Hello people. So, I made a wonderfully fantastic mistake. I watched Merlin. Like all of it. Over the course of 5 days. Oops. It was so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so good and i love it with a passion. The end of it had me sobbing like such a baby and I could not handle it at all so here I am. Fanfiction is my way of continuing the story and making myself feel better emotionally. While the show was ended with absolute brilliance and I can't complain about quality, my heart may never recover. This is my attempt to recover.
This is my very firstest Merlin fanfiction so woohoo! That's exciting!
I am new to this fandom and want to do it justice so please honor me with your feedback and suggestions.
This is a story that bounces back and forth between the time directly following Arthur's death and London in 2012. It will probably primarily follow Guinevere's journey in both, however, it will be charged with some serious merlin-arthur feels in later chapters. I hope you enjoy this.
Ever After Again
Camelot – Sometime around 500 AD
The king is dead, long live the queen!
The words bounced around in her head as Guinevere took her seat at the round table, staring vaguely into the distance, gripping the sides of the chair for support.
The king is dead.
Three days. It had been three days since her coronation. Ceremonies, banquets and tournaments had been held in her honor, as if somehow the celebration would mask the tragedy of a king lost in battle. Still, her heart continued to pound so painfully in her chest that she couldn't sleep at night or concentrate during the day.
She shifted her feet uncomfortably under the table, suddenly aware of the eyes searching her. She would have hoped to be used to it by now, having been queen for some time, but this was different. She was surrounded on all sides by them, the men whose trust her husband had earned. In his absence they now turned to her.
No longer could she look to Arthur for guidance, for a shoulder to lean on, to cry on. How unlucky it was that the one person whose support she needed most desperately to soothe her grief was the person she had lost.
As the room once again came into focus, Guinevere mumbled the necessary words that would commence the meeting. Her knuckles were white from the strength with which she was clutching the sides of her chair, the chair that had once been his, that should still be his.
Dead.
Weeks had crawled by, as she had been waiting patiently for news of her husband's return. The pile of unsigned papers had piled up. When a month had passed with no word from them, even with search parties venturing far beyond the lines of Albion, Arthur was declared dead. Any hope that the king might have somehow survived had been pushed to the back of her mind as the weight of the crown sunk into her hair.
Camelot had been the center of a peaceful nation, even as they had all been in the dark about whether or not Arthur would return. Now that she had risen, or in her mind fallen, to the thrown out of necessity, other leaders were beginning to question whether Camelot was still a worthy ally.
Now she sat, listening to the knights around her argue on which of Camelot's borders were most in need of protection.
"We should double guards and secure the inner circle and the castle from intruders." Sir Leon stated. "There is no telling who may be plotting against the queen. Without the protection of Arthur as a symbol of strength, Camelot looks weak."
She looked at the knight in alarm at his suggestion, then noticed others around the table nodding in agreement.
"I won't have myself being cut off from the lower town and the surrounding villages because of threat's we don't even know exist." Guinevere finally forced herself to join the discussion. "Besides, hiding from our problems won't make them go away it will just make our unknown enemies feel even more confident."
"But surely you understand, you are Camelot's only ruler and need to be protected." Percival argued.
"I am a queen not a china doll." She replied, feeling anger bubble up inside her. Everyone had been treating her like she was some sort of commodity. She was seen as invaluable at least, but was none-the-less objectified constantly and was on the verge of exploding from all the people breathing down her neck.
She had put up with the insanity of being queen for Arthur's sake, because she loved him so dearly that she had been willing to withstand anything, but she found herself lost without him at her side. She knew that the precautions were necessary but she would not allow her protection to come at the expense of the citizens of Camelot.
She realized that her outburst had caused a most of the table to squirm uncomfortably and was about to apologize when the scrapping of wood on the floor caught her attention and she turned her attention the knight who was now addressing her.
"Permission to make a suggestion, your majesty." He asked, his deep brown eyes peering into hers with curiosity. He ran a hand over his slicked back hair, which was dark to match his eyes but sprinkled with gray.
She furrowed her eyebrow. It was not typical for the knights to ask her for permission to speak. She shrugged and nodded. "Permission granted, Sir…" She hesitated, unable to assign a name to this man's face, squinting at his light mustache and confident gaze.
"Sir Maleagant." He smiled gently at her, then addressed the entire room. "While the possibility of Her Majesty appearing weak to both our allies and enemies in inevitable now that Arthur has passed."
"King Arthur may he rest in peace." Everyone spoke in unison, as they always did when the late king was mention.
Maleagant coughed and continued. "Yes, it cannot be denied that Camelot is in a fragile state in the eyes of others. However, I believe that there may be other ways of illustrating strength that do not require acts of defense that may endanger citizens."
Guinevere nodded slowly in agreement.
"There are peaceful, non-militaristic ways to address this problem, which I believe would be supported fully by the king, if he were able to give input."
"King Arthur may he rest in peace."
She swallowed hard as the voices chorused around her in honor of Arthur.
"And what solution would that propose, Sir Maleagant?" Questioned Percival skeptically.
"Ah," The other knight bowed his head knowingly, then looked up to meet the queen's eyes, clasping his hands in front of him. "It is no secret that Camelot is without an heir."
The queen tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow curiously, unsure of where this was heading.
"And her majesty is without a husband."
Now, as she was starting to realize where Maleagant was going with this, she opened her mouth to say something but closed it, doing her best to keep an open mind.
"Perhaps, if there were to be a king, Camelot would not look so weak in the eyes of others." The man bit his lips, obviously aware of the weight in the words he had just spoken.
Her eyes widened in shock. There was a brief stunned silence as the entire table processed Maleagant's words.
Guinevere blinked a few times, her eyes blurring over. "Are you suggesting that I remarry?" She asked, her heart beat suddenly beginning to pound in her ears again. She felt as if the temperature in the room had suddenly skyrocketed as sweat collected on her forehead and her hands resumed their tight hold on the seat beneath her.
"For the sake of Camelot's security, I am proposing that you seek bondage with a worthy, well connected man in order to secure the safety of yourself and your people." Maleagent frowned, trying to salvage the bluntness of his early suggestion.
She tried not to hyperventilate, breathing slowly through her nose as her vision blurred in and out and the room began to spin. It was too soon, wasn't it? Maybe Camelot needed a new king, but she was far from ready to find a new husband.
"Your majesty, are you quite well?" Sir Leon asked.
"Yes, I'm fine." She lied, steadying herself and looking up from the spot she had been staring at on the table.
"Perhaps, Sir Maleagant has a point." Leon tread carefully, cautious not to disturb her even more. "Marriage would both secure Camelot's short term safety and allow for long term security in the form of an heir."
She clenched her teeth and lost feeling in her fingers from gripping the chair with so much force.
"Yes!" Another voice chimed in. "You could even marry another Pendragon in order to continue in the royal bloodline."
The queen's jaw dropped and she felt and vile taste in the back of her throat. She thought she might vomit, when the door swung open and in burst the closest thing to the person she wanted most to see.
"Merlin!" She gasped.
London – Fall 2012
Beep beep beep.
A woman groaned and rolled over in her bed, reaching towards her bedside table for the alarm clock.
Beep beep.
She swatted around blindly several times before giving up, lifting her head and forcing her eyes open.
4:00
The flashing light on the clock seemed to poke her eyes with its brightness. She pushed herself up in bed and ran a hand through her messy hair, which, to her dismay, was flying out in all directions. She pushed the covers off of her bare legs and shivered as the cold air washed over them.
Beep beep.
She noted that, with the changing weather, she should stop wearing shorts to bed. Climbing out of bed, she yawned and stretched, releasing any tension or aches she had developed in her sleep.
Beep bee-.
Finally, she clapped a hand over the clock and it silenced. She sighed at the thought of another day ahead of her, her eyes rolling up to look in the mirror above her bed and her hand immediately going again to her hair. The curls, though she loved them, had burdened her since what felt like the dawn of time with their unruly behavior.
Her room came into full focus around her as she stumbled over to the shower.
Upon emerging, dripping wet, but much more awake then when she had first risen, she brushed a comb through the curls, watching them slowly take a much more manageable form. Wiping a whole in the steam that had covered her bathroom mirror and running a finger over the dark circles under her eyes, she shrugged and left the bathroom.
A heavy snoring through the thin walls told her that her brother was still asleep in the room next door. She shook her head and finished drying off before, yawning yet again and slumping slowly over to her closet. Dressing for work was not exciting for her, in nothing but a plain white button down underneath a black suit.
She put on light makeup, pulled her hair back with a simple clip, then stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror, forcing a smile. She brushed one of the flyaway curls over her ear and let out a breath.
She glanced at the clock.
4:45
Time to go. She grabbed her briefcase, off the floor by the door and walked out into the kitchen area, where her brother was still snoring peacefully on the couch.
So maybe it was sort of a kitchen, living room, all-in-one area.
She smiled lightly as he rolled over and his face was smashed humorously against the pillow. Tiptoeing over to him, so as not to disturb his sleep, she bend over and pulled his blanket up a little higher so that it covered his bare chest. Like brother like sister, she supposed, chuckling at his lack of weather appropriate sleepwear.
She kissed his forehead and maneuvered over the stacks of magazines, books, sheet music and other papers that surrounded the couch. She had been happy to take in her starving artist of a brother but couldn't help being slightly irked by what a complete slop he was. She would have to have a talk with him about that.
After gently closing and locking the door behind her, she frowned at the perpetually broken elevator and proceeded to walk down eight flights of stairs. Stepping outside, she glanced up at the sky which was dark with potential rain clouds. She briefly considered going back up to grab and umbrella but with a quick glance at her phone that told her the time was now 5:00, she decided against in and took off down the street.
Her early morning activities had become a sort of ritual to her. She had chosen her apartment in the center of London, despite its many flaws, in order to be closer to her work. Each day, she would walk four blocks, stop and get two cups coffee at her favorite stand, one for her and one for her boss, then walk the next three blocks to the tower building of her office.
Today was just like any other day. She left the coffee stand with the steaming cups in her hand and a smile on her face. She gave hers a suitable amount of time to cool before taking a sip and basking in the strong flavor. She stopped momentarily and balanced both mugs in the crook of her arm at the same time so that she could check the time on her phone and nod over the fact that she was five minutes ahead of schedule. She even had a minute to scroll through her emails and texts before resuming her walk to work.
She giggled a somewhat inappropriate text she had received from her boyfriend, apparently after she had gone to bed last night. When she looked up from her phone, something caught her eye, or rather it appeared she had caught someone's eye. An elderly man with long straight white hair and a beard that if he hadn't been so skinny would have made him look exactly like Santa Clause, stood across the street from her. He was gazing at her, his eyes shining, his eyebrow raised in what could only be disbelieve.
She cocked her head to the side and he mirrored her movement. Tilting her head to the other side, she watched as he copied her again. She scratched her head, and he did the same. What on earth was this man doing? She averted her gaze and began walking in her usual direction, only to hear someone behind her shouting.
"Wait!" The voice cried.
She whipped around briefly to see the man rushing across the street, paying no attention to the oncoming traffic. As he neared her, she could make out his face more clearly, his light blue eyes, and she noticed his grey hat and puffy coat were very indicative of a homeless man.
She didn't have time for this. She was about to turn and walk away when she saw great big truck thundering down the road, a vehicle that the old man was completely oblivious to.
"Look out!" She shouted, just in time for the man to turn and see the truck speeding towards him.
She watched his eyebrow raise, not in fear, but in confusion. The truck was so close now, it was going to hit him if he didn't move. She wasn't really sure what came over her, but before she knew it she found herself in the middle of the road as well, her hands pushing the elder out of the way with out hesitation. It all happened so fast. She looked up and saw the head of the vehicle still flying towards her. She shut her eyes and squeezed her fists, preparing for what she knew was coming.
But nothing happened, no blaring horns assaulted her ears, no metal ton clashed into her in a fatal collision. She opened her eyes and saw that the truck had somehow magically stopped some distance away, though she swore she remembered it being only inches from impact. She suddenly felt dizzy. She had just thrown herself in front of a moving vehicle to save a stranger. She almost collapsed when to hands grabbed her and ushered her to the sidewalk. She looked up and saw the mans face.
"I-. I-. It's really you isn't it." He uttered in disbelief, reaching out his hands to touch her face.
She wiggled away from him and picked up her briefcase, scoffing at the coffee now splattered across the pavement. "What do you mean?" She asked, completely confused.
"I can't believe it. I can't believe I found you." A bright smile spread across his features. "It's been so long."
Her eyes widened ever more, this time fear mixing in with her confusion.
His hand grabbed hers forcefully. "Gwen."
There you have it. Please review review review so that I can know know know how I did did did. I won't continue this story unless I get feedback because if I don't how will I know if people actually like it. :D Yay!
Gah, I am still not over the ending. Every time I think about it I start crying. Right now for example, I thought of the ending and tears literally started rolling down my cheeks. Only a show like Merlin could make me so completely willing to be in this much pain over a series finale.
Anywho, THANKYOU!
^No that just made me think of Arthur's last words. Damn it!