Phew, finally I've been able to update again! I'm sorry it took me so long... ;)
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Merlin couldn't stay in the room. Everything reminded him at Gaius. The structure in the mess, the old and dusty books, filled with wisdom, the smell of parchment. Gaius had done as much as he could so Merlin would've been prepared, but he wasn't.
The last few days were passed as a terrible nightmare, and Merlin didn't wake up; he didn't shed tears, nor did he speak words of sadness. In fact, he didn't say anything at all.
After the funeral, Arthur had put his strong hand on Merlin's shoulder and had told him he could take as many time of as he wants, and he could always count on him. That emphatic behaviour from the king had surprised Merlin, but at the same time, it had cheered him up a little bit, until he stood back in the chambers of the court physician who had been his father, grandfather, teacher and friend.
The last thing Gaius had told him, before he died, was that Merlins task didn't end because Arthur didn't need much protection at the moment. There would always be people, friend or foe, to make an assault on the king, and Merlin always had to be on his guard.
But he couldn't. Everything inside of him told him he couldn't. The memory of Gaius, lying in his bed as he was sleeping, but not waking up, yelled at him he couldn't.
Suddenly, Merlin turned eighteen again, and he was sitting on his bed, bothering about the fact Arthur had humiliated him (now, that seemed to happen daily and he wondered how he could ever have thought it was horrible, as it was a part of their friendship) and because Gaius what angry at him because he -Merlin- had practised Magic secretly, to teach Arthur a lesson.
"I'm not a monster, am I?" Merlin had asked. He'd tried to sound casual, and almost joking, but deep inside, he felt bloody serious.
Gaius had raised his eyebrow, as if he was wondering how Merlin even dared to consider something like that.
"You may never think so."
Merlin had never, ever thought of it again, until he stood in his headquarters and the walls seemed to be heading towards him. He knew he couldn't stay.
He ran outside. His thoughts were whirling. Why did Gaius have to die? There were so many things he still had to teach him, Merlin couldn't do it alone.
He was tired of it. He didn't want to keep his Magic secret any more, he wanted to go to Arthurs chambers and scream to him he -Merlin- was a wizard and it was his destiny to protect the king.
He marched through the corridors, were the servants didn't look strangely at him, as he was a known face, to the chambers of the king. Without knocking, he opened the door swiftly.
Arthur, who already had been lying in his bed, sleeping, sat straight immediately, as if he was expecting to see an enemy standing in front of him.
"I-," Merlin would tell him, he was sure of it, "I..."
"C'mon, Merlin. I'd promised you could tell me everything", Arthur said, and his voice sounded friendlier than it had ever done before.
"I've got to make off for a while," Merlin spoke than, "I'm going back to Ealdor, and will return after a couple of weeks."
He didn't know why he said that instead of the confession he had been about to make, which was the true reason he stood there in the chambers of the king. He simply couldn't do it, like so many things. It was just as the night he had been in Morgana's room, and close to tell his greatest secret to her, but he hadn't been able to do so. The thought he could only share his secret with Gaius, made a little voice in his head whisper that no-one should know.
But now he had already said it. Arthur had nodded, had wished Merlin a fine journey and had let him go. Once outside, Merlin collapsed against the wall, desperate. Why was everything so hard?
"Merlin," spoke a gentle voice, unexpectedly, "Merlin, are you all right?" Gwen's warm, brown eyes looked down at him, worried. Merlin suspected she was heading to Arthurs room, but that wasn't his business, so he didn't ask her either.
"Yes, I'm fine", he lied. He stood straight en tried to smile at her, but he knew she knew it wasn't genuine. All of a sudden, the thought could tell her about the fact he was a sorcerer, crossed his mind, but he banned that idea quite fast. Gwen had lost her father due Magic, and had to stand by when it consumed her best friend, until her mistress had become a merciless witch. She was probably the last person who would trust him if he told her he was a Magician, en he understood her completely.
"I am so sorry about Gaius", Gwen spoke with a sad voice. He knew she meant it. She hadn't been able to hide her tears during the funeral, and Gaius had been some sort of grandfather to her, like he had been for everyone.
"Yes", Merlin answered. He didn't know what else he could say. Gwen understood and she hugged him tightly, and that comforted Merlin more than all the nice words Arthur had said to him (not that he would've felt comfortable when Arthur would embrace him). "I'm going to Ealdor," he spoke, when she let go of him, "I need some time to think." Gwen nodded slowly, with tears in her eyes.
"Come back soon, Merlin", she begged.
"I will", Merlin promised.
In the end, he felt relieved he hadn't confessed his secret to Arthur in a hurry. His decision to go to Ealdor, or just to be away from Camelot, was one of the best he'd taken the past few days.
That night, he made his backpack. He only putted in the most necessary, like some food, a water bottle, a blanket (as he couldn't trust the weather in November) and the book of spells Gaius had given him five years back. Although he already knew it by heart, it gave him a good feeling to have something touchable that would always remind him of Gaius. Than he would never forget him, not that he intended to.
Without looking back, Merlin leaved. He walked out of the castle, with his head raised, and his backpack hanging on his straight shoulders. It felt good to have a goal again, and he was sure Ealdor would give him the peace and rest he needed so badly. There, he would find time to think about how exactly he was going to tell Arthur he had Magic, because he had made up his mind.
Arthur wasn't only a rightful king, he was also his best friend. He would find it hard at first, but he would understand in the end -at least, that was what Merlin hoped. Gaius would've wanted it like that, and so did he -Merlin- as well. Maybe than Arthur would finally come to realise Magic didn't have to be evil just because it was Magic.
That would be a dream that comes true.
It was a cold night, but at least it wasn't freezing any more. Before Merlin was aware of it, he had left the city, and was now walking on the country side. The journey to Ealdor took three days and wasn't without risks, but Merlin didn't matter. He was happy he was out of the castle.
Now his sadness wasn't overwhelming him any more, but had taken place for determination, it became much easier to let the exhaustion possess him. After a couple of hours, he felt how his eyelids became heavy.
He decided some sleep wouldn't be bad, so he sat down on the soft ground, took out his blanket and ensconced in it, after he'd murmured 'forbearnán' and some branches, that had been lying close to him, became a cosy camp fire. Merlin smiled melancholy. The dancing flames whispered to him Magic was beautiful, but only for the ones who wanted to see it.
With that thought, he fell asleep.
He missed Gaius. He missed his wise voice and his friendly eyes. He missed the times Gaius had stared at him in disbelief, every time Merlin had done something utterly stupid, and he missed the taps he got on his shoulder after he'd saved Arthur after thousand times. He missed their conversations about Magic, which they held without being afraid they would die at the stake.
Merlin threw some flat stones in the river. They sank to the bottom right away. He sighed.
"You've been like a son to him," Morgana told him, with a soft and warm voice, "I'm sure he's proud of you, wherever he is." She putted her hand on his shoulder and he smiled faintly.
Her company and her soothing words couldn't bring Gaius back, but they could give Merlin the strength to go on.
Merlin opened his eyes. He had been dreaming again, again about Morgana.
Just like all of his decisions he'd made that day, he acted fiercely. He stood straight in no time, kicked out the fire with his boots and made his backpack.
All those dreams about his arch-enemy had left him more confused than the death of his oldest friend and the obscurity about his destiny. The time of doing nothing was over, Merlin would call the only creature he knew that could provide him answers.
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