For Grace. I hope you enjoy!
Merlin watches in horror as Lancelot turns back to the veil. He tries to stop the knight, screaming as his magic flairs to save him. It's too late, though, as Lancelot makes the final step.
He feels his magic settle in a way it hasn't since the veil was torn. He doesn't have to turn around to know that the Cailleach is gone. He falls to his knees, ignoring the pain that accompanies the motion.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, staring at the spot that Lancelot once stood, but it's long enough that his knee protests. There's talking behind him that he can't make out. Then there's a hand on his shoulder, heavy and warm.
"Merlin, what happened? Where is the Gatekeeper? Where's Lancelot?"
He debates whether or not to ignore them long enough that they speak again. "Merlin?"
A sob comes from deep within Merlin's chest. "I couldn't- I couldn't stop him."
"Come on. Up you get," Arthur says, pulling at Merlin.
Merlin stands and immediately hunches over, heaving. Nothing comes up no matter how much he heaves. He straightens, taking several deep breaths to settle himself.
Arthur hasn't moved from beside him. "There is nothing more we can do here. We should head home."
Merlin looks back at the space where the veil once stood one last time before heading to the boat. Arthur and the knights aren't too far behind him.
They make camp on the shores. Arthur directs the knights to do Merlin's usual chores; they set up camp, collect firewood, gather food for dinner, and feed and water the horses. Merlin sits with him back against a tree as they do this, staring at the ground in front of him.
Arthur sits next to him somberly. There's a comfort in the silence, knowing that Arthur isn't going to push for answers that he's undoubtedly wanting.
The knights return from their tasks, equally as doleful. Elyan cooks stew as the others sit around him. There is no laughing or jokes or stories; there is only silence.
Sometime later, a bowl is pressed into his hands, but Merlin shakes his head, passing it to Arthur instead. He knows that he won't be able to stomach food. He's thankfully not pressed on the matter.
When night falls, Arthur sets up watch shifts. It leaves Merlin without a watch. He doesn't think on that too long as he closes his eyes. The adrenaline that rushed through his veins earlier has faded, leaving him exhausted. Sleep comes surprisingly easy.
A hand on his shoulder and an increasingly frantic call of his name rouses him from the nightmares. He blinks awake. There still is enough firelight that he can see Arthur staring at him, worry clouding his blue eyes.
Merlin scrambles away from him, sitting up as quickly as he can manage. He feels the tear tracks down his face before he wipes the evidence away. He looks around to see if he woke the others, but they are still sleeping.
"Sorry," he croaks.
Arthur just turns to look at the dying fire. He's quiet for a long time, long enough that Merlin could believe he fell back to sleep, if not for how rigidly he sits. "It's not your fault, you know?"
"I should've stopped him," Merlin counters fiercely. Guilt claws its way up his throat, choking him. "It should've been me."
"That's where you're wrong; it should've been me. It was my burden to bear and mine alone," Arthur says softly.
"It wasn't your life that the Cailleach was meant to take. She's the one that sent you flying backwards to ensure it," Merlin whispers, the lie falling so easily off his tongue. "And when I offered my life, she told me that it wasn't mine that would heal the veil. That's when I -"
He breaks off, his whole body shaking as he cries. Arthur told him once that no man was worth his tears, but he thinks dimly that Lancelot is. He's grateful when the prince says nothing as he sobs.
He cries for a long time, long enough for the fire to die and Arthur to feed it more wood. Finally, he takes a deep breath and calms himself. He knows Lancelot wouldn't want tears shed over him but he feels the loss of his friend and confidante acutely.
Merlin wipes his eyes again. He turns to look at Arthur. The prince is sitting just as rigidly as he was. He looks exhausted, and Merlin wouldn't be surprised if he didn't try to sleep before his watch. No doubt the blond is grief stricken as he is. He pushes away his own anguish to address Arthur.
"You know it wasn't your fault either," Merlin says, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "This was Morgana's and Morgana's alone."
"Yet Lancelot since paid the price I was meant to pay," Arthur replies. He doesn't look away from the fire as he speaks.
"That was his decision," Merlin says. "He was willing to give up his life so that you didn't have to."
Arthur huffs out a soft, humorless laugh. "You would think that I was used to people dying for me."
He swallows thickly, not saying how he believes that it wasn't Arthur the knight gave his life for. That would just create more questions that he doesn't have answers for. Instead, he says, "I think it's better that you're not."
The prince turns to face him for the first time since he shook him awake. There's genuine curiosity when he asks, "Why is that?"
"I think it's what makes you a great king. You care about each and every person in your kingdom. It pains you to see them suffering, to know they are dying. You have never felt comfortable with sending out your people to die for you. This," Merlin says, waving his hand around, "has shown your people that you would risk your life to save theirs. That's why they are loyal to you; you prove that you are a king worthy of it."
Arthur makes a surprised noise before he pokes the fire one last time. He stands and grabs his sword. "Get some sleep, Merlin. We start our journey back at first light."
Merlin nods and watches as Arthur goes to send Leon to bed. The overwhelming guilt he felt has become bearable just by talking with Arthur. He settles down to sleep again. Just before he falls asleep, he vows to double his efforts to protect Arthur. He won't let Lancelot's sacrifice be in vain. He won't lose another friend.