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Haha, nope, I won't even try. Please enjoy. I know you all waited way too long for this. :) And for the beautiful people that pushed me to finally finish this...a million hugs and kisses.

Going Under

Part 4.

'Sam, you know...we made a hell of a team back there.'

-Dean Winchester.

Those lonely minutes of the morning in which I helped Lord Thomas into a sitting position and instructed Bryony to stay with him while I fetched my husband were also the calmest. The rest of the day would be a thunderstorm that would swipe through each and every one of us.

I found Arthur awake. He was staring intently at Merlin's face as if the frown in his face could elicit a reaction from our dear friend. According to the healer, after exchanging a few words with her Merlin had gone back under and had not stirred at all. He looked so peaceful that if I hadn't known better I would've thought him years younger than he really was. However, the gruesome scar in his arm- one that would match all the others scattered around his body- reminded me-reminded us...of the truth.

I placed my hand in Arthur's arm to snap him out of whatever thoughts he was having while staring at Merlin's closed eyelids.

"Arthur..."

He looked around, as if startled, and smiled as when he saw me though his face became somber less than a second after. "Guinevere. What happened?"

"I believe Kent poisoned his father Arthur," his blue eyes flashed as I spoke. "And I believe that he used magic to do it."

My husband sucked a breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking at me again. "And?"

"He lives." I said, allowing a brief smile of alleviation flutter across my face. "But you need to hear what he has to say right now. Arthur, a man like Kent is dangerous. When power has such a hold upon people… who knows what they are willing to do for it?"

He placed a kiss on my forehead. "You are right, of course, Guinevere. We shall go and speak to him at once, He-"

He stopped dead, half-way between getting up his chair and following me, and directed a glance towards our friend, sleeping soundlessly on the makeshift bed.

"Merlin." he said.

"I will stay with him." I offered immediately, pulling his hand so that he would go quickly. "Go to Lord Thomas."

He doubted, flickering his eyes between me and the door.

"I would prefer to have you on my sight, Guinevere."

By the glance he directed at Merlin I knew he was-even if he would never admit it- speaking for Merlin as well. I felt my heart warming up for this extraordinary man and I squeezed his hand tightly with my own as the solution, at that time perfectly acceptable and plausible, left my lips. "I don't want to leave him either. The space between these chambers and Lord Thomas' is short, Arthur. What if we sent Bryony to look after Merlin when we reach him?"

His face lit up, as if that was the answer he'd been expecting although a dim shadow of doubt still flickered deep in his sky blue eyes. But after shaking his head he laughed and said, "You, Guinevere, are brilliant."

With a smile of my own I guided him towards Lord Thomas' chambers, not after Arthur and I both had entrusted the knight who'd remained outside the door to 'guard the man inside at all times.'

Not once but twice he looked back as we walked through the hallways and I still wonder if he, for some reason, could feel what was about to happen.

Nevertheless Arthur continued his way and so did I.

.

There was something that could only be identified as 'utter disbelief' in Bryony's eyes when she saw us enter into Lord Thomas' chambers, our hands clasped tightly together. However it soon faded when Arthur, as if it was everything that he had been thinking of since we left our friend, asked her hurriedly to go and stay with Merlin while we spoke to Lord Thomas.

With one glance into Arthur's eyes Bryony was gone and Arthur's gaze followed her until she was out of sight.

"Arthur Pendragon."

We both turned our heads as the weak whisper reached our ears and I saw a smile flicker upon Lord Thomas' thin lips. He gestured with his hands, hands that Arthur took between his in a few hurried strides as he sat on the man's bedside.

"You remember me."

Lord Thomas' light eyes went through Arthur's every feature, and he said, at last. "Of course I do, my boy. You are all grown up but I would recognize you anywhere."

I saw Arthur's lips curl upwards in a genuine smile I had not seen since the events of...had it actually been less than a few hours? It felt as if we'd been hunching under the burden of anger and worry for a thousand ages.

"I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it is to see you." Arthur said gently, smiling still. Yet his smile faltered and faded a moment later no doubt due to flashes of our friend's predicament going through his mind as he added, "We need to discuss your son. Kent, he-"

"He turned against his own father." said Lord Thomas, shaking his head in grief. I couldn't help but place my hand upon his thin shoulder and he looked up at me with such gratefulness that my own eyes began to water. I knew, from that moment on, that Lord Thomas was nothing like Kent in the same way Arthur's courageous heart bore no resemblance to Uther's.

"He poisoned you." Arthur stated, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"

"He wanted me out of the way." was Lord Thomas' simple answer. "He never saw me as a fit ruler for these lands. I had hinted..." he paused and closed his eyes. "-And it was a rather foolish act I'm afraid- to the revoking of his title as my heir. How could I leave my people, after my death, with a man so wicked and heartless?"

Arthur grimly nodded when the pale eyes of Lord Thomas' sought his own as if waiting for his approval.

"I heard of your coming." Lord Thomas continued on. "and I could barely contain my joy. I had planned to re-institute these lands to your kingdom, My Liege, as I knew, from what I saw of your heart when you were a boy, that you are the ruler my people deserve."

Lord Thomas was, of course, right. Arthur's heart, fueled only by his love for this people, still shines brightly upon us all. I cannot even begin to describe the warmth that I felt upon my chest as Arthur raised his head to meet Lord Thomas' sincere gaze and accept, wordlessly, the offer.

"Your son...he..." Arthur stumbled upon his words as he tried to pull apart his anger from the objectiveness he should show but he was, quite clearly, not doing a good job.

"My Lord." I said gently, slipping my hand into Arthur's and squeezing his fingers while smiling at the frail-looking man. "Kent has gravely injured a friend of ours, a-"

"He tried to hurt my wife." Arthur interrupted his voice heavy with barely contained fury as he returned the squeeze.

"Arthur-"

Arthur did not listen to me. "And now my servant is lying on a bed, wounded, because he protected her." the pure loathing on his words would have made the strongest of men shudder. "I seek retribution with a duel. A mortal one."

Something akin to deep sadness settled in Lord Thomas' tender, pale eyes and he pursed his lips as if Arthur had dealt a heavy blow to his heart. I saw with sorrow that two clear tears slid down his snow-white beard.

"Surely there is another way." I said, looking into Arthur's eyes with a soft plea. "He can be banished from these lands-"

"He tried to kill his own father Guinevere." Arthur answered curtly. But soon enough his eyes were showing signs of heavy grief as he watched Lord Thomas' shed tears for his only son. "I am very sorry old friend." my husband said in a sympathetic whisper. "But I cannot let this offense go."

Lord Thomas shook his aged head as Arthur spoke, grasping my husband's free fingers tightly between his own.

"Do not mistake my tears for anything else but a father's love towards his only son, My Lord." he said in a soft whisper. "I always knew that Kent's actions would be his downfall. He has nothing but hatred in his heart and I understand your need to impart justice. It is clear to me," he directed me a glance full of deep sympathy and a softness that made my heart flutter on my chest. "that if he wanted to hurt this wondrous woman whom you have the blessing of calling your wife that my son is lost to me completely. You may do as you wish, Arthur."

After Arthur nodded the old man closed his eyes ( for a heart-stopping moment I thought that his hour had come) and leaned back on his pillows. Arthur and I watched him with apprehension but when it became clear that he had only fallen asleep I let out a sigh of relief that was cut short by the sudden thought that hit me.

He was giving Arthur permission to do the very thing I was trying to avoid and I could not watch it happen and sit idly.

"Arthur," I whispered, squeezing his hand so that he would look at me. The determination in his eyes bore right through me. "Remember he was using magic...it would not be a fair fight-"

"I doubt he has magic, Guinevere." Arthur dismissed my concern with a breathy laugh, leaning over so that he could whisper in my ear. "If even Merlin could knock a tooth out of him, there is no way he is a sorcerer."

"Merlin is stronger than what you give him credit for."

"Fair point." agreed Arthur. "But he has no fighting skills whatsoever which means that Kent keeps being an overbearing, snobby little boy."

I could see his logic and, at that time, it calmed me a little. Though Merlin's frightened voice kept resonating through my mind I let Arthur's unwavering confidence wash over me and bring much needed, though weak, solace.

"Isn't there another way?" even as I asked the question I knew that Arthur's pride would be answering and thus, I would receive the answer I did not want to hear.

But I was wrong, for there was no pride in Arthur's voice but rather an unadulterated and uncontainable emotion that I had barely heard in his voice.

"No Guinevere, there is not."

It was the need for revenge.

.

The duel took place on the early morning, when the first light stroked the horizon.

How can I explain the invisible hand that squeezed my heart as Arthur placed his helmet above his head, took his sword and kissed me goodbye? There are no words for the nagging that was eating away my stomach, nor is there a way to describe my heavy soul. I watched, helplessly so, as Arthur left my side and signaled for the men standing on either side of a bounded Kent to let him go, kicking the ground as Kent rose, picked up his own weapon and fixed Arthur with one long, undefinable and painful look that held such loathing in it I thought if it were possible, we would all drown in it.

Yet, Arthur's own gaze held within a sea of rage and fury, storming in his sky-blue eyes and filling his face with a stone-like facade, one that he did not break, not for a moment, as he ordered everyone to take a step back and leave the arena.

He still had a blackened eye. Good.

Maybe I should have seen it. Maybe I should have seen it in the confidence that Kent exhibited when a day after he'd been terrified at the prospect of a duel with Arthur. But I did not, I did not and even now I wonder how I could have...

It happened rather quickly. Arthur had not been lying. The man before him had not one drop of talent, nor one of honor. He fought as an untamed horse, lashing out and hitting almost drunkenly, forgetting everything a knight should know when in duel. Arthur seemed to dance around him, delivering blow after blow, blocking and hitting as if he was a graceful predator... and suddenly it was over. Kent was bent on the floor with Arthur's blade precariously balancing over his jugular.

"Please..." I heard the dishonorable man gasp in true fear for his life. "Please let me go, I'm sorry, I-"

Arthur's eyes were hard as stone and I could tell that he, as I, was remembering those first horrifying moments in which we'd found Merlin. "Tell me one good reason why I should."

"Arthur."

As if it was an answer to Kent's prayer the soft mention of my husband's name by that voice snapped Arthur out of his rage. Blinking against the rising sun he settled his gaze on the figure standing on the edge of the arena at the same time I did and smiled in true delight.

It was Merlin, though clearly weary and pale, but still our dear friend, boring with his eyes Arthur's own.

"Merlin." Arthur breathed.

It was as if they both were taking comfort in the fact that each other was alright ( and I am sure they were,) before, with a quick nod, Merlin made his way slowly through the crowd until I could see him standing in the bordering line that divided the tournament arena from the spectator's soft grass.

"He's not worth it Arthur." said Merlin gently though his body tensed, as if ready to pounce at any moment. Yet his gaze was fully concentrated on Arthur's own and I could see Arthur's hand tremble ever so slightly.

"Please, Arthur." Merlin continued. One of his hands extended, as though it was an inborn instinct, towards my husband. "Just put the sword down."

And Arthur...did.

The weapon clattered to the ground as Arthur kicked Kent so that he would stand up and at the same time signaled the guards to come and bound him. For a brief moment ( it would be fixed in my memory forevermore) he looked into my eyes.

And then he gave Kent his back, walking towards Merlin and smiling that bright grin that he wore in those rare moments in which he let all pretense go and he was just Arthur, a man who thought he'd been about to lose his-our-very best friend.

I still remember the silence around us as the world held still for just one second while Arthur and Merlin looked at each other with identical, boyish grins. The lightheartedness in the air was short lived.

Suddenly, Kent was on his knees no more.

There was such a subtle flash of his eyes that I think I would've missed it if I hadn't been watching so closely. The man jumped to his feet with surprising agility, took hold of his sword and then-

Then he pounced towards the general direction of the crowd.

Screams blossomed when all of the spectators rushed backwards in panic and as Kent ran through the arena I felt my heart skip a beat as I thought of-

Merlin.

Merlin, still standing there as if he hadn't quite seen the man running towards him. Perhaps, I remember thinking with terror, he could not run.

But Arthur had seen it too, maybe even before I did, and he dashed towards Merlin at the exact same time- forgetting, for a moment, that his sword was on the ground and not in his hands...

It was then when, with a quick turn of his heels, Kent changed his course and sprinted on the contrary direction.

By the time it became clear what was about to happen and my mouth opened, wide in horror, to scream Arthur's name...It was too late.

It was too late as Kent let his own sword fall to the ground, it was too late as Arthur stopped dead, startled, trying to take hold of his blade and finding only an empty scabbard. It was too late, far too late, when this unforgivable man swung his sword and my husband screamed as he dodged it, falling to his knees.

He'd known, I'm sure of it now. He'd known that he'd never defeat Arthur and his only chance was to distract him...

Kent spoke, then. "I really did underestimate your stupidity, Pendragon. Leaving your weapon behind? You should've known better than to try and save the servant."

My heart stopped when he approached Arthur with a raised blade and an unmoved semblance. His eyes, two bright points of black hate, seemed to burn with dark fire.

How I longed to be able to move, to reach the man I loved before the unthinkable happened, to take the blow and spare him all suffering! But I was too far...way too far. I could never reach him in time, I-

"ARTHUR!"

The scream though, was not mine

I would recognize the voice who'd lashed out with such desperation anywhere.

Merlin.

I will try to explain what happened next to the best of my ability. I saw Bryony from the corner of my eye, looking on with a truly pained expression on her withered face, saw Arthur whip his head around at the same time Merlin flashed through the arena as if he'd never been hurt and was in the prime of his youth, felt my own legs beginning to sprint towards where Arthur and my closest friend were, saw Kent's eyes glow with malice as he now raised his fallen blade above his head-

Only to be held back by a firm but pale hand wrapping itself around his wrist.

Merlin has never looked as frightening as he did in those moments. Even though he was pale, bandaged and his hair was a mess... the sheer determination in his eyes- a hawk protecting its hatchling- would've set the man's face of fire.

However, no matter how truly menacing he looked he was still weak and though his grip was strong Kent managed to free his hand. But he was no longer focused on Arthur, instead, he turned towards an defenseless Merlin with that sharp blade and swung it.

I think that, for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Merlin claimed later that it was all thanks to Arthur ( somehow he'd picked something up from Arthur's training.) but I still believe that it was pure luck. Or maybe it was the fact that Arthur screamed from the ground,

"Merlin, duck!"

Merlin obeyed without delay and the sword cut through air above his head. Kent spurned around, eyes blazing, and then went towards Arthur who looked helplessly around and could not find anything to defend himself with...

However, he didn't need to. I still don't know how Merlin managed to pick himself up so quickly but he was crawling on his elbows just one moment later, reaching Kent at the same time the wicked man readied himself to strike. My dear friend wrapped his hand around Kent's ankle with a grunt and the Lord toppled to the ground face first, biting dust quite literally.

I would've laughed at my husband's face if the circumstances weren't as dire and I hadn't been busy picking a sword of my own from one of the guards. Arthur allowed himself one moment to look bewildered before he was climbing to his knees.

"Merlin!"

With one look towards his eyes, my dear friend did what Arthur had wordlessly asked for. ( till this day he refuses to tell me how he did it.) He reached out and grabbed Kent's fallen sword, hurling it above Kent and directly into Arthur's open hand.

My husband caught it - yet Merlin did not even aim -and then they shared a wide grin as though they were on the training field back in Camelot.

But as Arthur rose to his feet Kent bent his knee and then gave one mighty kick-

"You filthy servant!"

It landed on Merlin's right arm.

The scream that tore my best friend's throat should've not been possible.

My legs started moving again and, for the strangest of moments, everything went mute as I saw Bryony limping towards them too and Arthur's face morph and become an otherworldly sight as he roared Merlin's name.

I remember- I remember thinking that Merlin had been through enough and he did not deserve any of this and knowing with a certainty that was disconcerting that this was the way he got his scars. I remember Arthur and his uncharacteristic gasp at the exact moment Merlin screamed in pain.

Then, finally, I was there and as Arthur struggled to get up I was the one who ran Kent through with the sword.

After the blade ripped through flesh there was only silence.

I think that no one, not even I, expected that.

Kent looked at me, looked at the servant that I had been through my eyes and with an 'o' shaped mouth fell to the ground. And then, for him, it was over. He lay on the ground, bleeding, and not one soul made anything to aid him.

"...Merlin."

The shock would come later. I could not care less as Kent exhaled one last breath because I turned around and saw Arthur kneel besides Merlin, placing two trembling hands on my dear friend's shoulders and trying- but failing- to stop their shaking.

Even now I think I saw Arthur's back visibly lessen its tension when Merlin spoke, curling his fingers around Arthur's wrist. "I'm alright Arthur-" he assured him soothingly and that toothy grin of his was akin to a rising sun. " There's nothing to worry about. It just hurt that's all."

"You're bleeding." said Arthur, grabbing Merlin's hand and turning it so that he could see better the thin line that ran through our friend's pale palm.

As I knelt beside them Merlin rubbed the back of his head. "Guess I didn't duck that quickly."

I couldn't have retained the laugh that left my lips even if I wanted too. "It's just a scratch." I said, and I thought I'd never heard anything more beautiful. "Thank God. Is just a scratch."

But it still bled. And as Arthur ripped part of his sleeve ( apparently forgetting that the seamstress had made it with the finest wool from Mercia.) and tried to clumsily wrap it around Merlin's wound I reached out to hug my dearest friend and let a smile touch my lips as I closed my eyes on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Merlin."

When Bryony reached us this time Arthur didn't even flinch before she placed her wrinkled hands upon Merlin's and asked for my King's permission.

Arthur nodded with a clenched jaw and soon a new scar zigzagged along Merlin's pale palm.

A scar matching all the others.

.

Lord Thomas let only one tear fall.

I was the one who told him that his son was dead- dead by my hand- and asked with a bowed head for his forgiveness. I've never, not even now, regretted what I did. And even if later Arthur congratulated me for what he deemed a noble and brave act and said that he, better than anyone, understood the shock that killing could bring, it still didn't affect me in the way everybody thought it would.

For me the worst was seeing this father cry over his son and knowing that I was the one who'd taken him away. But then, as I looked over to were Arthur and Bryony supported Merlin ( who, despite the fight he'd put earlier, still needed to recover) I felt a tiny smile on my lips. Because they were alright, both of them, and I had not lost them.

"My dear Lady-" Lord Thomas stopped me from continuing my apology with the kindness of his eyes. "I do not blame you. He was my son but a wicked soul nevertheless." he turned towards Arthur and, for a reason that still eludes me, those blue eyes twinkled when they focused on Merlin. "Now, Arthur, I can truly say without any fear for rebellion or anarchy- this kingdom is yours. You are the only one worthy enough to govern over my people."

When Arthur received the official seal from Lord Thomas' withered hands he turned to me,

"This is your victory, Queen of my heart." he said and I'd never seen such pride in his eyes.

But I knew that, in the end, Arthur was mistaken. This new achievement had been possible only because of the man hidden in the shadows-

"Merlin."

I still remember quite distinctly the way his eyebrows reached almost a Gaius' like height and then said, "me?"

"Yes, you." I answered, placing a hand in his arm and looking up at him. "You, Merlin. You are the true hero."

The smile that blossomed on his face as I said it...I'll always hold it dear in my heart.

And, as if fate had decided to make the moment even sweeter, Arthur was suddenly beside me. "Guinevere is right." he said, placing one arm around my shoulders and smiling at our Merlin. "Thank you, old friend."

Merlin's wide smile softened. "Arthur I-"

"Not only for this." said Arthur, putting one solid hand on Merlin's shoulder. I looked up at him and saw his Adam apple bobble with emotion. "For everything. For protecting Guinevere. For the things I don't know and the things unsaid as well. You are a loyal friend, Merlin."

The joy that radiated from Merlin's eyes marveled my heart.

.

In the end, there was no treaty to sign.

Lord Thomas gave Arthur every right to his lands, signed every parchment with the enthusiasm of a young man and as Arthur sat with him and spoke about his vision of a land united under a single banner the old Lord cried.

Then, after one last banquet, we took our leave. I waited by the stairwell while Merlin and Bryony whispered to each other and I felt my eyes grow tender as the old woman embraced my friend with the same warmth a mother would a son. With one last goodbye my dear friend smiled and turned towards me, waving.

It was then when I saw Arthur, putting on his gloves as he went down the stairs.

Without any warning he stopped and turned towards Bryony and Merlin, now by my side, grinned with such joy that my heart fluttered. I couldn't help but smile when I heard what was being said,

" I need to reconsider..." Arthur said with great effort. "You've given me a lot to think about."

Bryony's tender eyes became even more gentle as she answered. "I am sure I did, Arthur Pendragon."

"Thank you..." even though I could only see the back of Arthur's blond head the gratitude in his voice spoke of the gratefulness present in his eyes. "For...for Merlin."

"You needn't thank me Arthur Pendragon." said Bryony. She nodded towards us. " Not me but Merlin."

With a small shake of his head Merlin climbed down the last few steps and I turned towards him. Merlin would never know it but Arthur's small answer ' I owe him more than I know don't I?' was laced with an awe that I'd never heard in him.

To think that, only mere days ago, I'd been so close to losing this tall, goofy, extraordinary man forever.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Gwen?"

"Thank you." If I only knew how to express through those two simple words what I felt. But a look into Merlin's eyes told me that he, somehow, already knew.

"You don't need to thank me Gwen." he answered softly, bowing his head so that I could see the twinkle in his eyes. "I would do anything for you, you know that. I would do it for a friend."

Yet I know the truth. For Arthur, he meant to say.

My heart swelled within my chest as I squeezed his hand and tried to understand how we'd been as lucky as to deserve a man- a friend- like him. I traced the scar in his palm with my fingers and even though I felt the urge to ask about the rest of his...battle-wounds- right there and then I did not. The joy on Merlin's eyes was too precious to break.

So I said instead,

"You and Arthur...you made a great team back there. If I didn't know you-" I paused and wrapped my arm around his to help him march on. "I'd say you used some kind of magic to read his mind."

Quite unexpectedly, he threw his head back and laughed.

'...Yeah.'

-Sam Winchester.

Couldn't resist writing some BAMF! Gwen. It is practically canon after the finale. :D

Again, thank you for being so patient. I don't have an excuse for this but I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless. :D