I believe the quotes are a pretty good explanation. But if they aren't this is one of those really-drawn out plot bunnies (more like head canon actually.) that's always been on the back of my head.

Basically, this is a mashup of Merlin and Arthur's epic bromance /soulmateship (that should become a thing. And I repeat, a soul mate does not have to be necessarily romantic. ) and Merlin and Gwen's kickass friendship/bff awesomeness. It'll be a three-shot ( already written, so no fear!)

I spent years ( of course this is a simple hyperbole.) in the category section because, really, there are two sides to this. There's Arthur rightfully worried and sullen and then...well, there's Merlin and Gwen being the bffs they are. You all will see in a bit. So I just refrained myself from tagging this as angst/humor/family or something confusing like that.

Anyway.

This is set on the Golden Age of Albion that's now, sadly, an AU. That means that the knights are all alive and Merlin is Court Sorcerer, yada, yada, yada.

Well said one of his friend, "Thou half of my soul"; for
I felt that my soul and his soul were "one soul in two bodies": and
therefore was my life a horror to me, because I would not live halved.
And therefore perchance I feared to die, lest he whom I had much loved
should die wholly."

- Augustine of Hippo

.

"You are my heart" he said to her. "...as it beats within my chest." – Jackelyn Frank.

The King

I went to meet her for a friend, a beloved friend
Who knew he couldn't be there and knew someone should be
We love each other, he and I-a brother's love, he'd say
So who else would he send to bring his bride that day?

- Heather Dale.

"Don't worry Arthur; we'll be back by nightfall."

Merlin sounded so incredibly carefree, so sure, that for a fleeting moment all of Arthur's worries swirled away in a thick cloud of white smoke-emptying his mind from the concern that had found a home in the pit of his stomach and that suffocated his heart with ill-sounding possibilities.

The Emrys smiled and Arthur, who held the reigns of Merlin's white stallion tightly on his fist as the man climbed up, let his lips mirror those of his best friend. A soft, haggard smile illuminated his tired face- for his hands were trembling with fatigue, he knew, and Merlin's soft-spoken advice was what stopped him from escorting his beloved Queen back to Camelot himself.

Beautiful, kindhearted Guinevere could not sit idly as reports of a famine reached the throne of the High King- Arthur knew that her heart had ached with pain for her subjects as much as his own- and she had departed with five of Camelot's finest knights towards the improvised outlands of the city, bringing with her hope and good cheer.

Yet, as reports of the struggles that some of Camelot's citizens were experiencing reached the High King's ears, he had sustained an injury to his leg during a small quarrel. Gaius had been adamant that, to regain his health back quickly, Arthur should try to rest is leg for at least a week's time. Guinevere had told him those villagers did not have time.

And so Arthur could do nothing else but let her go.

"You better be." The High King answered his warlock with soft eyes. "I'll have the Cook make Guinevere's favorite meal."

Merlin looked down at him with a grin that mirrored his own, reaching out to touch Arthur's shoulder gently- the way a mother touches a child she knows won't see anytime soon…even if it's only for a few hours, because any separation seems unbearable.

Merlin's eyes said it all and Arthur nodded, reaching to grip the pale hand on his shoulder with his own.

"As long as you don't attempt to do the cooking, Arthur…"

The High King laughed, shaking his head as the distant memory came back and filled his heart with joy. He handed the reigns over to Merlin and nodded softly, knowing that his sorcerer understood the hidden and nevertheless evident wish for Merlin and Guinevere's safety and prompt return.

"Godspeed, old friend."

With one last look that spoke of many things, both simple and solemn (because neither of them needed words), Merlin clicked his heals and the white horse raced out of the courtyard. Arthur stood and watched him go until he could see him no more.

The High King walked back into the castle slowly, achingly, and although there was comfort in knowing that his beloved wife and friend would be back before nightfall it didn't stop the emptiness from settling inside of his heart.

"Godspeed, old friend." Arthur repeated quietly to himself.

And the day went on, with snail-like pace and numbing ache, but it did. The knights of Camelot breathlessly reported the number of provisions they needed, Gaius didn't stop for one second as he looked for solutions in his invaluable volumes, the knights of the Round Table went back and forth between the villagers and the High King, letting him hear his people's voice while he stood in front of a high window and fixed his eyes where he knew his Guinevere was and where Merlin would be very soon.

The cook had Guinevere's favorite soup and dessert ready by midday, Arthur made his way towards the dining room with a cane a few minutes later and after he'd sat at his table,( staring intently at the empty seats on his right and left hand as if by his will alone he could bend time and make Guinevere and Merlin appear on their respective seats,) he realized that he needed to get up again. The High King paced and the maids and knights who saw him knew not what to do- they could see their beloved sovereign's eyes were darker than usual, that his face was grim and his lips thin.

After night had covered Camelot with its dark cloak the High King became an unmovable figure by the window.

Then the door was opened. Arthur's back stiffened, small places on his spine tingled with a well-known apprehension he had not felt in years. He closed his eyes shut as tentative steps approached; knowing that there had to be a reason for Sir Percival to be this hesitant…

"Sire…"

He looked up then, fingers curling inside his palms instinctively and mouth suddenly dry. There was something in Percival's posture that pulled tightly on his very soul, something that his heart was determined to deny with all of his might…

"Arthur," Percival said, and his voice was the only thing heard in the room, the King was so quiet, "there's been a fire…at Longstead, sire."

Arthur did not move but he did look away from the window to fix his gaze on his trusted and most gentle knight. His eyes were a silent and yet ear-spitting plea for denial- Percival could see that his good King was tired and worried already, he did not need this.

"What of Guinevere and Merlin?" Arthur finally asked and although his body did not move his eyes said it all with overwhelming volume, a thousand emotions and primal fears swirling as one on his handsome face and darkening his gaze.

There was a moment of silence in which the knight and the High King stood and Percival's heart broke for him.

"I'm- I'm so sorry Arthur…."the knight of the Round Table told his King unwillingly, "…we know nothing of them as of yet."

And just like that the High King's world shattered into a million pieces. In a moment all color left his face and his breath stuttered as his knight's kind and sorrowful voice reached him- These were words he'd heard enough since childhood, words that he often met with grim acceptance, knowing that there was nothing that could be done for whomsoever he'd lost. But this time-

"I want you to know, Guinevere," he'd told his beautiful wife once, "that I've come to realize that you and Merlin are the two people that matter the most to me."

And he did not care that he would have never admitted it out loud as a young prince and king- this had changed in ways he could barely comprehend; he had changed with time and experience, coming to know just how shallow and unimportant his false pride used to be when he was faced with far worse….

"I'm sorry Arthur." Percival repeated and Arthur could not help but wonder why- for his mind was already set in riding out and finding them as soon as the horses were ready.

And so he told his knight, "ready the horses, I'm riding out to get them."

Suddenly there was chaos swirling around them as the High King struggled to reach the wooden doors, almost dragging his cane instead of using it- grimacing as hot, white pain shot up his injured leg. But even if Percival ran to his side and tried to aid him he did not even turn to look at his knight's pale face for he knew that time was primordial…

"Arthur…"

The High King of Albion opened the wooden doors with a grunt that bespoke of something deeper and greater than the shallow pain of his flesh wound. But the doors flew open brazenly as cold wind flew in and swirled around both the High King and the noble knight.

After a long moment in which Arthur stood, speechless, staring at the storm that had so suddenly begun and that he could not brave by any means, Percival placed a careful hand on his King's shoulder. He knew that Arthur's heart was trembling with fear inside of him and so he bowed his head in sympathy.

"We will search tomorrow, Arthur." he said quietly, hoping to bring his good King some hope. "Gwaine and I, we'll direct a patrol at first light-"

"No." said the King curtly, "I'll direct a patrol as soon as this storm dies down."

Percival grimaced at the thought of Arthur riding with his leg in such a state but said nothing of it, choosing instead to try and ease Arthur's worry with what he knew to be true.

"Merlin would never let anything happen to Gwen, Arthur. She'll be alright. You'll see."

But Arthur only shook his head, his face scrunched further and when he raised his gaze to meet his knight's there was something so ancient and anguished in his honest eyes that Percival could not find words.

"I know Merlin will do everything to keep her safe." said the High King in a whisper, "But I also know that Merlin will disregard his own safety."

There was silence before Arthur told his gentle knight in a rare baring of his heart. "I cannot lose them, Percival."

'Why?' Percival may have asked a long time ago- When he knew nothing of the Once and Future King's courage and greatness and Guinevere's kind and loving heart, and of how much they loved each other, so strongly that they had defied centuries of kept traditions to be by each other's side. When he had not known of Merlin's bravery and selfless deeds, of his and Arthur's destiny and entwined souls, of how deeply and vastly they cared for one another. ..

He knew the answer and that was the reason why his mouth ran dry when he heard the small break in Arthur's voice.

"You will not, sire!" Percival exclaimed vehemently then, walking so that he could look at the lost eyes of Albion's greatest King.

But Arthur did not look at him. It seemed, even though the Camelotians and many others had thought the High King invincible and unmovable, that something could break him apart- shatter him like glass.

Arthur kept his eyes on the raging storm throughout the night and the next morning would find him sitting there still .

Augustine of Hippo's quote breaks my heart. But, in other news, I'll mention that it makes me incredibly happy to tag this as 'Family.':) I can just see Arthur walking around holding Gwen's hand close to his heart and having his other arm around Merlin's shoulders. Why did that never happen?

By the way, is there a name for the Gwen, Arthur and Merlin trio? Throw Gwaine into Arthur&Merlin's soulmateship (yes, it'll become a thing.) and they become 'The Questing Trio.' There's the golden trio- Harry, Ron and Hermione and there's the 'Big Four' for Poirot, Hastings, Japp and Miss Lemon. There's the Olympian(?)- trio in the PJ fandom. ( and by the way that's Percy Jackson not pijamas.)...hmm. *ponders with a cup of tea.*

G'night my dears!