January 26th: I edited this a tiny bit, a couple spelling errors were really bothering me.
Disclaimer: Merlin's not mine.
Again, you guys, you seriously seriously rock. Thank you so much for reviewingggggggggg! I don't think I could have asked for a better set of readers-all of you comment on different things and have suggestions for different parts of this, so honestly thanks. Feedback helps direct my focus a lot because there's so much I want to cover in this story.
I hope you guys like this chapter. Well, maybe not like it, because I kept depressing myself while I was writing it, but I hope you think it works. Updates might be coming a little slower from now on, I'm back in school and back to my job and just back to my life in general. But, anyway, tell me what you think.
The Afterfall
Upon returning to his chambers, Gaius was greeted by the sounds of loud commotion behind Merlin's door.
"Leave her alone!" came Gwen's resounding command.
"It's a her?" said a voice so incredulous it could only be Gwaine's.
Apparently she ignored him, because the next thing Gaius's old ears could glean was a window being forced open and Gwen's voice getting softer as she said "It's alright, Aithusa, they won't hurt you."
One of the knights then said, "Exactly why not?" and Gaius closed his eyes and turned around.
I'm getting too old for this, he thought as he shut the door behind him. This was one mess he did not want to be involved in.
Three things registered in Leon's brain: that Gwen was holding him back from killing a dragon, that the dragon had a name, and that Gwen knew the name.
"Exactly why not?" Percival and Gwaine's gazes shot to him and Leon realized he said those words out loud. He also realized his fist was so tightly clenched around his sword handle that his hand was in pain. Gwen was at the windowsill, stroking the beast's head while it hovered outside. It was shriveled and white and hideous and she was so beautiful—the contrast made Leon feel almost sick.
"Because she's not dangerous without Morgana," Gwen said, still fixed on the moaning thing, flapping its skeletal wings against the sky.
Percival voiced Leon's next thought. "How do you know that?" instead of sounding angry, he just sounded amazed.
Gwen's brows were raised as she turned away from the beast just for a moment. "You never honestly thought I'd lock Merlin up for poisoning Arthur even before I knew he was a sorcerer, did you?" For a moment, Leon had no idea what she was talking about. "I was Morgana's for weeks after the dark tower, under an enchantment of hers the whole time. I got to know Aithusa well enough."
"You…" was all Leon could stutter out. He remembered that night, how hard she cried, how awful it was to watch...he remembered realizing how much he trusted her…
When the next exhausted words out Gwen's mouth were "Yes, well, none of you were all that difficult to fool," Leon felt as though he'd been slapped. "Except Merlin, that is," she continued dryly, almost to herself, "—although I suppose he would be better at spotting an actor than most."
"Don't say that about him," Gwaine said, something glinting in his eye.
The stare she leveled back at him was so inscrutable it might have been blank. "We don't know all he's hid, Gwaine," and her voice was soft. "It could be anything."
He's been here so long, he was closer to Arthur than I was, than she was, he's got it in him to kill all of us—"How could you let him walk without a leash, then?" Leon didn't stop himself from asking it, but he hadn't realized how he spat the question out until he saw the way they looked at him.
"If you're volunteering to be the one who holds it, be my guest," Gwen replied tonelessly—Gwaine, on the other, was smiling so ruthlessly he could have been ready to attack.
"I'd like to see you even try chaining Merlin to a post, Leon," he drawled. "If he took out half Morgana's blokes in the blink of an eye like that, I'll bet he's even more lethal up close."
"Exactly," Leon knew how frantic he sounded, but it took all his effort not to roar instead, "—He's lethal! Why are we pretending he isn't? He's a sorcerer and he just lost Arthur, why are we pretending he'll be in control of himself?"
"Why are we pretending we are in control of ourselves?" For the first time, Gwen's voice lifted into something dangerously close to a shriek. "He's not the only one who lost Arthur!"
And Arthur's face flashed through Leon's mind. He felt his mouth open and his body slackened as the thought of the golden king, his friend, dead, made the image go black. It faded to Guinevere in front of him, her eyes red and her frame tightened as if her muscles were being pulled in every different direction by forces she was barely strong enough to hold off. She's right. Arthur is…the unfinished thought was enough, even though Leon hadn't cried in years.
"We all lost him," Guinevere finished. Her voice was hollow, and Leon realized for the thousandth time how beautiful she was. "We learned he was dead this morning. Merlin can wait."
"…You were enchanted during Elyan's funeral?" Percival's voice broke suddenly through the room.
Leon felt all his hurt, anger, and confusion drop away at that.
Gwen's face blanched and it took her a few moments of staring at Percival before she said, "Yes."
Percival looked nothing less than ripped apart. Leon had to turn away from him, only to catch sight of Gwaine clenching his blankets in his fists with something indescribable in his eyes.
"I'm glad Merlin killed her." Percival finally said. Leon tried not to be abruptly scared of the enormous knight, but Percival rarely sounded as dangerous as he looked.
Gwen blinked and Gwaine's eyes shot open. "She's dead?" Gwen asked, simultaneously with Gwaine's "Merlin killed her?"
Merlin could kill Morgana. We've been trying to for years and Merlin was the one who killed her. Remember, Leon told himself, Merlin can wait, she was right, this can wait…
The hideous white dragon under Gwen's hand let loose a horribly pathetic cry.
At that moment, Leon couldn't have spoken if he tried.
Percival nodded, eyes almost black, eerily focused on the beast. "I stepped over her corpse trying to get to Arthur. That's when I saw Merlin talking to the dragon."
"This dragon?" Gwen gestured the white thing incredulously.
"No, my lady. The other one."
When something that could have been an incredulous snort of laughter emerged from Gwaine, all of them ignored it.
Gwen turned back to the unwelcomed visitor out the window. "Gwaine?"
He sobered. "My lady?"
"You're well enough to walk?"
"I'm well enough to dance."
"Would you come with me and help me show Aithusa to the stables?"
"Of course, your majesty."
"Thank you. Put a shirt on first."
His grin had a pale hint of his old roguishness that could, even now, make Leon equal parts amused and irritated. "If you truly insist."
Gwen nodded and walked out the room without a second glance at any of them. While Gwaine tugged his shirt over his head, Leon couldn't stop his hands from shaking. "Percival?" he finally asked.
"Hm?"
"Was this other dragon the ancient looking and sort of gold-colored one?"
Percival frowned. "Yes, isn't that the only other one still alive?"
Gwaine's eyes were narrowed as he walked closer. "Leon?"
But Leon was already out the door. He needed to find Merlin and demand to know how that dragon, the one that killed so many of his friends, was still alive.
The lake's one shore was easier to get to than the other. Actually, the lake of Avalon might as well have been a small ocean. The place Merlin set Freya and Lancelot from was the smallest mouth of it—from there it widened and stretched past a few dense forests on one of the manmade bridges. That side was harder to get to, and that was where Merlin set Arthur.
No need to go back there today, he hummed to himself along the way as if it were an encouraging journey song, no need to go back there today…
The trip didn't take very long. Had Merlin not been so worn, he would have felt that familiar guilt for not visiting in a while—ever since Freya died, he'd been coming here and talking to the water a few times a month, and when Lancelot died, he came even more. When Mordred was knighted, however, Merlin stopped leaving the castle so frequently.
He was protecting Arthur.
Lot of good that did you…
Merlin shook his head desperately, trying to rid his spine of that shivering voice curling up to his ear, the one that managed to sound like Kilgarrah, Morgana, and himself all at once.
The trees cleared around him and he saw the finest layer of mist hanging in spite of the clear day over the lake. Merlin breathed deeply, though unsteadily, in. He knew then he should have come here months ago.
"Freya," he called out softly as he sat himself on the shore. "I know it's hard for you to answer…but if you can? Please, I—" he stopped, "…I just need you," it was a pathetic finish, and he had a feeling it would be in vain.
This feeling hung in his chest until the suddenly stirred. He looked up and before he could blink, something rose through the surface—a girl, with a sweet pale face and long, dark hair thrown over her shoulders, glossy from wetness. When she opened her eyes, drops fell from her lashes and she smiled.
Merlin could hardly believe it. "You're—how are you…?"
Her eyes warmed as he trailed off and gaped at her. "It's good to see you, Merlin," Freya said. Hearing her voice shot more sparks through Merlin than he had felt since…well, since the last time he saw this lake.
"And it's good to see you," he said, completely without guile as he stared at her. His questions could wait—he hadn't seen her in so long and she looked as young and beautiful as the day he said he'd run away with her. All that was different in Freya now was her eyes. They were older, a deeper brown, and seemed to shine brighter with the water he knew was now a part of her.
When it seemed as though he'd been gazing at her for minutes, she laughed. "I missed you, too."
Merlin felt himself almost grin. "How are you…" he gestured to her very seemingly alive body.
Freya looked down at herself, extended one of her wet arms and flexed her fingers. "I'm still not sure, to be honest," she said. "I have a few ideas though…that's not why you've come here, though."
Merlin twitched involuntarily. "No," he admitted, looking down, feeling himself darken again. "I had to know about Gwaine."
Her eyes sparkled. "He made it back safely, then?" she sounded glad and a little relieved.
The warmth in Merlin's chest at the thought of Gwaine was fighting to take over the hollow, the hollow left by the thought of a golden prince, a shining king, his best friend. "He did," without meaning to, he placed the emphasis on "he." Freya's face changed.
"Merlin…There was no way I could have saved Arthur."
"Why not?" he tried not to snap, tried not to sound angry, tried not to sound like a broken child…
"You won't like it."
He wasn't surprised, but his throat felt suddenly constricted anyway. "I need to know."
She held his gaze in a way that denied him the right to look away. "I could save Gwaine because, first, when your friend Percival thought he was dead, he was actually just stilled."
"What?"
"Morgana," Freya said, as though this were the simplest of answers. "She left Gwaine with a Nathair still inside him. It blocked his lungs, and a minute more without air would have been enough to kill him."
Merlin blinked, trying to process this information.
"I could also Gwaine," Freya continued when he said nothing, keeping her eyes down this time "…because, unlike Arthur, I knew how to find him."
Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "Why would you—"
Freya interrupted him, "Merlin," she seemed close to nervous for the first time, "Did Gwaine tell you he's met me before?"
"He did," said Merlin stoically.
"Don't look at me like that, Merlin," her eyes darkened. "You wouldn't tell any of them how much you needed help, so I tried to tell them for you. I called out to Gwaine once in a dream and he responded. From then on, I could see him. I could track him from this lake no matter where he was. I could watch over him watching over you."
For a moment, Merlin felt removed from his own life. He never suspected…well, he knew Gwaine cared about him, but to accept Freya…to trust a magic girl from a dream for Merlin's sake…all this time, I assumed the only secrets in the castle were the ones I was keeping.
"I tried—" she halted, then began again, "I tried calling out to Arthur in his dreams too. Twice." Her voice was quiet now, as if she knew how hearing that name would cause Merlin's soul to sink from his skin, as if she wanted him to hear as little of this as possible… "He wouldn't listen, Merlin. He could tell it was magic and didn't trust me, he refused to answer."
Merlin met her gorgeous eyes for just one moment before turning away from them, "No," he said through clenched teeth.
"After that, he was guarded from me," she went on. "I couldn't find him, I couldn't save him," he couldn't look away from her any longer—he met her eyes and they were too wide, frank, and sorry for him to handle, "I tried," Freya finished softly. "I love you, so I tried."
I wish I was a ghost like her. I wish I could be so calm, then this wouldn't hurt so much.
I don't want to know it was his fault, too.
"Thank you for saving Gwaine," was all Merlin could say. Where the words came from, he didn't care. He should have been too empty to have any left.
"Merlin." He blinked. He hadn't noticed the scenery moving in front of him. He didn't remember turning around and walking away.
"What?" he called back.
"You can't leave now," Freya's voice sounded louder.
"Why not?"
"You know Kilgarrah's dying."
Dimly, Merlin recognized the peculiarity of this statement. Then again, "Everyone I know seems to be doing that." He was still looking absently at the ground, still with his back to her.
"Merlin," she sounded taut now, pulled by anger and worry, ready for something bad. He didn't have it in him to wonder what. "Aithusa's in danger."
That was so bizarre Merlin finally turned his head to raise a dull eyebrow at her. "Why?"
"Everything's about to change, you'll feel it soon," there was an intensity in Freya's face he had never seen before. She learned so much in that lake. I wonder if he will too. "Arthur's death started something, Merlin," she spoke fast now, her eyes were pleading and rushing with magic. Then, as she grabbed at the shore with her fingertips, Merlin saw the still, unnatural water ringed tightly around her wrists, those are her chains. "Camelot's going to need you," pleading, she's another person I failed, "Soon you'll all be hit with the consequences—"
He felt snapped back, as if out of a spell. "Consequences of Arthur dying?" from his hollow chest came a voice so harshly edged he almost didn't recognize it as his own. Freya froze. "You think those consequences could be worse than the one of how I'm feeling right now?" he felt fire in his own eyes, he saw hers widen, he saw her chains lash her body back, away from the shore. He saw her arms pull and tense, he saw her fight the restraints, and then he saw her eyes burn.
Merlin snapped back again. A glance down at his hand revealed it was outstretched and shaking. He looked back up at Freya and saw she was holding her head above deeper water now. The way she was looking at him, still and strong, made him realize it all at once. I did that.
"I'll be here if you need me, Merlin," was all she said.
He nodded, too shocked to speak, and walked away. Her eyes were there, piercing through him, until he past the trees. When he finally couldn't feel them anymore, however, he felt fantastically empty again.
We're getting into actual plot now. Anyway, tell me what you think, you guys!