Chapter Thirty-Seven

Hello, everyone!

We're almost to the end. I'm thinking one more chapter and an epilogue after this.

Warning: Bit of a time skip between the last chapter and this one.

Special thanks to my reviewers. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

The wyverns were acting up again.

Elen sighed and pulled her pillow over her head. The beasts had hardly shut up at all during the past weeks. Clearly they missed their master.

At least they liked her, too. Or taking care of them would have been difficult.

The last few weeks had been a blur of watching the scaly creatures, reading, practicing sword maneuvers, and reading some more. Flyta had visited a few times, and Ela twice. The second time she'd brought Hertha, who was apparently restless and lonely with all her siblings gone. The young princess had been fascinated by the wyverns. Cleva even came once. She didn't say much, but Elen found her company pleasant enough.

It had been nice to have visitors to break the monotony of waiting.

Two years ago, I would've gone too…

If she was better with a sword, she could have gone anyway.

But she wasn't, so she was stuck here.

The lack of news drove her nearly mad. She knew someone would come and tell her if word came of something major, but so far there had been nothing. Unless she counted a strange dream of going to sleep on a battlefield. It had only come once.

And this evening she once again had nothing to think about except the wyvern's grumbling and growling.

I'm getting very accustomed to it. So she wasn't worried, just annoyed.

Until one of them started squealing and the rest followed suit.

Lunging to her feet, Elen seized the sword leaning by the bed and raced through the crooked hallway to the front door. The moon was out, the silvery light just enough to see by.

The wyverns were crowding against the fence of their pen, leaning across to shriek at…other wyverns? Three of them, if Elen was seeing it right.

Then she saw the smaller, less startling figure standing beside them, looking at her.

"Hayden?" she gasped, sword falling from her hand as she rushed forward, slowing when she came close. It is him…Even in the dim light she could see his clothes were torn and dirty, his shoulders slouched with exhaustion. He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before.

"Hayden, you're back!" Elen couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face, worried as she was. "How…when…" She glanced at the wyverns, confused. "Where's…Obsidian, right?"

"Dead. So is the crown prince." Hayden said dully. "We won, though."

Elen felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. "Aldwyn's…dead?"

Hayden nodded. "I don't know where your brother is…he was scouting, so he should be fine."

Her emotions in turmoil, Elen managed to say, "I'm…sorry about the wyvern…" Aldwyn, dead...Oh lord, poor Braeden…"Has the army returned?"

"No, Prince Everard sent me back early with an escort. They went on to the city…I just…" he trailed off, his expression oddly blank.

Elen hesitantly stepped forward and put her arms around him. She didn't expect him to collapse against her, shaking.

Is he…crying?

Minutes passed during with the wyverns continued to growl and snarl and Hayden simply leaned into Elen. She kept her grip on him tight.

"Does the smell ever go away, Elen?" he choked out unexpectedly.

"I…what smell?"

"The battle smell."

Elen's mind went back to the skirmishes she'd participated in, and what the aftermath was like. She'd gotten used to it quickly. "Eventually, I think." Since he seemed to be leaning on her a little less, she pulled back to look him in the face. "And you're not going off to war again, I promise." I'd sooner go myself.

She made him go to bed then, before she guided the returning wyverns into the pen. One of them moved very slowly, her head hanging low.

Elen went back inside to find Hayden fast asleep on his bed, having only managed to remove his boots. She pulled a blanket over him, then wrapped another one around herself and sat in a chair at his bedside for the rest of the night.

She was feeding the wyverns the next morning when a rider came from the city, bringing her official word of the victory and the crown prince's death.

When Hayden finally stumbled outside, she was about to ask him if he wanted breakfast when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her firmly. She returned it. Without interupptions, without spectators, they could finally take their time.

He was still badly shaken from what he had seen. At first, it showed in his every word and movement. His overall behavior that of a frightened animal. As the days went by, he slowly relaxed as he and Elen fell into a routine of tending the wyverns, wandering the nearby forest and hills, and talking.

A few days later, word reached them that Gwaine had managed to get his scouting group involved in a pitched battle between Camelot and Amata, which ended in victory for Camelot. Arthur Pendragon had come to the Bernician and Deiran camp to discuss an alliance. The next news they received was that the peace talks had been successful, and the Bernician army was on its way home.

"An alliance with Camelot." Elen commented. "Now I've heard it all." And Gwaine brought it about? Well, he did say Arthur wasn't a bad man…

When Hayden and Elen received news that the army had crossed the borders, they left the wyverns under the watchful gaze of Flyta and rode to the city. They were there in the crowded courtyard when the knights rode in, fewer in number then when they left, the expectant quiet quickly turned into cries of joy and of sorrow as court members rushed forward to meet their loved ones or were reminded of those who would never return.

They watched as the king enveloped his queen in an embrace which lasted for a very long time, as Haralda strode swiftly into the castle without looking at anyone, as a crying Hertha threw herself on her brother Elwin, and as Everard stepped forward and handed what appeared to be Aldwyn's sword to a sobbing, black-clad Braeden.

Then Gwaine appeared out of the crowd, looking as tired as everyone else, yet with a ghost of his usual grin on his face. Ela hugged him first, scolding him, mostly for riding into a battle with no certain allies and only two dozen men. When he managed to fend her off, he turned to Goddard and said, "I kept myself alive, as you can see."

Elen snorted amusedly as their father replied, "And made Arthur Pendragon into an ally as well. You never cease to amaze me."

After embracing his father, Gwaine greeted Hayden and expressed his regret about the lost wyvern. Hayden seemed appreciative, but didn't say much.

Finally Gwaine and Elen faced each other directly. "Greetings, dear sister." he said rather formally. "How have you been managing?"

Elen rolled her eyes and pulled him into a tight hug. "Well enough without you fussing over me, brother."

"I missed you too, Elen."

That night they ate dinner together, just the four of them, plus Hayden. Elen held his hand under the table for most of the meal.

The conversation was overall serious. Gwaine did most of the talking, adding details to what they already knew of the war in the south. He spoke at length about Arthur who apparently, "has some interesting decisions ahead".

The in-depth explanation that followed left Elen unsure whether to be outraged or honored by the realization that she had once gotten into a fight with…and held her ground against…the mighty Emrys.

No wonder the Pendragon never figured it out. Besides the fact he's an idiot…Merlin looks barely able to pick up a weapon, let alone command the forces of the earth.

When the conversation drifted back to the battles, Elen ended up saying, "It sounds like you did well, Gwaine."

Her brother looked down at the table. "Not well enough." he muttered.

He's thinking about Aldwyn. Elen winced, remembering afresh their loss. Oh, Gwaine, it wasn't your fault.

He looked up quickly, a confused expression on his face.

"What?" she demanded after a few seconds.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Ela asked worriedly.

Gwaine merely shrugged. Mildly annoyed, Elen remembered something and asked, "Did you by any chance fall asleep on a battlefield, Gwaine? While the battle was still going on?"

Pause. Then, "How the hell could've you known about that?"

"You did what?" both their parents shouted at the same time.

Gwaine launched into a rambling explanation while Elen exchanged glances with Hayden, who smiled faintly.

Some things will never change.

Given all that had occurred in recent months, that was a comforting thought.

Though, Elen reflected, tightening her grip on Hayden's hand, not all of the changes have been for the worse.

She supposed they all had to hold on to that.

Merlin had drifted through the last few weeks.

Obtaining a truce with Bernicia had been fairly easy, and vastly simplified as there were no border negotiations to worry about. And Harlan was far tamer than he had been at first; in fact, it was Arthur, King Edlin of Deira, and Gwaine who did most of the talking.

The main issue turned out to be Amata itself. The Bernicians had enoughs spoils from the city. Edlin wanted some of the Amatan coast as his own but other than that wasn't interested in the land that far south of his borders. Eventually, Arthur agreed to take responsibility and work out some agreement with the kingdoms surrounding it. Some of the former country would undoubtedly fall under Pendragon rule.

That had been it. The next day they were headed back to Camelot while their new allies returned north. There had been only a brief goodbye between the trio of men who still remained uneasy with each other.

"Am I still banished, Arthur?" Gwaine asked amusedly.

"I suppose not. You did save my life."

"Again."

"I'd tell you to shut up, but it would be discourteous thing to say to a member of a royal family from a distant kingdom."

"Huh. So I'm not allowed to call you a pompus ass, then?"

"Now I'll tell you to shut up."

"Only joking! However, Arthur…do be careful who you decide to keep quiet."

Arthur nodded. "Understood." He and Gwaine clasped hands and murmured brief farewells, then the Pendragon went to join the other knights by their horses.

Gwaine turned to Merlin. "I'll see you again soon, I hope. Take care of yourself."

"Likewise."

Thus Courage, Strength, and Magic had parted ways once again, though perhaps not forever.

I never saw it turning out this way.

At least this time Arthur and Gwaine weren't yelling at each other about relatives and honor.

Merlin had rather liked the Bernicians as a whole, but was glad to turn homeward again, despite uncertaintiy of the future.

Then, on the way back to Camelot, Arthur had unexpectedly asked if he could talk to the dragons. So that evening, while the others set up camp, the king and the warlock had gone to a nearby clearing to meet Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Merlin could honestly say that it was one of the awkwardest conversations he'd ever witnessed. He and Aithusa had stood back and watched while Arthur struggled to choose between being defferent to Kilgharrah or being infuriated with him.

Mostly they argued over the reasonableness of Kilgharrah's earlier attack on Camelot, and neither seemed truly satisfied in the end. Before they parted ways, Kilgharrah had said, "A difficult choice still lies before you, young Pendragon. Choose wisely. Though…I suspect you already have."

Perhaps Arthur had. But he flatly refused to discuss it with Merlin for the rest of the journey and during the following days in Camelot.

The warlock automatically slipped back into his regular duties of serving the king as the aftermath of the war was dealt with and rumors began to spread around the castle. Servants who had been on the campaign heard their masters talking and spoke to others, weaving fantastical tales of the sorcerer who had won the battle and who he might be.

Some of the stories were uncomfortably close to the truth, and Merlin rapidly became accustomed to the whispers and stares which followed him.

Guinevere treated him no differently from before. Percival and Elyan also behaved as they always had around him; Leon seemed a bit more reluctant to trust Merlin wholeheartedly again. Gaius, of course, tried to get the manservant to talk, to open up about the fear which stalked him during the day and stole his sleep every night.

If Arthur was going to kill me or banish me, surely he would have done so by now! But maybe he just feels indebted to me, and reluctant to take action because of that…I wish he'd hurry up and decide what to do with me.

He found himself unable to meet Arthur's eyes anymore.

This uncertainty is…unbearable. It only got worse as time went on.

It was on one of these painfully long days that a guard came up to Merlin while he was doing laundry and told him his presence was required in the council chambers.

As he hurried up several flights of stairs and down multiple corridors, Merlin's palms grew sweaty and his breath became shorter than it ought to given how used to running around the castle he was.

Even if he tries to kill you, you could escape, Merlin reminded himself. He was certain he could incapacitate every guard sent after him without harming anyone, and flee somewhere. Maybe Bernicia. Or, if Arthur simply banishes me, I could live with Mother and guard Camelot from afar…

Merlin dared not hope for a better outcome than that.

The moment he entered the council chambers, however, it became clear that he was not the center of attention. No one even noticed him enter the crowded room. It appeared to be a normal meeting, so he ducked into a corner and waited.

Arthur soon caught everyone's attention and began to speak. "Thank you for convening on such short notice. I have been wrestling with a difficult issue for days now, and as of this morning I believe I know how to deal with it."

Merlin swallowed and Arthur and Gwen looked at each other for a moment. The queen gave an encouraging smile, and the king continued, "I have decided…to revoke the ban on magic."

Several moments passed before Merlin comprehended what had just been said. He's…he's revoking the ban on magic…he's making it legal again…I can stay…

He saw Gwen watching him, and he gave her a weak smile as the room erupted into chaos, knights and advisors all talking at once.

When Arthur finally managed quiet them, he said levelly, "The process will be slow, gradual. We must be careful. Magic can be used for evil; we all know it for a fact. But in time, I hope that magic may return to this land, and be used for the good of all. We will meet again tomorrow to discuss this further. Council dismissed."

The room emptied swiftly; even the queen left. Merlin was about to slip out…Gaius was tending patients at the moment and the warlock wanted to tell him the news…when Arthur called, "Merlin!"

He turned slowly. "Yes, Sire?"

Arthur motioned for the guards to leave and shut the door. Once they had done so and he and Merlin were left alone, the Pendragon said, "I didn't want to bring you into it just yet. It might look a bit suspicious."

Nodding, Merlin managed to say, "Yes, I understand."

"Soon, however, you will need to reveal yourself. Officially." Arthur hesitated. "Will you be prepared to do that?"

"Yes, of course…" After all this time, finally…Still avoiding the king's gaze, Merlin said haltingly, "Arthur…I can't…thank you…"

"Merlin, look at me."

Slowly, Merlin raised his eyes to meet those of his king. Arthur gazed steadily back. "Thank you, Merlin. For everything."

A lump threatening to close his throat, Merlin whispered, "You're welcome."

"And we'll need to talk about all these other times you've saved my life without my knowing."

"They're almost too many to count, Sire, so it could take a while."

"I'm counting on it." Arthur smiled. "I'll need your help, Merlin, if this is to work."

"You'll have it. Like always."

"I know."

Merlin grinned. "Couldn't manage without me, could you, prat?"

"You're still an idiot, Merlin."

"Clot-pole."

"Dollop-head."

"Hey, that was my insult!"

"Too bad; I'm your king and I'll use it when I want to!"

Merlin didn't even try to supress the pure exhileration sweeping through him. He had dreamed of this day for so long, and it was finally here.

Arthur accepts my magic.

In this moment, all was well.

The moon was almost full again.

Gwaine, tired as he was, couldn't sleep. Occasional nightmares, constant worry, the gnawing emptiness that was the loss of Aldwyn…it kept him awake more often than not.

Sitting on a stone bench beside a corridor window, looking out upon the moonlit fells, Gwaine reflected that he'd gone through periods of sleeplessness before. It would pass, eventually. Until then, he was stuck roaming the halls at night, when he wasn't reading up on magic spells.

He almost liked having magic now. Admittedly, complex spells would probably always been beyond him, but he didn't really need them. The simple ones were enough.

Pity Elen didn't get it back, though…she was still better at the whole having magic business.

However, Elen had been rather occupied lately, with Hayden. He had returned to his wyverns, but she visited him what seemed like every other day. Gwaine didn't mind. She was happier than he'd seen her in a very, very long time. Their parents clearly didn't mind, either. Ela seemed satisfied that both of her children were home and sane. Goddard, though more frail than ever, also seemed content. As far as it was possible given current circumstances.

The feast to celebrate victory and honor the dead had been a somber affair for many, especially the royal family. Braeden hadn't even attended; her heart was broken, and her and her daughter's futures were uncertain.

Haralda was more reticent than ever. Harlan was far too quiet, Aldora, too withdrawn. Great-Aunt Gytha told fewer stories. Hertha and Elwin were spending a lot of time together, riding, training with weapons, supporting each other. Their smiles weren't as wide anymore, their laughs less noisy.

Everard…frankly, Gwaine was both impressed and upset. The prince once known for reading and wanting time alone had thrown himself into the duties of crown prince, even though his title wasn't official yet due to his age. He was louder than before, more commanding, yet still restrained enough to retain people's respect.

Aldwyn's death had aged them all in some way. In Everard's case, it had turned him into an adult overnight.

Only a few months ago his biggest worry was if his twin thought he was a ninny.

The war had taken much. But now the kingdom was at peace. Life could continue.

Along that line of thought, Gwaine had continued his mission to make amends with Lady Cleva. It was going well so far. Her mother had been ill and she hadn't been there to greet him when he returned initially, but she had sought him out the day after, happy to see him. In the several weeks since the war's end, they had time for each other, time to ride, to talk, to grow closer. Someday, they might have more than friendship.

Maybe we already do and I'm just being idiotic again. Completely possible.

"Gwaine?"

"Father?" Gwaine turned away from the window. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. I expect you can't as well?"

Gwaine nodded as Goddard eased himself down on the other end of the bench. "If I'm not tossing and turning I'm having nightmares. Can't win either way."

"I know the feeling."

Probably woke up because he's in pain again…"Have you…have you ever had nightmares, Father?"

"Of course. Who hasn't?" Goddard smiled crookedly. "Not often, though."

"Lately I dream of seeing Aldwyn die, even though I wasn't there. Could be considered an improvement over having dreams about me killing people I care about, but…I'd rather have those, honestly."

"I used to have nightmares about you. About what I was afraid would happen to you after you ran away."

Gwaine flinched. "I'm sorry."

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we? Or something similar." Goddard sighed. "I would have expected you to sleep better tonight, honestly. Considering the news we received today."

Gwaine smiled, remembering. "Magic is to be made legal in Camelot. Merlin must be overjoyed."

"And the Pendragon has finally done something right. Perhaps your mother can visit her homeland openly now."

"Maybe."

A pause followed. Then Goddard said, "I've noticed you spending quite a bit of time with Lady Cleva as of late."

"We're figuring things out." Gwaine said, avoiding his father's gaze.

"Should I worry about planning a wedding?"

Chuckling, Gwaine replied, "I'd worry about Elen's wedding to Hayden before mine, Father."

"Indeed."

Gwaine looked out the window again, and was caught off guard when his father said, "I'm proud of you, Gwaine."

Looking back at the older man, Gwaine asked, "What brought this on?"

"Nothing in particular. I just happen to be proud of my son, is all."

"Thank you, Father."

They lapsed into silence. Once again Goddard was the first to break it. "Things could be worse, Gwaine."

"Yeah." Gwaine looked out at the Bernician hills, gleaming in the light of the moon. "Magic in Camelot, peace throughout the land...Well, except in Rheged, but at least they keep it to themselves…things could be far worse than this."

In some ways, they're better.

I have more to talk about in regards to this story, but I'll wait until the next chapter when I'm not updating so late and can think properly. :)

Thanks again, everyone, for sticking with this story for so long!