The loss of Arthur was overwhelming. Every inch of his body hurt, even the inside. Curled around his intestines and throat was the invisible hand of grief, making it impossible to scream or cry or even take in proper breaths.
Thank you. Those two words floated around his head. They thrummed against his eardrums and pounded against his skull. Arthur had told him thank you. He had never said that before. Merlin didn't think he deserved those words. He had been just doing his job and fulfilling his destiny. No, it should be Merlin who had done the thanking. Thanking for friendship, brotherhood, and eventual acceptance in who he was. But, he'd never get the chance to say those things. Never. The warlock ha failed.
Hearing a crunch, his head went up. He jumped from the ground. His hand was outstretched and a spell was on the tip of his tongue. With a second's notice, he could send an assailant flying. Seeing that it was Percival Merlin lowered his hand and wiped his eyes. Mutely, the warlock watched as Percival stumbling out of the forest and towards him. Ropes hung from his wrists. There was a distracted and very sad expression in his eyes. "He's dead," whispered the knight, looking around.
Not knowing Gwaine's fate, Merlin nodded. The warlock thought he meant Arthur. "Yeah," the warlock confirmed. "Arthur's dead. I…I couldn't save him. I'm sorry. I am so sorry."
The knight's brow furrowed. Shock replaced some of the sadness. He looked as if he'd been just slapped. "The King is dead," breathed Percival after several minutes of silence.
Merlin nodded. "Yes, he's dead. I sent his body off," whispered the young man. He nodded towards the island. "You didn't mean him?"
Percival shook his head slightly. "No, I didn't. It's Gwaine...he's dead," the burly knight corrected. His voice cracked a little.
Merlin felt like he would pass out or throw up or both. First he'd killed Morgana (whom he'd once called friend), then Arthur, and now Gwaine? This was too much! Taking in a shaking breath, he crouched and hung his head between his knees. Merlin did not move when Percival placed a hand on the warlock's back and rubbed it gently.
"Maybe not," whispered Merlin. Maybe he could save the rogue, even though he couldn't save Arthur. He did have magic after all. He could heal, even though his magic wasn't as in-tuned with that sort of gift.
"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" asked Percival. He sounded confused.
Merlin stood and shook his head. "You'll see. I don't have time to explain. It'll be easier to show you," replied the warlock. "Just, take me to him and promise me you won't hate me for what I'll have to do."
The knight looked worried and unnerved. "Why would I hate you? If you can save a friend, it must be a good thing, right," asked Percival.
"Perhaps, but please promise me. Keep your mind open and don't judge me until you know everything," the other man requested.
"Merlin, you're scaring me. What are you talking about," demanded the knight. His brow was furrowed.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! We don't have time. Take me to him…now," the warlock said through gritted teeth. With each passing minute Gwaine's soul, or life force, was passing farther and farther away. That meant it would be harder to call him back.
Percival sighed. "Very well," whispered the knight. With those words, Percival led Merlin to Gwaine. They didn't say anything as they walked. Both men were too deep in thought and lost within their grief to speak.
Seeing his still form, Merlin swallowed as he knelt beside him. Could the warlock do this? He didn't know. There was no color in his face. There was no peace of eternal rest either. With tender fingers, he checked Gwaine over. His gazed lingered on the bite marks. The man had been tortured. Seeing those wounds, Merlin really did throw up this time. Wiping his mouth, Merlin stared at the still Gwaine.
"He thought he'd failed Arthur," whispered Percival. "I think that's why he succumbed to the torture when Elyan didn't."
Merlin could not help agree. The warlock had sensed a broken spirit when he had neared Gwaine. While that was utterly heartbreaking to feel, it was a good sign. Gwaine could be brought back.
Placing a hand on Gwaine's chest, he chanted. Vaguely, he was aware of Percival gasping, but it didn't make Merlin stop. After he was done, he leaned back and watched the corpse before him. Merlin was shaking and sweaty. He'd put everything into this spell. Would it work? He didn't know and so he waited with baited breath.