Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

He got about two steps before Elen's spell stopped him in his tracks. Struggling against invisible magic bonds, he could barely hear people shouting at him through the screaming in his head. Only when someone came up behind him and tackled him to the ground did he realize that he'd been screaming aloud.

Nothing made much sense after that. Voices echoed around him, whatever they spoke garbled and meaningless. Time slipped by, shadows across the courtyard changing drastically in what seemed like the blink of an eye. His eyes burned and his throat ached as he knelt in a corner with Cleva's lifeless body in his arms, hearing his sobs as if they came from someone else.

Eventually the sobs stopped and the words came, and he heard himself rambling quietly, reminding his wife of all the good memories from the old days, of the happier adventures and even better times in between. Remember when...Wasn't it incredible, that one time...I wish we'd gone there more often...Do you remember…

Darkness had begun to fall when his voice cracked and faltered, and then someone's hands on his shoulders. Looking up in Elen's eyes, he heard her say, "She's gone, Gwaine. Let her go."

Slowly, painfully, he lowered Cleva gently to the ground, noticing with relief that someone had already shut her eyes. His sister covered the body with a sheet before guiding him inside one of the castle's rooms and making him lie down on a cot. He thought he heard her mutter a spell just before sleep overwhelmed him.

He woke up the next morning feeling numb; it took him several minutes to realize that Cleva's blood was still all over his clothing and hands. Elen turned up right after that with a basin of water and a change of clean clothes. "It seems like we'll have a couple days before Morgause comes back; some of the others brought the horses and supplies here. But to be safe we're planning on leaving as soon as we sort through some supplies here and...and have a funeral."

It took a while for him to understand. "...A funeral?"

"Yes, I...Gwaine, Cleva...her body wouldn't make it back to Anglesey. There's the river nearby...we could do...what we did last time…"

"Floating pyre, you mean." Starting down at the pink-tinted water swirling around his hands in the washbasin, he heard himself say, "Yeah. She asked for that, last time." She wouldn't mind it again.

Again, time seemed to mean nothing, as it felt like minutes passed between the conversation and the funeral itself. Except for Morgana and the child Mordred...because of course it was him...everyone gathered by the shore, voices low and expressions somber, though Gwaine hardly heard or saw any of them. The setting sun cast golden light across the river below the castle and the raft Percival and Haralda had put together from fallen trees. Somewhere in the fortress, Elen had found a collection of dresses, and had found a silver-blue one similar to an old favorite of her sister-in-law's.

Dressed beautifully with her long hair combed out and her fair face peaceful, Cleva almost looked to be asleep on the bed of ferns and logs. Not taking his eyes off his wife, Gwaine half-listened to Elen's shaky speech about Cleva's intelligence, her bravery, her loyalty. "She was a dear friend to many, a beloved wife, a wonderful mother, and stronger than most ever realized. Both in her old life, and in this one. She deserved another peaceful death, asleep in her bed with her loved ones around her." Elen stopped there, stifling a sob with her hand, seemingly unable to go on.

Arthur cleared his throat. "In the past, I admit that I didn't know Cleva all that well. In this life, however, on Anglesey...I got to know her a bit better. She worked tirelessly for the benefit of all, with nothing but love in her heart. I hope that, going forward, we can all honor that legacy." Allowing a few seconds of silence to pass, the king turned to Gwaine and asked, "Are you ready?"

Nodding stiffly, Gwaine moved to push the raft away from the shore, hesitating only a moment to memorize Cleva's face one last time. Leon and Lancelot stepped in to help when he struggled to move the raft. And as it began to float away, caught by the current, Elen moved forward.

Feeling a flicker of true emotion for the first time that day, Gwaine stopped her. "I should do it." Heart aching, he raised one hand. " Forbearnan."

The floating pyre burst into flames, burning brightly as it rounded the nearest bend.

Gone. This time forever.

They left the next morning, having scrounged the castle for useful supplies and successfully treated any minor injuries from the skirmish. Arriving in the courtyard last to find Morgana saddling Cleva's mare, Gwaine grabbed the reins and snarled, "You can't ride this one."

Spinning to face him, the witch stumbled back, eyes wide and full of panic. "I...I'm sorry, I…"

All eyes seemed to be on the scene unfolding. "Gwaine, that's the extra horse now," Haralda called from across the courtyard. "So she and the kid are riding it."

"No, she's not." He took a step towards Morgana and noted with satisfaction that she shrank back even further. Skinny, pale little Mordred clung to her waist. "Why are you two even still alive? Given your track record and all."

Morgana bit her lip, shaking her head. "I've changed! Ever since I remembered my past life, I've regretted...And he remembers nothing…" She wrapped her arms protectively around her son. "He's just a child…"

His hand was on his sword hilt when Lancelot seized his arm. "She can ride my horse," the knight said firmly. "I'll take Cleva's. Will that work?"

Gwaine shook him off and stalked over to his mount, leaving the others to work out the switch.

His sister's horse was next to his."We'll be keeping a careful eye on them," Elen said as she tightened the saddle girth. "I've talked to Morgana a lot since...I believe Morgause is the real villain here."

"Don't worry," Gwaine said shortly. "If either of them screws up, I'll kill them myself."

"You'll have to get in line." Arthur rode by, looking down at the siblings. "None of us are getting complacent, Gwaine, I promise you that."

The return journey to Anglesey, hurried due to worries over being tracked by Morgause, passed by in a blur. The only person who spent much time around Morgana and Mordred was Elen; everyone else avoided them, and seemed to want to keep Gwaine furthest away of all.

Most of the time, Gwaine didn't mind so much. Except for occasional flashes of raging fury that left him struggling to rein in his returning magic, he felt too tired and empty to care about what was happening around him.

What he did think and care about was the good things of the past, and the darker future that appeared to stretch out before him now.

Cleva's gone. And with her, pretty much any faint hope he'd had of seeing his children again. They're all gone, like Father, like Mother, Uncle Harlan, Aunt Aldora, Aldwyn…

Upon their arrival on Anglesey, Gwaine saw familiar anxious faces, heard murmured condolences, accepted embraces from family and friends, all the while feeling detached from everyone and everything. A few days passed, for most life settled back into familiar rhythms, and he wandered alone in a gray haze, vaguely realizing that he was being useless and a burden on everyone else, yet unable to pull himself from the fog. Nothing seemed get through, not Everard's well-meaning lectures or Elwin's jokes or Hertha's worry-laden questions. Sometimes, he believed a response would not only be exhausting, but would make things worse in the end.

Gone, gone, gone. Everyone always goes, leaving nothing. I wish I was gone, too.

Once, on a rainy day years ago, he had passed by his sister's open bedroom door and seen her laying on her bed, curled up on her side, facing the raindrop-splattered window. He'd known, somehow, that she wasn't asleep and had gone in, laid down next to her, and wrapped her in a hug that she'd leaned into for a long time.

That had been a week after their parent's died.

And now, on another rainy day far away from home, Gwaine lay on a bed in the room he and Cleva had shared for a few precious weeks, staring out a window. Somehow he wasn't surprised when his sister entered the room and did the same thing he'd done all those years ago. Like she had then, he leaned into the embrace.

It seemed like hours before she spoke. "I'm so sorry, brother." When he didn't answer, she said, "I felt it. When you used magic, I mean, right after...And I think, in that moment...I couldn't have used magic for anything if I tried."

It took effort to pursue her line of reasoning. "You think...Our magic is shared now? Only one of us can use it at a time?"

"It's a possibility."

"Huh. Guess we'll have to be really careful to not cut each other off whenever we're both in danger." A long silence passed, and he heard her draw a shuddering breath. "You okay, sis?"

"I'm pregnant."

She pulled away then, and they both sat up. He watched her as she kept her gaze on the window. "Have you talked to Hayden?"

"Yes, as soon as we got back to Anglesey. I'd suspected for a while, but...I'm sure now."

Gwaine tried and failed to make some mental calculations. "How long…"

"Five months, I think? I'll start showing any day…" Elen laughed a little. "I think I've been in deep denial...but it just sort of happened. I wasn't thinking about precautions before all this because I wasn't in and didn't want any relationship, even though I did like Hal a lot, then all our memories returned and I…I don't know."

"I get it. You were happy to have Hayden back." Like I was happy to have Cleva. Pulling Elen into another hug, Gwaine added, "Are you okay?"

"I...I'm worried, of course. We don't know how things will unfold going forward, the world's so dangerous…"

"The world's always been dangerous. Even in the best of times."

"True enough. But yes, I'm okay. I...I'm happy, in a way. So is Hayden."

"And I'm happy for you both." That's the truth, even if the feeling's muted right now. Gwaine sat back and smiled, though it didn't last long. "Next time there's a quest and magic is needed, I'll go instead of you."

"Yeah, not going to happen unless I'm at the waddling stage. Hopefully by then Merlin will be here."

"I'm with you there."

Pause. "I love you, brother."

"Love you too, sis."

The next morning, Gwaine went down to the training field, where Arthur, the knights, and their many students had gathered for morning training. Retrieving a sword and ignoring any and all concerned looks, he found Ruby practicing passes. She stopped when she saw him coming.

"You're still watching your sword arm too much," he said. "Leaving yourself open to attack on the other side."

"I know. It's just hard sometimes."

"It takes practice. Your movements are actually lot more fluid than when I left." He gave her a quick smile. "How's Amelie?"

"Oh, she's good. She started volunteering at the clinic, learning a lot there…" Ruby bit her lip, looking nervous. "Um, I...I'm sorry about Cleva." Her brow furrowed. "Are you...Well, asking if you're 'okay' is stupid right now, given how you've been…"

"Pathetic?" Gwaine twirled his sword absentmindedly. "Yeah, it's rough. But I'm surviving. Doing my best, you know? Trying, anyway." The teenager shrugged. "About all we can do, right? Try our best to make things better. For ourselves and everyone else."

For everyone still left, and those yet to come. "You're right, Ruby. Now, let's get to work. Show me your defensive position."