Thanks for the kind comments, everyone! I'm glad you're enjoying this so far, as I am enjoying writing it. This chapter is mostly reaction, but plot should with luck be finding its way into this story very soon. ;)


If Arthur had been at a loss for what to say before, now a part of him wondered if he'd ever share his beloved mocking back-and-forth banter with Merlin again. Taking the boy back to Gaius's chambers after he'd collapsed would have bordered on heartless, so Arthur had found a spare bed for him in one of the guest rooms. His father would never have stood for it, but Arthur had little reason to worry about his father's opinions these days.

He'd stood watch over Merlin for a short while, trying to prepare himself for the days to come. It was going to be a challenge, to say the very least. He had never met anyone as naturally kind and gentle as his manservant. Sure, they tossed insults at one another like squabbling brothers, and half the time he was certain Merlin thought he was an enormous prat, but all the same the young man made it clear enough on multiple occasions that he would lay down his life for Arthur in an instant. To be honest with himself, the prince was convinced Merlin would do the same for just about anyone to alleviate their suffering. And here he was now, his unwavering selflessness rewarded with pain Arthur could scarcely imagine.

He wondered how he himself would be taking it. To lose a close friend and then, let's face it, a father, within the course of a few short days. The prince shook the thoughts away. He was already losing his father, and the closest friend he had was, as much as he wouldn't admit so aloud, laying in the bed before him, perhaps broken beyond repair. And yet it wasn't the same. The fierce love Arthur witnessed between Merlin and Gaius, between Merlin and his friends, was something he had never quite experienced.

A quick knock was followed by the chamber doors opening.

"Sire, I apologize for intruding, but the council is waiting for you."

Arthur glanced back at Sir Leon, but the man's gaze was on Merlin. The prince smiled in a sad way. There was hardly a person in the palace who didn't care for Merlin and feel the need to protect him.

"I'll be there in a moment."

"Yes sire." Leon turned to leave.

"Sir Leon?"

"Sire?"

"Send Gwaine back here to sit with him." Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want Merlin alone when he wakes."

Leon nodded, both in obedience and in approval. He left, while Arthur continued to stand and stare. Merlin did not look peaceful in sleep. His brows were creased, his fingers clenching and unclenching. At a time like this the prince would have sent for Gaius to prepare a sleeping draught.

He sniffed. The old man had been there for as long as he could remember. A kind man, like Merlin, and one he'd often overlooked and taken for granted before Merlin had come to Camelot. He doubted they'd find a replacement with half the skill or long-life's-worth of wisdom. A replacement. Arthur rubbed his temples. He'd need to find a replacement.

"There you are! I've been in and out of every room in the castle looking for you." Gwaine stepped into the chamber without knocking, and rubbed his face with a smirk. "Got a couple of smacks for my trouble, but it wasn't all bad."

Arthur worked up a convincing stare of disapproval. Gwaine plodded over.

"How is he?"

"I don't know. He fainted after I told him."

"So less than good?"

Arthur didn't have patience for Gwaine's antics right now, as much as he was sure it was simply the eccentric man's way of coping. He looked him squarely in the eye.

"Watch what you say when he wakes up."

Gwaine looked injured at that. His smile faded as he brushed past the prince to take up a seat next to Merlin's bed. "I'm not a monster, Arthur."

"I know..." Arthur sighed and made for the door. Gwaine turned back to face him before the prince could get away.

"I'll let you know when he wakes."

Arthur nodded his thanks, but was still entirely uncertain of what he would do when that happened.


Gaius entered his chambers, breathless, but he felt an instant relief to see Merlin sitting there, bathed in milky light next to the window. He slowed his approach.

"Merlin! I was so worried."

Merlin looked back. Gaius could see the pain on his face. "I'm sorry, Gaius."

The old man sidled over, taking a spot in front of his ward. He was treading carefully, but he had to ask the question he already felt he knew the answer to, if only to get the boy to open up. "Where's the girl?"

Merlin shook his head, the tears building. "She's gone." There was a pause as Gaius watched, his own heart breaking at Merlin's pain. "She's dead."

Gaius hung his head. He had every reason to tell Merlin that he knew this would happen, but he had no desire in the world to do it. Slowly, he stepped forward and pulled the skinny lad into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. Truly I am."

Tears were still in his eyes when Merlin woke from the sorrowful memory. His body ached. His head in particular was throbbing. He couldn't immediately recall why he felt so terrible, and half-expected to see Gaius when he opened his eyes, with that same look of fatherly concern and understanding. Instead, he saw Gwaine, who had the look of someone half-asleep and daydreaming of cheap ale and loose women.

Merlin tried to sit up, feeling utterly drained. Gwaine woke with a snort, his satisfied smile lingering a moment until he saw the young man was now conscious.

"Merlin—" he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath.

Gwaine's expression had fallen in an instant, and it was in that moment that Merlin remembered. The sweet simplicity and ignorance of unconsciousness wavered, making way for reality to come charging in again. Merlin froze in his efforts to get up, his heart drumming against his ribs. The terrible thing Arthur had told him. It had to be a nightmare. He'd come close to losing his mentor before, but it had always worked out. Gaius had always been there for him at the end of every adventure.

"Gwaine," Merlin said, blue eyes full of fear. "Tell me it was a dream."

The man looked down at his lap. He shook his head. "It wasn't a dream, mate."

Merlin bit his lip and fell back again, the tears coming ferociously now.

"I should have been here."

Gwaine continued to shake his head. "You can't be everywhere."

"I should have saved him. I should have saved both of them!"

"Merlin, there was no way you—"

"I could have, Gwaine!"

And yet again Merlin had to stop himself. To everyone but Lancelot and Gaius, Merlin was a useless servant; a cowering idiot who could always be found after a fight hiding behind a tree or passed out like a girl. They didn't know—they couldn't know that Merlin had saved all of them more times then he cared to remember. He couldn't confess now that he had had every means of saving both Lancelot and Gaius. The bottled frustration hit him sudden and hard.

"Where did they take his body? I want to see him."

Merlin was swinging his legs over the bed and preparing to leave. Gwaine took him by the shoulders. "Come on, Merlin, you don't want to do that!"

"I do! Gwaine, please, take me to him—"

"Listen, I don't even know where he is!"

Merlin pushed past the knight, marching to the door. His head swam, but he was currently disconnected from his body. He had to find Gaius. In times like these, he just needed to find his mentor. It would be all right. He had magic. Magic could fix this. He could protect them all with his powers.

"Merlin, no! Stop. Stop moving. Please? How is this going to help?"

The warlock stopped and swerved. "I can still save him!"

"He's dead, Merlin! Gaius is dead!"

"Gwaine!"

Athur had appeared around the corner in the company of the other knights. His expression told Gwaine that next time he'd just leave Merlin in the caring claws of a deranged gryphon. Merlin was clinging to a wall, chest heaving.

"You said you'd tell me when he woke up!"

"I say lots of things!" Gwaine grumbled and went to Merlin's side again. "Arthur, he only just came to a moment ago. He said he wanted to see Gaius."

Merlin lifted his head to look at Arthur. His eyes were red and pleading. The prince stared back, still finding not a single thing to say. A silent moment passed between them.

"All right. I'll take you to him."


Merlin hadn't expected Arthur to grant his request, let alone personally accompany him. He assumed the prince would play protector again. Poor, brittle Merlin had no place facing a foe as great as this. But Arthur said not a word as he was led down one winding staircase after another to reach the vaults. Not until they were just outside the iron bars did the prince stop to mutter a word of feeble encouragement.

"Take whatever time you need..."

The words felt uncomfortable, and Arthur knew Merlin could sense it. Still, his servant nodded, eyes glued to the floor. The doors creaked open. When Arthur didn't follow, Merlin considered turning back. He could already see a shrouded form in the darkness ahead of him, and he shivered against the cold, damp air that so suited the deceased. Merlin might leave now, and then there could always remain some sliver of hope that the man under the blanket was not his mentor. He didn't have to accept this.

But his feet had already started to move. The pedestal was coming closer.

His brain frantically searched for magic words that could solve this. Warm the chill and pump the blood and bring a man back from the dead. But Gaius himself had taught him what sort of magic had the power to resurrect. Merlin had seen it firsthand. Dark magic, that resulted in soulless reanimations. If Gaius was under that blanket, then there was nothing Merlin could do for him.

He was shaking badly. Arthur could see the tremors even from the corridor outside. Merlin's hand had a life of its own as it reached for the edge of the shroud. The form of a face was discernible beneath it. Already it looked much too much like the old white-haired physician.

Merlin paused. He couldn't do this. No. No—no he had to see. He'd do it quickly.

The blanket came down and Merlin turned away with a cry, hands grabbing at his face. His legs shook and then gave up. Arthur came rushing forward when the boy's knees slammed the stony ground. As he knelt with a hand on Merlin's back, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander up to the face on the altar. Stark white, still touched by frost; the glazed eyes stared upward. The mouth was half open, the face set in an expression of surprise. But as with any body, he looked strangely uncanny. As though the person wore a mask, or was just a very realistic copy of the man they knew. The soul made the person, and it was that emptiness of body that confirmed so strongly that yes, indeed, Gaius was gone.