A/N: I don't really know how to introduce this next piece. It's been batting around in my head for a few days, now.

I suppose I should say this: Ilenna is an OC of mine, introduced in Cripple and given a slight backstory in Nod. In my headcanon, she is Merlin's first and closest apprentice. I actually have quite a story for her that I might eventually write and publish, but as is, I'm hesitant to include her in much because she is, however much I like her, an OC, and people usually don't like to be bothered by OCs, especially female OCs, and especially female OCs who become close friends with the canon characters. Still, I wanted to get this scene out of my head so it'd stop bugging me. It has a back story behind it that I could but haven't written down, but… yeah. I'll just leave it at that.

They finished eating dinner, and moved into comfortable conversation. However, Ilenna didn't fail to notice how dark and slack Merlin's eyes had become. She'd been concerned about him ever since their close call at Riverwood; she knew he needed his rest. So she let the conversation die out gently on her own account, gave her former mentor a smile, and rose.

"It's late, we should both be in bed. You especially," She gave him a motherly chastising look, and didn't understand the sudden panic on his face. She ignored it. "Good night, Merlin,"

"No," his voice was so abrupt, so urgent, that she froze where she was. He flushed darkly. "No, Ilenna, I…" He froze, and swallowed, trying far too late to compose himself. "You don't have to go just yet," he said.

"Merlin," her face shone with worry, but she smiled at him graciously, "It's very nearly midnight by now."

"I'm not tired," he said too quickly. She crossed her arms.

"I have eyes, Merlin, and you look fit to faint any moment. Your body is still recovering, you need rest."

"Iknow that, I'm just not… tired."

Ilenna was frowning at him. "Merlin, you need sleep."

"I can't!" And neither of them were really expecting the anger that came out in the words. He hesitated when he saw her shocked expression, and lowered his face into his hands. "I can't," he repeated, weakly this time. Confused but concerned, Ilenna went back towards him and sat down at his side.

"Merlin?" She asked, and tentatively placed a hand on his back. He didn't move.

"I can't sleep," his voice was muffled from his position, "I can hardly close my eyes. Every time… I can only see them," He growled, "Them, and their torches, and stakes and… and hatred…" Ilenna wasn't sure what the strange tone in his voice was, because in all the years of her apprenticeship, she'd never seen Merlin cry. His back began to shake under her hand. She rubbed it comfortingly.

"Merlin?" She said, very quietly. "Are you… have you been having nightmares?"

He shook his head. "No," He told her, "no, that's just it. They're not nightmares, not anymore. They're memories. I wish they werejust dreams. But I have the burns to prove it." Ilenna looked irresistibly to the bandages on his arms and legs, to the one peeking out at the top of his collar. "I can forget them in the daytime, but at night… sleep has become hell." He paused, and when Ilenna didn't say anything, continued, "And I can't… I can't go there again. I can't sleep. I won't." His voice cracked violently, and Ilenna wasn't sure what to do. She'd never seen him like this. He started to shake again."Please, Ilenna I can't, … please don't leave me with them again. Please don't leave me here alone," He was begging. Begging. Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time, a well-respected lord in his own right, the rock of stability throughout her apprenticeship, and a happy, encouraging friend in even the hardest times, was begging. Begging her, through tears and a broken voice, to help him. And she hadn't the slightest idea what to do.

"Merlin," she almost whispered, unsure of herself. And then she realized with some trepidation that her mentor had dissolved into tears that he couldn't speak through, and she could only react instinctively. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to her.

It was awkward, but she wasn't going to let go for the world. She'd never had siblings, or close friends, anything or anyone who would accustom her to physical comforts with other people. But skies be damned, Merlin was too important for her own social ineptitude to get in the way. So whether it was the right thing to do or not, she pulled him into a hug, and eventually found his head with her hand. She'd seen Guinevere comfort the young Amhar this way, running her hand through his hair and across his back. Perhaps it was the right thing to do, because Merlin didn't pull away, and he only wept, harder with each second, into her shoulder.

She knew he had full reason to be upset, but she also knew that the lack of sleep was making matters worse. She knew first hand that even small upsets could be blown out of proportion by insomnia; Merlin's upset was by no means small, but his sleepless nights were not helping.

His face was smashed into the hollow of her shoulder, his tears and sniffles making a sloppy mess of her dress, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. This was Merlin. He could make a mess on her if he wanted to, because he was hurting, and she couldn't care about anything more than that.

"Merlin," She whispered, trying not to think about how it was bit odd for her to be holding him, when he was so much taller and broader than her, "gods, Merlin, why didn't you tell anyone?"

He sniffed and spoke haltingly through his irregular breaths. "I don't… Arthur would have made a fuss, and overreacted for weeks. Gwen would … would have mothered me to death. I don't… I don't need pity, Ilenna. I don't need… smothering. I just need… to not be alone." His breath hitched again, and he hiccupped back another sob. Ilenna could feel a painful ache in her throat as she reached back up to brush his hair again.

"You're not alone, Merlin, I'm here. I'm not leaving."

He hiccupped again, and nodded wordlessly. She hadn't realized that he'd wrapped his arms around her until he hugged harder, holding on as if she was the only thing left. It actually hurt, but she let him. Eventually, his breaths evened, and sobs subsided. He drew back, face downcast to hide the aftereffects of crying. He sniffed with gross noises, and had to hold a hand to his nose. He looked at her and grimaced.

"Lord, your dress, Ilenna, I'm sorry,"

"It's just a dress, Merlin," she told him, and rose. She fetched a handkerchief for him. As he cleaned himself up, she continued to brush the ends of his hair and top of his back. It seemed to calm him, so eventually she said,

"Merlin, I know it hurts, but… you need to sleep."

He shook his head.

"I won't leave. I'll sit by you all night, if that's what you need, but Merlin, you need to sleep. You're spent completely, and avoiding it is only making it worse." Her voice was soft, but firm. He sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Not… not in my room," he whispered. "It makes it worse." She nodded.

"Alright. Go get changed. I'll make up a spot for you out here, alright?" He nodded wordlessly again, and shuffled off to find sleep clothes. When he came back, she'd gathered up quilts and pillows and piled them on the couch. She'd also spelled them to make them more comfortable, but she wouldn't tell him that. He half lay, half fell into the makeshift bed, and curled the quilts around him like a cocoon. She'd pulled an armchair close to the couch and pulled a blanket up around herself, settling in for an uncomfortable but necessary half-sleep near her former mentor.

"Ilenna?" Merlin's voice was still raw from crying, "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank, Merlin," Ilenna said, and wondered to herself at how far they'd come. It was perhaps the first time she realized that he was not her master, that she was not his apprentice. They were both just human beings, flawed and hurting each in their turn, friends for each other when those times came. "Get some rest. I'll be here."

It sounded like he said 'thank you' again before drifting off, but it wasn't long before his breaths evened out and she knew he was well and truly asleep. She'd nodded off herself, but was awakened again what felt like moments later when he started thrashing and crying out in his sleep. She sat up and reached out over to grab his arm.

"Merlin, stop," she said, only half aware of the words that come out of her half-asleep mouth, "Merlin, you're alright," And he calmed down just a little. "ácwiðee swefnae, nihtslæp." The sleeping spell seemed to do the trick, and he went limp and quiet once more, sinking back into his bed restfully. His arm fell, but Ilenna held onto his hand. "You're not alone, Merlin," she told him, even though he was asleep and she was about to become so. "You have friends here. We… I won't leave. You're not alone." And she drifted back into her own slumber. As she did, she knew in the back of her mind that this was far from over, that Merlin had real physical and psychological scars that would be hurting for a long time. But she knew that for life to go on, all wounds had to heal. And sometimes, healing came like this: long nights slept in an uncomfortably cramped armchair with a too-thin blanket and someone else's tears and snot all over your dress. But it also came with the reward of Merlin's peaceful breathing, the sleep sinking into his features, the promise that he could, was going to heal, in time.

They both slept in the next morning, and when their friends found them in the streaming light of a summer morning, their hands were still intertwined and resting between them.