Another's Favor by ebhg
Rating: T
Pairings: Merthian/Arwen
Spoilers: Series 1-4 and up to episode 4 of Series 5.
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.
A/N: Well, here it is, the final chapter. I'm sorry this has taken so long, but I've been having technical difficulties with the site, and I'm hoping that this is actually reaching your alert inboxes and not getting lost in the ether. In any case, I'm tired of sitting on it!
Epilogue
Ten years had passed since the birth of Albion; Merlin wondered at times at how the time had moved so quickly. So much had happened since Arthur had become the High King. Their families had grown, traditions had been started, and friendships had been strengthened. Especially the many alliances that had been forged and renewed under the peace accord.
Prince Gavin had announced his intentions towards Princess Elena before the celebratory feast had ended. Lord Godwyn and King Rodor had been pleased; both insisted that their advanced years made them unsuitable for the mantle of leadership and that they were prepared to step down from their respective thrones. Therefore, King Gavin and Queen Elena had wed within the first year of the peace treaty, binding Nemeth and Gawant under their leadership. Lord Godwyn had been pleased to see his first grandchild before he joined his beloved wife in Avalon.
Rodor had journeyed to Camelot just after Gavin and Elena's wedding, insisting that Gavin needed time to be king without his father overshadowing him. Mithian had welcomed the visit and delighted in how her father doted on his first young grandson. What surprised the warlock, however, was when the former king of Nemeth pulled Merlin aside after the ladies had gone out for a walk with the baby.
"Merlin," Rodor had said, almost nervously.
"What is it?" he had replied.
"I have a question for you, which I am hoping you would be open to. It is my understanding that your father has been gone for many years and that your mother has been alone since before your birth."
"Yes, that is true," Merlin answered, his brow furrowing in confusion. Rodor nodded, gazing pensively at his boots for a moment before looking directly into Merlin's eyes.
"I would therefore like to ask your approval, as the head of your house, to court the Lady Hunith."
Merlin found himself speechless. It was the second time in as many years that Rodor had managed to surprise him so thoroughly. Of course, he could not object, though Hunith nearly refused Rodor's attentions, believing herself below his station. But his persistence paid off and Merlin and Mithian had been happy to see their parents married, providing one another with much-needed companionship.
Rodor had also been a great comfort to Merlin when Gaius had passed away just recently. Thinking of the physician now brought a smile to the warlock's face, rather than a frown. Gaius had said many times after Merlin and Mithian had married that he was the happiest he had been in a long while. He had been the first to examine the warlock and princess' first-born, as well as the one to suggest the babe's name. As the infant had become the symbol of magic's return, Gaius had suggested they name the boy Edryd, meaning restoration.
It seemed only fitting then that Gaius had been the first one to experience Edryd's magic. It had delighted his foster-father more than Merlin could have imagined to walk about the palace with mashed turnips splattered across his front when Edryd had magically pushed them away from himself and onto Gaius in a fit of temper. The bond between Gaius and Edryd had been a close one; not unlike Merlin's with the physician. The warlock had often wondered when Edryd was quiet and contemplative if he wasn't remembering his papa Gaius.
Of course, Merlin ought to have realized then the trouble that his son would cause. Innocent though Edryd's mischief may be, he had become known among the castle servants as Merlin's little troublemaker. Gwaine hadn't been far off the mark so many years before when he had chortled over Merlin freezing disobedient children in place before they could scamper across the whole castle entirely in the buff. Mithian had laughed the hardest though, when Edryd had turned the tables on his father and froze the warlock momentarily when Merlin had been in pursuit of the giggling little boy. Gaius had been hardly sympathetic at the time. When Merlin had gone to his mentor for advice, soaked to the bone from Edryd's newly gained magical skills (it was a long story), the elderly man had simply laughed and muttered something about the apple not falling far from the tree. It was fortunately, another memory of his mentor that brought a fond smile to Merlin's face.
Daegal had stepped up admirably as the official Court Physician. Helping Daegal from time to time had also helped Merlin to heal after his foster-father had passed, but by now the young man was beyond the warlock's medical skills and was well known throughout the kingdom as a fine physician.
Anwyl had proved, though young, to be a worthy leader for the people of Wessex. King Olaf even consented to Anwyl's marrying the Lady Vivian, despite their age difference, when the young prince-king succeeded in breaking the love spell that had nearly driven Vivian mad. Anwyl and Vivian now jointly presided over Wessex and Bergen, while Olaf gladly looked suspiciously upon any young boy who so much as dared to glance at his lovely granddaughter.
Queen Annis had also recently stepped down, conferring the crown of Caerleon upon her son, though she regularly advised him and traveled frequently to Camelot as his emissary. Each time she came, Merlin gladly juggled for her.
King Odin had grown ill in the last year; his only heir was long dead. He had approached Gavin and Elena recently with the prospect of joining Meredor under their rule as well, considering their close relationship with King Arthur.
Essetir was still under Lot's leadership; he had recently begun to negotiate with Bayard for the hand of the Mercian king's daughter. Thus, Albion was growing ever more united as the years moved onwards.
"Da?"
Merlin looked up from the book he was trying to read as he reminisced and smiled at the sight of his young son standing in the doorway.
"What is it Balinor?"
"I can't sleep."
"Of course you can. You just need to relax and clear your mind."
"Can't I have another story?"
"Balinor, your father has already told you three stories tonight. You need to go to sleep, young man."
"But mum," Balinor whined, looking hopefully at his father. He well knew that he had his mother's eyes which, more often than not, allowed him to convince his father to give in.
"Mum is right," Merlin agreed, doing his best to ignore Balinor's wide, pleading brown eyes. "I've got an early meeting with Arthur in the morning so I need to get to bed soon, too."
"Are you going to have your way with Mum?"
"Excuse me?!" Merlin exclaimed, even as Mithian's mouth dropped open in shock and she reflexively covered the ears of the babe she was feeding.
"Where did you hear that, Balinor?" Mithian asked, trying not to laugh at the way Merlin's ears burned bright red. Even after ten years of marriage, he still blushed rather vividly.
"Uncle Gwaine said it to Uncle Elyan. I don't know why. Something about working on a passel of dark haired children?" Balinor asked, his nose wrinkling in confusion.
"I should have known," Merlin managed, covering his face with his hands and forgetting his book entirely.
"Balinor, I don't want to hear you repeating that again, now off to bed with you, and don't wake your brothers."
"Fine," Balinor said, turning around and trudging off as slowly as he could manage.
"It seems I need to remind Gwaine to watch what he says in front of the children."
"You have to admit, 'having your way with mum' is a lot more mild than what Gwaine said in front of Amhar. I thought Gwen was going to faint when Amhar repeated it in front of your mother."
"Yes, it's about time that Gwaine was reminded that five year olds can hear as well as speak."
"I suppose it is. You never answered the question though," Mithian mused.
"What question?" Merlin asked, looking at Mithian in confusion.
"Are you going to have your way with me?" She asked innocently, enjoying how Merlin's face turned red before he wordlessly banished his book back to the shelf and stood, taking their one-year-old daughter from Mithian's arms.
"Aelwen is asleep then?"
"As you see," Mithian replied, smiling at the tender way Merlin smoothed the dark curls away from their little girl's face.
"I'll just put her in her cradle then," Merlin said, smirking at Mithian as she stood and sauntered enticingly towards their bed.
A few moments later, Merlin pulled the thick drapes around the nursery alcove and made sure he thought a locking spell towards the door before he joined his wife.
"It's too early in the morning to have these kinds of meetings," Gwaine groaned as he trudged into the king's private council room the next morning with Elyan and Percival.
"Perhaps you're just getting a bit too old to be spending all night in the tavern," Arthur said, grinning at his knight's disgruntled expression.
"I'll never be too old," Gwaine retorted, grinning over his shoulder as Merlin entered the room next. "Isn't that right my friend?"
"I learned a long time ago to never blankly agree with you until I know what I'm agreeing to," Merlin argued.
"To spend the night in the tavern, of course!"
"Gwaine, I'm not going to agree to that, especially when I heard about the conversation that my five year old son overheard between you and Elyan."
"Which one was that?"
"Oh, nothing much, just the one that prompted him to ask me last night whether I was going to have my way with Mithian!"
Not even Arthur was able to hold in his laughter at Merlin's sputtering indignation. Leon walked into the room to the sight of Merlin with his hands planted on his hips and the others bent over the table in near hysterics.
"What did I miss?" He asked, though it was a couple minutes before Gwaine was able to answer.
"I can't believe you said that where Balinor could hear you!" Merlin protested.
"Well mate, it's true! How many kids have you got now? There's Edryd, oh so like his father, and Gwalchmi- fine lad, that one, and little Balinor, oh so like his mother! But we can't forget delightful little Carwen, apple of her grandmother's eye, and lovely little Aelwen!" Gwaine crowed, ticking them off on his fingers as he went. "Five!"
"And your point being?"
"Arthur has three! Even Leon, who has been married nearly as long as you and Mithian, has just two! "
"Almost three, my wife is due any day now!" Leon interjected proudly.
"I've got two fine lads," Elyan said with a grin.
"That's true, and you've been married just four summers," Gwaine said, turning to his fellow knight. "You're almost as besotted as Merlin here."
"I wasn't going to say anything yet," Percival began, "But I suppose if we're talking about children... Aneira and I are going to welcome our first come spring."
"Congratulations!" Leon crowed, enthusiastically shaking Percival's hand, as the well wishes were echoed by all.
"Perhaps someday you'll have as many as Merlin," Gwaine teased. "You've got a ways to go to catch up with his passel, though."
"You're just jealous, Gwaine," Arthur insisted.
"Nope. I'll leave the rearing of little ones to you ladies. I'm much too young and virile to settle down yet," the knight teased.
"How is it we're the ones with wives, and we're the ladies? I'd think that my wife and 'passel' as you insist on referring to them proves quite thoroughly that I am not a girl!" Merlin argued, which made Arthur's face wrinkle with disgust even as Gwaine's face went blank and Elyan and Percival's laughter renewed.
"Gentlemen," Arthur's voice rang out, cutting their merriment short as the king's tone signaled that the time for seriousness was at hand. "As hilarious as Merlin's argument is, we have serious matters to discuss."
A more somber tone settled over the group. Even Gwaine settled down, his hangover forgotten.
"I've just received troubling news from King Gavin and Queen Elena. A Saxon scouting party landed on the shores of Nemeth-Gawant six days past. Gavin's men were able to push them back, but I fear that it won't be the last."
"It's been a good ten years," Gwaine drawled, leaning back in his chair and smiling impertinently when Arthur scowled at the knight's boots on the table. "I suppose it couldn't last forever. Looks like things are about to get interesting again."
"What of King Anwyl and Queen Vivian? Have they reported any such disturbances on their shores?" Merlin asked.
"Not that we've heard, though I fear it is only a matter of time. I believe that Albion will soon be under threat of Saxon invasion."
"Then we will be ready for them. This is what our efforts of peace and uniting Albion have been all about. We will prevail," Merlin said, to nods all around.
"Has Mordred returned from his latest journey to the Druids yet?" Arthur asked.
Merlin's first apprentice had proved to be an excellent student and friend over the course of his tutelage; it had been a source of immense satisfaction for the warlock, thwarting Mordred's supposed fate. In the years since, the Druid-born knight had proved to be a valuable asset as an envoy between Arthur, Merlin and the Druids. In fact, it was during the course of these travels that Mordred had been reunited with Sefa, who had faithfully remained with the tribe that had taken her in at Arthur's request. Mordred and Sefa had struck up an instant friendship which had then blossomed into love. They had married in Druid tradition just two years after the peace treaty. It had been an historic event; as far as the eldest Druid could remember, it was the first such ceremony to be attended by the king and queen of Camelot as well as more than a dozen knights.
"He and Sefa planned to return this afternoon," Merlin answered.
"Good. Elyan, I want you and Mordred to go to Nemeth-Gawant and promise Gavin and Elena our support. Gwaine? You and Percival will do the same for Anwyl and Vivian."
"We'll leave as soon as possible," Elyan promised, and the king smiled gratefully.
"For the love of Albion," Arthur murmured, which his men repeated.
Arthur stood at the battlements at dawn two days later, watching his most trusted knights leave the city on their assignments when Merlin emerged from the tower door and quietly stepped up beside him. The king grunted in greeting, and the warlock nodded in reply, their many years of friendship making words unnecessary.
"Been up here long?" Merlin asked a moment later, chafing his hands together against the early morning chill.
"A bit," Arthur replied, his brow furrowed in thought.
"You're worried for them," Merlin stated, fully aware of Arthur's mood.
"As I always am," the king replied.
"They will be fine," the warlock reassured.
"Will they?" Arthur murmured.
"What is it? You've not been this concerned in years."
"It's probably nothing, really. Just something Gwaine said the other day."
"Gwaine? He says a lot, though I don't know what he has said that would have you so unsettled."
"Are we getting too old for this?" Arthur asked after a moment of silence. Merlin bit his tongue to keep a chortle from escaping.
"That last hole in your belt bothering you that much?" Merlin asked, unable to help himself.
"I have not added any new holes to this belt in five years!" Arthur argued, much to his advisor's amusement.
"Arthur, holey belts aside, you are still fighting fit, as are your knights. What made you think such a thing?"
"Fighting fit, yes, but the years are starting to show, my friend. Even Gwaine has started to gray a bit at the temples, though I'm pretty sure I saw him pulling them out, vain man that he is," Arthur explained. "Leon was complaining the other day of his back not liking the forest floor so much any more and Elyan's knee has never been quite the same since Amhar tackled him last year."
"We have a lot of years left in us, Arthur. Yes, we are aging, as everyone does, but you're only thirty-eight," Merlin said, his tone sobering.
"You're not though," the king said curiously.
"What?" Merlin asked, shaking his head in confusion. "You know I don't know my exact birth date, but I believe we established many years ago that I'm at least two years younger than you, so of course I'm not thirty eight."
"You are still an idiot, Merlin. I mean you haven't aged. Have you glanced in the looking glass lately? If you've aged a day since I made you my advisor, I'd be very surprised. Not a gray hair or a wrinkle in sight."
"Of course I've aged," Merlin argued. "I have a grey hair right here," the warlock said, gesturing vaguely to the still-dark hair above his ears.
"No, you haven't," Arthur said, his tone souring. Merlin raised an eyebrow and smirked at his king.
"Are you jealous? Is Gwaine not alone in his vanity?"
"Then you admit you haven't aged!" Arthur exclaimed triumphantly.
"I didn't say that," Merlin backpedaled.
"Is it the magic?" Arthur asked, his tone curious once more.
"Perhaps it is," Merlin allowed, not really eager to share the potential longevity that he had before him.
"It must be. Gaius was the oldest man I've ever really known. It was amazing how healthy he seemed, even though he had likely seen close to eighty summers."
"He was eighty-two summers when he passed," Merlin said, a fond smile on his lips.
"Exactly. He lived longer than any I've ever known. I've seen what you'll look like as an old man, and an old woman for that matter, and I can't help but think that I'll be long gone before I ever see you look like that naturally."
Merlin had no reply to that; it was most likely true, but losing his best friend to age was not something that he liked to dwell on. Nor did he want to burden his friends with the prospect.
"Come to think of it," Arthur suddenly blurted. "Mithian hasn't really changed either. Gwen was just commenting how nice it must be to have no wrinkles to speak of."
"Gwen? What wrinkles?" Merlin asked.
"Around her eyes, and she was rather harsh on the lines around her mouth, though I said that they merely showed how much she smiled so beautifully, and how happy she was."
"I'm sure you managed to get into her good graces with that one. For once."
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur protested, much to Merlin's amusement. It was common knowledge among the king's inner circle that he frequently put his foot in his mouth and that Merlin was often tasked with helping him remove it.
"Of course, Sire," Merlin replied.
"Oh, go find your wife, you're just mocking me now."
"As you wish, Sire," Merlin said, bowing before running for the door with Arthur following in his wake.
It was not long before another pair of Saxon ships arrived in Albion. Arthur's prediction held true, and the second scouting expedition landed in Anwyl's territories. Gwaine and Percival had rather fortuitously been there with a small contingent of soldiers from Camelot. With the additional manpower, Anwyl and Vivian's army was successful in repelling the invading force.
However, Gwaine received a minor injury during the battle, which he brushed off as not worth the trouble. Percival suspected otherwise, and thus wasn't surprised when his fellow knight became feverish on the journey back to Camelot.
"You can't travel like this," Percival said, shaking his head in fond exasperation at his fellow knight.
"Please, this is nothing," Gwaine murmured, as though his face wasn't too pale and streaked with sweat.
"Before we left Camelot, Mordred mentioned that there was a Druid camp near here. They'll have a good healer with them, certainly," Percival said.
"Who needs a healer?" Gwaine protested.
"You do, obviously," Percival chuckled as the knight ineffectually struggled to sit up.
"Corris went to scout for them about an hour ago. He should be back soon."
"Uh huh," Gwaine replied, his eyes closing in exhaustion.
The next thing Gwaine knew, he was waking up in an unfamiliar tent.
"Percival?" he called out groggily, then sat up and rubbed a hand down his face. "Perc?"
"He returned with your forces to the citadel three days ago," a soft, soothing voice answered.
"What?" Gwaine asked, his head turning quickly to find the owner of the voice. His breath left him in a rush when he saw the woman. She had deep, fiery red hair and piercing green eyes set within an oval face. She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Which, considering the number of women he had seen, was very impressive indeed.
"Am I dead?" he asked finally, and the woman's brows furrowed at the question.
"No, you are not dead, obviously, as you are sitting here, speaking to me," she answered, her voice colored with a lilting northern accent.
"Forgive me," Gwaine replied, putting on what he hoped was his most charming smile. "I assumed that I must have died, for you are truly an angel."
The woman's eyebrow rose incredulously, obviously unimpressed. Gwaine's grin faltered only slightly.
"How many women have you tried to woo with that one?"
"None," Gwaine denied quickly. The woman didn't seem convinced. "I've never seen such beauty; shall I call you Angel?"
A small smile twitched at the corner of the woman's mouth.
"I'll tell my father you're awake. He's the healer of this camp. And no, you may not call me Angel."
Gwaine's face fell in disappointment as he watched the woman duck to move through the flap of the tent. His hope was reignited, however, when she paused in the entrance and threw an impish smile in his direction.
"But you may call me Talaith."
For three weeks, Gwaine stayed at the Druid camp; perhaps a bit longer than his recovery truly required, but he had been smitten. Talaith had been equal parts impish and serious. She saw right through Gwaine's attempts to woo her, but didn't refuse his attentions either. It was her father, though, who really surprised the knight as they sat beside the fire.
"Talaith is a patient woman."
"Pardon?" Gwaine asked, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
"My daughter is a very patient woman, but she's tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your arse."
Gwaine's mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged in shock, unable to comprehend the words that the calm healer had just casually used.
"What?!"
"What are your intentions towards my daughter, Sir Knight?" the healer asked, meeting Gwaine's stunned eyes.
"Uh," the knight said gracelessly.
"I thought as much. Our clan leader can marry you in the morning. You are well enough to be on your way now, and Talaith will be happy to go with you."
"What?" Gwaine asked, unable to iterate anything more complex.
"Go to Talaith, you will understand."
Gwaine nodded wordlessly, and ambled towards the river where Talaith had gone to bathe an hour earlier. He came upon her as she was squeezing the water from her long, red hair, her pale green dress bringing out the green fire of her eyes.
"Gwaine?" she asked, her brow wrinkling as she watched him stumble to a stop just feet away from her.
"Marry me," he blurted out, completely shocked by the words that he hadn't consciously meant to say. A smile stretched across Talaith's face.
"Found your way out of your arse then?"
"Wha?" Gwaine asked his confusion evident.
"Oh, shut up," Talaith said, stepping forward and grabbing Gwaine, pressing her lips against his as her hands wound their way into his hair.
Thus, Gwaine found himself standing before Talaith the next morning, the both of them dressed in simple, homespun linens. Talaith smiled, radiant beneath her crown of leaves and flowers. Gwaine barely felt the garland the Druid elder bound their hands together with, and wasted no time in kissing his new wife as soon as the handfasting was complete.
The two of them took their time traveling to Camelot, though neither of them minded sharing Gwaine's horse. As they entered the courtyard, the knight's eyes widened and a red tinge flushed his cheeks as he realized that Arthur had arranged a formal welcome. The king and queen stood front and center, Merlin and Mithian flanking them to the right, and the knights arranged on either side. Gwaine tried his hardest to give off a cool, unconcerned attitude, but he sighed in defeat when he heard Talaith's soft snicker and saw Merlin's triumphant grin.
"Gwaine, would you care to introduce us to your companion?" Arthur asked amiably, not missing the glee that Merlin was doing nothing to hide.
"Of course, Sire," Gwaine said, hopping down from his horse and turning to assist Talaith down as well. The two of them intertwined their fingers and turned towards the assembled gathering. "This is Talaith, my wife."
Merlin was glad of the chance to finally return the teasing the roguish knight had mercilessly heaped upon him, especially when it soon became apparent that Talaith was with child. Merlin's triumph doubled when the Druid woman was safely delivered of twin girls, their fiery curls just as vibrant as their mother's. Gwaine was now the one chasing after magical children.
Sometimes revenge, Merlin decided, really was sweet.
In hindsight, Merlin realized that he should have known that the year Amhar came of age and was crowned prince of Camelot would be an eventful one. It was also the year that Arthur turned fifty-five, which had left the king feeling out of sorts as Merlin could no longer hide the fact that he and Mithian weren't aging at the same rate as their friends.
"Promise me that you will look after my family after I am gone," Arthur asked beseechingly as they watched Amhar's irrepressible grin that shone far brighter than the circlet Arthur had placed upon his head only an hour previously.
"Don't be so morbid," Merlin answered. "You've got plenty of years with which to annoy me."
"Merlin."
The warlock looked seriously at Arthur. "I promise, Arthur, that I will care for your family as though they were my own."
"Thank you."
Merlin nodded his acknowledgement, grateful for the firm, comforting grip that Mithian had on his right hand. She knew how such requests from Arthur left Merlin feeling melancholy.
"Look, they're at it again," Mithian chuckled, drawing his eye to where his and Mithian's daughter, Carwen, was smiling shyly at Arthur and Gwen's youngest, Gwydre, as the young prince handed her a flower. They had both celebrated their eighteenth birthdays the previous spring and had recently developed an attachment to one another. Merlin narrowed his eyes at the sight, his protective instincts as a father of daughters flaring.
"Perhaps my family will be your own," Arthur teased, elbowing Merlin and laughing at the warlock's befuddled expression.
Within six months, Arthur's prediction became a reality when Prince Gwydre married Princess Carwen, officially uniting their families. Arthur was entirely too pleased with himself, Merlin decided, as he and Gwen sat in their thrones to preside over the wedding exactly as they had for Merlin and Mithian's so many years ago. Merlin had never appreciated just what a leap of faith it had been for King Rodor to walk his daughter down the aisle and give her hand to Merlin. As the two young lovers made their vows and their hands were bound in the ceremonial garland, Mithian gripped Merlin's hand and laid her head upon his shoulder, incredibly grateful for the course her life had taken in marrying a peasant-born secret warlock.
"I told you you had plenty of years left to annoy me," Merlin chided several years later as he and Arthur watched their wives coo and babble at their newest grandchildren. Though Merlin's eyes belied his true age, his face was still smooth and his hair dark. The years had made their mark known upon the king, however.
"You always did like to brag about being right," Arthur groused, chuckling as his friend smirked.
"I can't help it that I always am," Merlin teased.
"Arrogance. The folly of youth," Arthur laughed.
"I'll have you know, I am sixty-three!"
"Yet you and Mithian look thirty. What's your secret?"
"Magic," Merlin whispered conspiratorially.
It was a something that he wished he could share, especially as one by one, their friends and loyal comrades gave into their years. Then Guinevere took ill and passed away; Arthur's heart had been broken and Merlin feared that the Once and Future King would not be much longer for this earth. Amhar had long since become regent, though he refused to take his father's place as High King.
"Please, take me to the lake, Merlin," Arthur asked weakly some weeks later, and Merlin knew that the time he had dreaded for nearly sixty years had come. He and Mithian gathered their children, as well as Arthur and Gwen's and made the sojourn to the Lake of Avalon.
With his family's blessing and farewell, the High King of Albion stood as straight as he could between Merlin and Mithian's supporting arms and walked into the shallows of the lake. Instantly, his spine straightened as his attention was drawn towards a shimmering brightness emerging from the center of the lake. Three white-clad figures rose from the water and glided toward them. Merlin, Mithian and Arthur gasped as they recognised the figures; Guinevere stood in the center, her vibrant youth restored. She was smiling radiantly at Arthur. Morgana stood on her left, her beauty apparent once more and the madness cleansed from her countenance. She looked every bit the young, kindhearted woman she had been before the darkness had taken her over. On Guinevere's other side stood a woman that none but Merlin knew, but Mithian knew by reputation.
"Freya," Merlin greeted, smiling fondly.
"Merlin," she replied, returning the smile before she turned to Mithian. "Thank you for making him happy."
"It has been my pleasure," Mithian replied, nodding respectfully at the Lady of the Lake.
"Arthur," Guinevere greeted, stepping forwards towards her love. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," Arthur answered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I have missed you, Guinevere."
"And I you, but our separation is no more," she said, raising her arm towards Arthur in invitation. Arthur looked to Merlin, whose eyes were welling with tears.
"Until we meet again, my friend," Merlin said, his voice tight.
"No," Arthur replied. "Until we meet again, my brother."
Merlin smiled and pulled Arthur into a hug before the king could protest.
"I will miss you, Arthur. I'll keep watch over our family."
"Thank you," Arthur replied, pulling back with a smile and one last nod. Then he turned towards the three luminescent women and took Guinevere's waiting hand. Instantly, his age melted away, restoring Arthur to youthful vigor. With a smile and a joyous laugh, Arthur gathered his queen into his arms and kissed her.
Morgana smiled at the sight, looking over them to meet Merlin's eye. The two former foes held one another's gaze for a second before Merlin gave one, quick nod. Morgana gave a small smile before returning the nod. Then she and Freya each laid a hand on Arthur and Guinevere's shoulders and the four of them turned and walked back towards the shining center of the lake. Just before they disappeared into the glowing column, Freya turned back and smiled at them.
"Merlin?"
"Yes?"
"Your mother and father say hello, and well done." Then she stepped into the light and was gone.
With a deep shuddering breath, Merlin smiled tremulously, welcomed Mithian's comforting embrace and murmured toward the lake, "Until we meet again, Arthur, my brother."
Merlin kept his promise; he and Mithian kept watch over theirs and Arthur's family for three more generations before Albion fell to the Saxon invasion. After they fled into the north, they kept watch over Arthur and Guinevere's descendants from a distance with the help of their own long-lived children.
But Arthur was never far from their minds, and their patience was rewarded nearly six hundred years to the day that Arthur stepped into Avalon. Merlin and Mithian had seen and felt the tremblings from the Old Religion as Avalon prepared to surrender the Once and Future king to destiny once more.
Therefore Merlin stood anxiously upon the shores with his wife, eagerly awaiting the moment he had been anticipating for six centuries. Without warning, a blinding column of white burned brightly in the center of the lake and Merlin felt like shouting in his joy. His patience was rewarded when out of the light, Arthur strode forward, Guinevere's hand held tightly within his.
The Once and Future King and Queen came to a stop, dressed in ornate clothing befitting their rank, upon the shores of Avalon. Merlin only just stopped himself from grabbing the both of them in a hug. The warlock looked to Mithian's joyous face and laughed exuberantly before turning back to his king and saying the words he had waited at long last to say.
"Welcome back, Arthur."
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I've thoroughly enjoyed reading your reviews, especially those who reviewed regularly. I hope you all have enjoyed this story as much as I've loved writing it! I'd love to hear what you loved the most:)
Thanks again for reading,
ebhg:)
