Warning: Contains Major Spoilers

After the end of the war that had long plagued the land of Albion, Merlin needed to find his place. The death of King Arthur, the greatest king the lands had ever seen, his friend, who had accepted him despite it all, had died, he had been lost.

He had spent a few days by the lake where he had set him alight on his journey to the other world, confused, lost.

He had completed his destiny. He had fulfilled the prophecy. So now what?

He had returned to Camelot. He needed to find out what had happened to the great kingdom, he needed to help to rebuild it, to help them welcome magic back into the walls that had long since prosecuted it.

He needed to say goodbye.

Once he had returned, there had been a memorial to King Arthur, the greatest king Albion had ever seen. The Kingdom had mourned over the loss of their king, the man who had made life more bearable, who had not prosecuted for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had changed Camelot for the better, he let the people rule him as he had ruled them. He was not the man his father was, he was better than that, so much better.

Merlin had been denied the right to a speech. Queen Guinevere had been in a state of grief and remorse. She had been confused and lost without him there beside her. She had stayed strong, but had been blind to those close to her in the few weeks following Arthur's death.

But he knew what he would have said. He would have said that Albion has lost the greatest man that has ever lived, that they have lost a true friend, a man not noble by birth, but by his actions. Merlin remembered the man who had taught him that.

When Merlin had returned to his home, he had been devastated to find that Gwaine had been killed. He had simply refused to believe it. Surely, fate was not so cruel to take yet another of his closest friends. Lancelot, Freya, his father, Arthur, and now Gwaine, had all been taken from him. How many more must it take to become satisfied? How long until it struck Gaius? Or his mother? Even Morgana, one of the first people he had befriended in Camelot. She had been the first to be taken from him, though not in the same way.

Now, some weeks later, Merlin was lost again. He had done his best to advise the Queen and help her in her tasks, but she had regained her strength, and Merlin was not as needed as he once was.

He was sitting with the remaining Knights of the Round Table. Leon and Percival, who were now so lost themselves. Only the two remained, Leon, numb with grief, and Percival, who blamed himself for the death of Gwaine.

"I should have stopped him." He said quietly, his head lowered and his eyes on the ground. "I should have known, it was suicide."

Leon clapped him on the shoulder. "Do not blame yourself. We were in a state of desperation. He died a noble death, and he will be remembered."

Merlin raised his head. "He deserves a tribute." He mumbled. "Not just an honourable mention in the Queen's speech. He deserves so much more."

The two knights glanced at him. They knew of his magic, as did many others in the Kingdom, but they had accepted him, as Arthur had accepted him. And like Arthur, they had shown him a new respect. He was no longer just a servant boy in their eyes. "Sir Gwaine does indeed deserve a proper send off." Percival muttered.

"Indeed." Leon agreed. "For our closest friend, anything."

And they had gathered all those closest. Merlin had gathered Gaius and Guinevere, Leon and Percival a few other knights, but that was all. Gwaine had not befriended many outside of his loyal, circle of friends.

They gathered outside, in a remote outcrop in a field, where the wind could sweep freely through. Merlin had chosen it himself, though he doubted anyone outside Gwaine's closest friends would understand why. Gwaine had been a free spirit. He always ran where the wind took him, especially before he was granted the right to be a knight. For Merlin, Gwaine was riding through the wind that swept through.

He sat beside Gaius, his eyes downcast. At the front was a weathered, grey stone. Etched onto it, were the words:

Always remember Sir Gwaine

Who always brought light to the darkest of nights

A true and loyal friend.

Involuntarily, tears streamed silently down Merlin's face, and he let them fall freely. One by one, Gwaine's friends stood and shared parting words for him, expressing all they had kept bottled up since his death.

Percival arose, standing at the front beside the memorial stone. "Gwaine was one of my best friends. We would always share a laugh, play a prank or two, all in good fun." Merlin could tell he wasn't used to expressing himself. He knew he had so much more to say to his friend, but as tears welled up in the quiet man's eyes, that said all they had to know. "All I can say is this. Camelot has lost a true friend, a brave man."

Leon clapped him on the shoulder as he sat beside him, before standing up himself and striding to the front. He also bore the marks of grief, tears staining his battle scarred face. "Sir Gwaine was a loyal friend, and a brave warrior." He announced clearly, not allowing his voice to choke up. "I cannot express how much he meant to all he met, how much he impacted our lives and the lives of others. Gwaine had a good heart, and he followed it until the very end, dying in a brave attempt at ending war."

Merlin doubted he could have added anything onto what everyone else had said, however, as he was ushered up to the front, to stand beside the stone, he thought he could never express all that he needed to say. He had stopped crying. Though grief was still etched on his features, determination was clear in his eyes.

"When I first met Gwaine," he began, his eyes sweeping over everyone sat before him. "I instantly knew what he was. He was a good man from the beginning, and wouldn't let Arthur fight a losing battle alone. He was honest, and brave, and you would never in your life meet anyone as loyal as he was." He choked as tears welled at his eyes again. "He was truly a man of honour. He believed that nobility is not something that you are born with, but something that is earned, and he earned it every single time we spoke. Before he was even a knight of Camelot, he was still more noble than half of the knights there."

He looked around again. Percival and Leon were nodding in agreement, Gaius looked up at him with pride and Guinevere looked downcast.

"More than that," Merlin stated clearly, a smile playing at his lips as he remembered all of the good times they had shared. "He had the greatest sense of humour I have ever encountered." He could see memories beginning to form in the eyes of those gathered, Percival and Leon also beginning to smile, a sad, but genuine smile. "There was never a dull moment with Gwaine, and more times than I can count he never stopped talking." Leon and Percival were grinning now. "You know, there was a time that he thought sticking his arm in a beehive would be a good idea."

"He was hungry!" Leon spoke up, laughter rippling through the crowd.

"He never gave up!" Merlin announced, his voice strong. "He and King Arthur were constantly competing to see who was the better swordsman, but neither would ever prevail. He was always reliable, you could always count on him." Merlin paused for a moment. "He truly was the light in the darkest of nights, the Strength that kept us going."

As everyone cheered, Merlin grinned as a breeze swept over his face. "I'm glad someone mentioned that." He spun round at the achingly familiar voice, but nothing was there. "I thought this was going to be depressing as all hell. Can always count on you to liven things up, Merlin."

Tears slipped down Merlin's face again, but he didn't speak.

"Don't remember my death, Merlin, remember all the good times we shared. You're the best friend I ever had, don't ever forget it."

"I won't, Gwaine. I promise."