The days that followed dragged slowly for all in Camelot , but for none more so than for its king. Gaius entered the dining hall to find Uther once again sitting with a dazed look on his face, still in a state of deep shock and grief. Gaius looked at the breakfast plate on the table before the king, and saw that it was untouched, and spoke with both the gentle care of a physician and the firm counsel of a friend.

"You must eat, my lord. It's been ten days, and Camelot still needs your rule."

When Uther replied, there was a dullness to his voice. "What hope is there for Camelot now?"

He paused, not looking at Gaius, but just staring into space. "For so many years I watched Arthur grow into the man I'd always hoped he would be. He was blessed, Gaius; blessed with a courage and nobility that meant that Camelot would have prospered and grown even greater under his rule. The people loved him, and he would have had their loyalty in a way that I fear that I never have." And as he continued, the tone in his voice changed to one of bitterness. "How can it be that it has been his fate to have had his light extinguished under the fist of hatred – and with it my hope?"

It was only at this point that Uther finally turned his gaze towards the physician: "I tried to do what was right, Gaius,…"

"I know my lord"

Uther finished his words in a whisper, "… but it has cost me my only son. And I cannot live with that." And with that the dazed look returned to the king's face and he spoke no more.

But there were, needless to say, two others in Camelot whose whole lives had also been shattered on the day that Ygraine's ring was returned to Uther. Gwen had barely been outside her small house in the lower town since it all happened. She knew she was neglecting some of her duties, but she was beyond caring. Thankfully none of those she worked alongside expected her to be there, and probably would have sent her home anyway had she turned up. For the truth was that she couldn't bear to be in the citadel. Every single room she was used to going in, every single corridor, held memories of Arthur for her. There were so many things that had happened there that they had experienced together, so many places where they had shared a stolen kiss or a knowing smile, so many things she saw there to remind her of him.

But even her own home was not free from memories – how could it be? It was there they had shared their first kiss, and there they had shared so many times of talking and laughing together. Ever since Arthur had been open with others about his feelings for her, he had been in the habit, when his duties allowed (and occasionally when they didn't), of stealing down to her house when Camelot's streets were empty at the end of the day. For both of them it was their favourite time of the day, when Arthur could relax and be himself rather than a prince, and where they could express their love for each other more freely. And although there was a bed in the corner of the room, both freely chose to save the full expression of their love until the wedding day that they both longed for. But now Gwen knew that that day would never come. She knew she would have to face life without Arthur, but she didn't feel ready to yet.

She sat, that afternoon, trying to complete some sewing that had to be done on a cloak for one of the young men who was due to be knighted. But even that task was difficult for her, given that it was the golden dragon of the Pendragon crest that had to be embroidered, and she found herself crying once again. Her tears were interrupted however, by a soft knock on the door. Her heart leapt for a moment – it sounded so like the gentle tap that had let her know for so long that it was Arthur who was standing outside the door. But her mind told her a moment later that it couldn't be him. She hurriedly wiped her tears away, tried to compose herself, and when she felt ready called out, "Come in". She had not expected, however, to see the figure of Lancelot in the open doorway. They last time they had seen each other had been in the council chambers when the message from Alvar had been read.

Gwen quickly rose to her feet and spoke with a note of surprise in her voice, "Lancelot."

He bowed his head slightly to her, "My lady."

There was a slight pause before Gwen hurriedly said, "Come in, please" suddenly realising that, in her surprise, she had left him standing in the doorway. Lancelot walked in slowly and hesitantly and closed the door gently behind him. An awkward silence hung between them for a few moments, before Lancelot summoned the courage to speak, and in the end his words came out rushed.

"I do not know whether I do wrong to come here now, but I could not bear to leave it any longer. To see your pain when we heard of Arthur's death tore me apart, and the terrible loss of Arthur has been made immeasurably worse because of the grief that I know it has brought to you, my lady."

Although he didn't say it, Lancelot had been asking Elyan almost daily how Gwen had been. Lancelot paused again before continuing, "But I only say what I am about to say in the hope that it will bring you some shred of comfort." He paused again. "I want you to know, my lady, that you are still loved. I have always loved you and I always will. I vowed that I would not speak of this to you or to any other for as long as Arthur lived. To have spoken of my feelings would have been a terrible betrayal of the man I esteemed higher than any other, and whom I counted - despite his rank and my humble station - as a dear friend. But my feelings for you are unchanged, and you still have my heart."

Gwen looked at Lancelot for a long time without saying a word, and then nodded, trying once again to hold back the tears. When she finally spoke, all that she could manage was a whisper.

"It does bring me comfort. Thank you, Lancelot. I just need time…"

"I understand, my lady."

He bowed once again to her and turned to leave. But as he put his hand on the door handle, he turned to her once again. "If there is anything I can do…"

Gwen nodded, "Thank you, Lancelot." And with he left.

There was, of course, still one other person whose life had been left in total ruin by the news of Arthur's death – Merlin. But, once again, the young sorcerer could not have foreseen the events that were about to unfold.