Here's another one! Early happy Memorial Day, or happy Friday, or happy midterms, or something. Whatever y'all are doing, I hope it's going well for you. This here is one of the "big" chapters, one of the ones I have had planned out since the very beginning and have been looking forward to. Things are really gonna start happening here soon, and I'm excited about it. Hopefully y'all are too.

In other news, I have found a few typos and such in earlier chapters and was thinking about going in and fixing them. I don't know if sends out notifications every time a chapter is updated or not, but I just figured I would give you all a heads up in case you are suddenly spammed with notifications and there aren't any new chapters. Feel free to ignore them, I am not going to be changing anything in the story, only fixing small mistakes here and there. There will be no need to go back and reread anything. In Chapter 3 I misspelled assess as asses, which really changes the meaning of the word. It's just stuff like that.

Chapter XXV

With the help of their new horses, the group was making good time. They had left their single tired mare with Hugh, the innkeeper, as a sort of gift to thank him for his hospitality. The further they rode, the more familiar their surroundings became. Thankfully, the countryside was also becoming greener and more full of life. Arthur was glad to know that the decay that had plagued the northern lands hadn't reached his own kingdom.

He wondered again why the northern king had done nothing so far to combat the issue. Perhaps he was unaware of the cause. Arthur made a mental note to send word to the king when they got home. If the two kingdoms could form an alliance, defeating the enemy would become much easier. As it was, he could hardly bring his armies into another kingdom's land without warning or permission, doing so would start a war. Without an alliance he would be forced to wait for the Mirror to come to him, and he did not love that idea. Maybe he should invite the king to Camelot...Then again, the man was reportedly a hermit and rarely left his castle. Arthur might have to go to him.

He grimaced at the thought of making the journey all the way back. Right now, he just wanted to get home to Camelot and never leave again. I hate politics.

As they rode through a crossroads, Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized Merlin had stopped. Arthur brought his own horse to a stop and turned to look at his quiet servant.

As they had traveled, the closer the party got to Camelot the more cheerful they had become, with the exception of Merlin. He had fallen quieter and quieter each day, and now, with Camelot less than a day away, he had barely spoken a word all morning. Arthur knew Merlin had been reluctant to return for reasons still unknown to him, and it seemed that he was apprehensive now that they were so close.

His mental barriers were apparently up, because Arthur could only guess at how Merlin was feeling at the thought of seeing everyone again.

"Merlin?" Arthur questioned when Merlin didn't resume riding.

Merlin didn't react in any visible way. He looked distracted, and stared down a side road, brow furrowed slightly. Arthur followed his gaze, confused when he saw the road was empty. He wondered if Merlin was seeing something that wasn't there again, and was about to ask when it hit him.

That road led to Ealdor.

Arthur sighed, pulling his horse around to go back and stand beside Merlin's. He stretched out his arm and tapped Merlin on the shoulder. "We do not have the time for a visit now. After you have recovered more, we can try to make it out."

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, his frown deepening. "Visit?" He asked, confused. "What is down there? It seems familiar, but..."

Arthur returned the frown. "Ealdor."

Merlin just blinked at him, uncomprehending.

Arthur thought back to when Merlin had told him about how he had forgotten things, some of them on purpose to keep the information safe when the sorcerers invaded his mind. It made sense that he would hide away his mother's home. She would have been an easy target if they ever decided to use her against him.

"Your village, Merlin. Where you grew up."

Understanding flickered across Merlin's features, and Arthur felt a hint of bitterness from him before Merlin got it under control again.

"Oh." He said flatly, staring down the road again.

"We will write a letter, invite her to come see you. Whenever you are ready."

Just as fast as it had gone, the confusion was back. "Who?"

Arthur blinked. Surely Merlin couldn't have forgotten his mother? "Hunith? Your mother?"

Merlin's grip tightened in the horse's mane and Arthur could feel his confusion, tainted with distress. He had been getting better the last few days at recognizing which emotions were his and which were Merlin's. "My mother is dead."

Merlin said it with such conviction that for a second, Arthur almost believed it himself. "Merlin, I saw her a few months ago. While we were looking for you we passed through Ealdor a few times, I spoke with her."

Merlin's eyes widened, searching Arthur's face for any sign of a lie. "N-no, she died years ago." Arthur could feel Merlin's distress rising, and he fought to shove it down before it started affecting him too. "After I came to Camelot, she got sick. It was my fault, she died, I couldn't save her."

This complicated things. He had assumed that Merlin had merely forgotten things, but apparently his mind had also created false memories to protect his loved ones. What else did he believe that was false?

Arthur shook his head, grasping Merlin's shoulder to steady him. "No, Merlin. I do not know what you are talking about, but your mother is alive and well. I swear it, we spoke with her while you were gone."

Merlin sucked in a shaky breath and looked back to the road, desperation in his eyes. "But...I remember─" He cut himself off, face darkening as he must have come to the same realization Arthur had. Merlin had only just begun to be able to trust what was real again, and now he couldn't even trust his own memories anymore.

"We will write a letter." Arthur promised again.

Merlin just nodded, falling back into his silence, eyes distant.

"Are you alright?"

Merlin didn't respond, just turned his horse around and nudged it onwards. Arthur looked helplessly towards the knights, and saw them all watching Merlin. Alymere and Percival looked sympathetic and sad, but Gwaine looked pissed off again. Arthur knew he wasn't angry at Merlin, but this had been his default emotion around him for weeks now and he barely spoke to him anymore. It was getting concerning, and Arthur was tired of being so damn concerned all the time.

Only a few more kilometers. By nightfall, we will be home, and everything can start going back to normal.

He wasn't sure he even remembered what "normal" was.

It took several long minutes of uncomfortable silence before Gwaine finally broke it with a story about Camelot for Gail and Callum. It was awkwardly forced at first, but soon the knights and the northerners were chatting casually amongst themselves and making plans of all the things they would do first. Popular among the things listed was bathing, which everyone seemed to agree they were all overdue for.

Only Arthur and Merlin stayed quiet, the former lost in thought and the latter lost wherever it was he went when he got like this. Sometimes Merlin would get distant, almost catatonic for a while, sometimes he just got quiet and stopped speaking to people. But ever since the time Callum had Dreamwalked into Merlin's nightmare, his episodes had been brief. Whether it lasted hours or only minutes, he always came back now. Arthur clung to this every time, telling himself that steps backwards were probably normal, and as long as he had made more steps forwards than he was making backwards, he would be alright.

By nightfall we will be home.

Of course, that was the problem, wasn't it? Merlin, for whatever reason, no longer felt like he belonged in Camelot. Arthur had tried to push that out of his mind, but now that they were so close he could no longer ignore it.

Whatever it was, it probably had to do with Merlin's big secret he still wouldn't talk about. Pushing him on it was not an option. If it was just him being psychic, then Arthur's changing attitude towards such topics should be enough, right? He had a feeling that the secret was much bigger than that, though, considering what he had said about keeping it to protect Arthur. He had seemed to believe that it would hurt Arthur to know, and badly. If it was just the revelation that Merlin's "funny feelings" were more accurate than he had let on, he wouldn't be so afraid of it.

An uncomfortable possibility came to him, and he instinctively looked toward Merlin. Merlin looked back, no doubt feeling something odd through their...connection. Damn, I really need to figure out this blocking thing, he thought fleetingly.

If Merlin had fraudulent memories in his head, it was possible that this big horrible secret wasn't even real. If Merlin could change his memories, it was possible that the sorcerers could have as well. They were rooting around in his mind for months, they could have done anything and Merlin was hardly in a state to realize. They could have made him believe that there was something huge and terrible keeping him from going home, as a way to prevent him from escaping. What better way to break someone than to make them believe they have nothing left to protect or return to?

This problem might be much more complicated than he had thought. If he didn't know what the problem was, he could not determine whether it was real or false. Clearly, asking Merlin wasn't an option. He couldn't very well wait and hope he saw whatever it was in a dream, and besides, Merlin was getting better at controlling that.

Was this what the old man had meant when he said that he had to find Emrys to save Merlin? Emrys would know what the sorcerers did to Merlin, he was supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. If he did not know then no one would, surely.

This, of course, only led to another problem: how to find the damn wizard in the first place. He had hidden himself so effectively for years that Arthur had not even known he existed, yet he was powerful enough to raze an army to the ground and melt the stone of the mountain pass into glass. If Emrys did not want to be found, Arthur couldn't see how he could hope to find him. If they were lucky, Emrys would just come to him. He did not seem to be so invested in hiding anymore, if all the fire he was throwing around was any indication. They were due for a little luck, weren't they?

Arthur resisted the urge to groan, but only barely. There was no way they were that lucky. The old man's prophecy had said he had to find Emrys, not that he had to lounge around and wait for Emrys to knock on his door for tea.

He could feel the stress mounting, like a physical thing that threatened to suffocate him. Merlin, the Mirror, the impending talks with the northern king, Emrys, Merlin, magic, the new laws he still had no idea where to start with, destiny, the dissent that was no doubt waiting for him due to his absence, this whole soul thing he still wasn't sure what to feel about, Merlin...It was all too much, a staggering mass of problems, and he found himself doubting his ability to deal with it on his own. One wrong step and he could destroy everything.

He was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts when Merlin rode up on his right side and softly nudged Arthur's arm without a word.

Arthur met his concerned gaze with a reassuring smile, feeling some of the anxiety recede. It was an impossible amount of pressure for a single man, but he had Merlin at his side now. By tomorrow, he would have Guinevere, Gaius, Leon, and an entire council of lords and advisors to help him. He was not alone.

Merlin looked like he wanted to ask something, but ultimately just nodded and turned his head forward again.

Watching Merlin's gaunt features withdraw further into himself, an idea began brewing in Arthur. It wasn't a solution to any of their many problems, but perhaps it could be another small step forward. Maybe that is all they needed to do; keep taking small steps, chipping away at the insurmountable troubles gradually.

Arthur was not giddy. Giddiness was for girls and children and Merlin, not for Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.

No, he was merely eager. An entirely reasonable feeling.

When he had announced their detour an hour ago most of the group had complained. Everyone was exhausted, damp, and longing for civilization, so they didn't understand why Arthur was suddenly leading them away from the direct route to the front gates. Arthur declined to give any explanations, simply stating that it was a surprise. They had whinged and groaned, but when Arthur invited them all to continue on without him and Merlin they had declined and gone along with it begrudgingly. They had waited this long, they could wait an extra few hours.

So now the troop found themselves circling around in a most indirect manner and riding up a hill on the outskirts of Camelot. The air felt damp and their breaths came out in puffs of vapor from the fog, but luckily the clear weather was holding for a little longer. His plan would be considerably less effective in the rain.

"Arthur, where are we?" Merlin mumbled quietly from beside him, having just regained his voice. Arthur took that to mean that he did not recognize his surroundings, but that was alright. He already knew that he had forgotten what this area looked like.

"I know it is hardly your strong suit, but try to be patient, Merlin." Arthur teased, stubbornly refusing to answer the question.

"You have no idea how patient I can be." There it was again, that tone that Arthur was beginning to be so vexed by. A tone that hinted at mystery and secrets and a hint of longing. He could no longer dismiss it as just Merlin being odd, but neither could he call attention to it now, so he tucked it away in his mind like he did with everything else these days and fell back on the familiar banter.

"How could I, if you never demonstrate it?"

Merlin huffed, scowling at him. "You are going to make us ride back in the dark."

"That is sort of the idea."

"So you want to get us lost."

"It will be worth it, trust me."

"We will see if it is still worth it when one of use falls down a ravine."

"There are no ravines in this area."

"A landslide then. Bear trap. Rabbit hole."

"Gods, you're such a pessimist." Arthur pulled his horse to a stop just before the peak of the hill and dismounted. "Come on, we're here already anyway."

Merlin scowled some more, but gingerly slid off of his horse and managed to keep his stumbling to a minimum. Still, he was too slow for Arthur's tastes. Like an excited child, he grabbed Merlin's wrist and tugged him the rest of the way up the hill.

As they crested the hill, the view he had been so eager to share was revealed. There was a short cliff before them, and below that stretched an expanse of forest as familiar to Arthur as the back of his own hand. Beyond the forest, sitting quietly among fields, was the city of Camelot. A thick layer of fog curled through the trees and around the towers, glowing a vibrant pink from the setting sun. The sight of those beloved white walls made Arthur's heart ache with homesickness, but he was willing to wait a bit longer for this.

Merlin had frozen beside him, eyes shining and fixed on the distant castle. Arthur could feel his wrist trembling within his grasp and squeezed it gently.

"What do you think, was it worth it?"

Merlin's breath hitched, his wrist twisted in Arthur's hold to grip him back, and he squeezed like his life depended on it. "I remember," he breathed, sucking in another shuddering breath. "I thought it was gone, but I remember."

He slowly sank to his knees, staring straight forward at the city. Arthur followed, grinning. "You see? Your memories are not gone, you have only hidden them. You can get them back. You just need time, be patient."

"I'm tired of not knowing, Arthur." Merlin whispered, "I'm so tired."

"If...if ever you are unsure of something, you can ask me." Arthur assured, letting go of Merlin's wrist to squeeze his shoulder instead. Merlin's hand reached up to cover Arthur's, gripping it like he was desperate to cling to something solid.

"You don't have all the answers." Merlin whispered bitterly. "I made sure of that."

"Then we will find someone who does." Arthur persisted, undeterred. "You have friends, Merlin. People who know you, people who will help you. You do not have to do any of this alone, and you do not have to live in uncertainty. In fact, I won't let you."

Merlin nodded tentatively, gaze still fixed on the city below them. "I know." He sounded sad, but Arthur knew that sadness was not necessarily a bad thing. There would be a great amount of sadness in their futures, but they would get through it together and he knew they would come out stronger. He would not stand for any other outcome.

They remained there, sitting side by side in the grass, until the last bit of gold and pink sank below the horizon and they could no longer see the walls of Camelot. It wasn't until he stood, gently hauling Merlin's weak body up with him, that Arthur remembered about the rest of their party. He glanced around, finding them all clustered several meters away, quietly eating a quick cold dinner in the dark.

Gail, as if sensing his eyes on them, looked up and gave them a small smile. "Ye lads finished with yer moment, then? Come an' eat afore we head down."

Arthur complied, accepting the dried meat, nuts and cheeses that the strange Druid man had left in the horse's saddlebags for them. He passed some to Merlin, who mumbled again that he wasn't hungry. Despite looking hardly better than a skeleton, it seemed that Merlin was never hungry, and shoving food at him had become routine. Arthur raised an eyebrow and stared him down until he reluctantly began picking through some of the nuts. He hoped that some real, good food at Camelot might be able to tempt him, otherwise it was going to be a long winter.

As Arthur and Merlin caught up on their dinner, the others began to gather what little they had unpacked. Percival was putting together and lighting a few torches to help guide their way. No one made any mention of Merlin's small breakdown, and they had all stopped their complaining about having to delay the journey. They had realized that it had been for Merlin, even if they did not understand the specifics of it.

In short order they all found themselves back on their horses and making their way back down the hill and through the forest, traveling at a slow, careful pace to avoid any missteps. Callum had ended up sharing a horse with Gail, and soon fell asleep against her chest. Some of the others looked exhausted enough to follow suit, but managed to stay awake regardless, if only so that they would remain seated on their horses.

Due to their slow pace in the darkness, it was late into the night by the time they approached the city gates. Though exhausted, most of the party began to perk up as they neared their destination, with the exception of Merlin. Arthur could almost feel the cloud of gloom that hung around him, emanating more strongly the closer they got.

Despite his obvious reluctance to return home, Arthur caught Merlin pressing his hand longingly against the stone walls as they entered the city.

Some strange emotion was building in Arthur. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He pondered over this as they rode through the dark and silent lower town, but the feeling remained unnamed for now.

There was no one to be seen as they made their way up the hill to the citadel, which was both somewhat concerning and also lucky. Arthur did not particularly want to deal with any attention from commoners, but there should also be at least some people still out late. Even the Rising Sun was quiet when they passed by, and they only saw a few scattered houses that glowed with candlelight.

Gail nudged Callum awake when the citadel gates came into view, and Arthur was slightly disappointed to see that the drawbridge was raised and guarded. There would be no slipping in unnoticed tonight. He steeled himself, sitting up straighter and trying to look more regal and less like a rundown refugee.

They were quickly spotted not far from the drawbridge, and a familiar voice called out to them in the dark. "Halt! The city is under curfew by order of the queen. Who goes there?"

Arthur grinned, glad that the man guarding the citadel tonight was a friend. "Is that any way to treat your king, Sir Leon? I know I have been away for some time, but surely you have not forgotten me already?"

The knight stepped forward with a torch, looking shocked. "Arthur! You have returned! We had begun to wonder if something had befallen you. Elyan and Kay returned many weeks ago."

"Unfortunately we have had to walk most of the way." Arthur explained wearily. "We have had quite the journey."

"Shall I inform the council of your arrival?"

Arthur grimaced at the thought of having to deal with them this late at night. "God, no. Let them sleep, but arrange an urgent meeting for tomorrow. But not too urgent. No earlier than lunch."

Leon nodded, waving his torch towards the drawbridge to signal for the guards inside the citadel to lower it and let them inside. "Of course, sire."

"Wake the queen, though. And Gaius. I will also need a stablehand to care for these horses and a servant to prepare quarters for our guests."

Leon glanced towards Merlin uncomfortably, like he wasn't sure what to say. "Gaius is not in the city, sire. He was called away to Willowdale to attend to a fever."

Arthur's heart sank. He had promised Merlin to get him home to Gaius. He knew that Gaius would be a comfort to him, and would likely be able to help him more than anyone. He also knew that he was not the only one to be disappointed─he could feel Merlin's emotions almost mirroring his own. "Send word to him at first light then, informing him of our return. Tell him his return is not urgent, and to prioritize the safety of the villagers."

The drawbridge was lowered and the group rode inside and wearily dismounted their horses. Leon was issuing orders to people around them, but Arthur was too tired to pay attention. A stable boy appeared, hair mussed and hastily wiping sleep from his eyes, to take their horses. Arthur instructed him to wipe them down thoroughly, give them a full meal of grains and fruits, and to make sure they were saddled and released outside of the city in the morning after their rest. The boy was obviously baffled by the request, but bowed and led the horses away regardless.

Arthur turned back to Leon, gesturing a hand towards Gail. "Sir Leon, this is Gail and her son, Callum. They have been instrumental in the last months and have come to stay at Camelot. I want guest quarters prepared for them until we sort out something permanent, and as quickly as possible. We are all tired and in need of rest."

Leon nodded towards Gail and waved a waiting servant over to relay the instructions. The boy quickly scurried off to obey, no doubt looking forward to finishing and getting back to sleep. Arthur felt slightly guilty for waking so many people, but they were young and full of energy and had not been starving and traveling for months now, so he was sure they would get over it.

"Arthur!" A delighted cry pulled Arthur from his thoughts, and he looked up to see his wife standing at the top of the stairs. She was in her nightclothes, covered modestly with a robe, showing just how hastily she had come out to see him. He was almost surprised that her feet were not bare, given how disheveled she appeared. Normally she would not allow herself to be seen like this outside of their chambers, but he was glad she hadn't stopped to get dressed.

She flew down the steps in a most unregal way, nearly tripping on the last one, but Arthur thought he had never seen a sight more beautiful. He broke into a grin, catching her in his arms as she barrelled into him. She smelled of lavender and smoke and home, and Arthur was embarrassed to find a tightness in his throat. "Guinevere." He murmured into her ear, one hand tangling in her curls.

"You smell like horse." Guinevere said into his shoulder with a light laugh. Arthur felt her lift her head from his chest, then her entire body stiffened. She pulled away with a gasp, and Arthur saw her gaze lock onto something behind him, her eyes widening and filling with tears. He turned to look and saw Merlin, standing awkwardly in the middle of the courtyard, right arm strapped to his chest and his left hand fidgeting with the bindings.

Arthur watched as his wife ran away from him just as quickly as she had run to him, straight to Merlin. It occurred to him that it wasn't exactly proper behavior for a queen, but he understood. Merlin had been away from home for an entire nine months now, including their travels before he had gone missing. Arthur had only been away for three.

So, he watched as his wife embraced her friend just as fervently as she had embraced her husband a moment before. Merlin immediately froze, and Guinevere released him quickly. "Merlin! I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur could see him struggling to find his voice and hide his stress. Being touched unexpectedly was still a problem for him, though he never seemed to mind when Arthur did it. He was staring at Guinevere's face like he thought he would never see it again, but he kept his distance and made no move to touch her.

"'M alright, Gwen." He rasped quietly.

"I am so glad you are home, we have all been so worried for you."

Merlin just nodded, clearly still struggling. He was nearly overwhelmed, and Arthur stepped in to rescue him. "Guinevere, I need to introduce you to the people we met on our journey. This is Gail and Callum, they helped us more than I can say. Gail, this is my wife, Guinevere, Queen of Camelot."

Gail gave an awkward bow, clearly unsure how to behave towards royalty. Callum was mostly ignoring everything around him, looking half asleep.

Guinevere gave an elegant curtsey, a gesture more appropriate for someone above her station than below it like Gail was. "I have heard from my brother what you have done for them. You have my deepest gratitude. Anything you wish for, you only have to ask."

Gail looked a bit embarrassed at the attention, and Arthur wanted to laugh. It was a sharp contrast to her fierce anger and steely confidence she had displayed when meeting him.

"All I need right now is a place to sleep. My bairn is fit t' collapse right 'ere." Gail paused awkwardly. "M'lady."

As if summoned by her words, the servant boy who had run off before came running back, slowing down to a more respectable pace before stopping and bowing. "The guest quarters are ready for you, ma'am. I will show you the way."

Gail and Callum followed the boy, and Arthur took the opportunity to dismiss the knights as well. Gwaine shot Merlin one last hesitant glance before they all stumbled off to bed, and Leon to his post, leaving Arthur alone with Merlin and Guinevere.

"We will send for Gaius first thing in the morning." Arthur reiterated to Merlin as the trio started walking towards the physician's chambers. "I am sure he won't be long, these things usually pass quickly and Willowdale is not far."

Merlin merely nodded, staying silent. "In the meantime, your room has not been changed since you were gone. Everything should be as you left it."

They got to the narrow staircase that led up to the chambers and Arthur offered Merlin assistance, but was silently rejected. Merlin leaned heavily on the left wall instead, climbing the stairs with slow, shaking steps. Arthur trailed behind, trying to look like he wasn't hovering but prepared to catch him if he fell. He was still so thin, his muscles still so wasted, Arthur didn't really trust him to make it all the way up without help.

But make it he did, and soon they stood before Gaius' door. Merlin's hand rested on the handle, but he made no move to open it. "Do you want me to stay with you?" Arthur offered quietly. He wanted so badly to go sleep in his own bed with his wife, but at the same time he was almost afraid to be separated from Merlin. This would be the first time they were truly apart for more than a handful of hours in months, and the first time Merlin had been alone at all, and it felt oddly final. He wasn't sure if it was their bond, or just protectiveness because of what happened to Merlin, but he found that he did not want to leave him alone in those rooms.

But Merlin was shaking his head, not meeting his eye. "No. I...I'm alright, I just need some time." He took a breath and pushed the door open, looking into the familiar rooms. They were silent and lit only in the soft moonlight, smelling like dust and dried herbs.

He paused before entering, and looked in Guinevere's direction but didn't quite meet her eye. "I missed you, Gwen. I am glad to see you, I just...sorry I'm like this, I just can't right now."

Guinevere shook her head, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "Don't be sorry, Merlin. Don't worry about me. I'm just glad you are back, everything else can wait."

Merlin nodded, looking down at his feet for a moment before finally stepping through the door. "Night." He mumbled, then shut the door behind him.

Arthur's anxiety spiked, and he immediately wanted to break the door down.

No, Merlin needs space. He probably has as much on his mind as you do and needs some time alone. This is a good thing. He is safe. He is home.

Merlin is home. I am home.

Home.

Guinevere's gentle hand on his arm pulled his attention back to her. He took her hand and turned his back on the door, and together they started walking back down the stairs.

Ironically, this time it was Arthur who did not make it all the way. He found his legs suddenly growing weak, his knees shaking. Guinevere's grip on him tightened and she guided him to sit on the steps about halfway to the bottom. He sat and stared at his shaking hands, his breaths coming in deep gasps.

Guinevere's arms came to wrap around him, drawing his head to her breast. Here, sitting in his castle in his wife's arms, Arthur could feel all of the stress and tension his body had been under melting away and leaving him empty and weak. He had not realized how much of his energy had come from the stress and his drive to just get Merlin home, and now that they were here it was all gone in a rush. He could finally stop moving, let his guard down, and stop looking over his shoulder for sorcerers and enchanted soldiers. It was over, they were safe. There was still much to be done, but right now, in this moment, everyone was safe and Merlin was in his chambers, where he belonged. Guinevere was right; everything else can wait.

That feeling Arthur had gotten as they passed through the gates hit him again, but tenfold, and a sob burst out of his lips. Guinevere stroked his hair, rocking him gently and whispering reassurances into his ear. Later he might be embarrassed about this, about him, King Arthur of Camelot, sitting in the dark and crying in his wife's arms like a child, and he would later deny it ever happened if asked, but right now he let it all go.

"It's alright, my love," Guinevere murmured. Arthur clutched at her robes and inhaled her scent, taking comfort in the familiarity and letting the tears flow freely. "You did it. You brought him home. You are safe."

Home.

In that moment, Arthur finally realized what that feeling was. It had been so many months since he had felt it that he had forgotten what it was like.

It was relief.

We're home.