Goodbye

The air in the city was thick with grief, and the streets were quiet. No one uttered a single word, sobs were stifled until they could be let out in the sanctity of their home, and tears were wiped away from eyes silently as if one drop could be uproarious. What were they to say? Were they supposed to discuss their fears and entice their growing anxiety? The day everyone had feared for so long was finally among them, and they were too afraid to talk about it, as admitting it would make it all too real. Queen Guinevere was on her deathbed.

She had been the best ruler of Camelot for decades. She was fair and just, and wise as well. She knew how people thought, how people's minds worked, and she had quite a gift for being able to tell when people were not telling the truth. She only did deals with tricky kings when she knew she had outwitted them and knew she was going to get what she wanted. Suspected criminals had fair trials, and she knew who was innocent and who was guilty, and gave those who committed the crime a fitting punishment. She put the kingdom and the townspeople before herself, and did what was best for them. The most wonderful thing about her reign was that magic was allowed to be practiced and was completely legal – this helped decrease crime rates, as well as healing the sick and wounded more often. Camelot was the best it had been for so long.

And the people were afraid. What if her predecessor, her son, would not be as fair as she? He was a good prince, and an even more excellent son, but with his mother gone, would he change how the kingdom operated? Surely he had the same beliefs as her, but all children disagreed with their parents at one point or another. Would he be a good fit for the kingdom? Or would it all turn to ruin once she was gone?

The subjects had been traipsing through the castle all week long, bearing flowers and clothing and paintings and gifts and anything they had to offer, although the queen mostly turned everything away in insistence that they needed it more than she did. And she was right, of course, but the people were almost unwilling to do it, as they wanted to express how much she meant to them. She had maidens falling by her bedside in distress and despair, children laughing and telling her jokes to see a smile crack on her face, and men promising to keep their families safe. And everyone, no matter what age, thanked her endlessly for her devotion to the well-being of the kingdom. She accepted their praise with a hand squeeze, a warm smile, or a thank you in return. It devastated the subjects to see her go, when she had so much life left to live, but it was fate.

The final day, her final day, was for family and close friends, and she had few of those, despite her popularity. Five people gathered around her bed, sitting on the sheets, on the ground, or leaning against the bedposts. None of them dared move, none of them left the room, for what were they to do if she passed on while they were gone? They would never forgive themselves. They had been with her since midnight and were not going to leave until they knew she was gone.

They spoke sometimes, discussed plans for the kingdom, relived old memories with each other. They didn't talk about the matter at hand for it would only sadden them further, but it was all weighing on their minds. As the sun made its round in the sky, she became weaker and weaker; her coughs were more often and it got more difficult for her to breathe well. She drank water and had her pillow adjusted to make her the most comfortable she could be, but she got increasingly worse. And the worse she got, the bigger the pit in their stomachs got, the deeper the ache in their chests became. What were they to do without their beloved queen, mother, and friend? Life wouldn't be the same without her. None of them were ready to exist without her by their side.

"Cordelia, can you come here, please?" Guinevere said.

A woman, short and thin, stood up from her cushion on the ground. Her green eyes rimmed with red, her cheeks were damp with tears, and her shirt had wet patches scattered about her front. She nearly jumped onto the bed beside her queen, reaching out of her hand and intertwining her fingers with her own. "I'm here, milady," the woman said, "I'm here."

"Now, dear Cordelia, you must know that I am not blind and I can see you," the queen replied gently.

Cordelia laughed softly. "Of course, my queen," the woman said. "I apologize."

"Dearest Cordelia, you do not have to apologize."

"Right, milady."

"I know we have not known each other long, but I would like to tell you how much you mean to me, and how glad I am that you have been in my company for the past three years. You have done all of my laundering and cleaning, lit all of my candles after I had awoken from a nightmare, and have taken care of me when I didn't feel like getting out of bed. I have wished all of my life to have a woman that meant as much to me as you do, dear Cordelia. You are the sister I have never had, and I'm thankful I have had the opportunity to become your friend over time. You are such an amazing person. Always remember that servants are people too, and you are entitled to your own opinions. I hope you get to watch over many of my kin in the years to come."

The two shared a laugh and a smile. Suddenly, Cordelia threw herself across the queen's limp body, sobs racking her own. Guinevere tried to pat her back, but she was weak, and couldn't muster up the strength. "Oh, my queen, what will I do without you?" Cordelia wailed hopelessly. Guinevere's son hurried over and pulled the crying woman off of his mother, wiping her tears away and offering her something to wipe her nose with.

"Leon," she coughed abruptly. "Leon, come closer. I would like to tell you something."

The knight pulled away from the window and hurried over to the queen. Gently, he took her hand in his own, rubbing the back with his thumb, staring into her wide brown eyes. His lips quirked up into a sympathetic smile, for her voice was hoarse and rough and he knew how much pain speaking was causing her. "What is it, milady?"

Guinevere smiled in return. "I wanted to thank you. For all you have done over the years. You have been a faithful, selfless knight, and you have been burdened with many wounds. You have exceeded your expectations and you, my dear friend, have helped to make Camelot the kingdom it is today. You have been a loyal captain of the guard, and when he was still alive, you were a loyal and loving friend to Arthur. You meant a lot to him, as well as to me. I hope that you live a long and happy life with your wife, and I hope your children grow up to be as strong and wonderful as you are, although I have no doubt that they will be. Leon, I just wanted to thank you for being an extraordinary person to walk alongside. Thank you, for everything. I do hope you will not forget me after I am gone."

Leon nodded and chuckled lightly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I would never forget you, milady. Thank you for being a wonderful ruler. Camelot would have never been this good without you on the throne." A smile creased his lips before he pulled away reluctantly.

"Gaius," the queen choked out, "Gaius, come on over, please."

The old man, who was weaker than she but still going strong, limped his way over to her. He took a seat beside her body and grabbed her hand as Leon had done. It was painful to see her pass on before he had, for he had known her since she was a little girl; an infant, even. He wished he was in her place instead, but fate did not see it that way. "I will hate to see you go, Guinevere."

Guinevere giggle as well as she could. "Well, Gaius, I am frankly grateful I did not have to see you pass on."

"It should be me, milady, in your place," Gaius uttered, his croaky voice filled with sorrow. "I am many years older than you, yet fate decides to take you before me. It saddens me to have to see you go in my lifetime."

"Oh Gaius," Guinevere said. "You are so kind. That's one of the things Arthur loved best. As do I."

"You are far kinder than me, milady," Gaius chuckled, shaking his head weakly. "You are the best ruler Camelot has seen in my time here."

"Gaius, you have only been here for three rulers!" the queen laughed. "One of them being my husband!"

Gaius laughed in return. "I apologize, milady," he replied.

"I am so thankful to have had you in my life, Gaius." Her voice was weaker now, and she took a few moments to catch her breath before continuing. "You treated me when I was ill, gave me comfort when I was down, and gave me aid and assistance when I needed it. You are the best physician Camelot will ever have. You are wise, and helpful, and although you can have a sharp tongue you are, as I have said, one of the kindest men I have ever met. I am proud to call you one of my dearest friends, but I am even prouder to say that you are like a father to me. You mean so much to me, Gaius, and I will miss you very dearly."

The old man sniffled and wiped a tear from his wrinkled cheek. "I will miss you more than you can understand, milady." He got up and hobbled away from her bed, blowing his nose in a handkerchief he had been hiding up his sleeve.

The sun was lowering in the sky now, its rays dusting the bedspread with yellow and orange light, and the wind was whispering through the cracks in the window like a ghostly choir. The soldiers had long since stopped coming in to check if the queen had passed on, as they had come to realize that there would be plenty commotion coming from inside the room once she was finally gone. No one said a word, no sound was made. They were waiting for her to say something first. They didn't want to jeopardize the strength she had left by asking her questions. The silence did not last long, however.

"Elyan, come see your mother," Guinevere mumbled weakly, using her fingers to beckon her son over. He looked up from the speech he had been writing, put down his quill, and went over to her bedside, grabbing her hand in his own, much like the others had done. His other hand went up to sweep some hair from her forehead, giving her a wide grin.

"I'm going to miss you, mother," Elyan said.

Guinevere smiled. "I will miss you more, Elyan," she responded softly. "You are just like your father, you know. You have his laugh, and his smile. And you have his eyes. And whenever I look into them I remember him and feel the best I can. Your father was a good man, the best man I have ever known."

"I am proud to be like such a wonderful person, mother," Elyan replied. "I just wish I had gotten to meet him before he passed away."

"I wish you had gotten to meet him, as well. He would've been so proud to call you his son, as am I. I know you will take care of the kingdom as best as you can. I have faith in you, and I know you will make a great king." Her dark brown eyes looked sadly into his blue ones. "I have thought of so many things to say to you, but I cannot for the life of me think of one now. Just… remember who you are. Remember where you came from, remember what is right and what is wrong, and remember to follow you heart. I have complete faith you will make this kingdom even better than it is now."

Elyan reached up to swipe the tears away but his mother stopped him. "Don't be afraid to cry, Elyan."

He shook his head. "I'm not," he said. "I just… don't want you to start crying."

Guinevere giggled. "It's too late for that, my dear."

"Mother?"

"Yes, Elyan?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, dear."

Elyan slowly moved forward to brush brown curls from his mother's face. It was hard to accept that soon, she would be gone. She had been there for him through everything, and sometimes she was the only thing that kept him going. Softly he sighed and retreated back to his papers, resuming his work. All was quiet once more.

The sun was fading behind the buildings now, the top only peeking out over the castle walls. Cordelia lit more candles and placed them around the bed, Leon helped Guinevere have a drink of water, and Gaius gave her a remedy to lessen the pain. Everyone in the room was on edge. When was she going to pass on? Would she say something? Would she say goodbye, or leave without it? Her eyes were closed but her heart was beating and she continued to breathe, but her breaths were shallow and distant. The end was drawing nearer and nearer, and none of them were ready for her to abandon them.

She was enveloped by a fit of coughing. All of them rushed over to her, watching, shaking because this might be the end, she might go out like this, but it was just a fit of coughing. After it was over, she did look a lot weaker, however, and when she spoke it was as quiet as a whisper, even though she was trying her hardest.

"Merlin, come here."

The man looked up from his fumbling fingers and stared at his queen. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to her, not yet. They had been through so much over the years. She was his first friend in Camelot, she was the first person to help him, and she was his first kiss. Over the years they had grown closer and closer and he considered her to be his best friend – after Arthur, of course. She was so important to him, so very important, and his heart started breaking every time he looked at her limp, almost lifeless body. How would he cope? He had lost so many people who meant so much. He didn't think he could handle another loss.

"How are you feeling, Gwen?" He was quick to sit next to her, placing his hands over her own, which were clasped over her stomach.

She coughed. "Weak," she mumbled softly, "snd sick."

Merlin shook his head, his beard tickling their locked hands. "I'm not ready to see you go, Gwen."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "And I'm not ready to say goodbye."

His eyes flickered back and forth between hers, and they slowly welled with tears, drops of crystal slipping over the lip. "I'm going to miss you. With all my heart."

Guinevere nodded as best as she could. "I remember every single memory I have with you, Merlin. Every single one. All of our funny ones, our memorable ones. I remember every time you saved my life, or saved Arthur's, or risked your own to save someone else. You are… selfless; wonderful, in every way possible; important." Her words were followed by a cough. "I wish I could go back in time to the day we first met, because I would give you a hug. We didn't hug enough, Merlin. I wish we did now. I'm going to miss you, Merlin. You mean so much to me. I love you. Arthur did, too, although he would never admit it. You were his best friend. And he loved you so much."

The man's drops fell onto the silken sheets. "I loved him too," he said. "And I love you too, Gwen. You're the second most important woman in my life."

"After whom?" she said with a weak smile. "Have you not told me about someone, Merlin?"

He laughed. "After my mother."

"Of course," the queen replied. "She is a wonderful woman, and she gave birth to a wonderful son."

"How am I going to live without you, Gwen?"

She sighed. "You'll get on fine, Merlin," she responded. "You're going to be fine."

"You get to be with Arthur now."

"I do."

"Will you tell him I miss him and I love him? Will you remember I love you, Gwen?"

"Of course, Merlin."

The man pulled away and leaned against the bed post. Her breaths were getting farther and farther apart, her heart was slowing down. She couldn't open her eyes anymore; no matter how hard she tried. She could not speak. It was a struggle to even open her mouth to pour water and medicine down. They all knew it was the end. Elyan stopped working and laid down beside her; Cordelia sat beside the queen's head, running her hands through her hair; Leon paced at the foot of her bed, never taking his eyes off of her; Gaius sat near her feet, a hand placed carefully on her legs; and Merlin took the place next to her, warming her icy hands with his own. They were all crying, but they were waiting until she was gone to be loud. She deserved to go in peace.

The sun was gone now, its last light fading away. It became dark, cold, quiet. Slowly, her brown eyes slid open again, for the last time, and they trailed around, taking in the beautiful faces surrounding her. Her lips quirked up into the smallest of smiles, her chestnut eyes rested on the face of her son and her mouth open gently, lazily, for what would be her last words. "I love you all…" she whispered, her voice almost soundless.

"Goodbye…"

And Queen Guinevere's last light faded away.