Chapter eleven: Last to stand
Merlin had tried, and he knew Leon had too. Staying though was not an option for two souls who could not find rest. Too much had happened; a lifetime full of memories and adventures only they had left between them. Arthur, Gwaine, and so many others had fallen in the name of a kingdom which was no longer theirs. And yet here Percival stood before them to say goodbye without regret, because he had fallen in love and he was happier than Merlin had ever seen him.
A glance over to his side proved the dual emotions he had to leave Percival behind were shared by Leon. His friend had regained most of his physical strength, but even now in the returning look of full acceptance and sadness he saw that Leon wasn't back to his old self. No, just like him Leon had too many scars on his heart to fully recover. There were so many open wounds in fact that his friend agreed with his children about their decision to live with Percival and Amelia rather than travelling on with their life weary father.
Sorrow marked Leon's weathered face while he said his tearful goodbye to his children and he listened to Percival make his vow that he would always protect them. Maybe they would not see any of them ever again… but that did not stop the restless need to move onwards, or was that backwards? Not a word got spoken about it, but Merlin sensed that like him Leon had not closed off the most important chapter of their life. While they were not ready to go back there they both knew it was where they'd go before the end of their journey. And maybe once they did they could find peace?
Survival had been an instinct they could not fight, but over the seasons the guilt of it had become the bane of their existence. How much more suffering could they outlive? On the day they rode off side by side they both knew that they would keep a company of two… for their hearts could embrace no more. Friendships of the past had hurt too deep and they could only bear the memory of it in the silent company of each other. There were no more words needed to share their grief, no more stories and on some days even their tears were allowed to fall in a silent hug of understanding
Merlin admired the strength of the man they left behind with one last salute of the bond they had shared. But more than anything he found that he did not have the courage left for himself to face living among others and caring for them again. Not even the lingering words of Iseldir about the endless cycle of the earth and how in his long life he ought to hold on to it made him feel capable of moving on.
What was the point anyway? At least in this journey of two he could cling onto what he was… because for the life of him he could not fathom whom he might be after Leon passed the bridge into the next world. That day was far from his mind, and even when it wasn't he squashed it down. No… all he had was here and now!
Riding out further into unknown lands Merlin enjoyed the quiet company of his best friend. Many days had passed since they left Percival behind, and as Leon's hair greyed their pace slowed down. Sure they remained restless, but more than anything they had learned to enjoy the natural world around them. They had seen the mountains, vast forests, old ruined temples and clear river streams filled with life. While they ignored the people who lived in it they had become shadows in the changing world around them. Rumours of battle and hunger passed them by. It was just too hard to care again… and yet when innocent souls got hurt they intervened on behalf of whom they were and could never shake off altogether.
During cold winter nights they huddled close together. Sometimes before they curled up on a bedroll though they talked and drank the ale they had bought at a market stall. It was during a particular cold night they spoke of Arthur again. Wine warmed his throat while a fire warmed the rest of him. After a long silence Leon sighed. "You loved him."
"As did you."
"Not what I meant, and you know it." A knowing chuckle came his way and Merlin bowed his head in quiet admission that indeed he had understood what Leon intended to say. All the same Leon added, "Arthur holds half of your heart, and I think Gwaine stole the other half. You and them… there was always something about you, as if… like our quests could not quite be complete without the three of you. I don't know if that makes sense, but it is what I see as I sit here, looking back. Sure your magic has saved us, but without them your gift could not shine, because they grounded you. They gave you reason to go on even on the days when maybe you did not know how to."
Speechless by the truth of Leon's words Merlin held out his cup for a refill. His friend as always sensed his mood of contemplation and he poured the spiced wine in silence, not adding more food for thought on the unexpected turn the short conversation had taken. In appreciation of the gesture Merlin clang his cup against Leon's in a silent toast to the two men who would always be on his mind some place. "You are observant, old friend. I should have known you'd see passed my silence."
Leon shrugged, "The key of the royal chambers and the silver crest pendant held safe in your pouch gave it away to me long ago."
Unable to deny the plain truth Merlin grinned at the smart logic of his friend's mind and the way he had not said anything before tonight. "Why now?"
"It needs to be said, Warlock. Long after me you will walk on. I do not want you to be alone on your journey and they… I am sure that they too would understand if you were to find someone to warm your heart."
Merlin sighed, "They never even knew how I felt. I only realised after they…"
In the dark of night Merlin sensed rather than saw how his friend winced. "I am sorry."
"This is not goodbye, is it?"
"Not by a long shot", Leon clasped a hand around his shoulder. The offered lifeline of friendship had Merlin lean into the embrace. Though in his heart he loved Arthur and Gwaine more than he would ever love anyone he felt a deep connection with Leon; the man who knew him better than any other human being ever had and maybe even would do. To him Leon was the older brother he never had. In some way Merlin almost felt like they could become lovers, not that he ever felt the lust he associated with a relationship like it. No, the deep bond which they began to form since Arthur fell was so special that he did not have a name to call it.
So rather than contemplate it or deny himself of what he needed in this moment he let Leon lay them down next to the fire they had built. Sleeping in the cold and living through the long nights was only possible when close to another source of warmth. And over the last winters he had come to cherish the trust it required to spend the night under one blanket together. "Do you think… what you said before Ecbert banished us…"
Leon ruffled his hair at his inability for once to find the words. "Yes, the older I become the more I believe that the prophecy may come true. I know he never said it in so many words, but he needed you too, Warlock. It was in everything he did."
"Two halves of the same coin."
"Hmm, not quite", Leon disagreed with the phrase Merlin recited more out of habit than anything, because he had not heard anyone say it in many summers. "The both of you needed Gwaine to balance you out, to call your bluff and to mediate the sharper edge of emotions without even knowing he did so. Arthur may have been your sun, but Gwaine was the moon to you both."
Amazed by the revelation of his friend's ever quiet insight Merlin turned around to face him. "Poetic… and where am I in all that?"
"The earth", Leon did not waste a breath. "Your magic comes from nature itself, as does your soul. It is what you are. Now… cast your spell and go to sleep, or stay quiet so I can at least have some peace."
"Yes, Sire." Turning back around with a grin Merlin let the taller man spoon him so they could stay warm together. "Night", he said before he, as ordered, cast a soft spell under his breath to protect and hide them both from whatever dangers lurked in the shadows.
"Night, Warlock."
By the time the days drew longer they picked up on rumours about the Saxons moving on and of new borders of faceless Kings shifting into a splintered mess of Kingdoms. Could the stories the old woman in the marketplace told them about the fate of Camelot be true? Had Ecbert left their home behind after plundering the vaults? It wasn't even a question between them when Leon steered his mare around and Merlin followed after him. They needed no words to say that they both had to see for themselves what was left of their past and how Camelot had fared in their forced absence.
The distant mountains and green hills of Albion lured them forth, until the leaves grew yellow and red once more. To Leon's joy they reached the paths they remembered from quests of a past life. They crossed the border of their fallen Kingdom, or at least what used to be an invisible line between Camelot and Escetir. Leon felt the pull of home beckon him forth, but to his sadness he found that he could not ride as fast as he used to back then. His body had grown weaker than he liked; his age of seventy-five summers at last catching up with him even though his mind had refused to give up on being there for Merlin for as long as he could be.
His warlock friend though need not be told. Unhurried Merlin rode by his side, and where the paths through the forest grew narrow he followed suit behind him. It had become a silent agreement between them that they did not speak of the fact Leon more and more needed to search for words and that his weaker side did not always listen to his brain. His head injury had never altogether faded from him, but Leon had refused to let it rule his actions and for a long time he had gotten away with it. The many days of training as a knight had allowed him to wield a sword for long enough to even make it to today.
Leon could not help the wry smile when Merlin offered him a waterskin. Time had not caught up with the immortal man; his youthful looks had never quite left him even though grey streaks of hair and a few wrinkles fooled those who did not know him. A look of "what" came his way, but Leon did not voice his thoughts. Instead he steered his mare onto the left path at the fork in the road. "Tomorrow we will be home at last, old friend."
His remark met with a darkening look of the same fears Leon felt wrap around his heart as well. It had crossed his mind too that Camelot could lay in ruins, scarred beyond repair just like the both of them. Then again, Leon mused with a sense of surprise for the way his mind went, he felt by far less broken than he once had. Somehow it did not even hurt anymore to think of the past and the woman he had loved, and lost.
Life on the road with Merlin had given Leon a different meaning than his crown and vows once held, and far more freedom than he had ever had. The weight of choices did not wear him down anymore. All he had to decide each day was which way to travel and where to rest his head for the night. And if he didn't think of it Merlin would. No one but they themselves suffered if they chose wrong. Was this how Gwaine once had felt, before coming to Camelot? Leon found he at last understood the friend who used to be a total opposite to his calm tempered and law obeying self.
In his newfound peace which came with age Leon found he accepted whom he'd become. The once open wounds had closed, and some even healed. Time had not stopped for him like it seemed to have for Merlin. No, he had found his inner calm self again. The shy knight who had long ago knelt to receive his cloak and made his vows of duty had not left him altogether. His youthful self had simply grown up into a man who had lost his path but found his way home again.
A sense of hope warmed his soul as he rode on. Maybe his hometown too had found a way to survive, to somehow be no less than what it was and not still weighed down by old scars. Gwen rested there as did all of the people he had once known. Even Arthur's spirit would never leave Camelot, of this Leon was sure.
Everything he had envisioned though proved to come up short of the truth. The sight of proud towers rising up into the sunshine welcomed him back like old times in ways he had not considered. A long and wide tear in one of the towers drew his attention at first, but when he looked further he noticed that most of the citadel looked as strong as it ever did. Sure it was damaged. Leon was not blind to the fallen bricks and crumbled walls, and yet against the bright blue sky Camelot spoke to him like a flashback of time.
If he did not know better than he could almost expect a crowd waiting his return, or no Gwen would come down the stairs to welcome her husband home. He could almost see her except that next to her Arthur would be there too. In a flash he dismounted to walk the rest of the way. He had made it back at last. If he walked inside, he could go up to his old chambers or maybe…
His thoughts faltered at the sight of Merlin holding out a familiar bronze key on the palm of his hand for him. "Sire", his friend said while his hand trembled. "Welcome home."
Of course inside the castle a different story awaited their footsteps in empty hallways. The blasted Mercian soldiers had conquered, taken… and ruined far more than his life and the values of old. Once a sight to behold the Round Table, which used to be the centre of the Kingdom, lay ruined and scattered into pieces. Some of the stained glass windows were broken, shards of which had fallen to the ground outside the walls. A beam of sunshine lit the no longer polished wooden floor to show Leon the truth of how long it had been since he got pushed onto his knees before Ecbert to surrender his reign.
A hand squeezed his shoulder in reaction to his tears of grief. Leon need not look to his side to know that Merlin shared his anger at the state of their ruined past. Everything looked as if the soldiers had left the damaged town to the elements, uncaring for what they had conquered and torn apart. All the enemy had wanted were the riches of the no doubt emptied vaults. Leon feared that he would never know what happened to the people he had to leave behind. Had they sided with King Ecbert? Or had they died… or fled… or… no, he stopped himself from carrying the thought any further.
Instead of allowing himself to consider the worst Leon walked out of the large room and over to the royal chambers, once his sanctuary away from the crown. Outside the room he faltered for a moment, afraid of what awaited him inside. Merlin though changed his mind, "It's still locked, trust me."
Unchanged his chambers welcomed him, and for a long time Leon sat at the table talking with Merlin. Memories echoed between the walls until the candles had burned themselves out and the jug of ale stood empty. Led over to the bed by his friend he relived a flash of the past as Merlin undid his boots. Too tired to speak by then he rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. For the first time in ages soft linen sheets covered Leon as he surrendered to slumber and peaceful dreams of the past he would not wake from.
Merlin had seen it coming, even though he refused to admit to the last goodbye until he had to say it. The moment his friend laid down to rest an inner calm had fallen over him. Like him Leon had clung to life and together they made the most of what they had left in spite of all the cruel twists fate had cast over them. United they had stood strong, but now Merlin had to face eternity alone… like the prophecies had foretold.
Staring into the flames of the funeral pyre of Camelot's last knight he curled his fists in anger. Why?! He wanted to shout, plead and beg… but of course destiny would not grant him his wish to cross the bridge into Avalon after his friends. His end was not a given. Would he ever get to rest his damaged soul? No one knew the answer to his question.
"Once I am gone take my sword, Warlock. Cast it into the ground and let it protect his memory. Arthur will rise again and he will want to come here. Make sure that our King has a home left to go back to. Protect her… for you… for me… for the world. Let the people remember what is important. No more greed, or battle."
Flashes of the last conversation with Leon echoed in his mind. Merlin had not been able to contradict the wisdom of it, because he knew it was a goodbye he was not ready for. A wry smile and a weak squeeze of age weathered fingers around his had conveyed the fact that Leon too had known that he would not wake up the next morning.
"Father gave me this sword, you see. And Tom… Gwen's father… he forged it right here in the lower town. His fires, the sounds he made as he worked… they are among the past of Camelot. You… you are its future."
Words had come further apart, some sounding a little slurred as Leon spoke them, and it reminded Merlin of the pain his friend had suffered during the first desperate moons of their banishment. To overcome the blow on his head it had taken more than magic, because healing was an art beyond any other. Leon though had the right braveness in his heart for he had pushed himself further than most to survive even when it hurt to live on without the ones he loved. Was that what he had to do too now? Merlin wasn't so sure that he could find it in him to be just as strong.
"Live on for us all, Warlock. Love for Gwaine and fight for Arthur, breathe the air for me… until one day we will meet again in Avalon."
Though the flames had died bright gold burned out in the world. A knight's trusted sword slid into the ground, cutting straight through the cobblestones on the surface with a little aid of magic until it disappeared beyond its grip. Satisfied with the result of his power Merlin found the spell in the depths of his soul and he let it rip out of him. Its words echoed between the ruined walls of Camelot. No man could ever walk here again, and no one would find the town unless he deemed them worthy of such an honour.
By dusk the ashes of friendship blew away on the wind. Merlin had waited until nothing remained of Leon and the last of his first life lay shattered around him just like Camelot itself. Surrounded by the fragments of a legacy he had wanted to last for longer than it was meant to Merlin fell to his knees and cried. Grief on top of grief left his soul so torn that he could not muster any strength to care for what came next.
It was Emrys who stumbled off into the dark of night; an immortal man so lost and broken hearted that it would take him about a century of time to find his path to live in the light of day again…
THE END
Author note:
*hands out tissues*. Thus ends the saddest story I have written so far. Fear not though, from here on out the Torchwood Tales project will continue into an adventure for Merlin in the 21st century... and he will no longer be alone. Guess who will be back to help him? And (points at title of the project) he will make some friends along the way. Curious? More can be read in "Mystery in Glastonbury", which will be up soon! One last note: Torchwood knowledge is a plus, but not a necessity. :)
