We were the floods when the fires came
(But she held the torches high for you that day)
The road was long, seemingly never ending, but at least they were headed somewhere at last. It was a start; a spark, that was enough for now. The sun had set fully behind them, the stormy purple subsiding to a deeper, calmer blue speckled with a million stars. Merlin too felt more relaxed, content with watching the open road pass them by, Gwaine sleeping in the backseat and Arthur slumped against the window, eyes closed. Peaceful, Merlin thought with a closed-lipped smile; he wondered how it felt. He had not slept so soundly in centuries. But he had to admit that there was a hidden joy in seeing them this way: so unguarded and vulnerable, trusting in him completely; definitely peaceful, he thought again. There was no better word to describe this feeling than peaceful.
A few hours later, when even the star's light had been quenched by the darkness gripping the night, the Warlock gave in and pulled into a service station, mainly deserted, to sleep for a few hours. It was about 4am, but Merlin knew that if he didn't at least try to rest, it would do him no good in the morning. The car ground to a halt, as steadily as he could manage, and then the hum of the engine died, leaving a silence around them. As the dashboard lights faded, the boy leant back into his seat rest and closed his heavy eyes, content in just sitting there until dawn if sleep would not find him. There were still many miles to go; the hope of old friendship being rekindled just upon the horizon, until Merlin would find some sleep. But that was okay, for the peace of this moment was enough. He just hoped it would last a while longer.
"Merlin?" Arthur spoke quietly, careful not to wake the gently snoring Gwaine, an hour or so later. Slicing the silence like a cold knife, his friend stirred in the seat behind him, but the King knew Merlin had not been sleeping. Arthur had woken when the car had pulled in an hour ago, but decided to wait, seeing if his friend would in fact sleep, before speaking. "Yeah?" came the reply, weary but not annoyed. Arthur sighed, sitting up and shifting to he leaned against the window, the coolness of the pane relieving him slightly, for his head still pounded. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
"Nah," said Merlin, "You?"
"My dreams disturbed me" the King admitted, but kept back the information that the nightmare largely repeated the visions seen that day: of Merlin giving in to dying. "I'm sorry to hear that, sire" Merlin said, concerned.
"You don't have to call me that anymore"
"What?"
"'Sire' or 'my lord'" Arthur said, waving a non-committal hand through the air, "I'm not a King anymore."
"You are my King," Merlin protested, leaning forward to speak to his friend, to reassure him, "there may be a new leader of this land. But Albion? You are the only true leader of that: the once and future king."
"I'm not sure I deserve it."
Merlin laughed softly at this, "Deserve it? Neither you nor I have any say in that: it is who you are – your destiny" he leaned back with a smile.
"Thank you, Merlin." Arthur said, "I sometimes wish that I could see myself through your eyes, for you always saw something in me that I never could." Silence comfortably fell in the car again, before Arthur realized he had been sidetracked from the real reason he had spoken in the first place. "That girl. . ." he started, then paused awkwardly, unsure how to go on, "You and her . . .?"
"Yes" Merlin said, quietly but quickly, "Yes." Arthur nodded.
"Did you love her?" he asked. Merlin opened his mouth to speak, closing it a few times, struggling internally to put his feelings into words. "I still do," he eventually said, a distracted half-smile writing itself over his face as he stopped looking at Arthur; off into mid-distance instead, as if lost in memory. It had been so good to see her today, and Merlin felt privileged to have the chance to – how many people got to see their loved ones once they'd departed? It had hurt, yes, but it was a good kind of hurt. "We were going to run away: get a little place to live, some animals, grow a garden," the Warlock still had that lost smile on his face as he finished, "someplace near a lake."
"I'm sorry" Arthur apologized, and Merlin believed it was genuine.
"You don't need to be," he shrugged, "look at her. She gets to do something important – she's happy."
"And you? Are you happy?"
Merlin smiled hazily at his friend, "I think I'm learning to be."
The boys fell into a restless daze, neither sleeping exactly, but sitting in contemplative thoughts, lost to the world. The sun was rising in the east, merging the night into day, a perfect balance of hope and despair. As it gained height, light flooded the land; hope won out.
(The tree's roots)
"I'm not being rude, but for the world's most powerful sorcerer, this doesn't seem to be a very good 'car'" Gwaine said, head lolled out of the window like a dog as they tore down the motorway, "now that," he nodded at a huge SUV beside them, "Is a thing of beauty – why don't we go in that?"
"This is the best we could get!" Merlin protested, but he had to admit that he secretly loved their little car, however crap it may be, "and anyway, what's wrong with this car?" Both of the other Knights laughed.
"Well – there's nothing wrong with it exactly, but it's just not – good" Gwaine shrugged.
"There's nothing wrong with it!" Merlin yelled, causing more laughter at his expense as he nearly swerved off the road.
"The roof leaks" Arthur laughed, feet up on the dash and looking a lot more relaxed than yesterday.
"It's got character" Merlin said, quieter but irritated. The knights laughed as he pulled a face in the rear view mirror. The Warlock had really grown affectionate of the ancient old red Volkswagen, chipped paint and all. "Oh, shut up" Merlin sighed, giving in to the laughter bubbling up in his chest.
"The cave where we hid out when Morgana took over Camelot?" Arthur asked, as they exited the car, a few hours later after much driving and a repetitive droning of 'Are we there yet?' from Gwaine the entire time. "Are you sure?"
"It was where we first met Percival, remember?" Merlin said in response, grabbing some spare water bottles from the boot. He had pulled in at a corner shop on the way there, gathering any supplies while they had the chance. Fishing out some Nutri-Grain bars for snacks, he shut the boot with a click. "He came with Lancelot" Arthur nodded, remembering that day, "So you think it is him?"
"'The tree of a man'" Gwaine said, holding the envelope containing the hastily written prophecy in front of his face, "who else could it be but Percy?" In agreement, they locked up the car, heading out into yet another forest.
"It's called the forest of Dean now" Merlin told them as they followed a stone path into the trees, having decided to follow the set path until Merlin 'felt' something again. Or at least, that was the plan. "Camelot was near" Arthur said thoughtfully, looking east as if to imagine the great castle in the distance, eyes glazing over. Gwaine pulled a face at Merlin behind Arthur's back, as always, making light of the situation. "So was the tavern" he grinned.
After a while wandering along the path, Arthur growing more and more impatient with every turn, the three knights (a conversation about Merlin's knighthood had took place that morning, just to irritate Arthur) stumbled across the cave, after straying from the path. It looked slightly beaten up, but was still visible under a growth of a giant tree, its roots carved around the entrance, that almost concealed it: if they hadn't known to look for it, they wouldn't have noticed it at all. The cave had been left unexplored for decades now; maybe that was good, for things were stirring inside the cave, waking up into a new age. Arthur and Gwaine started cutting through these bushes and roots with their swords "for goodness sake, put those things away!" Merlin had yelled, glancing around for any pedestrians who could have seen the oddly-dressed, sword-wielding idiots in the forest, but luckily no one was around. The last thing he needed was for some dumb police to arrest them.
Walking confidently into the cave, flanked by Merlin and Gwaine, the King flashed back to the times of before, when the cave, and the men around him, were young. This cave, and what had led from here, had been his making. Arthur was distracted by an almighty yawn from the depths of the darkness ahead, followed by a familiar figure stumbling into a shaft of light. Sir Percival, tall and strong as ever, sent them a confused grin. "Welcome back" was all Arthur could think to say. Percival was most surprised to see his old friend Gwaine, losing his words and instead hugging his friend so hard the smaller knight was lifted off the ground. "Woah there, big fella," Gwaine had laughed, "I'm glad to see you too."
"I thought you were dead" Percival eventually choked out, devastation as fresh as the day his friend died clear.
"Well, I was. But that got boring so I thought I'd come back to haunt you" Gwaine joked, poking Percival playfully and wagging his fingers in the air. The other knight grinned. "But Percy," Gwaine went on, a more sincere smile on his face, "When I died – you were there for me, and I never got to say thank you."
"You don't need to." As the Knights hugged again, Merlin and Arthur shared a knowing look; their own story was similar; so they understood. Clapping Merlin on the back, the King greeted their newly returned friend, who was glad that Arthur too had come back to life. Merlin was content in watching them, for even though he was a knight now, he had never had a place within their group of noble men. But then a noise sounded behind him, and as he whirled around; a shape, moving so fast he had no time to react, knocked him down, pinning him to the floor. He let out a startled cry, as a claw cut into his shoulder, tearing his flesh agonisingly. The sound of swords being unsheathed echoed through the cave; in seconds the beast cried out in pain and released Merlin, who rolled out of its way, clutching his arm. Arthur was standing in front of the attacking animal, Excalibur held aloft, jabbing the grotesque form with his biting blade. The King ducked, and on queue Gwaine leapt over his back and on top of the creatures head, cleaving its head in a single stroke. As the beast died, a scream stolen from its lips, a faint shuffling of more coming could be heard in the cave's blackness. It was a pack of fearsome Wilddeoren and they were heading straight for them.
"Are you alright?" Arthur yelled to Merlin, who stood, wincing slightly, and nodded.
"We should get out of here" Gwaine said, eager not to encounter more of the foul-smelling beasts. They ran towards the cave's entrance, where Merlin stopped. "Go on," he told them, "I'll stop them"
"Just come with us!" Arthur shouted back.
"I can't let them get out, they could hurt somebody" Merlin explained, "Go." The boy span on his heel and disappeared back into the cave's gaping mouth, swallowed up instantly by the darkness within. He faced a pack of maybe seven Wilddeoren, steadily gaining on him. The Warlock was unafraid. "Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu!" he cried, expecting the earth around him to shake, but barely a stone was shifted. Shaking his head, confused as to why the earthquake was not obeying his magic, he tried again. "Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu!" he called again, louder and with more command in his tone, slamming a palm into the wall in an effort to begin the spell – or was it in frustration? When only a small shake, bringing down a few heavier rocks into the path of the Wilddeoren broke out, Merlin began to panic. They were almost upon him now, giving him only chance to shout "Ic þe bebie-" before the first beast hit him, sending him sprawling. On his back and defenceless, since his magic was failing him, Merlin thought he was done for as the first animal leapt. He squeezed his eyes shut, flinching, and waited for the pain; the blow to finally end it all. It did not come, in fact a much more welcome sound clattered above him: the sound of sword meeting monster gut. Eyes flying open, the young Warlock saw a face from long ago above his own "getting into trouble as usual?" it asked.
"Elyan!" Merlin cried happily.
The youngest of Arthur's knights stood above him, sword plunged into a Wilddeoren's gut. He pulled it free with effort, deftly slashing a second attacking beast as he acknowledged his friends greeting, "It's good to see you too, Merlin – but now really isn't the time," he paused, to twist his blade across another ones throat, shoving its corpse from him, "just run!"
"Good idea" with this, the pair ran across the cave floor, Merlin a little slower than his comrade, for he now carried a wound and a concussion, as the remaining few beasts retreated into the black belly of the cave. Reaching open air, Merlin led Elyan away from the cave, until he felt it was safe to stop. Doubling over, the Warlock groaned as he felt blood trickle down his chest. Falling into a rock, Merlin sat, catching his breath, and assessed his wounds. There was a light graze on his forehead from the second fall, but it was the shoulder wound that worried him: it was deep, curved like the claw was, not to mention the fact the beasts probably hosted a flagship of diseases. Grimacing as he shifted to hold the cut closed, slowing the flow of blood, Merlin glanced up at Elyan: to his surprise the young knight was watching him suspiciously. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"You are a sorcerer" was the response, a betrayed tone in the knight's voice. Of course, Merlin thought, he died before they all found out, he never knew. Looking as earnest as possible, the Warlock replied "Yes."
"And you used magic in Camelot?"
Another nod, "only ever to help people, to help Arthur"
"But it's illegal – you know that!" Elyan suddenly lifted his sword, pointing it at Merlin, whose eyes became so sad at this. "I do," he started, hands in the air, "but it's alright – Arthur knows now!" Merlin stood, he would not be afraid of who he was anymore. "I am your friend, Elyan. Come with me; the King, Percival, and Gwaine – they're all waiting." Merlin held out a hand to his old friend. He was hurt by the young knight's response, in all honestly. He had thought that the time of fear was over, but he remembered that not all lived to see the peace. Elyan studied him for a moment, taking in the man he once knew. Merlin looked honest as ever, but he had changed, that was definite. After a minute, Elyan lowered his sword slowly, finally returning it to his belt. "Okay." The young knight said, "Let's go find our friends." Sorcerer or not, he didn't think Merlin was a threat; he regretted doubting his friend. Merlin smiled back.
They had just broken the tree line when the first cheerful shouts met them, Gwaine and Percival speeding across the car park to enthusiastically greet Elyan, who visibly relaxed when he saw his friends. Merlin laughed at their joyful reunion, not bitter over the knight's suspicion and genuinely glad to see them looking so happy. Arthur strolled over at a more leisurely pace, looking like an annoyed dad with a group of excited three year olds who hadn't seen each other in a while. It was to Merlin that he spoke, while the three boys talked loudly nearby, "we were worried when you didn't meet us here."
"I'm sorry" Merlin said, "ran into some trouble – Elyan rescued me, you should go say hello." Eager not to discuss the failure of his magic, Merlin tried to get rid of Arthur, but it did not work, for the King noticed his injuries. "You're hurt," he said, concerned now, seeing the blood seeping through Merlin's two day old shirt, "what happened?"
Merlin shook his head quickly, attempting a faltering smile, "It's nothing. This happened when I was first attacked." Arthur was unconvinced, "then why did Elyan need to save you?" Merlin chose to ignore the question, digging the keys from his pocket and heading towards the car. "Is your magic not working?" Arthur called after him, causing the other knight's to uneasily fall quiet.
"It's nothing, really" Merlin said over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact. The truth was there was something seriously wrong with his magic for it not to work, and it scared him. Arthur looked troubled, then bit back the response formed in his mind 'was the Grettir right?' Instead, he turned brightly to Elyan, "It is good to see you, my friend." The King clasped arms with the young knight, who grinned keenly in response. A quick glance in Merlin's direction told him the Warlock was pre-occupied wrapping a gauze bandage around his injured shoulder, so Elyan spoke quietly to Arthur. "You know he is a sorcerer then? I was unsure what to do."
"There was no need to doubt him" Arthur reassured his young friend, "I found out he was a sorcerer a long time ago. I reacted the same way as you, at first," the King smiled wryly, "I feared and suspected him; forgot he was my friend. But then I found out all he has done, for me – for Camelot, there is no need to doubt him." Arthur paused, sending a final look in his former servant's direction before turning back to his Knights. "If there is any man I trust, it is him."
Back in the car and driving south, the round table was again being built: scraps of halves becoming a united whole once more. They were starting to grow back together again; perhaps it could still be the way it once was. After a short conversation about what they were dealing with, they were off, snacks devoured in a few seconds (mainly by one knight, we all know who). One step closer to success, the next point on the map decided, they raced the sun across the land, in pursuit of another miracle.
(The broken table)
"Where next?" asked a bored Gwaine, cracking open the window of the stifling car. They were pulled over in the hard shoulder, after a concussed Merlin had become dizzy, only stopping just in time to vomit at the roadside. The four knights remained in the sweltering car, its old air conditioning doing nothing against the May heat bearing down on them. "There is an abandoned castle in the south of this land, where we first found the round table" Arthur answered.
"I remember it well" said Elyan; "It is where we all became knights" They smiled at a fond memory.
"That is, of course, if we ever get there" Arthur grumbled, eyeing Merlin's hunched back with annoyance.
"He can't help it if he's injured" Gwaine reminded him, defending their friend.
"Yes," said Arthur, tight lipped, "but when he refuses help and causes his own injuries, then we need to have a talk."
"You think this is his fault?"
"I think he is not being honest with us," Arthur turned around in his seat to face Elyan, "In the cave, when he was trying to do magic, what happened?"
Elyan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sandwiched between Gwaine and Percival, "I don't know enough about magic to be sure, but he tried a spell a few times; it looked like it wasn't working" he told Arthur truthfully.
"There is something wrong with his magic that he's not telling us" the King said to no one in particular, "maybe the Grettir was right about him being weakened."
"Well, after all he's been through, I say we give him a break," Gwaine sighed, slightly annoyed, "If there is a serious problem he knows we're here for him. Leave him be, for now." With this, the knight slipped out of the car, leaving the King and his men inside. Shaking his head at their unkind words and doubts of someone who had never let them down, he approached the shivering Merlin, placing a hand on his good shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?" The boy started, then straightened up and smiled appreciatively.
"I'll be fine," Merlin nodded, "It's just a mild concussion."
"But if you need to stop for a while, get your head together, that's okay"
Merlin laughed, "Yeah? Try telling them that." He gestured towards the knights waiting in the car, who looked away quickly. "They blame me for getting hurt, don't they?" the warlock asked, but he knew the answer. Gwaine sighed, rubbing a hand through the back of his hair, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Merlin?"
"No," suddenly stretching, Merlin started to head back to the car, sending what he hoped was a normal smile at his friend, "Nothing at all."
"Merlin" The Warlock turned back, stopped short. "I don't know about the others, but magic or not, you've still got me" Gwaine was serious, for him. He smiled, but it was more sincere than usual, openly honest instead of being guarded. One side of Merlin's mouth twitched, awkwardly nodding, the Warlock turned again and jumped into the car.
An hour and a half; three short stops for Merlin to dash to the nearest bushes later, they arrived at the ruins of an old castle all five of them recognised. Taking another two tablets in hopes to fight past another wave of nausea, Merlin closed his eyes with a sigh, wishing he could just get some sleep for once. "Come on!" soon distracted by Arthur's shout, the Warlock heaved himself forwards, round to the front of the car where the others waited for him. "Are you sure you want to come? You could wait in the car if you're still not feeling well" Percival offered kindly, to which the others nodded in agreement. Merlin forced himself to smile brightly, shaking his head. "If I stay, who'd look after all of you? You wouldn't last five minutes without me" he said, pushing ahead of them and straight towards the castle in the distance. He didn't see the significant looks of the knight's behind him, or the worry lining their faces.
This time, what they were looking for took hours to find. There wasn't enough of the original castle left to find their way around, so they were left wandering over crumbling walls and into damp underground rooms, with only a few strangling tourists there. The castle stood on the coastline, perched atop a cliff, mounded into a grassy hill next to a steep fall of rocks to a beach. The beach was lonely, dotted with many boulders jutting into the sea, hundreds of feet underneath the castle. Into the cliff was set many caves, deep by the looks of it, like gashes into the hill's underside. One cave in particular caught Merlin's eye, on the opposing side of the beach: like it was guarding the castle in its view. He zoned out looking at it, as if it were drawing him in, the sound of the sea flooding his ears. He took a step forwards, heading towards a winding path to the beach. If he could just get to that cave, he had a feeling something great would happen, something – "Merlin!" The spell broken, Merlin's gaze was averted by the King's shout, "stop sightseeing and start searching" Arthur commanded, shaking his head and walking confidently off. All thoughts of the strange cave driven from his mind, Merlin distractedly moved to the other side of the ruins and began searching for signs of magic.
By the time anything happened at all, they had been there for four hours; there was only an hour left until sunset. It was Arthur, walking along the far wall with Percival in tow, who spotted something unusual. "Go get Merlin please" he said, and the tall knight nodded before hurrying off. Standing below a high archway, Arthur studied the middle stone of the arch intently. It bore the same rune as the stone at Glastonbury Tor: the sword binded by roses. He was sure of it.
"What is it?" After a few hours calm walking around the ruins, Merlin's head was feeling a lot better. His skin had lost the sheen of sweat and paleness, returning to a healthier shade; even his shoulder wound had cauterised, no longer bleeding through the bandage. He felt a lot more normal, convincing himself that the fault of his magic this morning had just been a fluke, that everything was okay. Still, shreds of doubt hung in his bones like a weight dragging him down. He ran swiftly now, jumping over a low wall with ease to reach Arthur's side. The King pointed above their heads, "Is that the same rune as the one at Avalon?" he asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions. Merlin squinted at it for a second, "Maybe, It's too far to be certain."
"But it could be?"
"I think so" Merlin said, "Do you want me to try the spell?"
"Do you think you're up to it?" Arthur asked, eyebrows elated; still a tiny bit worried about his friend's health after the fight earlier. "I'm fine, Arthur. I'm not an idiot" Merlin rolled his eyes, preparing to try using magic again.
"That's debatable" the King muttered stiffly.
Glaring at the archway and uttering the spell quietly, Merlin's eyes flashed with bright light, mimicked by the rune carved into the stone. The entire archway began to glow faintly, strengthening until it was consumed by a dazzling light, golden and shining upon the earth. From the gateway, the silhouettes of two figures could be seen approaching, blurred at first but becoming more solid as they got nearer, until they stood on just the other side of the veil: smiling faces translucent, lacking colour or life, waiting to be released. Arthur felt his heart stop in his chest, frozen in time. "Guinevere" he said, barely a breath, casting a cloud of pale white smoke in the cold air. She nodded, dark hair bouncing across her shoulders, as she pressed a hand to her trembling lips. Gwen mouthed her husband's name, but her voice was stolen by the veil, silencing her. It was like she was trapped behind glass, they could see her but not hear her, like an echo of a life.
The King silently extended a hand to the veil, pressing his palm against the light. He could not reach through it: the gateway was not fully open, and nothing could pass it. On the other side, Guinevere did the same, bringing her palm up to his, so they stood on opposite sides, not quite touching, but united. Arthur could see her dainty, slender fingers perfectly aligned with his, but he could not feel their warmth. She was so close, but he could not touch her. He said her name again, more of a plea now: inside he felt his blood flow cold, his fragile state of mind snapping. "Why can't see get through?" he begged, twisting to see Merlin, who stood with a dumbstruck look on his face. The boy shook his head, not taking his eyes off his old friend Gwen, "I-I don't know." Gwen. Merlin couldn't quite believe his eyes; his first friend at Camelot, who remained his friend even when she was Queen; he was nothing but a servant to her, but still she was his friend, never loosing the person she was. "Could it be the spell?" Arthur asked, but something had changed in his voice, it was colder than before, with a rage settled into it, "Is this because you are weak?"
Merlin blinked, confused as to his friends sudden apathy. "I've told you, there is nothing wrong with me" he raised his tone, a frustration building in his words. If you are told enough times that you are weak, or you are nothing, eventually you will start to believe it. Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but was stopped by a tapping on the glass behind him. Guinevere stood there, the light surrounding her like a golden halo, sympathetically gazing in their direction. She shook her head softly; eyes trained on her husband, and said three little words to break the tension. They might not be able to hear her, but it was obvious what she said: 'he's your friend'. Arthur, closing his eyes, was astounded even now by the kindness shown by his beloved wife, who knew that he would regret being cruel to his friend, and saved him. He felt the anger dissolve inside him, a guilty expression replacing the one of suppressed rage on his face. He faced Merlin yet again, but not in anger this time, for his shoulders dropped and his eyes were misty. "I'm sorry for doubting you. But she's just so close-" he broke off, choked, as the first tear slipped down his cheek, "Please, please help her."
Merlin, who too was grateful of Gwen's intervention, not wanting to fight again, didn't know what to say. Arthur looked so sad, like the heart had been ripped from him. But after all that had been said, the Warlock had begun to doubt himself. Could it be that his magic was not strong enough to break through the veil? The idea that Guinevere would remain a prisoner because he had not the strength to free her terrified him. He felt his own face dampen with tears, of relief and fear. He shook his head, doubt of his own powers rising. "I could try the spell again" he said evenly, trying to keep the shaking from his voice. The King nodded, seeing the doubt in Merlin's won eyes now, so instead faced his Queen once again. He took in her honest brown eyes, the simple smile curving her lips at seeing him again, the sweep of her dress as it reached the floor. She was perfect to him; no sweeter sight could have graced his ancient eyes.
Trying the spell again, Merlin prayed that some magic was left in him, but the doubt crossed into his being, casting a shadow upon his heart, and the spell did not work. "Please," he begged, whispering the spell again. Nothing changed because he had not changed: he still doubted his ability. "No" he mumbled. Another tear falling, the Warlock despaired for the fate of his friends, who would be equally broken if he failed. The knights had flocked around, standing in a semi-circle around them, circling the archway brimming with light. Merlin closed his eyes, he couldn't bear to see the sight before him anymore; it made his heart ache.
In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, a spark flickered inside the black recesses of his mind, barely an ember at first, but growing into an inferno. He remembered, even though it hurt. He remembered his father's words. Because despite his denial, and the hope growing bolder every day: he was broken. By time, by heartbreak, by destiny – he had been broken. But not irreplaceably - never that. However to grow into his full strength, the tower of power he once stood, he had to forgive; let go of his past. And to let go of the past, he had to first remember it. It was the first small step into the light after years of living in darkness, but it was a start. So, he remembered the words burnt into his soul, and said the spell a final time – but this time, daring to believe. He spoke the spell, calling out with all he had left. "You are a son of the earth," he remembered; below him, the ground trembled with forgotten power, "the sea" the distant waves crashed with a new fierceness on the rocks far below them, "the sky"above, the sky cracked with lightning, illuminating the scene, striking the ground and completing the circle. "You are magic itself" Merlin opened his eyes, flashing with a light, a magic, brighter than before. Magic struck the place, that lonely castle ruin in a stormy corner of Britain, a lost relic in a time of dormant magic, and power returned to the old Warlock's heart.
In front of him, the veil cracked, shattering into a million pieces as it fell with a crash. Arthur and Guinevere's hands were suddenly touching, grabbing each other with interlaced fingers and warmth of love. They stared at this for a moment, no longer, before they collided in a hug. The King swept his Queen up into his arms, off her feet, clinging to her so tightly they seemed to merge into one as he span around. To the two of them, together at last, nothing in the world mattered more. Guinevere laughed, "I am so happy I got to see you again" she whispered into his ear, tickling it and provoking a laugh of his own.
"I would never leave without you" he replied, but as he said so, a great sadness consumed him: isn't that exactly what Merlin had done just yesterday? Left the one he loved dearest behind – to help him? Feeling even more guilt at his previous anger, he set Gwen down on her feet, and she beamed at him, but her face changed as she caught a glimpse of a figure behind him. "Elyan!" she breathed, elated; running straight into her brother's open arms, "Is it really you?"
"It's me, Gwen" her brother smiled contently, straining to keep his own tears of joy in check. Gwen pulled back, suddenly looking sickened. "I'm so sorry," she gushed, tears formed, "I killed you."
"No," Elyan shook his head, taking her by the shoulders, "Never, dear sister. Morgana did." He reassured her, and she hugged him again.
"Nice to know my dear friends forgot about me so easily," the second figure wandered from the archway, grinning at them all.
"Sir Leon!" the King cried, his joy at seeing his wife spilling out into his actions as he clasped arms with his friend enthusiastically, as did the other knights as they met with their old leader, for Leon had been the one to assume leadership of the knight's after Arthur's death.
As the Knights were cheerful in their long-awaited reunion, thinking all the lost men were found and now among them, the Queen of Camelot approached someone standing on the edge of the fray. "Merlin," she said warmly, and the boy started, turning to her with a smile made to look cheerful, but she could see it was guarded. She knew why, and reaching out to touch his arm, she confronted him, "are you are my friend, Merlin?"
"What?" the Warlock pulled a face of shock, but still did not quite meet her eye, "of course I am!"
"And you trust me?"
"Always"
Taking his arm in a way that forced him to look at her; not at the ground, Gwen said "then you have to believe me when I say you have been forgiven a long time ago."
The Warlock sighed, "No, don't."
"What happened to Arthur wasn't your fault" The Queen told him, wishing he would understand. She could see that even now he blamed himself, and probably had done for a long time. "It was. I was supposed to protect him, you trusted me to save him," Merlin's voice was filled with self-hatred now, but it got very quiet very quickly as he dropped eye contact again "and I let you down."
"No, Merlin – you tried, and fought, for him more than any here today. I forgave you a long time ago" Gwen honestly held nothing but love for the boy, now a man, who had been a good friend. "I don't deserve it" he muttered miserably, for it was Gwen who he felt the most guilt towards. Out of everyone, it was her who loved Arthur as much as he did, and of all of them, it was her he let down most. "No, you deserve more than that. You deserve to be happy, oh-" Breaking off, Guinevere pulled her old friend into an embrace, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened, then tightened his own arms around her, whispering hoarsely "Thank you."
"No, thank you. You saved me today – saved us all. Please, Merlin, just try. I can forgive you so easily, but that means nothing if you don't forgive yourself." The words stuck with Merlin, strangely. He leaned back, with a nod and watery smile. Stroking his cheek affectionately, Guinevere smiled back before heading back over to Arthur's side. Merlin stood, still as a rock, for a while before they noticed his absence. The sky above had grown dark, sunset being missed by them all in the tense events of the evening. The knights had built a small fire on the hillside, within the ruins, ready to camp there tonight.
He heard someone approaching from behind, and a hand clapped his shoulder. It was Percival. "Come on, everyone's waiting" the knight gestured with his head towards the fireside, a few 'rooms' along in the ruins. Merlin nodded and made to follow him, but stopped. "Percival," he said; the knight turned, "Thank you. I realized I never said it before, but for what you did back in Camelot, bringing magic back and all – just, thank you." Merlin spoke quickly, but the gratitude was heartfelt.
Percival shook his head, "It was your story that did it, Merlin, I just told it" the lumbering man said.
"But without you doing that, Albion would never have been truly right- it needed the magic" Merlin said, "and when I couldn't do that, you did, and I am in your debt."
"I was already in yours" the huge Knight grinned, laughing as he pulled Merlin forward, arm swung around his shoulder, the two of them walking back to the campfire, "Let's call it even."
The night was long in the best of ways: with old friends laughing and stories to be told, long forgotten. Their laughter carried on the wind long into the early hours of the morning, bringing with its cheerful tones new hope: perhaps prophecies were beatable after all. It was by chance that Merlin saw a light flickering far below, coming from within the cave. Tunnel vision consumed his sight again, becoming solely focused on that light. He didn't even realize he was moving until he felt an arm grab his own, stopping his path. "What is it?" Gwaine asked, face inches away and intrigued, "We were shouting you, but it was like you couldn't hear us."
"The cave" Merlin stuttered, "Look, there's a light in that cave." The other knights rose, joining them, and squinted to see Merlin's phantom 'light' in the dullness of the night. "I can't see anything" Leon said, struggling to find a clue, some evidence, of light penetrating the cave in the distance. "There's nothing there, Merlin" Arthur said, coming to his friend's side, who was still gazing at the glow, unable to break eye contact for fear of losing it. "There is – can't you see it?" the boy whispered, "We should go see what it is." Finally breaking gaze, Merlin looked instead at his King, begging with his eyes for help. There was something in that cave – he could feel it. Arthur sighed, "It's not safe: we could fall and break our necks just getting down there in this light. Wait until the morning, we'll check then" Seeing the uncertain look on Merlin's face, Arthur continued, "I promise." Reluctantly nodding, Merlin returned with them to the fireside, looking over his shoulder as he did so – the light was still there, waiting.
(The Dark Queen in the gloom)
Unknown to them, the knights assembled at the fire were being watched from far away. A solitary figure, obscured in the low light to merely a blur, a shadow, watched their every move in a pool of water. It smiled grimly, teasingly, ready for the day ahead. "Don't worry, Emrys" Morgana soothed to no one, "you'll find out exactly what's within the cave tomorrow. I'll look forward to seeing you then." With a sweep of her black dress, the last Priestess of the old religion swept from the attic she inhabited, out into the night to seek revenge. With a heart as cold as stone, she left no trace where she walked, knowing she would reach that very hillside in a few short hours. She could almost sense the fear of them, she thought, hooked smile tracing her features, oh how sweet her revenge would taste. "Just a few more hours," she said, knowing that by the time day broke, she would be waiting. They wouldn't even see her coming. Finally Emrys - the name stung her throat like a curse - would pay for what he did.Oh, it would be very sweet indeed.