Ohh, I so wanted to end this story on 15 chapters. This is technically the second half of the last chapter, but, can't be helped. I'd like to say a quick thank you to all those who had read, reviewed, subscribed or even just put up with my ridiculous neglect of tenses. I've learnt a lot writing this (I finally cracked transitional chapters, did you see my efforts in the last one? Long paragraphs of little detail, i'm so proud :D) and I hope my writing hasn't gone downhill (oh don't be ridiculous, I know it has. It happens to everyone, they get too distracted by the plot.) I would announce I'm planning to give up fanfiction after I finish, as I was originally planning to (I get too hooked on websites like this. This should be for catharsis, not necessity.) but I don't think i'm going to succeed.
Anyway, on with the chapter.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Goodbye
He's dreaming again. Flashes of scenes, moments he can't quite place. His fingers tighten around a token, something he knows is of great importance. It reminds him of something, someone. It smells vaguely of flowers. She smells vaguely of flowers. Then it's gone and he's watching her. She sits in a field, the grass tickling her bare feet. He lavishes the soft sun highlighting her face, making her glow. She stands and she's in a wedding dress, a look of pride on her face, pride mingled with fear. He takes her hand and she's his queen. She's always been his Queen. It doesn't get much better than this, he knows. He knows because there are children, his children, and his father is smiling. The old king smiles. He longs for that pride. He longs for his Queen.
"Arthur." She says. "Arthur!"
There was a flash of light and he woke, bolting forward from his lying position. The dream died before his eyes. He registered he was in his bed. Someone had removed his shoes and the sky was darkening fast outside. It's much later in the evening.
As it turned out, there was a voice calling him. He turns to her, confusion flooding through his mind.
"Who -" he gasped, wondering why his throat was dry. "Who are you?"
She smiled, a gentle, loving smile. "Guinevere. I am Guinevere."
He frowned. "Where's Merlin?"
She looked confused, but humours him. "He's in the antechamber with Gaius. We've been waiting for you to wake."
He rubbed his forehead. The headache was still there. Faint, but nonetheless present. "It didn't work." He voiced, a flush of anger running through him. "I've still got a headache."
Guinevere frowned. "Do you remember me?"
He blinked. "Should I? He can smell flowers. She doesn't respond, her little mouth open in shock. He smirks, taking it as a 'yes' "Really? You're just a maid."
She stared back at him. "Just… a maid?" She whispered.
His face quirked with hidden laughter. "More importantly, do you remember me?"
She flushed. "You are the Crowned Prince, sire. I know that."
He smirked again. "Right you are. So is there a particular reason why I should remember 'just a maid'?"
She looked confused, so confused. "No, I suppose there isn't." the words are mechanical, almost as if it's only occurring to her as she says it.
"Guinevere." He smiles gently as a flash of hope crosses her face. "It's okay. I am, just a prince." He makes a move to put a hand on her arm but she moves away, collecting herself to leave. When she stands, her expression is set.
"Of course, my lord. My mistake. I won't be so foolish again." She curtsied, not daring to look at him. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." And for a moment, her eyes sought his, seeking any reversal. When none came, she tore away and ran out of the room.
Arthur blinked, caught out. As it seemed, the feeling that something is missing hadn't gone away either. "MERLIN!" He barked. "GET OUT HERE!"
~o~
It was many hours later, and Gaius was sat in his chambers. The old physician felt exhausted. It had been a long night, and it wasn't even over yet. He was opening another book at the index when he heard the door open.
He looked up as Merlin entered alone. "You couldn't find her?" The boy shook his head and the candle light played games over his features, animating the deathly pale skin.
"No," He managed, leaning on the door of the physician's chambers. "I've asked all over. No-one knows where she is."
Gaius grimaced. "She'll turn up. It's getting late now; she might just have lost track of time."
Merlin wiped his face with one hand, accentuating the bags underneath his eyes. "At least Arthur's asleep now, oblivious as always." He moved over to collapse into the seat opposite Gaius. "What do we do now?"
Gaius gave a put upon sigh. "We wait, and we read." He pushed a stack of books across the table. "There are other cures."
Merlin leant back into his chair, away from the books. "It's got worse. Arthur had a headache all afternoon, he doesn't remember anything. Maybe we've used our only chance."
"We can't just give in." Gaius pressed. "We still have options. You haven't even researched the spell yet. Come on, for both their sakes."
Merlin sighed. "I'm just thinking that maybe Gwen was right, maybe it's for the best that they stop now rather than be hurt later…"
"Oh snap out of it Merlin." Gaius slammed his hands down on the book in front of him, glaring angrily. "You and I both know they were made for each other. There will be hurt and pain, but they will pull through. If they can't have faith in themselves, it's up to us to have faith in them." The elderly physician glared at the boy. "Those two may cause each other a lot of trouble in the long run, but it'll be worth it. They're in love. That's how it works."
Merlin opened his mouth as if to respond, but thought better of it.
Gaius sighed. "You research the spell and magical properties; I'll cover the conventional means." Merlin had the sense to pull a book towards him.
His mentor turned his attention back to his book, and read a passage or two but he could see Merlin out of the corner of his eye. His charge hadn't even opened the book, but was playing with the ragged corner of it. Merlin looked suitably vacant, his mind whirring.
"Wait a minute." He leapt forward, clutching at air even though his mentor wasn't going anywhere. "Lacunar Amoray is a specific love alteration spell. We cast off the idea of true love's kiss because we didn't know what the motives were behind the spell."
"And now we do." Gaius half-asked.
"The motives were specifically love based – to get rid of the one he loves - so it might just work…" Merlin shot upwards. "We've got to find Gwen."
~o~
The stone corridor was one of the lovely balcony-like ones, graced with large, glassless windows that overlooked the courtyard and lit by a smattering of wall brackets and their distorted halos of light.
A maid, dusky with a mass of sooty curls, was propped in the frame of one of the openings, regal in every way but her blood. She didn't stay for long, she merely distracted herself by letting her eyes trace the stone work in such a manner it was almost committed to memory. She followed the line of the horizon once more before pushing away from the window and setting off on some unspecified path.
It wasn't much of a surprise that she reached the prince's door. Everything happens for a reason, her mind bitterly remarked, while her mouth seamlessly lied to the guards posted outside. They nodded, and let her in.
The room was haunted with a musty kind of darkness, hardly penetrated by the feeble light of a single candle stub burning to the base. In the centre, the crown prince was splayed over his bed, heavily asleep. Gwen suspected if it weren't for the potion he would have woken by now, his training and instincts kicking in.
But no, the golden prince did not wake. And Guinevere wasn't about to wake him either. She pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat down, reminded all too strongly of the times she had previously sat at his bedside and had feared for his life. She checked the temperature of his forehead, almost out of habit.
"Arthur?" She tested, hand still in place. "Arthur?" No response. "I need you, Arthur. I need you to remember me." Her fingers trembled, and she snapped her hand away as if electrocuted. She sighed heavily and stared at her hand in her lap. "I can't hold up this relationship for the both of us. I need your help, your reassurance. I need you to tell me that things will be different one day."
He doesn't react, she didn't expect him to. Still, she consulted the body. "Why does it feel like I should be saying good bye? Is this really the end?"
"I'm a fool, Arthur." She confided, "A fool for thinking we were stronger than that. A fool for believing you when you said things could be different." She shook her head and tears finally fell as she gripped the side of the bed.
"Well, Arthur, what am I supposed to do now?" She choked on the tears which were coming thick and fast now. "Am supposed to watch your life play out? To cater at your wedding, to nurse your heirs?"
She looked away, disgusted at the thought. "No matter what I do, I'll always be the foolish maid who once believed you could love her. I don't deserve that. You know I don't."
She realised she had, indeed, given up all hope. "I tried, Arthur, but this is too much of a weight for me to bear alone." And she stood, the room lit in such a way she was a mere outline, a faceless shadow.
"Good bye, Arthur Pendragon." She pressed her lips to his, and then fled the room.
Perhaps if she had delayed herself a few moments longer, she would have heard his confused, sleep-laced voice murmur "Guinevere?"
