A/N: This is my first ever story about Merlin. I hope you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it! Leave me a review to let me know what you thought about it, even if you hated it. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I might even reward it with home-baked cookies!

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is not mine. I really wish it was, though.

Chapter One

Hey! Hey! Hey!
I don't like walking around this old and empty house.
So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear.

Merlin rubbed his arms. He was utterly cold. It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did; the leaves on the trees were already changing colour. Yet that was happening earlier than usual. Even Gaius had remarked that he had never known autumn to commence quite as early as it was doing this year.

To the young warlock, it all made perfect sense. The world was mourning the loss it had suffered five days prior. The loss of Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King. The moment Merlin had sent the boat towards the sacred isle of Avalon, the rain had started to fall. Mere minutes after that, the wind had begun to turn colder than was bearable.

Of course it was silly to believe Arthur's untimely demise was the cause for that; the weather was simply unpredictable. It didn't need a reason to change. But it had to be meaningful, there was no doubt about that.

Which was why Merlin was at the top of the highest tower the castle had, looking up at the nearly black skies. He needed to make sense of it all. If he didn't, he would go absolutely mad. He knew it, even if he didn't know why. He had learnt to trust his instincts long ago, though.

This time, however, the stars held no hidden pictures or words to guide him on his quest. Before, those small pinpricks of light had always succeeded in calming him. Or in inciting him into action when fear threatened to overtake him. Or in helping him to find the courage he so desperately needed.

"Why are you not helping tonight? Am I not worthy anymore? Have I fulfilled my destiny and is there no use to me anymore? What is it? Tell me!" he angrily implored, his fist colliding with the wall.

The pain burned, but he ignored it. That wasn't all too hard; the pain he'd been dragging around since Arthur had stopped breathing in his arms was stronger than any other kind he or anyone else could inflict on him.

"Very well then, stay silent. The first time I really need you to give me the strength to continue, you can turn your back on me. It's no less than I expected," he bristled, positively fuming.

Part of him had hoped to see the tell-tale twinkle that normally made him feel powerful, ready to face whatever magical or human demons that crossed his path. His demons were different now, but there was always hope. Another part had known before he came here that there would be no help here.

Tears began to burn in the corners of his eyes. He closed them, fighting to keep the salty drops from falling. He still needed to return to his rooms, and Gaius would undoubtedly either be waiting for him when he opened the door or would wake up as soon as he set foot inside. The older man was worried about him, he hadn't even tried to deny it when Merlin had pointed that out.

Merlin was worried about Gaius too. The court physician missed Arthur as well. He had known Arthur since the day he was born, he'd cured many of his ills and had tended to more than a few scrapes and battle wounds. Just like Merlin, he was trying to figure out how to continue his life without the King in it.

Now that he was certain the tears wouldn't fall and he was breathing at a normal pace again, Merlin descended the stairs. If he didn't do it now, he would end up sitting here all night. Gaius would have his hide for it, and he would no doubt come down with an ailment to the longs.

That had happened when he was barely six years old as well, and it had taken him nearly four weeks to get better. His magic wasn't meant to heal him; whatever injury or illness affected him, it would disappear no more quickly than it would in someone without magic. That was the one thing his mother had been sorry about.

The hallway at the bottom of the flight of stairs was empty, as Merlin had expected. Most of the servants were keeping to their chambers, as was Camelot's new Queen. Guinevere had taken the crown because Merlin had refused.

"I am a warlock. No more power should be invested in me, as I already have enough of it. Warlocks aren't meant to be Kings; they are meant to help those in need in other ways," he reiterated the words he had used to refuse the crown.

It had been no surprise the people had opted to have Gwen be their Queen if Merlin did not want to be their King. The three of them had always been close, and Arthur already prepared for her to take the throne should neither of them return. After all, with his knowledge of Merlin's powers he had thought the warlock would be of more help out on the battlefield.

He shook his head. If Arthur had still been alive, he would have taken the crown. Not because he wanted it, he simply wouldn't have been given a choice. Arthur had long ago told him he would not hide his love anymore, that they would rule the kingdom together. Those words had warmed Merlin's heart so much that he hadn't been able to stick to his reservations of marrying the King.

But Gwen had never been trained to be a Queen, which meant things weren't easy for her. Merlin was wracked with guilt over not being able to help her, but his heart wouldn't let him. Her decisions would never be Arthur's, and he would always see the differences in the way they dealt with whatever situation that demanded their attention. He didn't need that addition to his hurts.

The knights were among the most affected as well. Their fearless, courageous leader was no more. They needed to obey someone else's orders now. It didn't matter that it was a woman, for it was Gwen and they trusted her. It just wasn't the same as taking orders from someone who was right beside them in battle.

Gwaine was the one who had told Merlin that, that very morning to be precise. The other knights hadn't wanted to burden Merlin any further, seeing as they knew Arthur and the warlock had been each other's one true love. It had been a relief and a comfort of sorts, though, not to be treated as something breakable for the first time in five days. Even if it had been a struggle to comfort Gwaine in his grief.

At this moment, however, there was no one around to draw strength from. And he refused to lean on Gaius too much. The older man was not in such good health or as strong as he'd been in his younger years. He'd have to do this alone.

A few minutes later, Merlin discovered he had been very much mistaken in assuming no one else was awake. Gwaine was strolling around the castle as well, his hair standing at strange angles and the dark rims under his eyes very visible even in the light of the single torch that was burning.

Merlin was torn between slipping into a niche to hide until Gwaine was away and walking over to him. The first was because he wasn't sure Gwaine or he would have much fun during their talk. The second was because he knew Gwaine would listen to whatever he had to say, just like Merlin had done for the knight before.

After his heart had beat about five times, he realized he needed to put aside his worries. Gwaine was obviously finishing up his sweep of the castle; he would check every nook and cranny, and that meant he would find Merlin unless he used magic. And he had vowed to never use magic if it wasn't truly necessary.

So he approached the knight. He hadn't taken more than two steps in his direction when Gwaine noticed him. Even in his sleep deprived state his instincts were working perfectly. Merlin was glad to see it. In the coming weeks, there might be a few attacks on Camelot. Most nobles would think Camelot was ripe for the picking, that the knights wouldn't have pledged their faith to the new Queen yet or that the Queen wouldn't be able to deal with the attacks.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He would show them he would not let Arthur's legacy be destroyed. Camelot was a place where everyone was accepted for who they were, no one was punished if they didn't deserve it and the people were cared for. All of that because Arthur had lived there, had been King, even if his reign had been too short to do everything he'd wanted to do.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here. I thought Gaius would have locked you in your room to put an end to these nightly strolls you've become so fond of. Then again, you'd be able to sneak out no matter what," Gwaine said, a watery smile pulling at his lips.

Merlin let the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly, almost mirroring Gwaine's actions. It was obvious they were feeling each other out, trying to find out how things would go from here. Merlin wasn't really in the mood for it, so he quickly spoke.

"He tried. I told him he couldn't do that, that I needed to keep busy so I wouldn't think about Arthur too much and that working in the castle would help with that. He accepted the reasoning," Merlin explained.

Gwaine shrugged in a meaningless sort of way. Then, he gestured for Merlin to follow him. Merlin did, glad it was one decision he didn't have to make himself. He was barely keeping himself from breaking, if he was left to his own devices now he would break more quickly than even he could expect. He was certain of that.

"Would you like to stay at my rooms for a while? Maybe talk some? Surely you cannot want to be alone in the state you're in? I mean, you look as if you've been trampled on by about ten horses," Gwaine said, the concern very audible in his voice.

In another life, the life with Arthur by his side, Merlin would have laughed at that joke. He would have grinned and his eyes would have sparkled. But he felt like there would never be a day like that again. He felt like he would never be happy again, like everything that mattered was gone.

"I'd like that. I don't want to go to my rooms until I'm looking at least slightly better. Are you sure you want to keep me around, though? I'm not good company right now," Merlin warned, a touch of darkness creeping into his voice.

Either Gwaine didn't hear it or he didn't care. Whichever it was, he simply continued walking in silence. The knight's eyes kept darting to all sides, trying to do his duty despite the sense of loss that was obviously still paralysing him.

Fortunately, Gwaine's room wasn't far from where they'd met. Merlin's legs were trembling, the word seemed to move unsteadily now and again. He knew that was because he hadn't eaten enough and had run himself ragged. But there were more important things to do than focus on the small discomforts. He had experienced much, much worse in his life.

He'd experienced burns, cold and more broken bones than anyone should have experienced at his age. And most of those hadn't come from protecting himself. He'd burnt his leg when he tried to protect a young boy from a heartless man who wanted to sell him as a slave. He'd broken his ribs when he jumped in front of Arthur to keep him from dying.

But five days ago, Merlin had failed. When Mordred advanced on Arthur, he had been too far away for his spell to have any effect on the younger man. And he hadn't been fast enough to reach Arthur before Mordred's sword had slid through the blond man.

It had earned Mordred the honour of falling victim to the most powerful spell Merlin had ever performed. The raven-haired youth had fallen dead to the ground before Merlin had even fully pronounced the word. And there had been no chance for Mordred to use a spell of his own.

Kilghara had looked more than moderately impressed, but he had told Merlin he'd always known his powers would keep growing. Merlin hadn't had the heart to ask him how he knew; he had understood Kilghara would not answer the question. That didn't mean he wouldn't ask him some day, though.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Gwaine unlocked his chamber door. He'd not been paying attention far longer than he'd realized. Gwaine was oblivious to it, though, so he quickly decided it didn't matter.

Gwaine dropped onto the bed straight away, yawning as he did. Merlin couldn't help but join in, as he always did when someone yawned. It was one of the things that had been 'cute' about him, as Arthur had put it.

"So, where do you want to start? With why you were out and about so late? Or where you'd been?" Gwaine suggested, not bothering to open his eyes. He radiated a sense of calm and acquiescence, which had a positive effect on Merlin.

Merlin sat down beside him, close enough to feel the heat of Gwaine's body. They'd always been good friends, which was the one reason Arthur had never been afraid when they hung out or hugged.

"I guess I wanted to find someone to help me ease some of my worries. I haven't been able to talk to anyone yet; the castle is so much more quiet than before. It's like everyone's afraid to come out. And more than that, it seems they're afraid to add to my pain and grief," Merlin admitted readily.

Gwaine did exactly what Merlin had expected: he reached out to take the warlock's hand in his. It didn't mean what it had meant between Arthur and Merlin; Gwaine was a woman's man. It was a gesture of support and friendship. And Merlin didn't want it to be anything more than that.

"You're lonely. I get that. I also understand why you're annoyed with people avoiding you. I'd be too. But deep down you understand why they're doing it, you've just said that. So what is it that's really dragged you here?" Gwaine pushed.

Merlin sighed; Gwaine was right. His loneliness was only part of the reason why he was there. It was time he admitted to that. Else, even the smallest chance of getting some help would be lost. He'd never find the courage to speak up again.

"I wanted to find someone who'd listen to me. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to let me talk about how much I miss Arthur. I'm done being strong, Gwaine. For once, I want to let someone catch me as I fall. It was all worth it when Arthur was the one I was protecting. He used to let me cry on his shoulder. Now, I need someone else to be there for me just for a little while," Merlin softly said.

Gwaine squeezed his hand lightly, and Merlin finally gave into the tears he'd kept at bay until then. The salty drops felt burning hot against his cold skin, almost like someone was dragging a knife along the skin.

Gwaine didn't wipe them away, and Merlin appreciated it. No one had seen him cry before, only Arthur. No one had dried his tears in a long time, apart from Arthur. It wouldn't feel right for anyone else to do it.

"What do you miss most about him? I know it probably sounds silly, but still…" Gwaine said, pushing himself up a little so he could look at Merlin. His gaze was penetrating, giving away the perceptive and intelligent nature of the knight more than anything else he could have done.

Merlin didn't have to think about the answer to that question. Some things about their relationship were difficult to explain, would seem odd to others if explained the wrong way. But this question didn't fit into that category.

"The way he used to try to keep me in bed in the mornings. Arthur wasn't a morning person, he grumbled every time. Except for when he succeeded in making me stay in bed with him a little longer. He said he never knew when we'd get the time to hug during the day and the mornings we spent cuddling made up for that. It was silly, but so sweet it never failed to make me smile," Merlin said, a small but genuine smile breaking through.

It made Gwaine grin too. Merlin knew he was well aware of how much of a pain in the arse Arthur used to be on patrols or hunting trips right after he'd been woken up. All of the knights had quickly learnt to stay clear of him until he'd had breakfast and the time to get into the rhythm of the day.

"I get that. That's probably the reason he was blushing so fiercely when I said he was a closet romantic. I was right," Gwaine said as he squeezed Merlin's hand again.

"Yes, it was. He was still convinced that letting others in on how he was feeling would have made him seem weak back then. I'm glad I managed to convince him otherwise," Merlin said, not bothering to hide the still lingering sadness in his voice.

Gwaine pulled Merlin into his chest, and Merlin immediately clung to his tunic. He hadn't realized he needed a hug quite as badly until the knight's arms closed around him. He knew Gwaine probably felt the same way and had been reluctant to admit it. The man was most likely afraid that any sign of weakness form the knight would serve as an invitation for the aforementioned power-seeking noblemen.

They sat there for a long time, drawing strength and comfort from one another. And no doubt there would be nights like this for some time to come. Or at least, Merlin hoped there would be. He trusted Gwaine, and the knight was strong enough to help him get back on track.

"I should head to my rooms now. I need to get some sleep and make sure Gaius does the same. He needs some looking after too," Merlin whispered, pushing back from Gwaine reluctantly.

Gwaine nodded, getting up to see Merlin of without either one of them uttering another word. They didn't need to. They understood each other, there was no doubt about that in Merlin's mind.

When Merlin came back, he found Gaius asleep in his usual spot. He covered the man properly with the quilt that had almost slid off of him, making sure he wouldn't be cold during the night. The man didn't even wake when he climbed the stairs to his room.

Merlin's own foray into sleep wasn't quite as easy. But he had expected nothing else.