Disclaimer: Merlin's not mine.

Thanks so much to all who reviewed! A lot of people are following this, I didn't expect that. Here's the second chapter.

The Afterfall

Percival stormed out the palace door with Merlin, Leon, and the Queen following behind him as fast as they could run, until Percival stopped at a dead halt. Merlin crowded over the knight's shoulder to see it.

The farmer who had brought the news hadn't lied—there, looking barely alive, was Gwaine, tied to his black mare's saddle by the wrists and ankles. Percival heard Merlin's breath in quick, wondrous gasps behind him, and he himself felt like he could collapse, so he blinked over and over again to make sure the world was still upright.

"Get him off," Percival finally said. "Get him down from there," he hadn't heard his own voice sound like that since he looked Morgana in the eye.

The farmer leading the horse shook his head. "I tried," he said. "That rope's not natural."

"Gaius!" Leon called back into the palace while Guinevere stepped out from behind both Merlin and Percival. Her eyes looked sharp and narrow.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked. The farmer, who previously seemed calm about the whole situation, dropped his jaw at being directly addressed by the Queen.

"I—I mean, it won't be cut, milady," he stammered. "Look at it."

All three of them moved closer to the horse while Leon ran inside for the physician. Percival managed to stop staring at the pale but breathing face of Gwaine to glance down at the ropes tying him down, only to realize they weren't ropes at all.

Something clear and shimmering was knotted to him, something that could have been either water or mist if either water or mist could take solid shape on its own.

Percival had to blink again. "That's—"

"Magic," Guinevere breathed next to him, running a long finger over one of the shining coils. A trail of blue, purple, green, and yellow sparks followed the trace of her nail, but then the sparks vanished and the odd magical restraints wouldn't budge. "Thank you, sir," she said to the farmer, still frowning at the horse and its rider, "Thank you for returning our man to us."

The farmer seemed to understand he was dismissed and bowed low, "Your majesty," before walking dazedly away.

Merlin and Guinevere didn't look at each other, but Percival stared as she suddenly put her hand on the servant's back and moved Merlin closer to the horse, her own chin high. He nodded, and his jaw was set.

The expression made Percival wonder for the thousandth time what Merlin's story was, and how on earth the boy could talk to dragons as if they were old friends.

He'd been too late. Arthur was dead by the time Percival got to the lake to warn them Morgana was on her way.

Merlin suddenly stood on his toes, took both Gwaine's bound wrists in his hands, and whispered something odd-sounding. A yellow ring passed through his once blue eyes and the magical coils snapped, gently dissolving into a burst of those same sparks.

Percival didn't stop his jaw from dropping. He'd seen this coming and figured talking to dragons also meant sorcerer, but it was something else entirely to see Merlin's eyes, of all eyes, turn gold.

A loud clank erupted behind them. Guinevere's hair whipped against Percival's armor as they all swung to face the noise. Leon, on the highest palace step with Gaius, had dropped his sword on the ground. His eyes bulged at the floating sparks, his mouth moved soundlessly and Merlin stood frozen in his stare. Gaius looked on behind Leon, tensed as if prepared for anything from the knight, but Merlin was the first to break the pause by walking to the side of the horse.

"Ofbinde," he said, a little louder this time, grasping the coil around Gwaine's left ankle and stirrup. The sparks and gold eyes made another appearance as this knot broke, and when Merlin turned his glance toward Percival, the knight knew he was being given an order. With both hands, he steadied Gwaine, whose head was lolling back and forth with the release. Merlin walked around, took hold of the last restraint, and repeated his spell. Merlin. Doing spells.

Percival lifted Gwaine with a grunt and tried not to think about it.

Gaius travelled down the steps and prepared to examine his patient and all the while, Leon gaped at Merlin.

Guinevere ran up to Gaius. "Is he alright?" she asked, sounding almost desperate. Percival couldn't remember ever hearing her like that before. "Will he be alright?"

Gaius put his fingers to Gwaine's wrist. "His pulse is normal," Gaius said slowly, "…but his color is not. We'll have to get him to my chambers, but so far he's been lucky."

Percival looked down at the friend in his arms and realized his own shoulders were shaking. "He—he was dead," his voice escaped him as though he were choking. Something like salt was caught in his throat. "Gaius, milady, I swear he was dead—" and cold. More than anything, Percival remembered the cold of Gwaine's skin as he held his friend's fading face, and the white of his closing eyelids…the knight in his arms now was breathing…

"He'll live," they all snapped their attention to Merlin. "He will. We need him, so he will."

Percival blinked again and stared around at everyone there. The Queen's hands clenched into fists and she nodded, looking as though she was suddenly back on the battlefield. Gaius inhaled deeply and the permanent arch in his eyebrow sharpened, if possible, even more. Leon closed his mouth and looked somehow like a lost boy before finally looking away from Merlin and to Gwaine.

They needed Gwaine.

Just like that, no one had anything else to say.

Merlin turned and headed for the physician's chamber. Percival and Gaius followed him.

"In that first year alone, you saved my life more times than I can count, Merlin. You didn't think I'd want to know? You didn't think I'd want the chance to say thank you?"

What hurt more than he could have possibly imagined was Gwen's voice. It was softer and deadlier than he'd ever heard it, asking him questions he had no good answer for. Now Gwaine, who would have had the exact same questions, was almost dead on the mattress in front of him.

In that moment, Merlin realized why he only told Arthur the truth while he was dying. This part, everything to come after the truth, was too hard.

"…the chance to say thank you?"

It was a chance only Arthur got.

Arthur…

"…Merlin?"

Merlin inhaled and lifted his head from his knees too quickly, but he hardly dared believe his ears, "—Gwaine?"

A familiar groan sounded out from the figure on the bed in response.

Merlin leapt to his feet. It took all his restraint not to strangle Gwaine in a hug right then and there. "You're alive," and it was definitely something in between a whisper and a squeal that escaped his mouth, but he didn't care.

"I shouldn't be," said Gwaine's voice from beneath the hair hanging over his face. "Arthur isn't."

The tears making Merlin's eyes go glassy again stilled, and he shook his head. "Turn over, I can't see you," he said slowly.

For a moment, Gwaine's body didn't move. "Do you know why you couldn't make it to Camlann?"

Merlin winced. "Not now, Gwaine—"

"It was because I told Eira we were going there. Do you know why Morgana knew she would find you and Arthur in Avalon?"

"Stop it," Merlin said through gritted teeth.

Finally Gwaine rotated onto his back. "Because I told her where you both were."

Merlin forgot everything for a moment and stared. Gwaine looked completely unharmed. He looked like his old self. He looked beautiful.

"I don't have a scratch on me," he whispered, confirming Merlin's shock, "…and Arthur is gone. You were almost gone."

Merlin wasn't sure how long he stood there silent. He didn't remember thinking the words before he said them.

"…Maybe whoever saved you knew could handle that."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow and scoffed, a hopeless, hollow sound. "Handle what? How do you make amends for something like that, Merlin?"

"If you think I know the answer to that, you have no idea how much I have to make amends for," Merlin heard his own voice come out harsh, almost in a growl. "Don't you dare think you're the only one who deserves blame for all this, Gwaine. Not when I need you."

Gwaine's entire frame tensed and said nothing for a while. Merlin set his jaw and looked down. He had a feeling they would all be spending a lot of time in silence for a while. Arthur was loud enough for all of them.

"I never could say no to you for anything, could I?" Gwaine finally said. Merlin risked a glance at him—the knight's jaw was tight and his eyes were grim, but there was a wry twitch upward in his mouth, one that, Merlin hoped, could in time become his old smile.

And he'd worry about the implications of that remark later. "So, who did save you?" Merlin asked, both because he was curious and because he needed to change the subject.

"Oh, her," Gwaine trailed off, twisting his jaw and looking strange. "I've met her before."

Merlin frowned. "Um, who was it?"

Gwaine locked eyes with Merlin, who couldn't suppress an odd shiver. "You know her pretty well, I think," he said in a dry voice. "She lives in a lake."

I'm gonna make lots of references to my other stories in this piece. You don't have to read them if you don't want to, I'll make things clear here, but if you wanna know more about that last part you can go to chapter four of Sometimes I Dream about You.

Shameless self-advertising over. Please review :D