What Must Come

Rating: T, very mild

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Merlin belongs to BBC/shine.

Characters: Guinevere, Arthur, Merlin

Spoilers: For ep. 4.03. Please be warned.

Author's Note: These are three drabble type ficlets from three points of view: Gwen, Arthur and Merlin, scene fillers for ep. 4.03. They all follow basically the same theme. Some fill what was actually on the show while others involve more speculation than an actual scene.

TTT

She hears it. Shrill. Pained. As she is walking down the hallway to his room. But now she backs away, instead heads to his father's quarters where the sound grows louder and the sight is more disturbing. The guards are all lying on the floor. So still. No rise to their command. And within the door a voice pleads. Begs.

"Guards! Somebody! I need-

She tries to open it, but the outside is locked. The voice comes again. She looks down to the guards, lowers to her knees anxiously. Digging within a pocket, she finds them. The keys. Pushing them through the hole she opens the door. Stares at the sight. Ghastly. Blood soaking into the floor. Into the king's tunic. Into the the hand of her prince.

"G-Guinevere."

It shakes. His voice. He holds him in his arms. Tears stain his cheeks. "Please."

She feels her breath clench. Rapidlly she rushes across the room to where he sits on the floor cradling his father's bleeding body, ignoring the other fallen form. Pulling away at the bottom hem of her dress, ripping away the lining of the inner skirt, she presses it against the wound, holding to the prince's hand, feeling it tremble. "Keep it there. Solid. To slow the bleeding."

His look is dazed. Lost. Lost little boy now her prince. "Gauis. Please. He needs-

She clasps his face, kisses his head, somewhere in the middle, not caring of direction, just needing to give him some bit of love. "I know. I'll get him now. You stay."

She scrambles up to her feet.

"I c-can't lose him."

His voice is so weak. So boyish. He's a child again crying for his father. Begging that he lives. "I know.

GAIUS!" She screams now. So burdened to leave him, but knowing that the physician may be the only help. The tears staining her own cheeks, now she looks back. At her prince. Her love. Torn into disbelief. Ache of need.

And then rushing out of the room she screams again, afraid time will not wait.

"GAIUS!"

TTT

He lies just a few feet away and Arthur has a hard time meeting the solid base he lies upon.

It hurts.

It hurts so much to have his father like this. Resting with no hope of ever getting up.

Arthur goes to him, prepared to spend a sleepless night. After this evening the man will be put into the ground. The king of Camelot will become a new one. His father has raised him to this occasion. But still his heart feels as if a dagger has been pushed into it.

For a long time Arthur remains quiet, but then as a tiny hint of light comes through the window, he feels himself whispering.

His mouth opening.

"You can be with Mother now Father. I don't want…

To let you go.

But I know I must now make you proud. You said how you gave more time to Camelot than me. But that is no fault. For you see, your love of Camelot, I love it just as much. I wouldn't have wanted anything different than what you gave me. What you taught me. I don't care if sometimes you were harsh. I didn't see you that way for I knew always you were teaching me how to be a strong king. And I feel honored to have such duty now. I will not let you down. You made mistakes, yes. But I have made my own. You made decisions that I quarreled with you about. There were things we disagreed on then and still do. But from all of it I learned, and I know it will make me a better king."

His hand reaches for his father's upon the hilt of the sword. He holds it gently, but reverently.

"I know Morgana hurt you. And you have had a broken spirit since. But that you wanted to celebrate with me the day of my birth, Father that meant so much. I hope you are resting well now. I hope you are at peace. Because you don't have to be in charge anymore. That is my responsibility now.

I…

I love you Father."

Tears well in his eyes. New. And old. He kisses the forehead of the man who first showed him how to use a sword, who first took him on a hunt, who first gently touched his cheek when he cried for his mother. No more love given. But no more love needed.

For Arthur, deep in his soul always knew. Always has felt.

His lips are wet, water from his eyes falling upon his father's head. This is the final. He looks up to see through the windows, the golden glow of the sun. Maybe it will gently burn away his tears.

He turns away. It is morning.

The morning of his coronation.

The king is dead.

The new one will soon take his place.

TTT

He has sat here all night, unmoving. His muscles are sore actually a bit and his eyes are wearied. But he doesn't care. No one should be alone in grief. Especially his prince. He's called him many a names before and meant them all. He got more satisfaction probably than he should have as he used him as his pony, insisting he go faster. But too he has felt the care each time Arthur has kept him safe. Beyond any great king he may become and any hope for magic to be returned to the land, he waits because Arthur is his friend. Truest of any kind.

The door opens and Merlin startles. It's been closed all night long. He's waited here all this time. Now out of those doors walks a man with an honored title.

The sun is behind the new…king. It shines a shadow upon the floor and for a second Merlin can only feel total awe. Everything the dragon has predicted is there. Arthur is completely something new. He is King Arthur. Yet to feel the crown come upon his head in coronation, but it does not matter. As Arthur has departed those chambers where his father lies, he is now king.

But it's still there.

That soft voice that is caring of others. Merlin turns to it, up, seeing lost traces of tears that have been shed throughout the night. Grieving remains for his father. As Arthur asks him, Merlin makes the case he did not want him to be alone. The reaction from Arthur is a somber sincere one. Merlin feels his mind go stark as his king quietly admits he is his loyal friend. Merlin. The servant. The sorcerer.

He wishes so desperately he could tell him everything. But it is not yet time. Instead he admits how hungry he is, that truth a simple one. And even as Arthur states that Merlin can cook them both breakfast then, Merlin does not banter back. He instead gladly goes to do his duty for his…

Friend.

TTT

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