A/N: So I'm sure there's going to be a flood of Alternate-Ending fics, so I figured I'd jump in straight away. I wrote this BEFORE 5x12, and have since altered the first half to better match the ending on the show.
"The king is dead," Sir Leon's stalwart voice addresses the crowd, "long live the queen!"
"Long live the queen."
"Long live the queen."
Those assembled repeat the words, but there is an underlying sadness in them. Camelot is in mourning for their beloved young king.
Guinevere sits on her throne, Arthur's empty seat beside her.
As empty as my heart, she thinks, but she keeps her own counsel, her face stoic. She is all out of tears.
She allows Sir Leon to escort her from the throne room and up to the royal chambers.
My chambers. No longer ours.
"My lady?" Leon asks at the door.
"I wish to remain undisturbed," she answers, her voice nearly a whisper. He nods and opens the door for her.
Inside, alone, she dashes the crown from her head, tossing it almost carelessly on the table.
She stands, staring at everything and nothing. Bereft of everyone she ever held in her heart. Fresh tears pour from her eyes now as she silently weeps, trying to adjust to her new reality.
Arthur is gone.
Dead.
Merlin is a wizard.
Arthur is dead.
Merlin couldn't save him.
I am alone.
"No," she whispers, her voice shaking as she crumples to her knees, "NO!" she shrieks, sobbing, trembling, overcome.
Queen Guinevere's world goes black.
No. Not black.
White.
Blinding white.
Sterile, blinding white.
A gasp escapes her lips, a hitched sob of a gasp, and she struggles a bit, finding resistance at her sides.
"G-guinevere?"
I know that voice. If I'm hearing that voice, I surely must be dead. I am dead and this is the afterlife and we have found each other again. Gwen struggles to open her eyes. They are thick, scratchy. Dry.
Where am I? What is all this? This isn't my chambers; not my bed. And what is that beeping noise?
"Guinevere!" His voice again, a thick sob, and Gwen feels a weight fall on her stomach.
"Arthur?" she croaks. Why does my voice feel like I haven't used it in weeks? "Where…?" She manages to lift a hand, the one not connected to anything, placing it on the blonde head wetting the stomach of her gown with his tears. She notices a gold band on her finger (though the wrong one) as well as on his. Still my husband, at least.
She looks at the gown now. This is not my gown. My gowns are silk. This is… coarse, plain. She looks around the room as Arthur lifts his head, staring at her through bleary eyes.
"You're awake," he breathes, and the words confuse her momentarily.
The word hospital flashes into her brain. She looks at her right arm. There is a needle inserted at her elbow with a long tube connected to a bag hanging on a rack. IV comes to her. Other things in the room suddenly identify themselves. Television. Bathroom. Respirator. The beeping sound is my heartbeat.
"I should call the nurse," Arthur finds his sense and pushes a button. "You're awake," he repeats, and fresh tears fall from his familiar blue-grey eyes.
"You're alive," Gwen replies, and immediately knows it's the wrong response.
"Of course I'm alive," he says, puzzling at her, holding her hand and kissing it for the thousandth time since she's been in this bed. She attempts a smile, and thinks she succeeds because more tears start.
"What… what happened?" she asks, finally thinking of the right question.
"You were in a car accident," he says, just as the nurse comes in.
"Oh, God, she's awake!" the nurse exclaims. "I'll page Dr. Gaius immediately," she says, and rushes back to the nurse's station.
"A car accident?" she asks. Do I know what a car is? Yes. Yes, I do.
"Yes, Love, you've been in a coma for three weeks," Arthur tells her, losing his composure again and dropping his head into the crook of her neck. She feebly lifts her hand to his head again.
Images come flooding back to her. Snow. A lot of snow. Almost couldn't see. Then headlights approaching, approaching way too fast.
Then nothing.
"I had… a dream," Gwen says. "A very long, very vivid dream…" she trails off, brows furrowing now as she continues trying to sort dream from reality.
Arthur lifts his head and looks at her. "A dream?"
"Arthur, I've brought your razor this time, and a change of— Gwen! You're awake!" Another familiar voice, a dear voice, happy, joyous, interrupts them as its owner comes bounding in.
"Merlin."