"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, lunging forwards and turning the body over. Aithusa was pacing, clearly distressed.
"Is he..." Leon was standing but stayed back, twisting his grip on his sword handle, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.
Gwen seemed to be the most rational, steadying Merlin's head with one hand while she felt for a pulse. "Arthur, he's alive."
The king slid an arm under Merlin's chest and picked him up, ignoring the way his head lolled limply like a doll's. He set him down next to the fire and watched breathlessly, spotting a shallow rise and fall in the sorcerer's chest now.
"What's wrong with him?" Gwen was asking Aithusa, but the white dragon seemed to be at a loss. Her pacing had quickened and it felt like the earth was vibrating with her steps.
"We need to get him to-" Percival broke off, and everyone in the clearing knew the name he had wanted to say. "We need to get him back to Camelot."
"I don't think we should move him just yet," Hunith interjected quietly, pushing dark hair from her son's face as she looked him over. She looked older, exhausted.
Merlin's eyes were racing beneath his eyelids, but other than that there was little hint he was even alive. His breathing was slow, and he didn't respond even as his mother began to trace her hands over the scars on his skin.
"Oh, Merlin," she said, and her voice hitched slightly. "You've been so brave."
Arthur couldn't help but stare from where he stood behind her, keeping a slight distance in spite of himself. He had carried memories of his friend since the battle, memories of a goofy face and snarky remarks and a bright if somewhat stupid grin. Nothing about the man lying on the floor resembled those memories. The hair was longer, tousled and matted in some places. The skin was waxy and taut, stretched tighter than ever over sharp cheekbones. The hollows in his cheeks and under his eyes were dark grey, almost lifeless. There were no visible scales on his skin but three parallel scars, like claw marks, dragged through his eyebrow and down the side of his face, having barely missed his eye.
Arthur's gaze drifted down from Merlin's face and found himself reading a record of the battle at Camelot. Merlin's right shoulder was ravaged by furrows which seemed to have cut nearly to the bone, and he remembered hearing the black dragon scream in his mind. His left thigh was equally damaged and the muscle looked as though it had been split by the trauma. Less severe scars littered his chest, his neck, his forearms. Bite marks too but not human and he felt an involuntary surge of anger towards Aithusa.
"She says she's sorry," Guinevere murmured to him, facing the other way as she watched the distressed dragon. "She didn't have a choice."
Arthur sighed. "I thought... I thought if he changed back, everything would go back to normal. But looking at him..."
"Have faith," the queen offered a wry smile before unclipping his cape from his shoulders and draping it over the sorcerer.
The decision was made to pass the night in the clearing before attempting to transport Merlin back to Camelot. Nobody seemed willing to sleep and so they all sat in silence, staring into the fire or at Merlin. Gwen was the first to move, excusing herself quietly and approaching the white dragon who had by now curled up at the opposite end of the camp, staring away into the woods.
Okay? Aithusa asked.
"We can't tell yet," Guinevere responded softly. "He's still asleep. Is Emrys..."
She felt a wave of pained uncertainty in answer and sat next to the dragon, leaning into the broad white neck.
"I'm sorry. I know it must have been hard for you. I can't even imagine." She shuddered, trying to picture herself in the same position, not knowing if she would have been able to sacrifice as Aithusa had. "But why? Why would you do it?"
Fate, the dragon said. Not mine.
"You'll be alone now?" Gwen swallowed the knot that had manifested in her throat.
Maybe. Maybe Emrys...still a part.
"I don't understand."
The dragon paused and then seemed to focus on enunciating each word in Gwen's mind, with some difficulty.
Part of the world. Of Merlin. Of me. Maybe... Emrys returns. When he's... supposed to.
"I hope so," Gwen smiled up at the great catlike face, looming like a full moon, and slept.