Author's Note: I feel awful for the continued lack of updates for Hope Lost, so I've decided to push ahead with this story in consolation. I swear chapter 2 of Hope Lost is half written and being worked on, I've just been struggling with a particular scene with Gwen starring in it. I've never really liked Gwen and it's been a tricky scene to write.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, though I truly wish I did.

Warning: Same as last chapter, Merdred, maleXmale, you've been warned!

Chapter 2

For the next few weeks, Merlin attended to Mordred in both the morning and evening. He got up hours earlier than usual now, so he could attend to Mordred first then make it to Arthur's chambers before the King realized anything was amiss. And he would go to Mordred's room late at night after being dismissed from Arthur's service for the night. Surprisingly, the system worked, though, Merlin was often tense being alone with Mordred in his room. In the few weeks that he'd been attending to Mordred, he'd come to build a banter similar to the one Merlin shared with Arthur though the hints of flirting were definitely absent from Merlin and Arthur's banter. Merlin was having trouble seeing the young knight as even a remote danger now that he'd gotten to know him better. It unnerved Merlin how close the two had grown in their tentative friendship that now Merlin didn't even mind being openly friendly around the other knights and Arthur.

Merlin now was busying himself with tedious chores in Arthur's chambers as he pondered how much Mordred had grown on him. Merlin had even stopped caring that Mordred refused to call Merlin by anything over than Emrys. Now, it was even endearing to Merlin and made him feel special. He couldn't help, but worry though that the future he had been shown would still come true. Merlin was playing with fire at the moment, and for once he didn't care. Shaking his head, he scowled down at the floor he was scrubbing, blaming the floor for all his conflicted feelings. "Did the floor insult you, Merlin?"

Snapping out of his conflicted thoughts, he glanced over to Arthur who was eyeing Merlin curiously from his desk chair. "I was just thinking, Arthur. Something you clearly don't have enough practice with."

Surprisingly, Arthur seemed unaffected by Merlin's insult as he frowned at Merlin, "Does your thoughts have anything to do with Sir Mordred?"

Merlin nearly toppled over with surprise. He gave Arthur an incredulous look, clearly stunned by Arthur's perceptiveness, "And why do you ask that?"

Arthur leans back in his seat, smiling victoriously that he caught Merlin off-guard, "Merlin, you're practically an open book. It's rare that you can hide anything from me. I know that you've been spending a lot of time in Sir Mordred's chambers. And, well, with your…" He pauses for a moment, "Preferences, I could put things together fairly easily."

Merlin mulled over what Arthur said, catching on the slight pause and the inflection on certain words, "Wait, what?"

Merlin gaped at Arthur with shock. Did he think, that Merlin was sleeping with Mordred? He looked at Arthur with a horrified gaze. Why did he think that? And how did he know I would think of other men like that? "Sire, I assure you that it isn't what you think."

Arthur smiled wickedly, "Don't deny it, Merlin. I've seen the way you look at him. And well, I know that you don't have problem with sharing a bed with another man."

Merlin's eyes seem to go so wide that he feared his eyes would pop out of his skull, "H-How? W-What?" Shaking his head to attempt to clear his thought, "Why do you think that?"

A sly smile flickered across Arthur's lips, "I went out to collect you from the stables once and caught you having a very heated make-out session with a stable boy." Arthur shook his head, ruefully, "Truthfully, I was stunned at first, but it doesn't matter now. I know that not everyone has the same tastes and I even know some nobles that prefer to take other men to bed with them. No shame in that."

Heat rose to Merlin's cheek as he flushed ruby red at Arthur's explanation. Merlin knew what Arthur was talking about with the certain nobles with certain interests. He had been propositioned too many times for it to be too abnormal. At least Merlin could blame his magic for his strange tastes. Technically, Merlin couldn't even be considered truly human. He was a creature of Old Magic that just happened to seem human, though Gaius would disagree with Merlin on that point. Only Kilgarrah seemed to take him seriously when Merlin wondered if he was truly human. As long as he stayed away from the word 'monster', Kilgarrah took most of Merlin's rambling thoughts into consideration. Merlin licked his lips nervously, memories surfacing in his mind as he remembered the particular event that Arthur mentioned. "You saw that?"

Arthur nods, flashing Merlin a comforting smile, "Yes. And afterwards I was quite happy for you." A devious glint flickers in Arthur's eyes, "It's why I sent you to the stables so much, hoping you could spend more time with the lad."

Again, Merlin nearly toppled over from sheer surprise. Arthur being thoughtful? Merlin pondered the ramifications of such a statement and wondered if the balance of the world had suddenly been knocked off kilter by Arthur's obvious display of affection. Cautiously, Merlin took a seat in a chair set beside the small dining table, "Do you know what happened to him?"

Frowning, Arthur seemed thoroughly confused by Merlin's question. "No, I figured you two must have had a falling out if you're showing such obvious affection for Sir Mordred." Arthur's eyes widen, "You're not still involved with him, are you?"

Merlin scoffs, insulted by Arthur's assumptions as he retorts, "You know me better than that."

Placated, Arthur's wide-eye gaze fades and the frown returns, "So what did you mean?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Merlin's anxiety spiked. He didn't entirely want to tell Arthur of what happened to the stable boy that Merlin could have loved. Merlin didn't want to bring any suspicion to himself, but he also knew that the King staring at him intently wasn't going to drop the conversation without knowing the whole story. The thought of telling the story made Merlin's heart clench and his eyes nearly welled with tears. He had lost so much to magic and its persecution. To think he had to relive any of the painful moments in his life again made Merlin cringe inwardly. And it wasn't just the single story that caused him pain. He knew as soon as he opens his mouth and tells Arthur the story that he'll break down into tears. Not only will it remind him of the loss of the stable boy, but it also will bring back painful reminders of losing Freya, Will, Balinor, and Lancelot. All people Merlin loved in different ways. Sighing, resigned to his immediate breakdown he states simply, keeping his voice detached, "He's dead. Burned at the stake."

Arthur's eyes widen with horror, "W-what? Why?"

"For the crime of sorcery, of course. It's the only crime punishable by the pyre, Arthur. You know that as well as I."

Arthur cringed visibly, upset by the bitterness in Merlin's statement, "Was he guilty?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed on Arthur in anger, "Does it matter if he was? He didn't ever harm anyone." Internally, Merlin thought miserably, he didn't even know he had magic until it was too late.

Again, Arthur was startled by Merlin's reply. "Sorcery is evil, Merlin. Surely you have learned that by now."

Merlin snorts, "Yet you leave the Druids completely free, and you have even knighted a Druid. By your own statement you should have killed them already."

Arthur seemed troubled by Merlin's response, but also thoughtful. His eyes soften for a moment as he regards his troubled manservant. Clearly, the anguish that Merlin had been trying to disguise was not as hidden as Merlin had thought. Arthur eyed him with concern for a moment before finally asking with a gentleness that Merlin had never heard before from Arthur, "Why don't you tell me about it, starting from the beginning."

Merlin pondered it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons before finally succumbing to the desire to speak. Who knows, perhaps telling the story will help Arthur see magic as not inherently evil. "Well, the first time I met Ethan was two years ago…"

/BREAK/BREAK/BREAK/

Merlin huffed in annoyance as he shoveled the hay and manure out of the stable, grumbling under his breath the entire time. Again, Merlin had annoyed Arthur at a very poor time. The stress of being King has started to truly affect the man's judgment lately particularly in regards to his uncle, Agravaine. Merlin has known for quite some time that Arthur's uncle was not as devoted to Arthur as he had led everyone to believe. He had overheard more than one conversation held between Agravaine and the witch, Morgana and even stopped more than one of their plots. It annoyed Merlin greatly though that despite all that he knows, Merlin was still powerless to remove Agravaine. Not without killing the man in cold blood, which isn't something that Merlin would ever resort to. Sighing again, Merlin's frustration and anger making him antsy, when suddenly he was caught off guard by an amused voice just a few feet away, "I'm pretty sure this stall is not only clean, but hay-less."

Merlin first looked down at the stall floor realizing that the voice was indeed correct. The entire stall was spotless, so spotless that not even a speck of hay was left in the very empty stall. Turning around, he smiled sheepishly as he looked around for the voice. Whatever apology or explanation that Merlin was about to say faded as his magic suddenly surged to the surface, barely contained as it struggled to escape. The man leaning against the stall door nonchalantly was the definition of handsome with strong, handsome features, piercing green eyes, and short, spiked brown hair. His smile had a roguish charm that left Merlin struggling to breath. And the most interesting part was the warm glow of magic that radiated from the other man, which Merlin's own magic seemed to be struggling to reach. Finding his voice, Merlin scoffed softly, tossing the pitchfork into a corner before walking over to the man, "Well, then it's doubly clean, so King Prat can't complain."

The other man gaped openly at Merlin, his eyes wide with shock at Merlin's teasing tone and insult. Merlin had a feeling he was about to get another lecture about showing respect to the king, when suddenly the other man burst out laughing. Now it was Merlin's turn to gawk at the other man. Taking in Merlin's dumbstruck expression, the stable boy collected himself then flashed Merlin a knowing smile, "You must be Merlin, the King's personal manservant then. I've heard a lot about you."

The stable boy's statement didn't quite surprise Merlin. He was very well-known amongst the other servants of Camelot for both his clumsiness and his friendship with the King. Merlin flashes the other man an amused smile, "I hope you've heard good things about me."

The stable boy's signature wicked grin spread across his lips, "I've heard enough to say it's more good than bad." The other man reaches out and offer's Merlin his hand, "My name's Ethan."

Merlin accepted the man's hand, giving him a surprisingly firm handshake, "I hope we can be good friends, Ethan."

And good friends they became. For the next few weeks, Merlin ran into Ethan quite a lot. The two got along well, and the two didn't mind shirking work once and awhile to enjoy some well-deserved free time. Both pulled more than one prank on various knights and nobles throughout the castle. It was a wonder the two hadn't earned a reputation as troublemakers. Though, one night a particularly amusing prank on Arthur did not go unnoticed by the King, which led to Merlin yet again mucking out the stables. Luckily, the work was done quickly with the help of Ethan, who wasn't caught but decided to help anyways. Merlin had finished his designated stables and was now watching Ethan as he worked on the last of his stables, chuckling with amusement, "You know you didn't have to help me, it wasn't your punishment."

Typical for Ethan, all he does is flash his usual devious smirk, "I'm a stable boy, and it's technically my job anyways."

Merlin grimaces bitterly, "Not when I have to clean it. All the stable boys get a paid day off when Arthur decides to punish me with mucking out the stables."

"See, completely unfair. I refuse to get paid for not doing any work."

Merlin raises an eyebrow at Ethan in question, knowing that Ethan's statement was complete bullshit. Ethan sets his pitchfork down, finally finished with work, and sighs at Merlin's questioning stare. "Don't give me that look; you know why I did this."

"I do?" Merlin frowns slightly, oblivious to the fact Ethan had slowly been inching closer. Inside, Merlin's magic was squirming around, begging for Merlin to reach out and touch the handsome stable boy. It reminded Merlin of the way his magic reacted to the Lady Morgana whenever they were in the same room together.

A mischievous smirk spreads across Ethan's handsome face as he lunges forward. The two, servant and stable boy, slam into the wall with Ethan pressing Merlin forcibly against the wall. His lips crash together with Merlin's, the two sinking into a passionate, tongue-dancing kiss that leaves both of them gasping for breath minutes later. The wooden walls of the stables bit into Merlin's back from being pressed against the wall, but with his magic purring inside him and his head in the clouds, Merlin was lost in a fog of pure bliss. Regaining some semblance of though, Merlin laced his arms around Ethan's waist, pulling him tighter to his body and kissing him back just as passionately. The unanswered question Ethan posed with his first kiss being answered with Merlin's responding kiss. Ethan pulled away first, his charming smile setting off butterflies in Merlin's gut. "Well, that answers that."

For weeks after, Merlin lived in a state of delight. Enjoying the company of Ethan during the day and basking in the man's love in the evening. It was rare for Merlin to sleep in his own bed, opting to stay with Ethan each night. It was one of those nights, weeks later, when the most unfortunate event happened. The magic Merlin felt in Ethan when they first met surged to the surface one night and set alight all the candles in the room. Ethan panicked, barely aware as he clung to Merlin in fear. The fear wasn't for the magic's use, but because he had no control. Merlin murmured comforting sympathies to the older man that he loved so dearly even if Merlin would never admit it. Because of his love for Freya, she had died days after meeting Merlin the first time. Call it irrational, but Merlin couldn't bring himself to admit his feeling anymore after that. He had lost everyone he loved so far, one way or another, and he wouldn't risk Ethan in that way. And it was with those thoughts that a pained Merlin sent his beloved stable boy out of Camelot. Merlin helped Ethan prepare to leave and promised to wait for Ethan when the time came that magic would be accepted again. It was with a heavy heart that Merlin bid farewell to Ethan and prayed for a time they could meet again. But it was never meant to be, for like Freya before him Ethan was doomed from the start. News spread through the castle of the stable boy's capture, though through some sick twist of fate Merlin was the last to hear of Ethan's execution.

It was like any other day for Merlin, though that day he carried a heavy burden on his heart, when he strolled into the castle courtyard. He flinched uncomfortably at the sight of the pyre, his normal reaction to its appearance. Grimacing, he forced himself to maneuver into the crowd to watch the macabre scene, a reminder of the freedom he's working for. His gaze flicked from the pyre to the balcony where his friend, the King, stood solemn and with a slight frown marring his handsome features. This would be the first execution held during Arthur's reign, and Merlin was slightly relieved to see how uncertain Arthur looked. Hope fluttered in his chest that soon the future of Albion and a land of peace would be arriving sooner rather than later. In the next minute though, everything changed. Horror washed over him like a cold bucket of water was dumped down his back. "No…" Merlin's strangled whisper barely escaped his lips as his eyes widen at the man being dragged to the pyre.

It was Freya all over again. Ethan; covered in grime and wearing tattered rags. Tears filled Merlin's eyes as he watched his lover being dragged to the pyre and tied to the stand. Arthur's speech in the background faded to nothing other than a buzzing noise against the pounding of Merlin's heart. Ethan's wandering eyes catch Merlin's pained filled ones and Ethan offers him a shaky smile. Merlin's heart breaks at the sight, silent tears now openly streaming down his cheeks. The fall of Arthur's raised hand breaking through Merlin's pain-fogged mind as the guard drops the torch on the pyre. Merlin's eyes shuttered close as the pyre lit quickly, the flames consuming the dry wood faster than a wildfire. Ethan's pained screams broke Merlin's heart even more as he listened to the man he loved die the most painful of deaths. It killed Merlin a little inside to know that Arthur had yet again killed someone he loved. This time though, Arthur didn't have any good excuse. He waited along with everyone else, brooding in his own thoughts until Ethan's pained cries faded and finally disappeared before walking away, his heart yet again broken…

/BREAK/BREAK/BREAK/

Merlin quickly wiped the tears out of his eyes as he finished the retelling of the story. Arthur was staring at Merlin, dumbstruck by what he was just told. It was clearly a painful story for Merlin to relive, and the tear tracks on his cheeks were proof of the pain the memory still held to him. Arthur didn't realize that Merlin had conveniently left out the tiny details of his own magic, but other than that, he had been told a perfectly truthful story. Choking back his own sympathetic tears, Arthur recovered enough of his wits to state, "The practice of sorcery is illegal, Merlin. I understand it's a painful loss, but a necessary one."

Arthur was trying to portray his sympathy for his pain through his gentle gaze, but was utterly shocked when Merlin rocketed to his feet, anger blazing in his eyes. "Necessary!?" Merlin's voice was raised only slightly, his eyes narrowing dangerously on Arthur, "You persecute what you don't understand, letting your biases and hatred taint your opinion on an entire group for the actions of a few. You claim to want peace and justice yet slaughter innocents for no reason other than your pride," Merlin's voiced dropped to a low hiss, his lips pulled back in a very un-Merlin like snarl, "You're no better than Morgana."

Arthur sat, shell-shocked at Merlin's words. Never had Merlin ever sounded so angry, and never had Arthur seen Merlin with such hatred in his eyes. Merlin turned, stalking out of the room quickly and slamming the King's door shut with a loud bang that echoed in the room long after Merlin left. A cold fear snaked down Arthur's spine causing him to shiver slightly. Did Merlin really believe that? For a moment, Arthur felt broken inside, hurt by the idea that his best friend would compare him to his monster of a sister. Could Arthur blame him though? He had executed the man that Merlin had loved on the word of a couple nobles. Technically, the stable boy had never shown any outward signs of magic and had never hurt anyone openly. Merlin was the only one that actually had a first-hand account of the boy having magic and from what he said, Ethan had never learned magic. He was born with the ability. That idea shook all of Arthur's believes to the core. Was it right to kill someone for the crime of being born?

Gwen entered the room to find her beloved husband with a frown on his face and his mind miles away. A frown flickered on her lips as well as she quickly made her way over to Arthur and sat down in a chair close to Arthur's side, "What's the matter, Arthur?"

Arthur was shaken from his thoughts as he glanced over at his wife, his eyes haunted with pain and confusion. Wouldn't Arthur feel the same as Merlin if it had been Gwen on the pyre instead? Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that Merlin was a much better man than him. He couldn't comprehend even the idea of forgiving a loved one's murderer. If he'd been in Merlin's shoes, Gwen's murderer would be lying in a pool of his own blood. But Merlin hadn't once planned revenge. No, if Merlin was to be believed, Arthur had not only killed one of Merlin's loves, but two. Arthur grimaced, his worried wife waiting expectantly for Arthur to speak. "Did you know Merlin use to love someone?"

Gwen's eyes widened, caught off guard by Arthur's sudden question, "No, I didn't. I've wondered sometimes, but I never actually seen him with someone…" Her voice trailed off as hurt also flickered in her eyes, "Why didn't he tell me he was in love? I thought we were friends."

Arthur took Gwen's hand gently in his own, trying to reassure her, "It's difficult for him to talk about."

Gwen's hurt quickly shifted to confusion, "Difficult? Why?"

Running his free hand over his face in frustration, he sighed, "Because his first two loves are dead."

Gwen gasped, her eyes suddenly sparking with sympathy, "Poor Merlin. That must have been painful for him."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his tongue before he could speak. This was the hardest part for Arthur. He wanted to open up and tell Gwen so he could get her advice and counsel, but also he didn't want to admit that all Merlin's suffering was his fault. Finally, Arthur quietly choked out, "I killed them."

Her eyes widened in shock, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening in disbelief, "What?!" She exclaimed incredulously.

"He just told me. His second love was burned at the stake for sorcery, and I believe his first happened in a similar way as well."

Gwen frowned, "Why would you assume that? Perhaps, his first died of illness or bandits. Did he blame you?"

Arthur shook his head, "Not directly. He only said her name was Freya and when he told the story of his second love's death…" He paused, not really wanting to continue but knowing he must, "He said that I killed them both, but that with Freya I had good reason and Ethan I didn't."

Gwen was clearly confused, but also her body seemed tense from other emotions that Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on. If he wanted to guess, he'd say Gwen was a mixture of hurt and disappointed. Arthur sighed again, crumpling in defeat. The wounded pride he'd been carrying before from after Merlin's angry rant faded under Gwen's disappointment. He wished fervently that he could make up for his mistakes and help Merlin somehow. He didn't want Merlin to hate him nor for him to hurt anymore and he didn't want Gwen to look so disappointed in him. Arthur's pride set aside, he resolved to fix things for Merlin starting with pushing the young Mordred and Merlin together. A wicked grin touched his lips and he lifts his gaze from his lap to grin warmly at his amazingly, beautiful wife, "I have an idea how to make things right."

Gwen eyed him, disbelief and amusement warring in her eyes, but finally amusement won out, "Then best you get working on it." She stands and leaves her husband to his planning.

/BREAK/BREAK/BREAK/

Rage, pure unadulterated rage was coursing through Merlin's veins making his blood boil and his head pound. He could hear the sky rumble ominously in sync with Merlin's blinding fury. His magic was spiking dangerously inside himself, and Merlin was quick to escape Arthur's vicinity. Merlin had enough humility to admit he was scared of himself at the moment. He knew that his rage could be devastating and the last person that angered him didn't live long to regret it. But Arthur was Merlin's friend, even if the prat was emotionally stunted and didn't realize how insensitive his words were. That wasn't an excuse to hurt the King, and Merlin knew he would regret it if he did. With that in mind, Merlin made his way up the stairs and meandered through the halls with a location in mind. It didn't take long for Merlin to exit the castle's interior and took a breath of fresh air. He carefully picked his spot on the battlements, sitting with his legs draped over the edge and sitting in between a broken part of the half wall. The wall had been broken in Morgana's last siege and because of its unimportance had been left unfixed by orders of the King. Despite the poor safety of Merlin's chosen sitting spot, it was a great place to think. It was far enough out of people's way that no one wandered up there, and it had a beautiful view of Camelot. Merlin watched the skies thoughtfully; the darkened clouds and ominous rumbling echoed Merlin's troubled thoughts. He could feel his magic pouring out of him and saturating the sky, a safety precaution to keep the powerful warlock from exploding later on. It was hours later when he felt someone prodding at his brain. Merlin could guess immediately who it was and quickly pulled down his mental shutters keeping Mordred's prodding at bay.

The peace and quiet didn't last much longer though for not fifteen minutes later he could hear the echo of footsteps approaching. Merlin huffed in annoyance guessing who was arriving at Merlin's hiding place from the softness of the footsteps. He didn't even look up as he heard the door open and close, or when the figure approached him and sat down at his right side silently. The silence grew between two before finally the man beside Merlin spoke, "Bottling your feelings up will only cause you more problems later on."

Merlin glanced at Mordred, raising an eyebrow in question, "Have much experience in that area then?"

"More than I would ever want."

Merlin scowled, frustrated at the young knight's calmness. The man was beyond frustrating sometimes. He could be playful and flirtatious one moment, and the next be as cold and indifferent as a statue. "I can't talk to anyone! Everything that I've experienced could get me executed! Every loss I've felt, every secret I keep is because of necessity."

Mordred glanced at Merlin, his expression carefully guarded, "You don't have to hide anything from me, Emrys. You know I would never turn you in…" his eyes softened gently at the fuming Merlin, "It's not healthy to hide your grief. Grief only leads to revenge and anger, Emrys; you've seen plenty examples of that from your time in Camelot have you not?"

How does he do that? Merlin scowls at Mordred in frustration. The young knight could read Merlin so easily and it frustrated the warlock to know end. He thought he had grown fairly adept at hiding his emotions by now, but clearly not well enough if Mordred could tell what was truly bothering Merlin underneath the rage. "It's buried, long gone. There's no point in dredging it up now."

"That's not true, and you don't honestly believe that. You're trying to delude yourself because you've gotten so use to hiding. It's become natural for you to dodge questions that might lead to suspicion about your secret, and I understand that, Emrys. But there is nothing for you to hide from me."

Merlin was conflicted. The points that Mordred had brought up were all relevant and rang true with Merlin, but yet something still held his tongue. Frowning slightly, Merlin thoughtfully examined the knight beside him. The man had done nothing to show any disloyalty to Arthur or Merlin and had befriended the King and his knights. Mordred had even had gone out of his way to earn Merlin's friendship as well despite Merlin's obvious distrust. Merlin needed to get everything off his chest, and why not tell Mordred? Out of everyone, Mordred would probably be the most likely to understand Merlin's pain the best. His shoulders slumping in defeat, Merlin sighed softly, "I'm tired Mordred. I've lost so many people for Destiny's cause and yet I've made no progress in accomplishing it. I've lost friends, family, and lovers to keep my secret hidden and it's killing me. Freya died because I wanted to runaway with her. My childhood best friend died to protect Arthur and to keep my secret hidden. Lancelot sacrificed himself to protect me. Ethan died because I was too afraid to admit my secret and he lost control of his magic. And my father, Balinor, died defending me after Arthur and I pulled him out of hiding."

Mordred's eyes softened with compassion the more Merlin spoke. By the end of Merlin's speech, Mordred's hand rested on his shoulder in a display of comfort as tears began to streak from Merlin's eyes. "It sounds like most of them chose to defend you. Their deaths weren't your fault."

A sob racked Merlin's body, "And what of Ethan and Freya? They didn't die by choice. They were murdered for their secrets because I wouldn't reveal mine."

The clouds that had collected above them darkened and let loose a downpour of rain. The skies seemed to be crying with the powerful warlock as he sobbed openly and leaned deeper into Mordred's side. Mordred pulled his hand away from his shoulder and then draped that arm over both his shoulders and pulled the sobbing warlock closer to him, "I guess… I guess we just have to hope. That those we love haven't died in vain, and that we can someday bring peace for our people and spare others the pain of losing loved ones."

Merlin curled into Mordred's side, his hands tightening in Mordred's shirt as he rests his head on the young knight's chest. Merlin's tears mix with the rain as the two continue to sit allowing the rain to soak them to the skin. Yet despite the persistent rain, the two continue to stare thoughtfully off into the distance in silence. As Merlin's sobs fade and tears stop to fall, the rain finally trickles to an end as the sun begins to rise. Merlin shifts for the first time in hours, pushing against Mordred's chest so he could lift his head up to look into the knight's sharp blue eyes, "And someday at a dawn of a new era, we'll get our wish."

A smile spreads across Mordred's lips, and then both turn to watch the sun rise with new hope shining in their eyes.