Those Who Waited (BBC Merlin)

Chapter 19: Over Time

"There are many beliefs that the characters reincarnated a few times over the centuries, coming forth as particularly brave soldiers leading armies, or mysterious advisors to kings. One particular story is of a young man in the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in the first years of the nineteenth century," the man explained, smiling fondly at the memory. Gwen mirrored her professor's small, faint grin, her cheek resting in her palm as she sat in lecture.

"This young man, in the stories, jumped seemingly out of nowhere into the front of the Allied army and spearheaded victory in the final battle. Truly, he was in front of the generals, and the white flag was waved only when his sword hovered before the necks of the opposing side. And then, as is in such legends, he was gone. The storytellers name him Gwaine," the elderly man finished wistfully, and Gwen felt her grin widen.

An elbow nudged her arm as a playful scoff reached her ears, and Gwen turned with a mute sigh to meet her friend's smirk. Bridget, like Gwen, was majoring in Classics in their junior year of university, though she claimed to be far less "downright obsessed" with them than Gwen. Where Gwen's mind became lost in the hallways of ancient castles, swirling over chaotic battlefields, and enveloping scriptures etched on stone walls, Bridget's mind put on delicate glasses and translated said scriptures. The two worked well together.

As soon as Gwen's fingers met the air above her head, the professor was looking expectantly at her. She grinned. "Sir, it was that same 'unnamed' man who taunted Napoleon in a bar, and sparked the man's need to compensate by taking over Europe, was it not?" she mocked, but the elder man's head tipped in laughter. His chortles mixed with her light giggles, and a few other halfhearted chuckles from the hall. Gwen thought she heard another laugh, quieter but genuine among her classmates. She didn't try to look around for it though, the professor's attention still being on her.

"In many stories, Gwaine is quite a troublemaker," the professor agreed affectionately.

On Wednesdays, Gwen's classes were over after this lecture, so she and Bridget sauntered out of the building with their arms linked, feet automatically carrying them to the bench their group of friends met at. It was on the edge of the courtyard where most of the school buildings were, in the grass, which was bright but comfortably dry this early in the fall semester. The two settled on the ground in front of the two other students already on the stone, Bridget not yet done teasing her.

"Only you would make jokes about fictional medieval characters as if you actually got on with them personally," the girl rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. Gwen just smirked proudly, but it was ruined by a yawn.

The one sitting in the middle of the bench, Tony, frowned in confusion. "You two just got out of that History Through Stories lecture, right? What's our Gwen gone and said now?" he asked patiently, recognizing their antics. Bridget relayed the story, and their other friends laughed.

"Ah, but Bridget, she does know them! Don't you, Guinevere?" the girl beside Tony, Ginnifer, giggled at using Gwen's full name.

Gwen felt her ears and cheeks heat, and brushed a few dark curls down shyly. This caused Bridget to laugh even louder and loop an arm around Gwen's shoulders and hug her clumsily.

Gwen went to retort, but instead of words, a yawn broke through her lips. Covering her hand politely, she waited for her breath to even out as Bridget leaned back from her embrace and frowned.

"You've been so tired lately, Gwen. What's going on?"

"She's right, you're usually quite pretty without the constant yawns and unconvincing make-up under your eyes," Tony teased, though his face showed concern. Gwen shrugged, zipping her bag fully closed and wrapping the strap on her shoulder.