The night before the ceremony, Arthur slept poorly, dreaming all night about his lost friend. Though it wasn't all bad, if he was being honest about it. He had particularly enjoyed Merlin's horrified look when Arthur insisted that he wear the tunic and breeches of a Lord, which consisted of several layers, as well as the old hat from Bayard's visit. Why Arthur had insisted on the hat, he wasn't sure, but that was dream logic for you.

He hadn't enjoyed what his mind had made up about how Merlin might look now, with his appearance shifting from almost normal but pale, to the bloated appearance of a week old corpse, to the skeletal remains of the long dead. What bothered Arthur the most were the eyes. Those pale blue eyes that had always been so full of life, so bright, sparkling with mischief and enthusiasm, in his dreams were dull, cold, and almost gray, filled with a sorrow that Arthur felt to his soul.

Arthur sighed as he heard his new servant quietly place his breakfast on the table and waited for the young man to finish his preparations before getting up. "Thank you, that will be all for now," Arthur said, dismissing the servant, who nodded meekly and bowed himself out. That was perhaps one of the things Arthur was missing most. Much as he hated to admit it, he would give almost anything to hear his irreverent servant whip open the curtains with a call of "Rise and shine!"

I knew you'd get bored, a soft voice in the back of his mind supplied. Arthur glanced around, just to be sure he was alone.

"Oh, shut up, Merlin," he retorted softly before getting out of bed and approaching the plentiful breakfast his new servant had laid out.

You say that, but we both know you don't want me to, the voice continued. Arthur chuckled at this imagined conversation. It was true. The few times Merlin had actually been quiet had been some of the most boring and occasionally scary times in his life.

Arthur glanced around the room, imagining Merlin there, cleaning and chattering away as the Prince ate. Well, not really cleaning, more like hiding the mess. Not that he actually cared. The important stuff had always gotten done, of course, now it was done much more efficiently, and silently. Arthur grimace and finished his breakfast before calling the servant back in to help him dress.

His ceremonial clothes had been laundered and laid out for him so it took less than half the time it normally would to dress. When he was done, the servant took Arthur's used plates away, leaving the Prince alone to finish the last touches of his speech. Arthur has just set down the quill when there was a quiet knock on the door and Gwen poked her head in.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" she asked.

"Of course not," he told her with a smile. "Come in."

Gwen smiled in return and entered, closing the door gently behind her, a habit left over from working as a maid. Arthur got up and went over to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her gently. "You look beautiful," he told her, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Gwen blushed. "Thank you, sire," she replied. "I just wanted to check on you before I go help Hunith get ready for the ceremony." That was when Arthur noticed the dress hanging over Gwen's arm. The dress was fit for a lady, in a deep blue. Noticing his gaze, she stepped back and held up the dress for his inspection. Arthur stared. It was perfect. The dress of a lady with Merlin's crest stitched carefully into the bodice. "I prepared as much as I could ahead of time and got some help from a friend to get it fitted and put the finishing touches on it last night."

"Guinevere," he murmured, "It's perfect."

Gwen blushed. "I thought Merlin would appreciate it," she admitted softly. "I know he liked to get things for her. He asked my help a few times picking out clothes or scarves to send her for the Winter Solstice."

"I didn't know that," Arthur admitted, surprised.

Gwen shrugged. "She's his mother," Gwen offered by way of explanation and Arthur nodded. If his mother were still alive, he would have enjoyed giving her gifts.

"Thank you for your help, Guinevere," Arthur told her sincerely as he sensed she was ready to leave.

"There's nothing to thank me for," she told him, "I was happy to do it."

Arthur smiled as she left. Gwen was a godsend. She'd helped keep him balanced the last couple of weeks between the rebuilding and the plans for the ceremony, not to mention the long and annoying conversations with some of the more stubborn and old fashioned Lords on the counsel. She'd listened when he'd ranted about their stupidity and suggested ways to convince them he was making the right choice. She had never doubted it and that always helped.

Arthur glanced out the window as he heard the clocks chime the hour. The people would be gathering. The knights, lords, peasants, and servants, all to hear this great announcement. Arthur got up and grabbed his ceremonial sword and his crown. He hated the stupid thing, but it felt right in this instant, particularly since Merlin had been the last to touch it. It had been locked away in a drawer after he'd finished polishing it for Samhain since Arthur had refused to wear it then.

Arthur waited an appropriate amount of time, allowing everyone to get situated before sweeping down to the great hall.

It was packed, the Lords and Ladies of the court were in the their usual spots, but there was a larger than normal turn out of servants and commoners. There was hardly space to breathe where they stood. The knights were in their ranks, though a little more tightly packed than normal as they tried to make extra space for the added people just behind them. Arthur scanned faces as he moved to the front of the room, pleased when he noticed his special knights standing almost protectively around Hunith, Gaius, and Gwen at the front. Arthur gave them a small nod so they knew he was grateful.

Reaching the throne, he turned to face the people. There wasn't really a need to wait for silence. It had fallen the moment he had entered the room save for a few murmured greetings of "sire."

"I thank you all for coming," Arthur began, wishing he hadn't needed to prepare this speech himself. Merlin had always been surprisingly good at doing it for him. "As you know, several weeks back, Camelot faced a terrible danger. The Doracha, spirits of the dead, were released into the mortal realm. At the suggestion of Gaius, a trusted member of the council, I set out with a small contingency of knights to free us from this scourge. I knew when we left that the price to free us from the Doracha was a life." He paused as gasps erupted all around the chamber. Even the knights were frowning at him. When it was again quiet, he continued.

"I left intending to offer my own life for Camelot's safety," he admitted. "However, before I could do so, another offered himself in my place. I want to pay tribute to that man. We owe him a great debt. It's not just his deed that we'll never forget. It's his courage. His compassion. His unselfish heart. He is the most noble man I will ever know. He gave his life for all of us. And his name is Merlin. My servant. My friend. And from this day forward he will be remembered as Lord Merlin Wyllt of the White Mountains, friend of the crown and knight of Camelot."

His proclamation was met with momentary silence until a single person began to clap.

Gwaine.

Gwaine started it.

The knights followed swiftly. Soon all were cheering. Arthur smiled, relief flooding him. The remainder of the ceremony went well with Gwaine and Lancelot silently fighting over who would escort Hunith up to accept the letter and deed until Leon simply stepped between them and did it himself. Hunith, despite her rearing, behaved as if she had been born to the life of privilege his nobles enjoyed. She even seemed comfortable as the guest of honor at the feast that evening. He was fairly sure that was Gwen's doing. Again.

When the festivities ended, Arthur made sure to escort Hunith to Gaius' chambers himself. He had offered her larger, more private chambers, but she had insisted that she wanted to stay with the Physician, sleeping in what used to be her son's room. When they reached the door to the Physician's chamber, Arthur bowed, preparing to leave, but Hunith stopped him with the lightest touch on his arm.

"Thank you," she told him sincerely.

"There's nothing to thank me for," he replied, but she shook her head.

"There is," she stated firmly. "Thank you for seeing my son as a friend, despite the differences between you. Thank you for being a friend to him and for keeping him safe as much as you could. And thank you for remembering him this way. He is... was a peasant, a servant, one not even born in this kingdom, and yet you honored him for what he did, not from whence he came. Thank you for being that kind of a man. He was proud to serve you, Arthur, and I am proud too that he could. He was lucky to have your friendship."

Arthur stared at her wordlessly for a full minute before he managed to stutter out his thanks at the compliment. He waited until the door to the Physician's chambers closed before returning to his own room on autopilot.

Shocked you speechless, did she? His fake Merlin asked as Arthur stood by the window looking out, reluctant to lie down and sleep. Mother's are amazing like that.

"I'm sure they are," Arthur murmured quietly, "You're lucky to have had such a wonderful one."

I was. The ghost agreed, coming to stand by Arthur's shoulder. I think yours was just as wonderful. I'm just sorry you didn't get to meet her.

"I am too, Merlin. I am too."

You know, the ghost Merlin said hesitantly and Arthur tried to imagine what his face would like at this moment. If you ever need a mother's advice, the ghost hesitated again and Arthur wondered where this imagined conversation was going, I'm sure my mother would be happy to talk to you.

Arthur spun around, the ghost vanishing at the sudden movement. "Why would I-?" Arthur started intending to say something condescending as he usually did when Merlin was being particularly ridiculous, but he stopped short. Merlin wasn't here. This was all in Arthur's head, which meant... Arthur wanted to think that Merlin wouldn't mind sharing his mother?

Arthur remained there for several minutes, trying to work that out before deciding that he'd simply had too much wine and he ought to just go to bed. It was as he settled under the covers that his imagined Merlin returned, whispering, I wouldn't mind either.

I am so sorry for not publishing before now. I got half way through this chapter and didn't know where to go with it. I have a little more that I need to work through and I've discovered some areas that need additional editing. I do intend to finish this and give it a nice little resolution. It's just taking me longer to get there than I planned between two jobs, college, and general life. I will do my best to get those missing pieces filled in so that this doesn't turn into one of those forever unfinished stories.

Thanks again for all your patience and for enjoying this ride with me. I hope I can continued to amuse and entertain you.

Much thanks!