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Gwaine is hunting with Merlin and Arthur, near one of Camelot’s borders, when they’re set upon by a small invading force. They’re outnumbered ten to one - fifteen to one if you don’t count Merlin - and the battle is going horribly. Gwaine’s trying his best to stay protectively close to Merlin, but Arthur’s been lost in the mess of men and swords, and there is no way they’re all getting out of this one alive.
And then Merlin’s eyes glow gold and lightning rains from the sky and their enemies fall, dead, to the ground.
Gwaine hardly has time to be surprised (mostly by how unsurprised he is, if that makes any sense) before he spots Arthur. He’s untouched by the lightning, and now he whirls around and storms towards Gwaine and Merlin. Fortunately, the gold has disappeared from Merlin’s eyes by the time Arthur is close enough to see.
“Who did that?” Arthur growls, glaring at Gwaine and Merlin. “Which one of you did that?”
Merlin is Gwaine’s oldest and best friend. Gwaine would die for Merlin without a second thought. That’s maybe not saying as much as it should, because Gwaine loves fights with horrible odds and it could be argued that he’d die for just about anything, including complete strangers in bars who just happened to have pretty friends. But. Gwaine would like to live for Merlin, with Merlin, and even though he can see Merlin is even more smitten with Arthur than Gwaine is with him, he loves Merlin thoroughly.
Gwaine wonders if any of the three of them know what Arthur would do if Merlin admitted to the sorcery. He doubts it. He also doubts Arthur is in any mood to be rational. If Merlin speaks up, he’s going to get hurt, one way or another. Gwaine knows Merlin would be miserable if he didn’t have Arthur - it's clear for anyone to see.
Merlin is badly disguising his terror at the way Arthur is glaring between them. Arthur looks furious, his hand tight on the hilt of his sword - although, Gwaine notes, he did put it away between the end of the battle and turning to yell at them.
Gwaine will be sad, for a while, without Merlin and Arthur and the knights who are his brothers, but he’ll get over it.
So Gwaine steps forward with a cocky grin. “That was me,” he says.
Only now does Arthur draw his sword.
Gwaine laughs. “You can’t take me when I’m not using magic,” he boasts. “What makes you think you have a chance now?”
“You’re breaking the laws you’ve sworn to uphold,” Arthur says, voice shaking. “I don’t have a choice, Gwaine.”
“You really don’t,” Gwaine agrees. “That’s the border,” he adds, pointing east where a river runs. “I’ll be over it in no time.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Arthur says, raising his sword.
“Arthur,” Merlin starts, voice tearful.
“It’s all right, Merlin,” Gwaine interrupts, loudly. “Princess can try and stop me, but I’ll be enjoying better ale than you can find in Camelot by nightfall.”
He steps over to Merlin and kisses his cheek - mostly because he wants to kiss Merlin on the lips but he thinks Arthur would run him through if he did, but partly so he can whisper into Merlin’s ear.
“He didn’t draw his sword till I said it wasn’t you,” Gwaine murmurs. “But if you tell him and he kicks you out, you can come have a drink with me anytime.”
Merlin launches forward to throw his arms around Gwaine. “I’m sorry,” he whispers back. “I’ll miss you. And thank you.”
Gwaine hugs him back, trying to memorize Merlin’s scent and how his thin waist feels and the way his neckerchief tickles Gwaine’s throat. And then he pulls away because every second is making it harder to leave.
Arthur’s still got his sword out, but his eyes flicker to Merlin.
“Just let him go, Arthur,” Merlin says.
Arthur’s face tightens, but he finally nods at Gwaine.
“Arthur,” Gwaine says, “It’s been an honour.”
And he turns towards the border and doesn’t look back.