The Queen of Nowhere. That's what she'd always been in his mind. She could've been so much more than that, but Merlin always did his best not to think about what-ifs. In his current situation, however, he could not stop the what-ifs from playing over and over and over in his mind. If Uther had not banned magic based solely on his own mistakes, his own misguided fear. If Morgana had been free to learn her craft in peace. If this… If that… But the fact remained that though Merlin had succeeded in fulfilling his destiny, a fate closely tied to that of King Arthur's, he'd never really fulfilled that void in his chest where the what-ifs came from.

Now, as all of Albion lay in mourning for the late Queen Guinevere, King Arthur lay on his death bed dying of a broken heart, his oldest friends looking on him. Merlin was in the back of the room, leaned against a table so as not to put too much stress on his old and weakened joints. Gwaine was seated right at Arthur's side going on and on about something or another with blind hope that something he said might put a smile on the King's face. So far, he'd had no such luck, though he wasn't exactly surprised. He'd already commented that losing a woman like Gwen could put any man down for life, and Arthur hadn't so much as batted an eye even at a comment like that.

When a fit of coughs over took Merlin's chest, several eyes shot to him and one of the King's younger menservants ran over to the Court Sorcerer holding a cup of water. Merlin forced a breath of air in and out of his chest before he lifted the cup to his lips and let the cool water moisturize his dry and cracked lips. Between Gwen's recent death and Arthur's impending one, Merlin could feel the life slipping right out of him. Without Gwen, Arthur didn't seem to have much to live on for, his three sons more than capable of taking over, and ironically his two daughtesr probably more so than the boys. Without Gwen or Arthur, Merlin had the same kind of dreary outlook on life. It only seemed to make sense that the three best friends all go out together rather than drag it out and force one or two of them to face life alone. That seemed cruel, really.

"Merlin," Arthur said suddenly, the only word he'd spoken all day even to his children. Merlin's eyes shot up to the King's bed, where Gwaine was stepping aside already. The old wizard pushed the cup of water in the hands of the manservant before he slowly started across the room, his old fingers grasping the edge of any nearby piece of furniture so as to steady his steps beneath him. When he got to Arthur's side, he half expected the dying man to give him some ridiculous order like mucking out the stables, magic not allowed. Merlin was wholly surprised at the request that he was given. "Have you ever been in love?"

Merlin stared down at Arthur wide eyed and perfectly silent. In all their years of running Albion together, Arthur never could find the answer to shutting up Merlin, so when he was met with silence, he found it within himself to pry his eyes open and stare up at the white haired man, whose eyes had not lost a bit of blue over the years.

"What? For seventy years you can't shut up, and now you won't answer a yes or no question?"

It was more than Arthur had said all week since his wife's demise, so the others in the room were watching the exchange intently. They'd all assumed that after Gwen, Arthur needed Gwaine to make him laugh and smile. Nobody really thought having Merlin around to make Arthur mad, as he usually did, would make the dying man speak again. They were all promptly proven wrong.

"Yes," Merlin answered finally, finding the word constricted his chest and made him hurt in all different ways than he was used to from his brittle bones and worn out joints.

"Freya?"

"No." The wizard shook his head at the sound of the girl's name, though a smile graced his features at her memory. Nothing could erase the Lovely Lady of the Lake, but she'd not had as strong a hold on his heart as he once thought she had. "A witch, Arthur. She'd been a witch."

"Why did you not marry this girl?"

Merlin's chest tightened again as he kept his eyes on Arthur's.

"Would she not have had you?" There was a twinkle in Arthur's eye that said he was only teasing the man as he had day in and day out for the last seventy years.

"Not, she definitely would not have had me," Merlin answered, the truth in his words putting out the sparkle in Arthur's eyes. One glance up confirmed Merlin's intuition that everyone else was as interested in the answers as Arthur seemed to be. He decided it would be better to watch only Arthur, so he kept his eyes down, and ignored all the hurt in his chest as the what-ifs grew louder and louder and echoed off every wall of his mind. Besides, what did it matter if the truth came out after all the years, especially if he knew he was to die soon after the King?

"That's nonsense," Arthur said finally. It was one of the nicer things he'd ever said to Merlin, so the old man smiled at him and wondered how much of Arthur's niceness had to do with the departing of his always-nice wife.

"It's true."

"Why would she not have had you? You're Court Sorcerer."

"I knew her from before then," Merlin answered, and the light in Arthur's eyes almost went out completely. He shut his eyes, but Merlin shook his arm desperately until the King open his eyes again, the pain back in the widower's eyes but stronger than ever.

"That's a long time ago."

"Yes it was."

"Was she the only one then?"

"Yes she was."

"Is she still alive?"

Then it was Merlin's eyes that went dark with a memory. A terrible painful memory that made him take in a long breath before he focused his eyes on Arthur once more. "No, she's not still alive. Get some rest, Arthur. You look terrible."

Arthur's lips pulled up in a ghostly smile that faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Tell me about her."

"No." Merlin's answer was clear and definitive, and it was a rare occurrence for the man to deny the King anything. They were often at odds, but Merlin never outright denied him.

"What was her name then?"

"Arthur, this is all very old stuff," Merlin said to him as he started to step away from the bed, but Arthur's hand shot out and his fingers griped Merlin's wrist with all the agility and strength of a Knight a fourth of his age.

"Her name." It was an odd demand, but a demand nonetheless. Merlin found he didn't actually have it in his heart to deny a dying King anything.

"I called her the Queen of Nowhere," Merlin answered as he held Arthur's gaze, but when he stopped talking, his shut his eyes and dropped his head. The pain was near unbearable now and his wrist was starting to ache under Arthur's iron grip. "But you remember her as Morgana."

Arthur's hand released slowly, and Merlin tried to force himself to meet only Arthur's gaze. The man couldn't have been too terribly surprised, and when Merlin looked up, found that he wasn't after all. It was the Knights of the Round Table whom Merlin did not want to face after such an admission. For a long moment, Arthur and Merlin only stared at each other, a shared memory going through each of their minds, and Merlin had no doubt it was the exact same memory that Arthur was now recalling in a different light.

"You loved her," he said finally, his voice soft and weak as though the sounds in his throat were going out before his life left his body. Merlin couldn't tell if it was an accusation or simply a comment, so he just swallowed and nodded slowly.

"Afraid I couldn't really help it much," he said after a long silent moment between them.

"She was beautiful."

"I'm sure that's the only nice thing you could say," Merlin commented and Arthur's eyes flashed suddenly as he held the man's gaze. "I don't mean that spitefully, Arthur."

"Yes you do," Arthur replied darkly as though Merlin had insulted him. "If you loved her than yes you do."

Merlin slowly nodded once, then twice, and drew in a long breath. "I never blamed you."

"I'd have blamed you if that happened to me."

"You blame me for everything," Merlin replied, in a vain attempt to lighten the moment, but Arthur seemed to either not have heard the words or disregarded them entirely. "I don't blame you anymore," Merlin reworded his previous comment and watched as Arthur nodded slowly, the muscles in his shoulder relaxing a bit at the words. He seemed to believe that more than the first comment, and Merlin knew the second one was a bit truer as well anyway.

"Queen of Nowhere?" Arthur asked suddenly, and Merlin grinned brightly despite himself. The title sounded so ridiculous and bizarre when spoken in someone else's voice.

"Nowhere but my heart, I guess."

"Not a bad place to be, you know," Arthur said, returning to his streak of nice things to say.

"She never wanted to be there. At least not more than she wanted anything else," Merlin replied, trying to make his voice sound as though it were all in the past and that none of it bothered him anymore. Truth of the matter was, however, that it all bothered him a great deal. He'd sacrificed a lot to get Arthur where he was, and he'd never intended to sacrifice love as well, yet that was exactly what had happened. He'd always been deliriously happy for Arthur and Gwen and the marriage they had, but Arthur would smell the lie on him if he ever said he'd never envied them for it. Never imagined himself with a wife that loved him so wholeheartedly the way Gwen had loved Arthur until her last breath and probably then some.

"Why did you, then?" Arthur asked, his question vague and oddly worded, though Merlin knew exactly what he meant. He meant why did Merlin kill Morgana, the woman he loved, dangerously exposing himself as a wizard in the process, all to protect Arthur. Merlin's chest ached with the question and his eyes started to burn as he drew in a long breath and let it out. That one breath wasn't enough, so he drew in another and called to mind an old memory of Morgana. After all the years, he wasn't sure how accurate it really was anymore.

"I had to," Merlin said finally, the words tasting like poison on his lips. Maybe after Arthur died of a broken heart, Merlin would die of self inflicted poison. "To- For Camelot," he added, though Arthur hadn't had any intentions of pressing the man for more details. "To save you."

"And I threw you in the stocks for using magic."

Merlin would've smiled at such a comment usually, but he couldn't with the memory of Morgana so fresh in his mind. How was it possible to love her so long after her death? The questioned haunted him, so he finally formed it in his mind to ask. "After you banished her, Arthur, if you'd never found her again-"

"I'd have loved her every day for the rest of my life."

Merlin nodded at the answer, uncertain if it was the answer he'd wanted or not. After another few moments of quiet, Merlin assumed Arthur had gotten the answers he'd wanted, so he started to turn away from the bed, his steps laborious and painful. The Knights parted to let Merlin through and a manservant pulled open the door to the bedroom for the old man.

"Merlin," Arthur said once more and the old wizard stopped walking but didn't turn back to the King.

"Hm?"

"Did she-" Arthur started but stopped suddenly. "Were you the King of Nowhere?"

Merlin smiled at the question, and a laugh tore its way through his chest and throat despite himself. It seemed like something Gwen would ask not Arthur. When the laugh faded, Merlin considered his answer. "For a heartbreakingly short amount of time, yes," he said then continued towards the door, left the room, and disappeared around the corner.