Percival got them to Camelot by nightfall the next day. They did not stop, and they rode as hard as they could manage with Gwaine cradled against Percival's body on the one horse. The way was easier now that they didn't have to hide, but the world was in turmoil at the loss of leaders on either side. The travelers spoke to no one, and let no one see them. The knights' two cloaks became swaddling to wrap the poisoned Gwaine in. They traded horses at a small town, Merlin paying them in cash so no one knew they were the King's men.

Gwen was waiting for them as soon as they rode through the gates. There was no telling what she suspected about the body in Percival's arms—but anyway it was not the King, dead or alive, and as Percival took Gwaine straight to Gaius he left Merlin to speak to the Queen.

Merlin had already known that the first person he would have to speak to when they arrived home was Gwen. She deserved to know that Arthur wasn't coming back, and someday Merlin would probably tell her what had happened, but he didn't think he could tell anyone right now. Not Gaius, or Leon, or even Gwen. So, instead, he walked up to the Queen, who was looking in confusion after Percival. When she turned to look at him, she knew. He could tell she knew, because she went pale and shook her head only once.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," Merlin said, standing with his hands in fists at his side, not sure whether Gwen would appreciate sympathy or simply blame him for not bringing her husband home. He flinched when she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, then realized she was hugging him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "'M sorry," he said again. They stood there for several minutes, weeping in silence, before Gwen straightened and squared her shoulders, pulling herself back together.

"Was he...?" she started, but didn't finish her question.

"He wasn't alone. I don't—I don't think he was in much pain. I'm sorry," Merlin said again, and Gwen put her hands on his shoulders. She was still crying, but there was no one to see except Merlin. The courtyard had become surprisingly quiet, leaving the king's wife and his best friend mercifully unbothered.

"Merlin, this is not your fault." He wished he believed that, but he didn't say anything, and Gwen continued. "Thank you. I must go tell Leon and the others, they have been waiting for news. Go see Gaius, he's been worried about you. We've all been worried about you," she said, and gave him one more hug. Then she let go, and went back into the castle. Merlin stood there in the absolute emptiness of the courtyard and strongly considered, duty of telling the queen done, leaving Camelot. He did not want to be here, where everything was a memory. And then he sighed, because if Gwen could pull herself together, he could probably manage, and there was still Gwaine to look after.

Once he was sure everyone was okay, he could leave.

In the apothecary it was dark and musty, and Gaius was mixing medicines. "Gaius," Percival said as he pushed in the door, and his voice was hoarse: it was the first word he had spoken all day, and after all night singing, it was really no wonder.

Gaius looked up and, seeing the figure in Percival's arms, leapt to action. "Put him on the bed. What happened?"

"Morgana—the Nathair—she tortured him," Percival managed as he laid Gwaine out on the sickbed.

Gaius made a quiet examination of his patient, before he had to ask: "And the King?"

Percival was so numb the words didn't seem to matter anymore, even as tears he did not know he still had left to shed poured down his face. "The King is dead."

There was a long, tense pause, but Gaius recovered quickly, the task at hand needing his full attention.

"Merlin's here," Percival said, because he supposed Gaius would like to know. "He's with the Queen. What can I do?"

"Get yourself a drink of water, your voice is painful to listen to," Gaius ordered, not looking at him. He immediately found the source of Gwaine's ailment in the bitemarks on his neck. He was trained in not reacting obviously to obviously mortal injuries, but this did not look good. He went to his table to begin mixing a few antitoxins that he suspected would be wholly inadequate for the job. Of course he remembered when Elyan had been afflicted with the same problem: Elyan had been bitten just enough for the information Morgana had wanted then, and even he had been close to catatonic for days. Morgana had clearly tortured Gwaine for information, yes, but then she went and tortured him to death. He was frankly surprised Gwaine had not died outright. "Sir Percival I'll need you to stoke up the fire and put a few more blankets on him. Any way we can leach the poison from his system will help."

Just as Percival set to work, the door burst open, and Sir Leon appeared.

"Sir Percival," he said, and his eyes flickered worriedly to Gwaine. "How is he?"

Percival shrugged bitterly.

Leon hardened his jaw and straightened. "May I speak to you outside?"

Percival glowered up at him, and looked about to refuse, but with a quick glance at Gwaine sleeping soundly and safe under Gaius' care, he nodded and followed Leon outside.

"What did you do?" Leon hissed as soon as they were outside, and Percival realized suddenly that he was angry. "Was this Gwaine's idea? Sir Percival, a national crisis is not the time to be hunting down personal vendettas! What happened?"

Percival was instantly livid, leaping to the defense of his friend since Gwaine couldn't defend himself (although Percival suspected that Gwaine wouldn't do so right now, even if he were capable). "Would you have rather I let him go on his own?" he would have bellowed back, if not for the raw state of his voice.

"You were needed here!"

"And Gwaine needed me with him!"

Leon sighed. "All right," he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "I just was—" it didn't matter what he was, though, and Percival's antagonism only made him regret his outburst. They were all under a lot of strain, nerves were running high, and apparently he was not himself immune. And although Gwaine and Percival's actions had hardly been protocol, now was not the time to be waving the Knight's Code in people's faces. "I'm sorry. We needed you here, is all. We've lost enough as it is, I can't have you—"

"Gwaine was lost before he rode out of Camelot. And we may yet lose what is left of him if you do not let me go back in there," Percival said, sizing Leon up as the man stood between him and the door. "I need to be with him."

Leon did not recognize the eyes of the man who stood before him: they were bleak and desperate. Was Sir Percival so lost, too? "Sir Percival," he started, more compassionately, but Percival drew away, his shoulders shaking, unable to accept comfort right now, when he needed to be strong.

"Sir Leon," Merlin, who rounded the corner to see the two knights in an altercation, offered: "You might also have lost me if Percival and Gwaine had not ridden out and found me, after—after—" he paused, took a breath, found his voice again: "Sir Leon, Arthur is—" he stuttered. "The king is dead."

Leon turned a pale shade of green, but to his credit, he did not lose control. "I should—the Queen—" he stammered.

Merlin and Percival stood by, heads bowed.

Leon rallied and clasped Percival by the shoulder. "Percival, please. Do not make me lose you, as well. There are too few of us."

Percival held his gaze for a long moment, but did not reply before he pushed past him back into the apothecary.

...

AN: Apologies for the shortness of the post and the length of time it took me to get this posted. I'm currently working on a few other Merlin fics as well as just starting a new semester, so I do what I can. Thanks in advance for your patience, and thanks for reading. We'll see how Gwaine is doing in the next chapter.