Hunger Games: Fandom Style

Insurgent (Part 1)

Gwen had stood frozen while the fight between Arthur and Will had waged endlessly on. Only now could she return shakily to the kitchen.
He was safe. For a little while longer at least. What if Will betrayed him? What if he killed Arthur as soon as his guard was down?
I'll look after him, Gwen.
Merlin had promised her. But what could Merlin do?
Morgana held a sword to Gwen's throat. "I'm sorry, Gwen, but I can never let that happen." Gwen felt helpless terror bubble up in her chest -
Morgana flew backward, flung by some invisible hand, and disappeared over the railing. Merlin stood at the other end of the corridor. For a moment, there was something almost dangerous about him. A hint of gold marred his eyes.
Then it was gone. "What happened?" she asked fearfully.
He looked over the side. "I don't know."
Gwen did. She watched the powerful set of his shoulders slowly fade into a more relaxed posture, watched the powerful fury in his eyes give way to a familiar foolish grin.
But Gwen knew and said nothing.
She wasn't sure who she was trying to protect: Merlin or herself.
She gasped, rushing out the kitchen door into the reassuringly sane air of the outside world. The visions were getting worse. She could still feel the cold touch of the sword at her throat.
She leaned over, gasps turning to sobs. What was wrong with her?
She could hear someone running down the alleyway behind the house. She straightened hurriedly, just in time to see Gwaine skidding to a stop in front of her.
"What's happened? Arthur's not - " Gwaine's face turned grey at the thought.
"No," she assured him, wiping away tears quickly. "No, nothing like that." Why was Gwaine so panicked? He and Arthur had never been particularly close. "Just being silly."
Gwaine breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good." He looked at her more closely. "I came to steal a pastry, but I'm guessing this is a bad time."
Gwen laughed. "There's the Gwaine I know. I'll get you something."
He swept her a bow. "Thank you, princess."
"A princess shouldn't have to lump her washing around."
"Then it's a good thing I'm a serving girl, not a princess."
Gwen went rigid. Not now, not now, not Gwaine too. Not after last night - Just thinking about last night's nightmare brought the visions on again.
She stood before the remaining knights in the Great Hall. It felt cold. So very, very cold.
The great oak doors burst open. Percival walked in. His head was bowed low over his burden.
Gwaine's pale, cold body lay in his arms.
Gwen had slid down the wall into the street without realizing it. Cold tears trembled and fell. She pressed her hands to her mouth.
Gwaine was kneeling beside her. "You all right?"
"You're dead," she whispered. "You were dead."
He nodded. "Which time?"
She looked up at him. "What?"
He sat beside her. "Well, there was that first time, of course, when that witch caught me. I'm not proud of that one, and I'm not sure Percival's ever entirely gotten past it either. Then there was that time in Sherwood, back when Percival was calling himself John, and I went and got myself hung after Robin died. That was a bad one, but I don't recall you being there to watch it. Although, admittedly, my memory of the event's a little foggy. You might have been in the crowd. There were oh, half a dozen fights for England after that. Big battles mostly. They kinda blend together. Agincourt was pretty good, but Lance and I were on opposite sides for that one. We each did the other one in though, so I guess we came out even. Then there was that whole affair with the American Revolution - I was a Patriot, by the way, still not sure how that worked - but I managed to survive to old age for once. Weren't you a spy of some sort in that one? Thought I remembered you and Elyan from around then." He didn't wait for an answer. "Missed all the excitement in France, of course, but Lance has got some stories to tell, if you're interested. After that there were the three World Wars, where the sole good thing was that we were at least all on the same side for once - you actually got to fight in the last one, that must have been a relief - the apocalypse, the founding of Panem - which did not turn out like we'd hoped - the Dark Days, and now this. I'm sure I'm forgetting something. Merlin says some of our more traumatic lives tend to get forgotten, and frankly, they all started to blend together after a while. When I can remember them, that is." He paused. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"
She was staring at him.
"You're not crazy," he said gently. "All that stuff you're seeing, it was real. You really were a serving maid in Camelot. You really did marry Arthur which says a lot more for his taste than yours. And it really did all go down in flames despite everyone's best efforts. We just kept coming back. Trying to make things right. Waiting for Arthur to show back up. Merlin's helped as he can." He shook his head. "Poor guy. Got to the point that when I limped into the medical tent where he was working in the Third World War and told him I thought I was dying, he said 'What, again?' then took one look at me and said I'd be fine, he'd seen me die and this wasn't what it looked like." He laughed a bit. "He was right. 'Course it wasn't really a joke to him. When I really was dying in that war, he grabbed me by the shirt and told me he was saving my life whether I liked it or not, because he wasn't going to watch me die again. He used magic to save me in front of about twenty witnesses. He didn't even care that someone taped him on their phone. Being immortal's not all it's cracked up to be."
She was still staring at him. The memories were responding though.
Chains in the darkness while a storm rolled.
A wet street at midnight and letters that could help the British cause and buy her brother his freedom.
Crouching in a tunnel while bombs burst above, praying for Elyan, fighting across the channel.
Lancelot pulling her into the helicopter while shots rang out below. Gwaine laughed from the pilot seat. "Get ready for a bumpy ride!" Lancelot smiled at her and helped her strap in.
The same helicopter. A different day. No more smiles. No more laughter. A jolt, then searing flame.
Merlin blocking a broken road her group was trying to travel down. "Not this way. Come with me. I've got supplies. Even water." Her parched throat ached at the thought.
Hope shone around twelve faces as the Capital was raised.
Defiance shouted from hundreds of throats as they ran forward in one last hopeless charge. Where was Merlin, they needed Merlin -
The bullet that had slammed into her body in the memory jerked her back to reality.
Gwaine offered her a hand up. "It gets easier," he promised. "In the meantime, there's something you should see."
She followed him to the fence. He counted sections silently, then nodded and strolled right up to it, as if the guard stations weren't even there.
He threw a grin back at her. "Merlin," he said, as if that were the only explanation that was needed. Maybe it was.
Beyond it, a building that might have erupted from stone hidden deep within the earth gleamed ostentatiously. This time she said it the same time he did: "Merlin."
Gwen stared wonderingly inside. Weapons and body armor lined the walls. Food, water, and other basic supplies stretched out in neat rows of carefully labelled boxes.
"You could fit a hovercraft in here."
Gwaine grinned. "That's the idea."
She shot a glance at him. "All of this . . . you could start a revolution."
"Yes," he said seriously. "We could."
"That's what this is. Who's leading it? You? Merlin?"
He shook his head. "Merlin's in charge for now. But he's made it very clear he only considers himself , , , regent, you could say."
"You're waiting for Arthur."
"We're waiting for Arthur. Well, him and the signal." The boyish grin was back. "There's something else you should see." He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the endless maze of crates.
"How many of the others know?"
"Everyone, now."
"Even Uther?"
"Well, maybe not him."
"Elyan?"
Gwaine guessed at the cause of the question. "He was afraid you would think he was doing some kind of drug and that he was getting into trouble."
Which was unfortunately true. Even now - "Oh," she breathed.
A beautiful oaken table rested on the floor. Names of ancient kings and kingdoms decorated it in gold. Tall chairs surrounded it.
"The round table," Gwaine said with quiet pride.
In its center rested a sword.