren’t quite sure they would be able to; not after the Griffin.” Leon spoke up, as he pulled the ingredients for lunch out of the rations bag.

“The griffin?” Gwaine tended to the fire, while Percival was setting up the pot. Every few moments the larger man would get too close, so he just had to swat his leg.

Arthur made his way over, their refilled water in his arms, “This was all several years ago, it was actually the day that Merlin and I met Lancelot.”

“We don’t know where the Griffin came from, but it was destroying villages in Northern Camelot and heading towards the capital. Greenswood and Willowdale were two of the villages it all but destroyed on its way. The majority of their people were lost. ” Leon picked up the description, while passing the food over to Percival.

“How did you end up meeting Lancelot through that?” Percival butted in, taking the food so that he could start cooking.

It was Elyan who spoke up next, “According to Gwen’s description, Lancelot protected Merlin from the griffin, but got injured. In true Merlin fashion, he brought Lancelot back to Camelot as if he was a stray puppy. Like you Gwaine!”

“Wrong!” He exclaimed, “Arthur was the one who brought me back like a stray puppy.”

“You say that as if Arthur didn’t adopt that trait after years of Merlin doing it.” Leon laughed.

“Okay, yeah, just keep talking like I’m not even here.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Gwaine grinned, “Will do! Thanks for the permission!”

“I should have known that was coming.” His shoulders deflated, forcing his chin to drop to his chest. 

“You really should’ve.”

“Okay! Can we please get back to the Griffin story! The argument is only mildly entertaining.” Percival said.

“Okay! Okay,” Leon shook his head, sitting down next to Gwaine, “Lancelot gave Uther a fake seal of nobility so that he could be a knight, managed to actually become a knight-”

This time it was Elyan’s turn to interrupt, “Where did he get the fake seal? I remember hearing about that, but no one has ever provided an actual answer.” 

“Will you all stop interrupting me?” Was commented by Leon, but was ignored by the rest.

“I do not actually have the faintest idea; I would place my money on him having help from Merlin. It seems like his usual brand of trouble.” Arthur theorized, having thought about it a lot.

“Breaking laws of Camelot, without the slightest care that it could count as treason? That is definitely Merlin.” Gwaine agreed with the princess.

“Anyway!” ” Leon continued, not caring whether Gwaine had finished making his point or not, “Lancelot was discovered and then was banished from Camelot.”

“Lancelot and Gwaine, my only knights who were also banished from my kingdom.” Arthur joked, as he finished passing everyone’s water back to the respective owners. At least, Gwaine hoped they each got their own, they were almost identical after all, “I helped Lancelot escape from the dungeons-”

“I knew it!” Leon exclaimed, pointing a finger at their king, “We had been told that Lancelot escaped by himself, but I knew that you had helped him. You have such a bleeding heart for men who want to be knights.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, sitting down on the other side of Leon, “Regardless, myself and a group of knights went out to attack the Griffin; we all got knocked unconscious at some point. When I came to, Lancelot had slain the griffin. He left Camelot the next morning.”

A silence overcame the campfire, as the topic’s grief finally settled over the group. Gwaine looked into the fire, thinking back to his long gone friend. They had barely known each other for one year, but he… Lancelot was probably the one he had been closest with that year. They got along like fire and oxygen. Lancelot was willing to go along with his schemes, and put them out if they got too dangerous. Not long after Lancelot’s death, he had decided that it happened because they were too powerful together. Gwaine and someone who begrudgingly encourages him? Way too powerful.

He looked up as someone cleared their throat, and locked eyes with Percival. If Gwaine had to guess, he would assume that he and Percival had a similar expression, a soft smile but a distant look haunting his eyes. He could never forget that Lancelot was the one who brought Percival into their group. Ever since his death, Percival and Gwaine had gotten closer. Well, technically they had been close before Lancelot’s death, but not nearly as close as they were today. After his death, they helped each other grieve and realized that they had a lot more in common than he would have thought possible. Gwaine gave him a small nod, hoping that it provided the large man some comfort.

“The next time we saw him,” Arthur’s rough voice cut through the silence like a blade, “Was when Gwen had been kidnapped by Hengist, he was a bandit in Mercia.”

“Gwen was kidnapped by Hengist?” He felt his eyes widen, “I would absolutely kill someone just to hear that story. He was nothing but a nut job when I last met him.”

Leon raised an eyebrow to the brunette next to him, “First, I cannot believe I have to say this but, no killing people to hear a story. Second, and less importantly, when in the world did you meet Hengist?”

Percival butted in before Gwaine even had a chance to respond, letting out a hollow laugh, “I think we ought to make Gwaine write out an entire account of his life.”

“I double that vote,” Elyan nodded, and then turned his attention to Gwaine,“I still want to hear about when you traveled to the perilous lands.”

“We told you that story!” Gwaine could no longer hold back the laughter that escaped his lips.

“You most certainly have not.” Elyan argued with him.

“Yes we did! Arthur had a death wish, Merlin went and found me, then we went to save his sorry ass from wyverns!” He was surprised that Arthur did not say anything about the sorry ass comment. He turned to just see the blond glaring at him, so he figured sticking out his tongue was an appropriate reaction. While he was not glad he was now the focus of discussion, he was glad that it had moved away from a topic that caused much pain.

Leon, had turned his head to eat but now shot it back to stare at Gwaine,“Wyverns?” 

“You know that is not what I am talking about.” Good, Elyan was also in on his plan to ignore the noble.

“Then what, my dear Elyan, are you referring to?” Gwaine retorted with an extra shove to his shoulder.

Elyan groaned and moved to sit next to Percival, “Merlin told me about how you said that you have been to the Perilous lands before!”

“You traveled to the Perilous lands twice?”

“When was that!”

“No wonder you were able to find me without any maps.”

Gwaine could not help but start laughing his ass off, he had never truly shared his life story with anyone before. Certainly, no one was ever close enough to him that they demanded to know the stories he kept hidden. He never even let his sister know all of his tales, not wanting her to worry about his safety. She had heard possibly two that held danger, but the rest were just simple stories about doing physical labor for random nobles. Well, he supposed, every now and then he did tell tales about his life to everyone in a tavern; that never really counted though, they didn’t get the actual details. Just a brief overview of his time in a specific kingdom; usually those moments were focused on his romantic life. So yeah, no one really knew his life story.

“Okay! Okay! I hear you all.” He grinned and held up his hands in surrender, “Tell you what, I’ll tell you all… when Merlin asks me too.”

Arthur grabbed a glove and reached behind Leon to smack Gwaine upside his head, “You’re only saying that because you know that he’s too kind to push into a topic you have told him not to! He only ignores the word no when I am the one saying it.”

“Arthur, shush for a moment. Gwaine,” The mentioned man turned his attention to Elyan, “You have to swear on it, if Merlin asks then you will tell us!” 

“Fine, I swear on my honor and word as a knight. Or something like that.”

Elyan shifted his attention to Percival, “He never said that we were not allowed to prompt Merlin to ask about it.”

Percival gained a devilish grin as he started to fill up bowls with soup, “You are most right, Elyan. He never said we could not cause the question.”

He groaned and dropped his head down to his chest. Oh, oh he had made a grave mistake for not clarifying. Merlin may be respectful, but he was such an impish little man. If they worded it right, or got Gwen to pry about it, he was almost certain to ask about it. He would have to think about how he was going to word the story when he, unavoidably, would have to talk about it. He had to decide on which details he had to leave out, lest Leon decided to be a mother hen.

“Perc, can you just hand me a bowl so I can shove some food in my mouth and ignore any and all further annoying questions?” He pleaded, cupping his hands as he extended them.

With a roll of his eyes, Percival handed over a bowl to Gwaine, before clarifying, “You are lucky that I was just about to pass it out to everyone. Otherwise I wouldn’t have handed anything to you.”

“Wait, so Gwaine being annoying means he gets lunch first? That is so unfair.” Elyan pouted at Percival.

“No, he is just saying that it is because I am annoying. Really, he means that I get it first because I am such a charmer, that even that lump of muscle can not resist me.” He said and started to eat his soup, as the other bowls were passed out to everyone else. 

“That is absolutely not what I meant.” Percival shot back at him, passing out the last bowl, before sitting down to eat.

Gwaine could almost feel Leon judging all of them for arguing like children. At least, he assumed that was what the feeling was. Perhaps he was making a mental list of everything they were saying to interrogate them about during training. That also seemed like something Leon would enjoy. As he continued to eat, he cut his eyes over to look at the blond closest to him. He was staring intently into the bowl, with his brows furrowed together. Gwaine could not decide whether it looked like Leon was concentrating or constipated. 

He lost track of where the conversation was, but it seemed like Percival and Elyan were arguing. Were they actually arguing? Maybe they were sternly agreeing. While that seemed like something the two of them would do, he was not quite how possible that was. Well, obviously it was completely possible, but it did not happen very often. That was not true either actually, Merlin and Arthur were always sternly agreeing. They lovingly bickered like an old married couple. At least he assumed, he had never met an old married couple that still loved each other. Wow, he was really contradicting himself right now.

Wait, did his sister and her husband count as an old married couple? How old was she now anyways? How old was her husband? He had not written to her since before he met Arthur, he should probably try and send a letter to her some time. No, that would be a bad idea, she would kill him for losing contact. She would kill him, then find a way to bring him back to life so that she could lecture him, before killing him again for good measure.

 He shook his head, his sister was not a topic he liked to think about often. It was just easier for him to joke that she was an evil old toad, instead of getting into their… complicated relationship. They were some level of middle ground of sibling closeness. When they were kids, they probably acted more like Elyan and Gwen; nowadays they were closer to a young version of Morgana and Arthur. He never actually met a young Morgana, but Merlin had told him plenty of stories. Actually, whenever Merlin spoke of it, he always spoke with a tone of guilt. He should ask him about that.

“Alright! You lot, finish up, we need to wash the dishes and then get back onto the road! Especially if we are trying to make it back to Camelot by sundown.” Arthur instructed them, standing up and handing his dish over to Elyan. When Merlin was not on a patrol with them, they had to split up the duties between everyone.

Gwaine hurried to shove the rest of his lunch into his mouth, before putting his own bowl on top of the now growing pile in Elyan’s hands.  He stood up, and reached his hands up behind his head, stretching out from where he had been slouched. He followed Elyan and Leon with his eyes as they headed down to the creek, setting his arms back by his side.

Percival’s cloak was draped across one of the logs, probably so it did not get caught on fire while he was trying to put it out, “It feels strange to be on a patrol without Merlin.”

“Oh yeah,” He nodded, shifting towards Percival, “Although, our patrols are strange already.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, what other kingdom do you know that, first off, frequently travels with only five to ten knights while with the king?”

Percival nodded at that, his brows furrowing together, “I have not experienced it personally, but I would assume that very few would have so few guards while with royals.”

“Especially when that royal is the king, who does not have a… heir… huh.”

“What is it Gwaine?”

“Do you think if both Gwen and Arthur died, Elyan would inherit the throne? He is the queen’s brother after all, and I do not believe that Morgana would be allowed to inherit it.”

Percival stopped in his movements, tilting his head to the side as he thought. They both turned their heads to look in the direction of where Elyan went. “Gwaine, go find Arthur. I need an answer to that question.”

He let out a sharp laugh, dropping his head with a shake, “I have no idea where the princess wandered off to. He just got up and disappeared.”

“Arthur is great at many things, but he is not an ‘up and disappear’ type of man.” Percival snorted, “You just don’t want to go look for him.”

“I suppose you are right; although, you are only right by this much.” He held up his hand, positioning his fingers as close together as he could without them actually touching.

He rolled his eyes, standing up after the fire was out, knocking into Gwaine with his shoulder. That managed to cause him to stumble forward, turning his head back so that he could cast a playful glare at the taller man. Gwaine smacked Percival’s bicep, as he walked further.

“Hey, Percival-” He started turning to look at him, before the man got out of arms length. 

“Yeah?” 

“We should… we should do something for Lancelot later this year.” He suggested.

Percival got the same far away look in his eyes that he had earlier, before slowly nodding, “Something like a memorial for him?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “So he is not forgotten.”

A pained smile spread across Percival’s face, nodding, “I think that he would like that. It should be in one of the knights frequented areas.”

Gwaine nodded, and reached over to pat Percival’s shoulder, “We should work something out once we are back in Camelot, and then we can bring it up to Arthur and Gwen.”

“Gwen would like that.”

He turned away now, and walked over towards where the horses had been tied to a branch near a pile of food. The pile was almost completely gone now, so they must have been hungry. He would have to remember to give Gringolet extra food once he got him back to his stables. He cleaned up whatever was left of it, and placed the extra in one of the saddle bags so that they had as much as possible for if they got hungry again later.

Gwaine untied the reins and set his hand on Gringolet’s forehead, moving it up a bit more to give him a scratch. He smiled as Gringolet nibbled at his shirt, he loved his mischievous war horse. He was so ridiculous and perfect. Gringolet had been with him through almost everything, and he trusted him with his life. Should he trust a horse with his life? Probably not, but he did not really care about what he should do. He never did what he should do; and neither did Gringolet.

He moved to his saddle bags, fishing some treats out to hold them up to Gringolet. He let him eat, as he watched the knights all go to their own horses, preparing to ride the last leg of the journey. They were really pushing how many miles they should be riding in one day; they would be lucky if they made it back to Camelot without another stop. Well, they would need to stop for dinner at some point, but that did not really count, did it? It probably did. So, they would be lucky if they made it back to Camelot without two stops. He was positive that he and Gringolet would be able to make it, but that was because his horse had near-sorcery levels of stamina. 

After the treats were finished he went back to the saddle, double checking that all the straps were adjusted properly. Once he was satisfied that Gringolet and him would both be as comfortable as possible, he lifted his foot and hooked it into the stirrup. He grabbed onto the horn and pulled himself up on top. He reached down to pat his shoulder, before sitting up straight. He steered over towards where Arthur was getting onto his own horse.

“Your majesty, I have a very, very important question.”

The blond looked at him, suspicion traced into every line in his face, “What.”

“If you and Gwen died, would Elyan inherit the throne?” He asked, leaning forward to rest his forearms on top of the saddle horn.

That caused Arthur to tense up, sat on top of the horse but without the reins in his hands. He looked like he was going through every stage of grief within a series of seconds; his eyes were fixated on a tree, as if it would be able to give him all the answers he needed. Gwaine wanted to burst out laughing but managed to hold himself back. Just barely. Oh, how he wished there was a painter here to capture the ridiculous look on his face.

“Gwaine.”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Shut up.”