Wow, over 50 chapters! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, favourited, etc. – I really appreciate it! Also, this collection is almost to 100 reviews, which makes me so happy!

This is a follow-up from the last chapter (Too Much To Bear), requested by Kumioko. Hope you like it!

Trigger warning for discussion of depression and suicidal ideation.

…

"Enter." The king's voice issued from the other side of the door.

Gwaine took a deep breath, then pushed open the heavy oak door and walked into the expansive chambers.

Arthur looked up from his desk, where he had been reading tax reports. An expression of surprise flickered across his face when he saw Gwaine; as far as he could remember, the knight had never knocked before entering his chambers, preferring to simply barge in unannounced.

"Gwaine", he greeted abstractedly, scribbling a note on one of the reports. "Shouldn't you be at the training session?"

"I need to talk to you", Gwaine said sombrely. Arthur straightened up, setting his papers aside. Seeing the usually jovial knight so serious was a rarity, and he knew better than to dismiss whatever Gwaine had come to say.

"Go ahead, then."

"Uh… is Merlin here?" the knight asked, looking around Arthur's chambers.

"He's helping Gaius", Arthur replied, his forehead creasing in confusion. "But you know that anything you say to me can be said in front of Merlin."

Gwaine shook his head, his expression grim. "Not this", he said quietly.

Arthur placed his forearms on the desk, leaning forwards.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What's so important that you need to miss training to tell me? Or that you don't trust Merlin to hear?"

"It's about him!" the words burst from the knight, almost unwillingly, but they were out in the open now. He hated that he had to do this – hated to even think of Merlin as other than the happy, loyal servant they all saw him as – but seeing his friend so broken, longing for death, had cut him deeply. He cared for Merlin, and he was terrified at the thought of losing his friend.

"What about him?" Arthur asked, his voice low and urgent. Gwaine wondered whether the king had seen the change in their friend. He was closer to Merlin than any of them; surely he had noticed some difference in his behaviour. And if he had noticed, it was no wonder that his first reaction was one of concern – Merlin may have been Arthur's servant, but Arthur had almost given up pretending that this was all there was to their relationship. Anyone close to the king knew that he trusted his servant more than anyone else.

He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't seem to find the words. Arthur watched him expectantly, clear blue eyes focussed unwaveringly on the knight standing before him.

"He… could we sit?" Gwaine asked abruptly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Of course." The king stood quickly, leading the way to the polished mahogany table and taking his usual place at its head. Gwaine followed more slowly, sinking down into the chair by Arthur's left hand.

"Uh…" he looked down at his hands, clasped tightly together, then back up at the king. "Have you noticed anything different about Merlin lately?"

Arthur bit his lip, thinking. "He's been quieter", he said finally. "Definitely not as chatty as usual. But he gets that way sometimes… he's usually back to normal after a few days." Was that what Gwaine was asking? Was this the reason he had not wanted the servant present while he talked with Arthur? He knew that none of those close to him would ever suspect Merlin of being a traitor – he had been at Arthur's side for too long, had risked his life far too many times to leave even a shadow of a doubt as to his loyalty to Arthur. Sometimes even Arthur wondered what he had done to deserve that loyalty, but Merlin's belief in him far surpassed his own, and had done so for many years now. So the only reason Gwaine would be talking to him about Merlin must be that he had noticed the servant's recent melancholy. Arthur had noticed too, of course, but Merlin's ridiculous insults and the big, stupid grin which popped up any time the king tried to ask him how he was going generally managed to dispel any worry he felt. Besides, as he had told Gwaine, Merlin was generally back to normal after a few days. Although, he realised, it had now been several weeks since he had first noticed his manservant's lack of chatter, and the sadness lurking in his deep blue eyes which he tried so hard to conceal.

Gwaine leaned forward.

"He's not okay", he said in a low voice. "He wouldn't want to worry you, or anyone, by saying something. But he's struggling, and I don't know how to help him."

Arthur drew back, his brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Sure, Merlin had been quiet lately. But he was alright… wasn't he?

"What do you mean? What's happened to him?" he demanded. In his worry for his friend, his voice came out more harshly than he had intended, but Gwaine didn't flinch.

"He's… having a rough time", the knight said carefully, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into his face. "It's been going on for a fair while, I'd say. You know he always says that he's fine, but… he's not, Arthur. He's really not."

"But why…" Arthur murmured. He shook his head as if to clear it, the tried again. "Why wouldn't he say something? Surely he knows he can trust me."

Gwaine offered up a sad smile, recognising the hurt in his king's eyes. He had felt it too, when he realised that one of his closest friends had been keeping things from him – but he understood now that Merlin did not keep secrets due to a lack of trust. He kept them, partly to protect his own life (and honestly, it killed Gwaine that his friend could be put to death for saving people's lives), but mostly to protect those he cared about. He didn't want them to be left without his protection if he were killed for being a sorcerer, and he didn't want them to be upset or concerned by how little regard he held for his own safety, for his own life.

"It's not that", he assured him quietly. "Merlin trusts you with his life. But he wouldn't want to – to burden you, by telling you. He was trying to protect you, to protect us… as usual."

"But he could have come to me", Arthur insisted. "It's not as though he didn't have the opportunity – we're with each other every day!" He was silent for a while and Gwaine, reluctant to tell the king what he knew he had to, did not speak. He was delaying an inevitable conversation, and he inwardly berated himself for his cowardice, but he could not bring himself to shatter Arthur with the revelation of just how deep Merlin had sunken into this depression. He thought now he could understand, at least a little, why Merlin had felt like he couldn't come to any of them with his problems. He could bear his own pain, but he couldn't bear to inflict pain on those he cared about.

Arthur's voice broke the silence. "How did you – did he come to you?" he asked quietly.

Gwaine shook his head, recognising the unspoken appeal behind the king's question – did he come to you and not me?

"I found him the other day, up near the battlements. He was… in a bad way."

"What do you mean?" Arthur interrupted, no longer making any pretence at hiding his concern for his friend. "Gwaine, just tell me already."

Gwaine bit his lip, mentally preparing himself for what he had to tell the king. He wished more than anything that he had never needed to have this conversation, but Merlin was clearly falling into a very dark place, and Gwaine couldn't pull him back by himself. Maybe his friend would resent him for telling Arthur, but an angry Merlin was infinitely better than a dead one.

"He was very upset", he said slowly. "He… Arthur, there's no easy way to say this – I wish I didn't have to – but he needs our help. He said… he said that he didn't want to be alive…" Gwaine confessed, looking up to meet the king's horrified gaze.

…

Arthur felt as though the ground had dropped out from underneath him. Merlin's presence was a part of his life, an immutable fact, like the sky being blue and grass being green. Camelot was his kingdom, Gwaine was one of his knights, Merlin was his friend… and Merlin wanted to die. How had he not realised how terribly wrong everything had become? How could he have unknowingly been living in a world which Merlin – somehow, inconceivably – no longer wanted to be a part of? What could possibly have happened to destroy his friend's optimism, his love for life?

"Why on earth would he want to die and LEAVE ME BEHIND WITHOUT EVEN SAYING ANYTHING!"

He realised he was shouting, every tendon in his arms standing out as he stood and slammed his palms onto the table. Gwaine looked up at him, sorrow written in every line of his face. The king stood still for a moment, frozen in place, then took a deep breath in and swiftly deflated, collapsing back into his chair and bringing a shaking hand to his forehead.

The two men sat in silence for a moment, united by their sadness, their concern, and their love for a man who had never given up on them. A man who had helped shape the kingdom, and its king, to establish the Camelot they all dreamed of.

"Why – why would he feel that way?" Arthur asked eventually, his voice thick with emotion.

Gwaine shook his head dully, not meeting Arthur's eyes.

"I can't say. It's not my place to say. But he needs help, and… I'll do what I can, but I'm not enough to save him. He needs you, Arthur."

Arthur drew in a long, shuddering breath.

"He has me", he said, quietly but firmly. "And you. We'll look after him, Gwaine. I promise, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe."

Gwaine nodded wordlessly, swallowing down the lump in his throat, and rose to leave. He paused at the door, looking back at his king and friend. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur raised his head, looking across at his knight. "Thank you for coming to me", he said softly. Then, in a voice so low Gwaine wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it, added,

"I couldn't bear to lose him."