Yet another tragic Merlin fangirl reduced to a state of emotional train-wreckery by the finale. Can't believe Merlin is left to wait for eternity, all on his own *clutches heart*
Anywho, this is my slightly angsty take on the events after Camlann.
Gwen was the last to leave him, and he waited for her until the very end.
He sat a lonely vigil by her bedside, high in the south tower of Camelot's great stone keep. The room was stifling in the ruddy heat of the fire, tall, stained windows shut tight so that the air grew hot and shimmered like the warm belly of an oven. Sickly sweet smoke hung in heavy white curtains, clinging softy to Merlin's skin, caressing his senses and willing him to succumb to their heady vapour. The fumes would numb her pain so that she might pass obliviously to the other side, but no such relief came to the warlock. Grunting, he tried to clear his throat of the opiate-smoke once more, with little effect. It was more of a habit now than a conscious effort; smoke, like the straws of fate, would go where it liked. A simple spell shielded his mind from the worst of the drug and kept his thoughts relatively lucid, but three days and three nights confined to the sleepless, deathly chamber were beginning to take their toll.
The Royal bedchamber was draped entirely in black, and Merlin hated it. Black was too much like death. Black was darkness, night and the end of all hope. The time for hope had long passed for Gwen, but still the sorcerer cultivated the urge to tear down the hangings that pressed in on them, blanketing him in a mood as dark and brooding as the cloth itself. Every ray of light was swallowed in the gloom, diminishing the candles to dim, wavering stars in an endless night sky, the fire a dying moon.
Even the Queen of Light herself was nearly swallowed. She lay alone in the Royal bed, as she had through all the long years since Camlann, steadfast in the solitude that had become her shield. Yet, she had refused to let loneliness consume her, and out of a widow's black had risen a woman of loyalty, justice and steel. She had taken up her husband's mantle almost without pausing to grieve, building the Camelot they had both envisaged upon the foundations he had forged. Yet, Time, the great destroyer, had stolen her strength and left her broken body to rot in the confines of the soft feather bed. Breath that had once raised armies now wheezed and bubbled wetly through tired lungs, the only sound to break the stifling silence of the black tomb.
Were it not for the tortured rattle of each agonising breath, Merlin could almost have imagined she was only sleeping, or already at peace. Swathed in a heavily embroidered gown of rich, white silk, her shrunken body lay entirely still, ensconced in a battlement of pillows, hands folded gently upon her breast. Silver hair rippled over her shoulders in shining waves to spread into a soft sea around her elbows. Her tender round face, once heralded for its beauty, was now furrowed and wrinkled with age. Delicate crow's feet branched from closed eyelids that fluttered restlessly over kind brown eyes, blinded to the world. Never again would they smile at Merlin, compassion and wisdom swimming in their earthy depths. Age might have ravaged her body, but her eyes had always sparkled with a youth and vitality that startled him.
Of all the things his life had become, nothing reminded him more of Gaius' than Gwen's eyes.
Yes, it's short, please don't be disappointed! Next part will be uploaded very soon :) I almost posted this fic as a one-shot but decided it would be way too ridiculously long that way...
