This... was hard to write..
This fic also serves as a request for darkwolf76, but I felt it needs to stand alone.
Events after 5x13.
.*.
"I know you did everything you could.." – she said nodding, her voice shaky.
It took several days for Merlin to get back to Camelot, not just because of the distance, but because he wasn't in any particular hurry to be in Camelot.
He had failed. – that's all he knew, that's all he saw.
He found the horses near a creek not far. If only they hadn't run off..
It pained him to lead the other one with only an empty saddle on it. He let his tears fall and let the horse go on his own pace, heading towards Camelot. He dreaded it, he loathed it. He had no idea how he will look into the Queen's eyes and tell her.. tell her that..
He sobbed.
The kingdom was victorious, but it was mourning, and some more then others.
Arthur was a just and fair king. And the people loved their king; as he showed them mercy; gave a hope and a helping hand when they were in need; stood up for them when there was injustice; they saw him grow into their king, and for unknown reasons, some secret influence, the arrogant prince, had become a courageous warrior, a noble knight, a true king for his people, worthy of the crown of Camelot.
Hands were busy, but there were eyes with tears in them looking into each other, looking for a little relief, a little peace, but there was none. Nobles and servants alike. And there were wounded, many of them, that needed treating, and measures needed to be taken.
Merlin marveled how strong Gwen was, running the council and managing the kingdom.
She insisted he stays by her side at all times, whenever Gaius doesn't need him, and to some extent it annoyed the warlock, because he wanted nothing more then to be away from it all, to skip the meetings, to avoid the crowd, but on some level he understood Gwen. She didn't want to be alone, and she didn't want Merlin to be alone.
Alone.. was all around them anyway in the absence of their King, in the absence of Arthur.
He remarked a certain awe whenever the woman looked at him, and he wondered what it means, it couldn't be blame, - he would deserve it, he felt, - but that didn't look like it. He didn't know, and he didn't bother to find out. Any thought that came to him was shortly dismissed once it took one or two turns in his mind, and proving to be too difficult to tackle, the young man just didn't think about it anymore.
He was silent.
He had been silent.
Time passed and he was still silent.
Gaius looked at him coming in though the door; there was no sign of that young boy coming into his chamber so many years ago, smiling from ear to ear, with a bag on his back, in awe of the castle life and very much rebellious with his magic.
Instead he saw a hardened man. A grown warlock, powerful and mighty, yet broken, pale, a mere shadow of himself; Arthur and Merlin had been like two sides of the same coin, as many had remarked throughout the years of watching them grow from boys into men. And now, the other one scratched and lost, the remaining part felt worthless.
He put the bucket of water down as Gaius requested, then without a word he headed towards the back of the physician's chamber.
The old man looked at him but said nothing. He didn't have any more chores for him to do, and couldn't bring himself to make up one either.
The door closed behind him and there was silence.
Merlin found himself in his room, finally alone. Alone..
He felt numb after the ordeals; the tending to the wounded, the meetings Gwen desired him to take part in, - for some annoying reason, - the physical work, the effort to stay strong.. the loss of a king; a friend; the loss of a purpose. It weighed heavy on him.
He decided to go to sleep.
With that he took his jacket off and untied his neckerchief, tossing them on the ground near his bed. He turned to the cupboard, tugging at his shirt and was about to lift it over his head when something caught his eye on the ground.
He looked at it long and hard.
Tears filling his eyes and he shivered, as he let his shirt fall.
He pressed his palm over his mouth, even taking a step back. He was so tired of this feeling, so tired of crying, his eyes hurt from it.
He bent over and picked it up, and marveled how such a simple thing can bring back so many memories.
How something so dirty, could look so friendly.
It was the piece of rag he used to polish Arthur's armor with. - And oh how annoyed he was every time Arthur made him do it just to irk him. And he smiled.. how Arthur smiled over his frustration.. the prat..
It was quiet at first.
But it grew.
It got loud and painful and Gaius couldn't help his own tears falling as he listened to it. So full of pain were the wails coming from Merlin's room. It was breaking his heart.
As a physician, he was used to seeing the circle of life repeat itself, and he would think he got used to it being that way.. but as a man; oh he felt different about it as a man. It was one thing to see life come to be, and then die out. But to see a life so much younger then him, be lost.. It was something he couldn't get used to. It was something he wouldn't get used to.
He had seen the baby Arthur come to life, seen his mother perish, seen his father be snatched from him; seen him go through victories and betrayals, seen him fall in love; seen him grow into a king from a boastful teen; and doing all that with the help of Merlin.
And now he was gone.
He will no longer seek his advice or need his services as physician after a rough training, or will no longer barge into his chamber half dressed and overly annoyed shouting after his lazy sorry-excuse-of-a–manservant.
A smile tugged at the corner of the man's lips of just how many times that later one had happened.
Gaius intended to give him time, and it was indeed taking time. After a while that seemed like an eternity the sobs started to quiet down.
The old man walked up the stairs and slowly pushed the door open. Immediately he spotted his ward crouched on the ground against the barrels next to his bed. He was still crying, but by now he was exhausted.
Gaius sighed and stepped closer, the warlock's eyes on him with a pleading look.
"Give me.. something.. so I don't feel the pain…" - he whispered with a hoarse voice and the old man was lost for words. Truly, there was nothing he could do.
He just looked at Merlin with pursed lips and moist eyes. There was no ointment for the wound he was suffering from. And it was written on him just how much he was suffering.
He looked deadly pale, with dark circles clear under his eyes, face damp from tears and eyes red from shedding too many of them. He looked worn out; battered and lost.
Gaius coaxed him onto his bed, taking notice of the piece of cloth he had in his grasp and wouldn't let go of.
He patted his head, and wondered what he could do.
"I need you to be strong, Merlin." – he said with a soft voice. –"Gwen needs you, the knights.."
"No.. no no no no no .." – he shook his head breaking out in a sob again. – "I cant… I failed… I FAILED!"
"Merlin. She will need you to be by her side." – the warlock barely gave his guardian a glimpse of disbelief, but the old man continued. – "Guinevere is carrying Arthur's heir under her heart."
Merlin's face dropped and his eyes widened. He pushed himself up to his elbows, slowly processing this information.
Gaius smiled.
"She will need all the help she can get. She will need to bring up a child, as well as run a kingdom, and she cannot do that on her own. She will need your wisdom. She needs you to tell her child about the kind of man Arthur was, about the adventures his father had, to teach him about what is right, and teach him about magic."
Then Gaius smiled even more. The young man looked at him in shock.
"Yes, Merlin. She knows.. and she needs you to be strong."
Sometime after, Gwen, treading carefully, approached him about his magic, and Merlin found himself to be scared to talk of it. After the initial surprised look, he avoided the woman's gaze, wondering how to get out of the situation, but then something came to him, as if a whisper of a lost friend.
"I want you to always be.. you."
And Merlin started to talk.
And Gwen listened.
And soon the knights listened; and they drunk to their King's memory; and drunk to their Queen's health, and after some time, they drunk themselves senseless for the birth of Arthur's heir.
Men came, and warriors were knighted; times changed, but the memories remained of fallen friends. Sir Lancelot; Sir Elyan; Sir Gwaine and Arthur, the Once and Future King.
Merlin still had an aura of sadness around him, and some would notice if they looked careful enough, but he was determined to serve Camelot as long as he could. He was determined to serve Queen Guinevere, and guard her child like he had guarded Arthur.
After all that's been said and done, all the sacrifices made, Gwen came to a conclusion one day and she intended to have her decision played out; and so the castle became vibrant as preparations were made, and people from various parts of the land came for the event.
"Is.. this really a good idea?..." – Merlin was nervous. More nervous then he ever remembered being. He fumbled with a lace on his clothing, the piece of string refusing to obey his numb fingers.. Arthur would make fun of him for it..
"You will be fine." – the physician smiled proudly and pushed his hands away to tie the lace in place on Merlin's red cape, arranging the sleeve of his shirt and his neatly tucked purple scarf while he was at it.
"..I now name thee, Sorcerer of the Court of Camelot.." – she said with a smile and it felt really awkward to be there, in front of all those people, nobleman, commoners and druids alike. Merlin recognized one of them as the leader of one of the groups they often met, and he gave a slight bow, that meant much more then just a bow. The warlock had never really gotten used to people bowing to him, but he couldn't stop them, and this was the only gesture they could show as gratitude, for once again druids could walk free in Camelot. If only Arthur could be here..
"It was about time.." - Gwen said to him, as they sat at the table side by side. – Merlin still finding it odd he wasn't the one standing in the back with a pitcher.
"This was.. unnecessary.." – he mumbled to the Queen.
"Be grateful I didn't make you wear a hat with that robe." – she said with a pinch of threat in her tone and after a moment they both started laughing.
Merlin still felt it was unneeded. He still was the same person, as Arthur told him to be, and deep down the title didn't value much for him, for he already got his reward on that dreadful day. The words that meant more than any treasure or name, the words of a dying friend;
"Thank you.."
.*.
Slowly he learnt, slowly he understood, that being born with magic grants him a long life. Longer that any man's..
"For when Albion's need is greatest, the Once and Future King will rise again.."
He looked at the monument from the distance and continued his way. One day.
One day he might meet Arthur again.
.*.