Epilogue: Hope

A year after the battle, Iseult finds herself atop the parapet and overlooking the construction of a new place, a new city.

With the support of Guinevere, Arthur had laid out the plans for a place where equality and justice will prevail against all else and no one is a slave to any other. In this new city will dwell knight, villager, and Woad, all equal to one another. This grand ideal of Arthur might not immediately produce such an effect, but, with time, differences are overcome and prejudices are laid to rest.

Already, these differences are dwindling as all of the peoples work towards this utopia. In fact, at almost any time of the day, villager and Woad can be found raising beams and setting stones.

Arms from behind gently wrapping around her waist pull her from her thoughts even as the owner of the arms pulls her close.

Turning and leaning ever so slightly to the side, she smiles.

He had almost entirely recovered from his battle with the Saxons. Those who knew him before the battle can tell only the slightest difference in how fluidly he can wield a blade, and his name still remains one to be feared, though never by her.

"Hello, Tristan."

Wordlessly, he returns her smile before looking out at the construction.

"It will not be much longer, I think," he quietly states.

"No, it will not," she agrees returning her own attention to the emerging city.

The two remain like this for quite some time, enjoying the company of each other and of the summer day in contented silence until another visitor comes to stand not far from them.

Iseult looks to the blue-painted, wild-bearded man with no small amount of puzzlement.

Since she had first seen him after the battle, she had thought that, somehow, she owed him a great debt. Try as she may, however, she can never determine why she feels this way. There have been times, fleeting instances, where she thinks she might figure it out but then had, just as quickly, the answer is lost again.

Merlin turns to look at her and Tristan and, for some unfathomable reason, he smiles.

There is something in the smile that seems knowing. It is almost as though he has heard her thoughts and understands. Though no words have passed between them, Iseult feels as though, whatever her debt, he knows that she is grateful.

The man remains at his section of the wall for a few moments longer before walking toward Tristan and her.

At the sound of his approach, Tristan—ears as sharp as ever—turns to look at him and nods.

"Merlin."

"Greetings to you, Knight, and to you, Lady," Merlin replies, a warm light in his eyes. "Pleased to see together the two of you. Hope is mine with the future you have carved, that you will be happy both."

Leaving a very confused Tristan and somewhat less confused Iseult behind him, Merlin turns and descends the stairs without another glance at either.

Tristan, not understanding exactly to what Merlin refers, only shakes his head and looks forward again, arms still around Iseult.

Iseult, however, feels as though her answer has in some way been given and, not wanting to ponder over the matter any longer, she simply leans against Tristan and enjoys the warm summer breeze as they watch the rise of Camelot…