Disclaimer: Merlin's not mine. Unbetaed.

The Afterfall

The night was so thick with clouds it was impossible for Gwaine to make out a single star. This extra darkness also made spying on the guards unknowingly guarding Aithusa very difficult. He sat on one of the higher hills just past the lower town with a view of the stables if he angled to his right. Personal experience sneaking out to the taverns late on a night before Arthur's early-morning training sessions had made Gwaine aware of the absolute incompetence of all Camelot guards and there was no bloody way he trusted them to stay at their posts without supervision.

If he got no sleep tonight that would be fine.

"You all right out here?"

Gwaine had been narrowing his eyes at the idiot soldiers and hadn't heard any footsteps approaching him from the lower town. He turned around, dimly surprised to see Leon climbing the hill.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Gwaine raised an apprehensive eyebrow.

Leon twisted his jaw and shrugged. Gwaine couldn't decide if he looked ridiculously uncomfortable, seething with anger, or both. "Just got sick of pacing around my room, is all. Thought you might want someone out here with you, just in case."

Take that back, it's definitely both. "You afraid Merlin's gonna kill Gwen and come back as an angry old man with a shiny evil magic stick?" the jab slid out Gwaine's mouth without any effort on his part to stop it.

Leon twitched, said nothing, and sat down. Huh.

The two of them stared out at the hills and forests of Camelot, kept safe by Arthur's decision to move the battle to Camlann. It was easier to stare at them in the dark. They'd be blindingly healthy in the daylight, but the night made them seem blackened, as if Arthur had never made that decision and was still alive because of it.

When the guards didn't do anything interesting for a good ten minutes, Leon broke the silence. "I can't help caring about her," his voice was quiet.

It was Gwaine's turn to shrug. "Neither can I, but I also can't help believing in him."

Leon opened his mouth as if to say more but closed it when nothing came out.

There used to be nothing important to talk about and we couldn't shut ourselves up. Now there's too much to talk about and we can't say anything, Gwaine thought, unprepared for the next thing that flitted across his mind—I want to go home.

Before he could even begin guess which home that meant, the rapid tumble of cracking branches and a scream of "Someone! Please help me!" jolted through the air and his bones.

Merlin's legs carried him so fast he seemed to be running or even gliding and Guinevere's chest was on fire trying to keep up. She too, though, felt wrong. Not as though she were hardly there at all but as if she were too present. Every leaf they passed and every peeking star and every blade of grass she crunched under her shoe—it was as if she could remember it all and knew their shapes and night darkened colors so intimately in the brief second before they were gone from her grasp. She wondered if maybe that was magic, what magic is. The inability to stop noticing, stop noticing the earth, stop noticing your spinning heart—

Where are you going? She almost called to Merlin in front of her but something about the black night and its softened echoes made her shut her mouth.

Neither of them had spoken a word.

Not after Kilgarrah's uneven wings left them behind while he limped in the sky.

She couldn't tell which emotions were rolling off of Merlin in waves but she could feel their strength hit her with full force every time she got too close to his back.

"Stop," she said, but Merlin kept walking. "Where are you going?"

He only shook his head and she was left in his wake. Then they reached the lowest dip before the tallest hill. She saw Camelot peer out from the top and all at once she remembered where they were. Morgana, you brought me here, it was one of the hidden entrances into the castle.

They nearly slid down the hill, it was so steep, and landed in front of a drainage grate. A tiny glow lit the dark for a second and the grate crashed open, ringing horribly through the tunnel it guarded. The tunnel was the one thing Gwen could hardly remember about the walk once they made it to the other side, went up through the dungeons, were suddenly in the middle of the empty black throne room. Finally Gwen watched as Merlin slammed the deafening door shut and spun around, head in his white hands, eyes jittering at his feet carrying him too fast across the floor.

"It's my destiny." Those were his first words, edged in that high, unstable laugh, "That's what I told him," Merlin went on, his eyes darting to Gwen's for the tiniest of seconds before zooming again around the world, "—that's one of the last things I said to Arthur. Arthur, he could barely look at me, I'd just shown him what, I was—he was dying, I had to—and he hated it. He asked me why, and I told him what that bloody dragon always said to me, I needed to look after Arthur, 'it's my destiny.' Hah—" he stopped spinning and clutched at his knees with his hands, "What does that mean now?"

Gwen could see his eyes blazing into the ground, wider and more desperate than ever before—

"…he's dead, Arthur's dead, I need him, I'm no one without him, he's dead..." every breath grew shallower and shallower until he didn't seem capable of standing anymore. His body trembled with all the power of thunder and all the crumpled smallness of a boy under the whole world's weight.

And Guinevere stared at him.

"No."

Merlin's gleaming wet eyes, their blue shifting from sea gray to icy pale and back again, lifted to Gwen. "What?" he finally breathed.

"No," she said again. "Get up."

He didn't move but to blink.

"I don't care if you were in love with him, Merlin," Gwen said, and it felt as if those words had been in her mouth all along. "He was my husband, and I am not on the ground. Stand."

A dulled shock flicked across Merlin's face, like another shadow, and his jaw opened as if to remind himself to breathe again.

"You said you were nothing without him," Gwen realized her volume was rising and that burning in her chest, it almost hurt but made her feel so solid, "You don't have the right to say that. You haven't earned it. You're still here."

That unnatural laugh again, choked with wetness this time, echoed from Merlin again. "You think so, do you?" his eyes bore into her.

"You've saved our lives so many times," she said, nothing could stop the words from coming out now, "—and you've put them in danger over and over again too. I know you have, you've done all of it. Arthur wasn't the only reason you did all of those things. He can't have been."

Merlin hardly blinked. "And when did you become so certain of anything, Guinevere?" Those eyes were mocking her, they had almost nothing behind them, he never calls me that.

"No," she said, for the third time, and charged forward to close her shaking fist around the collar of his shirt. "Don't you dare become a ghost on me!" She might have been screaming but all she remembered was how his mouth dropped and no power in her heart ever mattered so much, she tried to lower her voice and felt that effort quiver her every limb, "You can't, Merlin," she rasped. "You can't. Not when I need you."

His eyes were splintered with rage and hurt now. With every blink more of their color fell and the sounds escaping his throat changed the air. "I don't want to be needed anymore," his voice broke.

Slam.

"Gwen! Merlin!" It was Gwaine who burst in through the heavy door. Every reply Guinevere had ready for Merlin halted on her tongue as she realized Gwaine was sweating as if he had been running for hours trying to find them.

Remembering to let go of Merlin's collar and dragging her mind away from all that had just been said, she straightened her back. "What's wrong?" her hard eyes met Gwaine's.

He looked from Gwen to Merlin, still on the floor, and back again. "A woman," he panted, "—there's a druid woman here. She's hurt, looks like she got away from a whole army, and she said she's here to see Emrys," Gwaine's gaze drifted to Merlin. "I heard Morgana call the old man that," and for a moment he sounded oddly timid, "…so I figured she means you."

That strangled sound came from Merlin again as he nodded, eyes away from both of them. "She means me."

Gwaine blinked. "Then why are we still here? Let's go." Without a word he ran right back out of the throne room.

Guinevere didn't spare Merlin a glance as she strode after Gwaine. "Come on," she called.

It would be a lie to say she didn't let out the tiniest relieved breath when she finally heard footsteps following behind her.

The woman's name was Maro and she did look as though she'd escaped an army. Dozens of red slivers on her face made it seem as though she'd been running through thorned branches for days and both her arm and stomach were gashed horribly. Her arm bore the worst cut, stretching from her elbow across her forearm to slice the druid tattoo on her hand in half. Gaius was dressing it when they arrived to his chambers, and Percival and Leon stood behind him

"Majesty," she managed upon seeing Gwen. "Emrys," her exhausted eyes flickered with the slightest bit of life as Merlin entered the room.

Merlin, still paler than ever, frowned. "You're from Iseldir's clan."

Maro winced and nodded, although the name meant nothing to Guinevere. Percival and Gwaine showed no recognition either, but a glance at Leon set her aback. Leon's eyes widened and he looked momentarily horrified.

"I was with a hunting party when the soldiers cornered us," she breathed, "—and they threatened to kill one of my pupils with me if we didn't lead them back to Iseldir." Gwen shot her gaze to Leon again, who grew flushed with everything from anger to shame at the second mention.

"Did you see what crests the soldiers wore?" Gwaine asked.

Her mouth twisted. "Yes, and there were four different ones."

Guinevere snapped to Maro's attention. "Say that again," she demanded slowly, hoping desperately she heard wrong.

"I counted," Maro responded. "There were twenty of men, five to each of four different banners—Mercia, Essetir, Alined, and Amata."

Kilgarrah's broken wing flashed unbidden before Gwen's mind.

"What happened when you lead them to your people?" Leon asked in a softer, more hesitant voice than Gwen had heard him use in days.

"Some were startled and killed," Maro looked away from all of them—Gwen couldn't see her face but she sounded more wooden than anyone so injured ever should, "Iseldir managed to stop them and hold them off long enough for the rest of us to run. He's my brother in law. He trusts me and I thought he'd need me, so I hid behind a hill while the attackers spoke to him."

"What did they want?" Gaius asked, almost in a hush.

"Information…I…" a high-pitched noise, and through her hair they could see her crying, "—I think they still have him…" Percival put his hand on her shoulder and she seemed to grab it without thinking. Gwen could see her nails digging into his skin. "My husband, I don't know if he got away either, he's Iseldir's younger brother and he's never had the same power…Iseldir knew I was still there and he told me to run." She made herself inhale before lifting her reddened eyes, which stared straight at Merlin. "Told me to find Emrys," her voice quivered. "To find you."

For a moment, Merlin's mouth opened and no sound left. Gwen could almost see the answers forming on his lips, Don't, Please, I can't—but not one of them left.

Gwaine was the next to speak. "What kind of information?"

Maro shook her head furiously. "All I heard them say was about one of Alined's seers letting slip something having to do with a dragon. A white dragon. They wanted to know about a white dragon."

The whole room stilled.

"And…they'll torture him for it?" Leon finally managed.

Maro was shivering now and she couldn't seem to make her eyes focus. Gaius snapped his hand and Gwen led them all from the room without another glance at the Druid woman. She couldn't.

"Do you trust this Iseldir, Merlin?" she asked of the floor the moment the Gaius's chambers were shut.

"Yes," she heard him answer faintly.

Gwaine's voice, "I'm assuming we're trusting her."

"Yes," Gwen replied this time, thinking again of Kilgarrah and those enormous golden eyes.

"…then what do we do?" Percival.

A quiet inhale, then Gwen lifted her head. "All of you get some rest. Be ready to travel discreetly—no armor, no badges—at dawn." They all began to walk away. All except for "Merlin." She finally brought herself to meet his eyes.

"I…" he stammered. Those eyes were flooded again, not with water, but everything else. A fury seeped over Gwen and lashed up through her hand as she shot it at his chest. One shove and his back crashed against the wall, right next to his own home's door, staring at Gwen's face as if he couldn't recognize it. No, she thought. I wouldn't either. I don't care.

"You don't want to be needed anymore? And you think I do?" Guinevere hissed. The moon turned through the window and she caught that flash of her own reflection in his eyes. "Arthur is gone. You built this kingdom without his or anyone's permission and so help me you will defend it now."

"Don't make me go," he barely whispered, sending ice down Gwen's spine. "Don't make me see someone else who's been hurt because they believed in me."

Gwen almost stopped, felt something warm in her eyes, then tightened her grip. "Not just you. Four kingdoms, Merlin. That never happens. Four kingdoms all united and want Aithusa dead—they will come straight to our door with armies to spare. You'll help me keep it not because of some bloody dragon-given destiny but out of responsibility. To him. To them. To this kingdom and yourself."

The words rang through the hall.

The next sound they heard was a creeeak as Gaius opened the door. "She's asleep," he said quietly, looking between the two of them.

Gwen released Merlin from her hold and he dropped his heels to the floor, still looking down but something, something, seemed different. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out what it was.

"I can't stay here," he suddenly said, meeting Gaius's stare. "I can't stay in the castle tonight. I don't think I can bear it."

His voice was clear as it used to be and his shoulders, his shoulders don't look so hard, he's standing like he did before… "My old house in the lower town is empty," Gwen was dimly shocked to hear herself say. "Should be a key under the empty flower pot by the door."

"Thank you," Merlin's eyes flickered to hers for a brief second.

Guinevere waited.

"I'll be here tomorrow," he said, and it didn't sound like a lie.

A chapter of Sometimes I Dream About You focuses on Leon and relates to his part in this chapter if you want to read it. Thanks for sticking with me, you guys. I've been wanting to write this chapter since I started this story. Hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it and hope you review.