This is Goodbye" (Rose)

"Father," I cry as I toss my arms about his neck, "You're here! You're alive!"

"I am here," he says warmly as he pulls back. His eyes are sad, "But I am not living, child."

"How can that be?" I puzzle, "Am I dead?"

"No," he shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, "You are not dead."

"But you..." I can't bring myself to form the word to confirm what my heart knows to be true.

All he says is, "I have a brief moment with you before I pass on."

"No, Father, you can't leave me," I choke back a sob, "I need you here, with me. There is so much I have yet to learn."

"Yes, my love," he strokes my hair, "This is true. However, it is not for me to teach you. My job was to raise you to become a confident, strong young woman, and you have. My purpose on earth is done. Our people are gone. You are the last of our kind." I bite back my tears. "It is alright to be afraid, but you shall not be alone in your journey. A boy looks over you, even now. It is your job to see him through quite a handful of sticky situations. In him you will find a safe haven, a best friend, maybe more," he smiles at me.

"I don't understand ..."

"I know," he says, "But you need not know all just yet. Trust your instincts. Trust yourself. Trust that you will do the right things with all that is in you. I will miss you, my dear, sweet girl," he kisses my cheek.

"I'll miss you, too, Father," I kiss his cheek in return. It's so cold- everything is so icy, it actually hurts, "This is goodbye, then," I conclude sorrowfully.

"For now," my father smirks, "We shall see each other again one day. Until then, know that I love you and always will."

"I love you, too," I whimper as he slowly fades into the blinding white light that now encompasses me. All too soon, he is gone and the world goes blank once more.

"Deserved Explanations" (Merlin)

Gaius and Gwen burst abruptly through the door. "God bless you, Guinevere," I greet her. She gives a quick smile and makes her way to the girl who, hopefully, won't be incapacitated for long. Gaius and I retreat to my room, closing the door, to give them the necessary space and privacy they need. "Okay, Gaius," I look at him squarely, "I believe you have some explaining to do."

"Alright, Merlin," he nods, "You do deserve that, but I warn you that I may not be able to tell you all that you inquire of me. Some things I do not know, and some things I am in no place to tell you. What do you want to know?"

"Well, for starters," I purse my lips together, "Who is that lying half dead on our floor? I believe that is a just question that most likely can be answered." I consider my last statement, "Then again, maybe not, given our history." I shake my head, getting back on track, "Nevertheless, I still ask, who is she?"

He sighs heavily, "Her name is Rose White-hart. She is a Woodward, and practically a princess. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," I puzzle, "But now I have a new one: What is a Woodward?"

"She can tell you better than I can, but I will do my best to explain. They are magical, peaceful people very much like the Druids. However, they are far more in touch with nature. They all possess the inherent ability to communicate with animals." My jaw drops at that statement. "It is rather incredible," Gaius comments.

I think to myself for a moment, still sorting through the information that was given to me and the bit left that I wish to know. "So, you mentioned she was a princess?"

"I said, 'practically a princess', but yes, I did. She would be a princess if they had land of their own. You see, Merlin, she is all that is left of the last clan of her kind. That's why I brought her here. They were attacked and surely slaughtered."

My eyes grow wide, "By whom?"

"Camelot soldiers," Gaius raises a brow, bending his head down slightly in my direction.

My stomach is now sick with guilt. "I did this," I sputter.

"What do you mean?"

"Uther... he called me to the throne room to examine the dead soldiers who were murdered on patrol. I confirmed his suspicion that magic was involved. He said he knew who had committed the act and proceeded to tell Arthur to send out Camelot's finest warriors to a camp headed by someone named Alric, I think it was." I swallow hard.

"Merlin, you can't blame yourself for this. You couldn't have known them to be innocent."

"So it wasn't any of them that did the killing?"

"Oh, no, I can assure you, not one member of Alric's clan would harm any living creature. The only Woodwards I have ever known to be violent were always rogues."

"Then they were slain without a just cause, as I feared," I shake my head, "Do you think any survived?"

"Other than Rose, no," he shakes his head a time or two, "I took her away from the heat of the battle right after Alric was killed."

"Who was this Alric?" Gaius now looks like he's been punched hard in the gut.

"He was the girl's father, the leader of the White-hart clan. The attack took him by surprise. He and Uther had been friends. The two reached an agreement long ago that if the Woodwards ceased to practice magic, they could remain in the woods surrounding Camelot. He was also my very best friend of over twenty years. He understood why I turned a blind eye when friends of ours were executed during the Purge. He never once did judge me for my actions, no matter how cowardly they were."

It finally hits me, "She's the girl you went to see tonight."

"Yes," he says in an almost whisper.

I quickly change the topic, "Are Woodwards born with magic then?" He nods at this. "That means Rose has magic?"

"It would be safe to assume so, yes, but she has never used it- not intentionally anyways. However, if she were not of noble blood, the theory of her having magic would be in deep question. Under Alric's rule, the Woodwards began to marry outside their kind. Since their people were getting fewer, this was permitted, although ideally they would marry another Woodward. The leaders of the clan, however, could only ever marry one of their own to carry on a pure, unbroken bloodline."

"I see," I nod, "But she is noble, so it is unmistakable."

"Indeed," he affirms, "And no one must ever know this. Her birth was unknown to Uther, and so it shall remain."

There is a knock at my bedroom door. "Come in," I say, turning my eyes to it.

The door opens softly, and Gwen pops her head in, "She's all set."

"Thank you, Gwen," Gaius says sincerely.

"Of course," she nods, and disappears once more.

"Come on then, Merlin," Gaius heads for the door, "Let's go check on our patient." I follow him into the other room. Gwen dressed her in a simple, satin nightgown with long sleeves and a small pink bow in the middle of the neckline. The girl, Rose, looks more peaceful than she had before, and yet, she still seems troubled. Her hair is drier now, and I see that before, it wasn't a trick of the light that it looked to be the color of fire. It is a brilliant, shiny, dark shade of red and comes down about five, maybe six inches below her shoulders. I thought she was pretty before, even when she was all out of sorts, but now, I must say, she is quite beautiful. She has a bit of a round and pale face, with a button nose and small pink lips.

I break myself away from my own train of thoughts. "I'm going to put her in my bed," I tell Gaius.

"Are you sure? She can take mine," he assures me.

"Yes, I'm sure," I smile at him, "I'm used to sleeping on the floor, remember?"

He laughs, "Oh, yes, that's right."

I let a short huff of air out through my nose, and then get on my knees next to the girl. I stick my right arm under her knees and my left under her shoulders, supporting her neck, and slowly lift her. I am careful not to disturb her slumber as I walk and place her gently on my cot. I cautiously slip my arm out from under her legs and bring my other hand up beneath her head, keeping it there for few lingering seconds after her head hits the pillow. Soon enough, I pull that one out, too, minding not to get my fingers tangled in her soft curls. Against my better judgment, I sit at her side, letting my eyes fall on her face once more.

The moonlight is highlighting her white cheeks, which are getting some color back to them. I suddenly recall the cut on her arm and check that. Everything looks good, so I begin to set her arm back down, letting my hand travel down to hers. Her hand is so small and smooth compared to my large, rough ones. I hold it tenderly, "You're going to get better. I promise you," I squeeze it lightly. She unknowingly squeezes back, just a tad. I smile. She really is going to be okay, and I'm glad. There's just something extraordinary about this girl ... I don't know what, but I am intent on finding out what it is.