Guinevere's Rules

Rule Eleven: Always Set the Record Straight

When I eventually woke up, this time for real, I found that I was in my room. The light had filtered in through the windows, warming my eyelids softly. I blinked and looked around. Arthur was on a chair, the knights were all passed out on my couch, snoring lightly and in uncomfortable positions. In a wooden chair sat a man I had only seen once, in a flashback. 

He was bent over but didn't look any less powerful. I froze when I saw him, which I think is fair. The last time I saw him he was almost dead, and he was a grumpy old man. Now he was youthful, maybe a year or so older than me in looks. Of course, I knew he was nearing nine-hundred plus years my senior but it was hard to believe when none of it was on his face. 

Gone were the clothes that the old Merlin preferred, warm and comfortable. Now he was in warrior clothes, the ones I had grown used to seeing. They fit him snugly, but not so it was uncomfortable. 

It almost felt like looking at a picture of someone you know, when they were young, and that awkward moment you realized they were exactly your type and you so would have flirted with them. 

But not like that at all because I wouldn't ever consider flirting with Merlin. Absolutely not. Not in a thousand years, not in a million! He was my mentor! 

Shifting in bed, suddenly not wanting to stay under the covers any longer, I paused when I realized I was in a dressing gown. 

Meaning someone had changed my clothes. 

Blushing furiously, I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed with a huff, only to stumble and have to grip the bedpost for support. 

The commotion woke the seven men in my room. It was almost funny, watching Lamorak and Percival fall right on top of each other while Tristan tumbled off the couch and on his ass and Gawaine and Lancelot tripped over their friends on the floor. Arthur merely blinked awake and rose to his feet. 

I don't know if Merlin was funny upon waking but I felt his hand on my arm almost immediately, his other going around my waist, "Gwen, you need to rest."

I let him lead me back to the bed, choosing to sit up, leaning against the headboard rather than lay down. Once I was positioned, I gawked at Merlin, "You're young." I commented in shock. 

"You know who I am?" Merlin asked, tilting his head. 

"I saw younger you in a flashback, which now just looks like you. Man, my head is so confused by all of this." I mumbled, shaking my head as I tried to understand what happened. "How are you young? What happened?" The men in front of me shared awkward glances, none of them wanting to tell me what had happened. "Guys, seriously, what happened?" 

Eventually, Merlin huffed and took a seat in the chair he was dozing in when I woke up. "When you healed me, you tapped into to your natural skillset, which everyone is born with. Then, from there it was basically a transfer of magik. You gave me  your magik and healed my wounds." 

"Does that usually end in reversing peoples age back to their prime?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tristan snorted, covering his smirk with his hand. Having none of it, I grabbed a pillow and launched it at his face, getting chuckles out of the rest of the knights. "No, it doesn't. Your magik skillset, it's rare. Almost never seen in Albion. You kept going after I was already healed, which normally you can't do but probably because of the nature of who I am, it worked. You reversed my bodies age, almost transferred all of your magik - which is your life force - to me." 

No one was laughing now. I felt cold, knowing I was probably close to death. "If I hadn't stopped you, you would have died." Merlin finished speaking heavily.