Forbrecan ond Gestrician
(Break and mend)
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Summary: A year has passed since Camlann and the loss of Arthur, and Guinevere has settled into her role as sole ruler of Camelot. Magic has returned to the Kingdom, and the people are at peace. But more was lost with Arthur's death than the man himself. For the past year, something else has been missing from Camelot. A situation that may soon be remedied.
Rated: K+
Characters: Guinevere, Gaius, Percival, Leon. (Maybe someone else...) ;)
Prequel two-shot to 'The Red Dragon' part one of a three book story which will begin posting in a few days. Second chapter will be posted tomorrow morning.
The Warning bell sounded overhead. It echoed loud through the halls, inciting all who heard it and were required to mobilise to their designated positions.
In the Great Hall, Guinevere shifted on her throne, a deep feeling of unrest washing over her at the thought of an attack. Camelot had been so quiet of late, the notion of something out of the blue to cause upheaval and uncertainty was far from welcome in these peaceful times. Her fingernails scraped at the rests of her throne, her stomach twisting with nerves. She gnawed on her lip, the shrill ringing of the bell clanging in her ears.
To her right, Aileen, the nursemaid, clutched Amr tight against her chest, protective arms like iron around the infant prince. On her left, her handmaiden Luned stood rigid, wringing her calloused hands in front of her skirts. She stared across the length of the throne room, eyes fixed on the doors in fearful anticipation the length of her blonde braid over her shoulder as she worried at it with her fingertips.
Across the room the doors opened with a loud creak. Sir Leon strode through, one hand ready on the hilt of the sword at his hip. At the sight of him Guinevere straightened in her throne. Her fingertips stilled against the rest, every inch of her tense.
"What is it, Leon? What's going on?"
Her first knight halted before her and bowed his head. "My Lady. Someone has breached the lower gate and entered the citadel."
Her breath caught in her throat. They were under attack? "Casualties?"
Leon shook his head. "None." He looked about to go on, but hesitated as a small look of confusion passed over his carefully neutral face. Confusion, and perhaps something else...
Guinevere knew him well enough not to miss it. "What's the matter?"
"The guards are alive, but..." He trailed off, his brows drawn together at what he had to say next. "... They are... asleep. Every man. We suspect the use of sorcery."
Guinevere pressed her lips together a moment. "Sorcery?"
Leon paused, before offering a nod. "We believe so." He hesitated, shifting a little as though restless before continuing. "Without the knowledge we now hold on the subject, we would not have been able to detect it."
He did not miss the light that flared in her eyes, nor the restrained smile she hid behind tightly pressed lips. "The prince and yourself should accompany me to your chambers until the intruder is found."
"Of course." She rose to her feet, and gathered her skirts into one hand despite her maidservant's reaching for them.
She followed Leon from the throne room, Aileen close behind her carrying Amr, Luned trying desperately to pick up the trailing hem of her mistress' skirts.
Guinevere kept her head held high, determined to maintain a brave face in front of the servants and nobles passing her on their own way to safety. She could not help the shiver beginning deep inside her, at what Leon had said.
Sorcery.
Hostile sorcery. In Camelot.
There had been no magical attacks on the Kingdom since the ban had been lifted little under a year ago. She had fought tooth and nail against her own council to see it done, and her people knew of her determination in the matter. It was not unusual to see magic in the lower town now, but it was still more or less unheard of in the citadel. Her heart skipped a beat. She quickened her pace to keep up with Leon, moving almost at a run. Fear that somebody may have seen fit to abuse their powers and attack the kingdom despite the new acceptance of magic left her feeling cold, but there was more than that. There was something else that had begun to overpower the small feeling of dread that flared within her at the warning bell. She recognised it well.
Hope.
Maybe... just, maybe...
Gaius shocked awake, confused by the hefty clanging raging in his ears. It took a moment for clarity to break through the muzz of heavy sleep, and the source of the infernal sound to become known to him. The warning bell? He blinked, eyes bleary, and frowned.
Drowsily he raised his head from the table and focussed on the pestle and mortar sitting innocently in front of him. He must have fallen asleep at his work. The thing was exactly where he had left it, complete with ground up cowslip pasted inside. Sir Godfrey's headache remedy, half-prepared. He had been up into the small hours researching a new formula in the hopes of finally shutting the man up about his damnable headaches. At some point he must have rested his head for a moment and drifted off...
It was light outside now.
With a yawn, Gaius sat up and raised his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes, surprised as a blanket fell from his shoulders. He stared at it in confusion, unsure where it could have come from. He certainly had not fetched it himself.
The thought of somebody else in his chambers uninvited while he slept unnerved him. He raised his eyes to make a quick scan of his workbench and shelves, ensure that nothing had been taken. His eyes caught on the bowl at the far side of the table. His frown deepened. The same bowl that he got out every evening, and filled with the same meal he prepared every night, that remained untouched until he refreshed it the next day. It was empty. Scraped almost clean.
He stared at it. Nothing altered, the bowl remained on the table – perhaps a little shy of exactly where he had left it – empty.
Without a second thought he got to his feet, ignoring the blanket tumbling to the ground behind him, and hurried towards the stairs up to the door at the rear of his chambers.
His mind was in turmoil: how could he have slept through?!
The door was slightly ajar, as it always was when... Not how he had left it just over a year ago.
Gaius rushed up the steps as fast as he could manage and threw the door open wide. He hadn't realised that he had been grinning until it fell from his face to find the room empty. He seemed to wilt from head to foot at the sight. Disappointment ran cold through the old man. He really had thought...
His eyes fell on something, just hidden down almost under the bed. Curious, Gaius took a few steps forward to examine it.
… A bindle, tossed down untidily on the floorboards. Thrown there so without care that half of the contents had spilled out of the loose knot. His frown returned: a sprig of herbs – rosemary, by the looks of it. Some form of bread speckled with seeds and half-eaten. A mouldering apple that ought to have been laid to rest long ago. The sleeve of a shirt that had seen better days. Some suspect-looking lumps of different coloured quartz, and two carved (quite roughly) wooden figures – one a dragon, the other a prancing unicorn.
An interesting collection of utter rubbish. Gaius felt a strange sort of peace descend on him at what looked like the beginnings of a pillaging. Relief, and an incredible glee rose in his chest. He knew of only one person who could generate such a mess and pick a meal clean in such a short time.
He turned and hurried from the room having almost forgotten about the warning bell screaming overhead.
Guards and fellow knights moved out of Leon's path as he swept along the corridor, hurrying to their designated positions during an attack on the Citadel. Guinevere couldn't help but watch them, wondering despite the speed at which her mind was racing exactly where every one of them went. Perhaps she was queen, but that information was not of great importance when it came to her. It was the sort of thing that Leon, and doubtless Percival would know. As first knight of Camelot, the running of its army was Leon's concern.
Behind her, Luned trotted along, making an effort to hold her mistresses skirts up off the ground. The poor girl was still new to the job and had not quite got the hang of some aspects of it. One being not tripping the queen whilst trying to assist her. Guinevere only stumbled slightly when her knee caught against the front of her skirts, but she raised her head and carried on as though nothing had happened, more for Luned's sake than her own dignity.
She threw a brief glance over her shoulder at Aileen and Amr. The nursemaid was where she was meant to be, following closely behind Luned. In her arms, Amr stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling and around at the rushing knights, curious more than afraid. He was very much his father's son.
"My Lady." Leon had stopped a little way ahead, directing her towards her chamber doors.
Percival arrived beside him, sword drawn.
Guinevere picked up her pace and met them as Leon pushed the door open and ushered her inside. She did not argue, and stepped across the threshold, closely followed by her handmaiden and the nursemaid. Luned almost walked into the back of her as she stopped dead.
Across the chambers, leaning in the window looking out on the courtyard below, was the figure of a man. A tall, thin figure, dishevelled under locks of thick, wavy black hair tangled about his shoulders, in a worn and dusty old brown jacket that had seen many better days. Just there, haphazardly tilted against the wall, untidy in every sense of the word. Standing there with his arms folded over his slight chest, as though he had every right to be there, and may as well own the place.
Guinevere stared. She dropped her skirts and stared. Over her shoulders her servants did the same, both wary and more than a little frightened. She opened her mouth to speak, closing it again a moment before any words could come to her. Before she could try again, both Leon and Percival were round in front of her, swords raised ready to defend her.
"Show yourself!" Leon demanded, head lowered, eyes narrowed into slits. "Face us!"
This whole thing was entirely inconvenient. Or it may as well have been, the way the intruder dropped his arms to hang limply at his sides, and the slump of his shoulders under a deep and weary sigh. He did face them, and stood there staring back at them with a tired, impassive look on his face.
Gwen felt her breath hitch. She knew him instantly, even underneath the long, messy hair – was that a leaf? And a twig stuck in it? And moss? - and beard that really needed caring for or removing altogether. She knew him immediately, and the sight of him there in front of her lifted her heart and brought tears to her eyes. She raised her hands to her mouth, unable to bring herself to speak, to even say his name for fear that she may be wrong and that none of this may be real.
Percival and Leon stood ready, anticipating an attack. They did not lower their weapons, even though none came. They gave no reaction at all until the intruder shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face, apparently waking himself up, and turned his eyes on Percival, looking the large knight up and down with a critical frown. "Have you gotten even bigger?"
Percival straightened, his war face falling away, his sword almost dropping from his hand in astonishment. A heartfelt grin spread over his gentle face, followed by a chuckle of disbelief. Beside him, Leon lowered his own sword.
Guinevere pushed past them, striding across her chambers without any of her queenly grace to stand in front of the leafy interloper. She looked up at him, examining every aspect of his familiar face, and wonderful blue eyes, and once again raised her hands to press over her mouth.
He said nothing, just remained silent as he let his own eyes rove over her face, taking in the sight of her as she did him.
Almost disbelieving, Guinevere reached up and took his cheeks in her palms. A light frown on her face, she tilted her head and regarded his cheekbones, and eyes, and nose all over again as though seeing them once was not enough. She hesitated, and gently turned his head a little to one side. Thoughtful, she lifted one hand and ever so gently brushed back his thick hair. A smile broke her solemn expression. There was one of his ears. His ears. One of those unmistakable, unique ears.
She released him. "Merlin."
"Gwen."
She stepped forward into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck, and laying her head against his shoulder. Her throat was dry. She swallowed, and bit her lip. Tears tried to escape her, to run loose and unchecked down her cheeks, accompanied by sobs she had held in for more than a year. She suppressed them, as a queen should.
Across the chamber, Leon and Percival looked at one another and shared a smile.
Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, and scrunched up two handfuls of Merlin's jacket. She held him tight, fearful that if she released him, he would disappear again. The very thought terrified her. She couldn't let him go again; couldn't go through the pain of not knowing where he was, if he was even alive any longer.
Eventually she would have to release him. She knew that, and when she did she was careful to keep the fingers of one hand tangled in the sleeve of his jacket. They met one another's eyes, the queen stepped back just enough that they could look one another in the face. Her eyes, she knew were relieved. His... were sad. It unnerved her to see him look that way, but she managed a fond smile just knowing that it was really him. That he was really there.
Her smile grew a little as she looked him up and down. She couldn't help herself when her natural fussiness got the better of her, and she reached for his hair, just behind where she knew his ear to be.
"You have a-" With a little gentle twisting, she extracted the twig, and showed it to him briefly before dropping it on the floor to one side. "And some-"
She turned the leaf in her hands to and fro, staring at it thoughtfully a moment. It seemed so strange, actually having him there in front of her after so long. That the last time she had seen him had been...
Her smile fell away at the very thought of Camlann, and at what had happened afterwards. She had not thought about it in detail for some time. There had not been time. Everything had happened so fast. She had had to cut herself off from the deep sadness as much as she could, to set aside her grief for another time as she faced the new challenges before her. Becoming a sole ruler. Repealing the ban on magic, just so Merlin could come home. Learning of Amr's imminent arrival, and making provision for the young prince. There had not been time nor choice for her to acknowledge her own sadness.
She looked up at Merlin, her expression as serious as her thoughts. "... You look like a bush."
His sad face cracked under a small smile. "Thanks." He replied flatly.
"Oh, no! I didn't mean..." She shook her head at herself, embarrassed. "You look wild, Merlin." That wasn't much better. Gwen forced her embarrassment away and smiled, squeezing his arm. "It's good to see you again."
He nodded. "You too."
They shared a quiet smile, broken suddenly as Percival and Leon were with them, the former's large hand tousling Merlin's mad hair, the latter clapping him on the shoulder.
"Merlin." Percival greeted him with a warm grin.
Leon shook his shoulder, neglecting to remove his hand even when he stopped. "Welcome back."
Merlin did not speak. He didn't know what to say. With a smile, he clapped his hand over Leon's.
The knights did not say anything more, content to remain in companionable silence for a moment. In the company of a part of them long lost.
It was Percival, who finally broke it, with a laugh of all things. His grin returned, brighter if possible, as he very lightly cuffed Merlin across the top of his head that it messed his friend's hair further. "Didn't think you could get so hairy."
Merlin shrugged him off and swiped his hand away. "It's a man thing. You wouldn't understand."
Percival laughed louder at that, and threw a glance at Leon to see him grinning. "I'm not the one with flowing, luxurious hair."
"Merlin has always had beautiful hair." Leon tousled the messy black locks for himself, a grin appearing on his face also as Merlin batted him away, a grumpy expression on the young man's fuzzy face. "It was just never long enough for us to fully appreciate."
"... And a face like a baby's bum"
Merlin shot Percival what could only be described as a dirty look. "I think I liked you better when you were quiet."
"And you when you were less hairy." Percival returned with... was that cheek? Actual cheek? From Percival of all people? The knight shook his head. "It doesn't suit you. "
Both knights tousled his hair in tandem, grinning like fools between them.
"Get off!" Merlin shoved them both away and folded his arms tightly over his chest. Five minutes he had been back. They hadn't seen him for a year, and they were at it already? Outwardly he was prickly as a hedgehog in his indignance. Inwardly, despite himself, he was laughing with them. Five minutes before the teasing began. He would have given it ten, at least.
The two knights exchanged amused glances. What they had been expecting, and what they had found were pretty much the same thing. He was still the same old Merlin, if a little sullen and hairy.
Leon met Gwen's eyes, and hesitated. His smile fell away. Though the queen smiled back at him, there was still a sadness behind it that showed in the way she worried at her lower lip, and dropped her eyes to the ground.
A sadness, and a plea.
"Percival."
The large knight looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to go on.
Leon nodded towards the chamber door. "We should go and tell them to silence the bell."
Sensitive as he was, Percival understood immediately he set eyes on Guinevere. He nodded, "And let Gaius know you're back." Looking at Gwen a moment longer, Percival added "I'll get him to give you two a minute." With a bow to the queen, he followed Leon.
Both men clapped Merlin on the shoulders as they went, openly glad that he was there, and that he was for all intents and purposes, alright.
Once they were gone, Gwen offered Merlin a small smile, and turned to Luned and Aileen.
Both women appeared a little unsure of what was going on. Aileen found herself less confused than Luned. She had worked as a nursemaid to the court for a good few years. She had seen Merlin around the citadel back when he had been a regular fixture, and knew of his importance to both the king and queen when Arthur was alive. She did not know what to make of him, nor whether or not she was comfortable with leaving him alone with the queen when she understood that that was what Guinevere was about to request of her. She had never seen him look so rough, so wild, and found him a little intimidating. For a variety of reasons, not all pertaining to his current state.
Luned did not know where to look. Being fairly new to her position, she had never seen Merlin up close before. A few times she had seen him ride past with Arthur and the knights, at the king's side, when she had lived in the Lower Town. Seeing him now, having heard the stories told and repeated through all ranks of Camelot's society, she did not know quite what she should have expected. Certainly not this.
She knew that she was staring, but she could not help it. The queen was correct. He looked like a bush.
With a light, ladylike clearing of her throat, Gwen took Amr from Aileen, and politely dismissed the nurse and her maidservant. She waited for them to leave and close the door behind them, before turning to Merlin once again.
Immediately she did, she knew where his eyes would be, even as she hefted her son up into a more comfortable position against her shoulder.
Merlin stared at Amr, his dark brows knitted in thought, and a little confusion at the young prince. Without looking up, he asked her, "Is he yours?"
She nodded, and bit her lip. "Mm hm."
Merlin continued to watch, blinking as the little prince returned his attention with wide eyes. "He's..." Merlin swallowed, and took a small breath, knowing how the question would sound, but he had to know. "He's... Arthur's son?"
Again Gwen nodded, understanding. "Mm hm." She looked down at her child, a smile touching her at the curiousity with which he regarded Merlin. "Amr."
Merlin stared. He could do nothing else. Amr, Prince of Camelot.
The child stared back at him, blinking his big blue eyes. Arthur's eyes. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. There was much of Gwen in him, but the little boy had Arthur's eyes, and tones in his brown and honey-coloured hair.
Merlin tilted his head, reflexively clasping his hands behind his back.
Amr Pendragon.
Camelot had a Pendragon prince.
Amr continued to watch Merlin with wide eyes, staring as though he had never seen anything quite like him before. Studying him, with a semblance of thoughtfulness that his father had never had. Quite what he was thinking eluded Merlin. He knew logically that the little boy could not be studying him; could not be considering anything about him beyond what he was, and that was about it. But the studious look on his face was absolutely spellbinding.
They looked at one another: one considering a thousand things at once about the child in front of him, and the other experiencing unknown thoughts about this new person he was meeting.
And then, Amr smiled. A bright, wide smile of toothless gums, and started to laugh. He started laughing, and did not stop.
Gwen bit back her own smile at the indignant look on Merlin's hairy face as her son laughed at him. She could not see why, but for some reason Amr found him hilarious. She coughed lightly, trying to hide her amusement, and began rocking Amr to distract him from Merlin.
"How old is he?"
"Four months." She answered Merlin's question with a smile. "He learnt to laugh a few weeks ago, and hasn't stopped."
Merlin gave a breathy laugh of his own, but did not say anything. He smiled at Amr, finding the happy little boy to now be enthralled by the gentle movement of a tapestry caught in the light draft beneath the door.
Gwen noted his regard, and glanced down at Amr. "Would you like to hold him?"
Merlin looked at her sharply, clearly surprised. "You don't mind?"
"Merlin." Gwen chuckled, and gave him a fond smile. "You are my closest friend. You were Arthur's closest friend. I trust you."
Hearing her say those last words, Merlin shifted, uncomfortable. He nodded, however, and held out his arms to carefully take Amr from her.
Gwen watched in surprise as he laid Amr against his shoulder in a rather practised manner, and began rocking the child gently. When she sent a questioning look his way, he shrugged a shoulder very lightly.
"You know how small Ealdor is. Mother always had somebody's baby in the house to look after."
That made sense. Plus there was something somehow right about it; something very easy to believe in the idea of Merlin the universal babysitter.
Gwen did not say so. She did not say anything or make any moves to distract. She clasped her hands at her skirts and watched Merlin holding both her son and the little prince's attention with gentle rocking and inane babbling.
She didn't want to interfere, didn't believe that she could make moves to, even if she wanted to.
There was something so inherently right in the sight before her, something that had been missing without her knowing it. It was something she had always known, so much so that she almost had not realised it, but with such absolute certainty that finally seeing it felt as thought that missing part of the scene had finally clicked into place. She had always known that when she and Arthur finally did bring some heirs into the world, Merlin would be an important presence in their lives, as he was in hers and Arthur's. He was her best friend, and Arthur's shadow. Wherever she and the king went, he would always be a few steps behind. Always where she knew that he would be, but had not realised until that day just over a year ago, where he could best protect Arthur, and her.
There was a comforting warmth to that thought, and a flare of affection for Merlin that made her want to embrace him all over again. Everything he had done: for Arthur, for the kingdom, for her. All that he had put himself through, and sacrificed; she knew it all now. Gaius had sat with her at the round table at her request, and told her everything. And she had listened.
She knew of Merlin's many trials, and losses. She had cried when Gaius spoke of Freya, and of Balinor, and laughed as he filled in the information she did not know about the troll, and the goblin. And she knew of the prophecies. She knew of Emrys, and exactly how much more there was to her easy-going, cheerful and fiercely loyal friend than she could ever have imagined. And it saddened her how he had been forced to hide, and to lie. To live with everyone he valued thinking of him as an idiotic manservant. She now knew all that he had done, and she had been unable to thank him for it.
As she looked on him now, watched him chattering to her son, the warm regard and love turned to cold fear in her stomach. That same fear that had greeted her every time she thought that she may never see her dear friend again. Even now that he stood before her, that fear would not abate. It forced her to look at him - really look – for the first time.
He looked awful. Beneath the beard, and the wild, wavy hair, he appeared pale, and drawn. His cheekbones were more defined than she remembered them, and his already over sized clothing baggier on his thin frame. He did not quite appear unhealthy, but any weight loss in Merlin was cause for concern.
His eyes, though bright as he chatted to the prince, were rimmed red, with dark circles underneath. They were lacking something. The zest for life, and glimmer of mirth that they had always held was missing. He appeared to be resting a foot also. Gwen realised that he had in fact been resting one or the other for the entire time she had been speaking to him.
On top of all that, there was the state of his clothes. They were dusty, and though showed signs of recent mending, had been torn and worn through in some places. They were the same clothes he had worn the last she saw him as himself. The day he failed to return from Avalon he possessed only the clothes he stood up in.
She cleared her throat lightly, drawing his rapt attention away from Amr and back to herself. The sight of him, of his grief and hardships still etched into his face and stance made her want nothing more than to hold him, reassure him that he was finally safe back at Camelot with the people who loved him. That he was where he belonged.
She refrained, however. If she gave in to the need to comfort him, then she feared the depth of her own grief, should he not be intending to stay.
For that was why was so frightened when she looked at him. It was not only Arthur she had lost that day, but Merlin also. If he was to leave again, then she could not allow herself to believe that she could erase his pain. It would hurt too much to think that he was out there, alone and in pain that she could have maybe eased.
"What happened, Merlin?" She ventured tentatively, quietly. "After Camlann, after Arthur..." She closed her eyes, drew a steadying breath. "Why didn't you come back?"
Merlin hesitated, a hunted look crossing his face briefly before yielding to that old grief once again. He dropped his eyes from hers, no longer able to look at her and see the question on her face, or the pain in her eyes. "I couldn't." He murmured, looking down at the young prince in his arms, as though speaking to the child, rather than the queen. "Not after... I couldn't come back. Camelot without Arthur..." He trailed off, and shook his head. "M'sorry."
Gwen did not speak for a moment. She remained silent, and let what he had said find a place in her understanding. Because she did understand. Gaius had told her so much when she asked, and it gained her new insight. The reason Merlin protected Arthur so. His unerring loyalty. The readiness to lay down his own life for his King.
She and Arthur were soul mates, put on this Earth to find and hold one another. Arthur and Merlin were a reflection of one another. Two sides of one coin. Two halves of one whole. Merlin existed for Arthur. His very purpose was Arthur's safety and life. Merlin was not just a boy, not just a man, and not just a friend. He was magic itself, and he had been born to serve Arthur. To have lost his very reason to be...
Her heart ached for her dearest friend. She could not imagine it. But perhaps she could grasp some idea of his sorrow.
"What about us?" She couldn't help but ask. She believed that she could understand. She loved Merlin like a brother, and her sorrow for him was painful, but she was still human. She was still vulnerable to all that came with the condition, and on those darker nights, when she had felt most alone, she couldn't help but feel as though he had abandoned her. That she, and the others he had called friend must mean nothing to him, if he could leave them all without so much as a backward glance. It had hurt, even when she told herself that it was not so.
She steeled herself, tried to stop the words, but they wanted to be said. After such a long year of uncertainty, and worry, and sadness, she wanted them said. "What about Gaius, and Leon, and Percival? And... me? We're still here, Merlin." She took a step closer to him, reaching out as though to close a hand around his arm, but allowed her hand to fall short, drawn to rest imploringly on her heart. "Camelot may not have Arthur, but it still has us. We were here for you. Why didn't you come back to us?"
For a moment, she wondered if her question had angered him; if the underlying selfishness she hated to admit was there had hurt him, but he showed no signs of hurt or anger. He did not raise his head to look at her, but held Amr closer, his shoulders falling as though under a sudden, great weight.
"I failed, Gwen."
Her heart lurched, clenching with the words and the thickness in his voice.
He said again. "I failed. I couldn't save him."
Tearful eyes rose to meet hers, a flash of colour over his skin as he fought to keep the tears from falling. "It was my destiny to protect Arthur. I knew the prophecy, I knew that Mordred would be his downfall, and I still couldn't save him."
"Merlin." Gwen moved to him, grasping both of his arms tightly as his shoulders began to shake, and the first sob escaped him. She looked up into his face, a sincerity in her eyes through the beginnings of her own tears. "You did all that you could." She reassured him. "More than any one of us could have." His breath hitched at her touch on his cheek, her thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone seeking to afford him some small comfort. "If it weren't for you, he never would have made it as far as he did. Arthur never would have lived to be king. Merlin-" She forced him to look at her, ducking her head a little that he could not look away from her if he tried. "-I know."
He drew a small, shuddering breath, his eyes frozen on her face, unblinking in sudden fear. Gwen steadied herself, aware as his shoulders began to shake once more and his hands to tremble just how frightened he was of what she was about to say. "I know. I know what you are, and all that you have done. For Arthur, for the kingdom, and for me."
She let the urgency fall from her voice, and her eyes to break from his as she lowered them to rest on his hand. It took a moment to chase away her tears that her voice would be clear enough to say what she needed to, and wrapped her fingers gently around Merlin's where they rested against Amr's back.
"You have magic." She said quietly, studying their hands together after so long of worrying that she would never see them again. Something so strange, and so foolish as notions went, but a fear that to her had been very real.
"Gwen-"
"You have magic," she interrupted him, unable to listen to the quake of fear, and sadness in his pleading voice, "and you used it for Arthur's protection, and for Camelot's safety." She raised her eyes then, meeting his with a warm smile she could not help but give. "Gaius told me. I thought that I had worked it out, and he confirmed it." Her smile grew, a small laugh of relief and happiness breaking past her lips overtaking the sombreness on her face. "All those times, Merlin, it was you. It was always you. Now that I look back, it all seems so clear. The ceiling collapse that saved me from Morgana, you were behind me. When she enchanted me, and turned me into a deer. I had been injured, I remember, and yet when I woke, the spell was broken, my injury healed, and you were there right beside me. My father, when he recovered from a plague that had killed everyone else who fell to it." She paused, and teased at her lip a moment in thought, before looking into his eyes once more. "You raised your hand against the Lamia. You were going to use magic to stop it, weren't you?"
He did not answer, but neither did he look away. Gwen swallowed, her smile remaining, though a little smaller at his lack of words. "I should have seen it. You were always there, all along, watching over us. I never realised. None of us did and... Oh, Merlin." Her fingers gripped his tighter, her words and breaths jumbled and hitching as she blinked back tears, struggling to find a way to voice all that she felt for her dear, dear friend. "Thank you! For all that you have done. Thank you."
She did embrace him then. There was nothing else she could do as she lost against her tears, no fight left feeling Merlin's hand rest against her back. Her precious friend. Someone who had done so much, lost so much for all those he loved and their safety. For Arthur, and for her. Lost for so long, and now back where he belonged, if only for a short time. She had this chance to say what she had longed to, what had made her so desperately sad to be unable to.
"Thank you."
His shoulders shook again. Gwen stroked his hair as he cried silently. She couldn't keep her own tears hidden any longer. After everything that he had done, and all that he had sacrificed and endured, she couldn't help but cry for him.
Between them, Amr gurgled, his little fingers clutching at the ends of Gwen curls.
She released Merlin, her hands coming to rest on his arms, still afraid to let him go completely. Looking up at him, into that fuzzy face that was so strange on him it made him look as though wearing a false beard, and his mad hair, he definitely appeared more magical creature than man. So she couldn't help the smile and the small laugh that escaped her, the feeling of relief that the big issue had been addressed only heightened as he lost his fear and gave her one of his wonderful, wide grins.
Amr began to shift and kick. Remembering the small boy, Merlin carefully handed him back to his mother where the child quietened in her arms. Clearing his throat, he swiped a hand across his eyes to dry them, and regarded Gwen quietly while she murmured to her baby.
"You're... really not angry?" He ventured after a moment, a slight quiver to his voice.
Gwen looked up from Amr to find Merlin watching her with a worried expression. He still feared that she was going to reject him? "Of course not. Why would I be?"
"Because magic is evil." He answered flatly, a touch of bitterness to his words. "And everyone who practices it is corrupt, and only interested in power."
"You're not evil, Merlin." Gwen returned levelly, somewhat reproachfully. She jiggled Amr lightly to resettle him and cocked her head at her beloved friend. "I don't believe that you are for a second."
He still did not appear to believe her fully. "I lied to you."
"I understand why you did. It's not something you could help." She returned her attention to Amr and extracted her curls from his tiny grip. "I know that you were born with magic, Merlin. He told me that it is a large part of who you are."
"I am magic, Gwen."
She nodded once. "I know. Gaius explained that to me, also. But even before I knew, I wasn't angry. You saved so many at Camlann. When I realised, I was pleased. So much suddenly made sense. Having the missing pieces of the puzzle has helped me to see everything so much more clearly." Swallowing, she managed a small smile, apprehensive of the words she would say next but knowing that they had to be said if he was to understand and believe her. "I was raised believing magic was an insidious, dark force that when it touched a person's soul it would corrupt them, and turn them to darkness. I, like many of Camelot's citizens have lost much to magic. My father, Elyan, Arthur. Even Morgana. But when I heard what Gaius said about the old sorcerer at Camlann, when I realised that it was you, I knew. No matter what I had been taught, you were not evil, Merlin." She smiled a real, heartfelt and genuine smile, shaking her head lightly. "You could never be evil, magic or not. The more I found out, the more I knew that not all magic could be evil, and eventually came to understand that magic itself was not. As with all things, it is what man makes of it. Different men make different things of it. I have known for a long time that it can be used for good. Everything Gaius told me reinforced that knowledge and made me realise that it does not necessarily corrupt. That is why I have repealed the laws against it. That," she paused, weighing up what his response would be before she spoke, "and I wanted you to come home."
Merlin did not say anything to that. He shifted guiltily, and stared at the floor.
Gwen couldn't stand it any longer, and stepped closer to him that he lifted his head to look at her. "Merlin, where did you go? Where have you been?"
He gazed back at her silently a moment, before sighing lightly through his nose and closing his eyes. "Nowhere. Everywhere... here and there."Stiff, he swapped his weight onto his other foot before continuing.
Gwen frowned lightly, and took his arm to guide him to the table and encourage him to sit.
He did as she told him and relaxed in his chair, finding the pressure on his tired legs and blistered feet drain away. Gwen took a seat at the table to the right of where he sat at the head, and perched Amr in her lap, her arms wrapped around him to prevent him falling if he tried to shift.
Once they were comfortable, Merlin went on.
"I... wandered for a bit, not doing anything much, just... walking. Occasionally I stayed with the druids, visited different clans in different kingdoms. They are always friendly, and welcoming. They didn't demand anything of me, either. Were just content to let me be there." He paused, brow furrowed in mock thought a moment as a spark of his old humour showed through the sombreness. "Except Iseldir, the chieftain here in Camelot. He demanded I cut my hair and shave because I apparently terrified every child in his camp, but I think that was just him trying to be funny. He really shouldn't."
"You are pretty terrifying." Gwen conceded with a smirk.
Merlin raised him eyebrows as if to say 'oh, really?' in as sarcastic a manner as silence could afford, and continued. "I found Aithusa a few weeks after Camlann. She needed care." He shook his head sadly. "Morgana's death had a deep effect on her. She blamed me at first, though she wasn't angry. More... frightened of me. It took time to gain her trust, and her forgiveness. We travelled together until a few weeks ago."
"Aithusa is the white dragon?" Gwen asked for clarification. Gaius had mentioned that Merlin was a Dragonlord as part of his explanations, and that Merlin had freed the Great dragon and ultimately sent him away, but he had not spoken at so much length on the subject as he had Merlin's magic.
Merlin nodded and shifted in his seat, still uncomfortable discussing such secret matters, even if they were no longer secret. "Yes. I hatched her. As the last of the Dragonlords it was my duty." His face fell. He took a deep breath, clearly troubled. "As it was my duty to protect her and ensure her well-being. I failed. Because of that, the Sarrum imprisoned and crippled her, and she bonded with Morgana."
Gwen reached across the table and clasped his hand in hers, hoping to offer comfort. Her memories of the time following her own imprisonment were hazy due to her enchantment by Morgana, but she had seen the white dragon up close. It was a poor, small, sickly thing. Even now the memory of it, of the doleful croaks and whimpers it made brought a wave of deep sadness to her.
"Aithusa." She murmured, letting the name roll off her tongue.
"It's dragontongue." Merlin told her quietly.
"What does it mean?"
"Light of the sun."
She squeezed his hand, a fond smile on her lips. "It's lovely, Merlin."
He wanted to smile, but could not find it in him. "I should have looked after her better. What happened to her was my fault." He rubbed at his forehead, feeling drained and very, very tired. Thinking of Aithusa always made him feel guilty. She was somewhere safe now, though. Where she would not be disturbed and could grow in peace.
"She can fly," he murmured, though Gwen already knew, "but in the time she travelled with me, she refused to. She wanted to stay by my side, so walked with me. These last few months I've been home, in Ealdor. Aithusa came with me."
He had been with his mother, then? Suddenly the darning in his worn clothing made a lot more sense. Gwen was glad to know that he had been somewhere safe for some of his time away at least, and she did not miss the small pang of sadness in her stomach that he had referred to Ealdor as home. Did that mean that he was going to return there, once his time at Camelot was done?
She did not interrupt him, however. While she did not prompt him to give her all the details he did, she felt that maybe he needed to talk, and she wanted to listen.
He stared at the polished wood of the table under his fingertips – much better polished than it had ever been during his reign of terror over the cleaning of these chambers – one hand clasped in Gwen's on its surface, the other resting beside it weakly. "I... didn't see the point in hiding any more. There was no point. Walking through the village with a young dragon beside me probably scared a few people, but it didn't hurt them. I just didn't care very much. Just... wanted to see my mother. Everyone in Ealdor knows I have magic now, and they..." He shook his head, frowning lightly as though surprised. "They're not afraid of me. I think for a few of them it probably explained a few things. They let me stay, Aithusa, too, provided she didn't eat anyone or ravage any crops. By the end of my time there, I didn't really want to leave. Neither did Aithusa. She's fond of children, and they like her too, so I left her behind. She's living in the caves in the forest, protecting the village. Mother's become quite fond of her. I suppose having Aithusa around makes her feel closer to my father, and me." He hesitated, aware that he was rabbiting on.
Gwen was watching him silently, not annoyed that he had been drawling along. Just glad to have him there. She had been listening to every word, not interrupting, not telling him to stick to the facts, but listening because she wanted to. Because she missed him, and missed his voice. The thought filled him with a gentle warmth.
She did speak in the silence, though her own voice was small, and quiet. "Why did you leave?"
To come to Camelot, she supposed. He was there at present from Ealdor, so to conclude whatever business he had in the city.
She was right. Merlin drew his hand away from hers that he could knit his fingers with those of his other hand, and sighed gently to himself. "I couldn't come back here until it felt right." He said in a quiet voice, like that she had used.
"And it feels right now?"
He nodded slowly. "After..." With a calming breath and swallow to whet his dry throat, he continued, "I couldn't come back. Camelot without Arthur... I couldn't. It hurt too much, felt too empty. I couldn't face it, so I stayed away. Even after I heard that the ban had been lifted. One morning, it changed. I wanted to come back. It felt right."
Gwen didn't say anything. She dare not – could not let herself hope. But her heart would not be denied, and leapt at his words. "Are you back?" She asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice. "Are... you leaving us again?"
Merlin looked up and met her eyes with quiet wariness and small worry in his own. "If... Camelot will have me. Will... have a sorcerer."
"Merlin." Her own voice was breathless, her words hurried as her hand tightened around his, closing it in a fumbled, firm hold. "Of course." She breathed, every ounce of sincerity in her voice reflected on her face. "Of course Camelot will have you. After all that you have done... Merlin."Her hand tightened around his even further, her lips twitching as she fought to express just how much she meant it. "Please, Merlin." She looked him in the eye, barely holding back tears she feared so much her inability to make him know just how sincere she was. "Stay."
He looked back at her, seeing her there with such sincerity, such fear on her face that he would say no, he could not reply. His vision grew misty through unshed tears. He nodded, small and slow at first, becoming faster, more exaggerated as he fought in search of words, any words he could say to affirm his wish. "Yeah."
Gwen smiled, tearful, and bright, and hugged Amr to her chest. She squeezed Merlin's hand and shook it gently. She could not speak, could not think of any words that would express the joy and gratitude she felt.
Merlin was staying. He was staying.
All of the apprehension, all of the fear and loneliness she had felt the past year without her dearest friend faded away The void it left filled with a wonderful warmth and a feeling of hope. Merlin was staying. Her best friend, Camelot's most loyal protector was back, and he was staying.
And...
Slowly,Gwen lifted her eyes from the table to meet Merlin's. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she searched for the courage to ask. Since that cold dawn at Camlann, and Gaius' words to her in the Great Hall, she had wanted to ask.
"Merlin?"
He blinked back at her, waiting patiently.
She bit her lip, and drew a small breath of uncertainty. "Would you... show me your magic? Please?"
He studied her a moment, thoughtful, and with a touch of that same uncertainty showing through in his expression. He drew his hand away from hers, and, hesitantly, raised it together with his other to his lips.
Gwen watched closely, her mind filling with wonder at his actions, at the strange words he whispered of that language Morgana had so often uttered in hate and anger.
"Gewyrc an lif."*
Tentatively, he brought his closed hands from his lips, and gently extended them towards Gwen.
She watched, unable to believe her eyes as he opened them to reveal a single, blue butterfly upon his palm.
The tiny creature opened and closed its delicate wings, absorbing the warmth of the sun's light from the windows into their flimsy surface, drawing strength from it.
Gwen shook her head, breathless at the sight of the perfect little thing. "Beautiful." She breathed, lifting her eyes to Merlin's.
His anxious expression fell away, replaced gradually by one of his brightest smiles, and finally a laugh full of relief, and joy. Relief that she had not rejected him, joy that he could finally share his magic with her in such a way. Freely, and without fear.
With a gentle fluttering of wings, his butterfly lifted into the air, flitting about the room above their heads. Its movements were watched by queen and warlock alike as it danced and twirled in its journey towards the open window.
In his mother's arms, Amr followed its flitterings above him, eyes wide with curiousity and wonder. He lifted his little arms towards it, reaching to touch it as it meandered so high above his head.
Gwen smiled at her baby, looking up to meet Merlin's smile at the little prince's interest.
Then he did something that would forever remain in Gwen's mind, forever there alongside her knowledge that magic could be a force for good.
Merlin reached out across the table and took her muslin scarf from where it lay discarded and unused, and drew it to himself. He held it in his hands for a moment, looking at it as though considering it carefully, before closing his eyes. Silent, he threw it up into the air, raised his head and opened his eyes.
Gwen would never forget the first time she saw his eyes burn gold, nor the flutter of hundreds of tiny wings as her scarf came apart in its descent in a flurry of colour, filling the air with tiny blue butterflies, and the excited squeal of joyous laughter from her infant son as magic touched his life for the first time. Magic she trusted with all of her heart.
Merlin's magic.
And it was beautiful, and it was good.
She let her eyes rest on her friend, on the unobscured happiness on his face as he smiled up at his wonderful creations. She would one day look back, and realise that for the first time, she could truly see him. This was Merlin, as he truly was. Uninhibited, without fear. Free.
No longer in disguise, as he had joked to her all those years ago with his head in the stocks. This was him, and she loved what she saw. He was finally free, and her heart sang for him.
And he was home. Finally home, where he belonged. That thought brought her greater joy than she could ever have imagined.
Merlin was home.
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* Gewyrc an lif. - Create life. (It had to be this one. It was always going to be this one)
Notes: There we go. Just a little prequel to set up my big, big, BIG story. Did I mention that it's big? Started writing it after the finale last year. My first Merlin fic, but definitely the longest, and still going. Book one is about three quarters done, and Book three is about a quarter of the way through. Two has about four pages written. Doing things in sequence is for organised people. I'm loving working on them though - been back to a few of the locations in my local area to refresh my memory (various castles, landscapes etc. I'm smack bang in the middle of legend country) and got to look at them with different eyes to the ones that have always taken them for granted. Also, a good chance to go off walking with the husband and stuff, so yey!
Anyway, chapter two of this will be up tomorrow to round it off and make it do its job, before I type up chapter one of The Red Dragon to post in the next couple of days. I shouldn't really start posting another story before I finish the others already running on here. Royal Retreat is not going to be neglected, so fear not if you're following that. I'll have the next chapter up before the end of the month. Uni is demanding my attention until the 5th of Dec also, though.
XXX