EPILOGUE
(Four months later)
Arthur drums his fingers on the wheel impatiently, snapping, "Are we doing this or not?"
Merlin merely spares him a put-upon glance through the rearview window before looking back down at the ritual Gaius is explaining.
Gaius huffs and then continues, "And so on. It should be relatively simple, if you understand, Merlin. I'm sure she knows of it."
"Simple? Then why have you two been muttering on about it the entire drive?" Arthur asks, and this time something identifiable as grumpy escapes with it.
Merlin suppresses a laugh. "I'm sorry for once in your life someone knows more than your education has lended you in this single area," he jests, and opens the door to get out of the car. "Or perhaps you're just in a bad mood because of these colors Morgana forced us to wear."
The little business is nestled between two much larger, much grander stores, its wood-painted sign dull and ignorable in comparison. The M Sister Mediums, Scrying and Palmistry, it reads.
One of the many questions Merlin asked Arthur, after he woke up in hospital stitched up and drugged up, was why on earth Uther hated druids that much. He had affairs with two of them, Arthur had replied flatly, and a little later more hesitantly revealed one last Pendragon secret: that he had another half-sister, besides Morgana.
Which is why Merlin is standing where he is today. After a moment of the three of them standing awkwardly at the entrance, no one making the first move to enter, he sighs dramatically and pushes the door open himself.
The little place is dark and dusty, fitting for a scrying business of course, full of more odds and ends than even Gaius could boast of. Finally he finds what seemed to be the equivalent of the front desk with a bell for service, and rings it loudly.
For a minute it seems there is no one working here at present. Arthur behind him mutters, "Off we go then," just as the sliding sound of beads beckons from a back corner.
None other than herself, Cara, slips behind the desk to smile at them in a mysterious, cliche-like way, though it disappears quickly as they simultaneously recognize each other.
"Arthur! Merlin!" she cries, hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide and as violently blue as ever.
Another thing Arthur had made known to him was the fact Cara told him she was his half-sister herself, upon giving him the horn. Apparently her mother explained to her who her father was at a very young age. Information that had never been made known to Merlin despite their closeness for the better amount of two years.
Though it turned out she'd kept a lot from me already, so what does this matter?
But it does matter. Mostly just because Merlin had been employed by her half-brother to sort out her own murderous dead father, and he didn't even know it.
"What are you . . . both doing here?" she asks, eying between them with disbelief.
Arthur moves to stand besides Merlin and answers, "We need your help with something. If you don't mind."
Her face immediately darkens. "I won't call upon the dead again. I swore to myself I wouldn't. That is why I gave you the horn Arthur, to do so by yourself. If you're asking of me to -"
"No no, nothing like that," Merlin interrupts, shaking his head viciously. "Believe you me we do not want anything to the same effect of that horn."
Her brow furrows. "Then what do you want?"
"Merlin wants a divorce," Arthur states plainly, and initially Cara's face blanches. Slowly, of course, it seems she understands, or at least begins to recall from the past exactly the nature of her and her mother's scheme.
"I see," she replies, biting her lip. "In druidic terms though, you understand, it's not an easy thing to do."
"Which is where I come in, nice to meet you." Gaius steps forward to Merlin's other side, nodding his head at her with the Grimoire tucked under an arm. Her eyes widen further if possible as she recognizes it. "After a month or two of research I can say I am confident I will be able to help you two break the bond of the handfasting rite you incited from those years ago."
"Will you?" Merlin asks before she can get another word in, staring at her earnestly. She seems so flustered he almost feels bad for her.
"I . . . well, yes, of course," Cara nods, and then directs them to a back room. "Wait here, I'll close down the shop." She heads back to flip the We're Open sign over.
He notices then a tiny little television, something out of ancient times, is droning on in the corner about the latest buzz: "The previously Camelot-employed Sefa Trahir, Arthur Pendragon's own secretary, and her accomplice Eira Hane a maid at the Pendragon Estate reveal all in a startling interview with . . ."
"Merlin could you please turn that off?" Arthur says shortly from behind him, and Merlin quickly fumbles with a few different knobs until it's at least muted. Cara arrives to join them.
"I can compensate you for your time," Arthur tells her when she stops in front of him, and for the first time Cara merely rolls her eyes. Reminding Merlin a little more of who he used to know.
"That won't be necessary," she says shortly and then turns to Gaius. "So; how do we go about this?"
"Right," he nods, then opens the book. "Let us begin."
It's not too complicated of an affair in the end: Merlin and Cara reciting the old English Gaius gives them, a silk rope provided by Gaius tied around their entwined fingers before starting the ceremony and, at the close, having both of them hold the end of a small, ornate knife to cut it in half. Arthur watches as a second witness through the ceremony.
Merlin doesn't feel any different once it's over, really, except no small amount of expanding, freeing relief from that bad experience once and for all.
"Thank you," he tells Cara genuinely after they've finished, and surprises her with a hug. Arthur immediately makes a pointed cough, and Merlin makes a point to ignore him as he pulls back and tells her, "Honestly, it would be a horror to call Arthur my brother-in-law."
"Don't let Morgana hear you say that," is Arthur's comeback. Merlin rolls his eyes and finally looks at him.
"No. I'm sure she'd understand, as she deals every day with the horror of having to call you her actual brother."
Cara laughs even as Arthur's face goes red, and she asks them both, "Really, how did you two meet each other?"
Merlin opens his mouth, only to wonder if he should actually tell her. It's not too cheerful of a story, after all. He'll likely keep the scars; a large, ugly one thankfully covered up by his ever-growing hair; a slim, long one along his torso, which Morgana plainly told him she thinks looks sexy, so there's that. But even despite the slight satisfaction he knows he would feel seeing the regret on Cara's face, he can't find it in himself.
Cara, who he knows already feels much remorse for inflicting Nimueh upon him years back, Cara who has lived in remote obscurity since then. Cara who looks so much like her mother but has turned out so different, instead of aspiring for power now swearing never to dapple in summoning again.
Cara who likely gave Arthur the horn because she understands the pain of losing one's parent, and likely has no idea what her mother had tried could be made possible again.
Another thing Arthur explained; that upon his initial summoning of Uther with the horn, he had immediately heeded the call to leave, but turned back just once to glance at his father. Releasing Uther into the living world.
"It's a rather long, boring story," he shrugs, "full of Arthur being a prat and me saving his life. But there's little else to tell. We should get heading."
Arthur stares at him a second, though he seems to agree with Merlin's decision to keep the story vague, nodding at Cara before all three turn to leave.
"It was good to see you again," Arthur says to her, and the two hesitantly put their arms around each other. Cara looks like Arthur just about as much as Morgana does, but Merlin has to say they have the exact same awkward expression on their face when pulling apart.
"Merlin, wait!" Cara stops him when they've reached the door, touching his arm hesitantly. He turns back, waiting. "I . . . I wanted to say, sorry," she starts, hesitant and looking at his shoes instead of his face. "For—"
"For almost helping your mother use me to achieve immortality?" he raises an eyebrow, and her eyes snap back up to his in surprise. Merlin smiles, and continues, "I forgive you. Just . . . take care, Cara."
The drive back to the estate feels much longer than usual, though Merlin hasn't been by in a while. Seeing as Morgana and Mordred moved out to a much more accessible part of town, not too near his flat actually, he mostly sees them and the rest of the gang there.
But today everyone is meeting to go on a picnic, and Merlin wouldn't miss it for the world.
When Arthur drives through the gates and up to the estate Merlin is surprised to see not only Gwen, Morgana and Mordred by the flowers, but Lance as well. All three seem to be engaged in a very intense conversation. And with a glance to assess Arthur's face, which Merlin finds is entirely nonplussed at the sight, they get out of the car.
"Keys, sir?" Percival appears out of nowhere to ask, absolutely terrifyingly tall now that he's on two feet and out of a hospital bed, and Arthur hands them to him to have the car driven back to the garage.
Leon is next to him, frowning down at his phone. "How are our shareholders?" Arthur asks him, and Leon looks up with a hesitant expression.
Leon has been part of Arthur's inner circle all this time as well, apparently, though Merlin is less than surprised. Thanks to Sefa and Eira, who he dimly recalls seeming a bit fishy amid the bigger problems he'd been facing at the time, a reveal of all of Arthur's Inner Circle had happened on live television. The women had proceeded to discredit them, both agents of Gormause Inc, and claimed Arthur is secretly intent on ruining Camelot with his old buddies and freezing the company so he can hide away investor money.
"Hard to say," Leon starts, and then sighs. "Sefa and that maid girl really pulled a good one on us, but . . ."
"But?" Merlin cuts in with an eyebrow.
"Despite the light they've put Camelot in, it looks like a large majority of the business media have just come out with statements supporting you," Leon says, and Arthur raises both eyebrows. "Not Nemeth or Gormause, of course, who agree you are a loose cannon and advise all investors to pull out immediately. But many of the others are supporting you in the light of the relations your father had with those foreign companies . . ."
"Arthur!" Gwen interrupts from a ways off, and runs to hug him as if they've been parted more than a period of three hours. It's altogether sickening and adorable, though Merlin is too surprised by the sight of Morgana and Lance now to dwell on it.
The two of them are shaking hands, not smiling at each other but not frowning either. Compared to the last time Merlin has seen them together back when visiting Percival, this is a large improvement.
"Merlin," Lance inclines his head when he nears, and Morgana looks at him with the smallest of smiles.
"I'm loving that color on you," she winks at him as Lance leaves, and he rolls his eyes and tugs at his bright blue shirt. It what she's forced on him to wear today, since he and Arthur had gotten into a particularly heated argument about who wore the worst clothes. Not as bad as the bright pink one Arthur is wearing, at least.
"Mewin!" Mordred runs into his legs, reaching up with such a cute, pleading pair of eyes Merlin can't resist pulling him up into his arms.
"Hey bud! It's been awhile, huh?" It's technically been less than 48 hours, as Mordred was asleep when Merlin came to play his and Morgana's weekly match of checkers, but apparently too much time has lapsed for Mordred to not pull at his ears and laugh himself silly.
"Mordred," Morgana says sternly, enough for Mordred to stop with a pout, but Merlin can see her fighting back a grin herself.
"Do we have much time before they want to leave for the picnic?" Merlin asks her, and she shrugs.
"We're still waiting on Will and Elena—so it might be a while," she smirks.
"Good. There's something I want us to do, while we're here," Merlin tells her, before moving towards that destination.
"No, no, Mewin!" Mordred stops him with a hard pat to the chest, and then points over to the bed of lilies. "Her first."
Merlin stares at the little toddler for a moment, bewildered not only by the amount of words the child has strung together but by the fact he thinks there's a 'her' in the flowers.
"Oh. I think I know who he means. He keeps talking about her," Morgana says, not giving any more explanation before walking over to them. Merlin follows, bewildered.
But something he probably should have noticed before becomes surprisingly clear: this is the exact spot the window of the parlor looks out on, where the chair Ygraine's spirit has resided all this time. They must have been her flowers, at one point, Merlin realizes with a start. Bright yellow lilies, to go directly against the frigid order of the rest of the lawn, which Uther likely dictated.
Confirming his suspicions, Ygraine materializes there in front of him, and for once her face does not seem drawn in worry. "Thank you," she says, smiling. "You've restored order here, in the living world and for those of us here beyond it."
Mordred smiles a big, dopey grin, patting Merlin's chest and saying, "Mewin," as if to make it clearer who she means.
"Thank you for trying to help," Merlin nods, and her smile is sad.
"I couldn't do much, it would seem," she says, looking down. "I was sure I could shock Uther with my presence, maybe get him to see sense—but he did not pause. I'm not sure he even recognized me."
"I'm sorry," Merlin tells her, and out of nowhere feels himself worried. "Why are you still here, then? Is it impossible still for you to pass on, go in peace forever?" he asks.
She shakes her head, still smiling. "No. I could have chosen to do that decades ago. But I chose to stay, to watch over the next generations of my family. Do not worry - the one you seek to release will likely want to go, I daresay."
Merlin's lungs deflate in relief and she disappears, though for a moment he sees a movement in the window beyond the flowers.
"Is she gone?" Morgana asks them, blind and deaf to any of that conversation. Mordred nods happily, and then points beyond the house.
"Go!" he says, as if knowing where Merlin originally wanted to head, and who's to say he doesn't?
Merlin nods, grabbing Morgana's hand, and takes them past the house, up a smaller hill, to the gates of the cairn graveyard.
"What are we doing in here?" Morgana asks as Merlin pulls open the gate.
"It should be around the right time, if everything is back to normal again," he mutters instead, looking around the yard. It's autumn now; the one tree among the cairns has shed half its leaves, crunchy red ones that shush along their feet as they walk in. Merlin heads toward the back, where he knows Gwaine's cairn resides, and suddenly pauses.
There are no markings on any of them, but with a surety that comes deep in his bones Merlin can tell the one in front of him is the grave of Uther Pendragon.
"You lost," he says out loud, staring at the cairn expressionless. He feels Morgana squeeze his hand in comfort, but he still has to say it again. "You lost, Uther."
Then without a glance backward he continues on to reach Gwaine's cairn, only to stop at the very man's voice.
"We really should get together more, Merlin." He is there, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed and a wide smile on his face. "And I see you brought some extra company. Tell Gana she's looking as deathly beautiful as ever." He winks, and Merlin shakes his head in mock disbelief.
"I am not telling her that," he smiles, and Morgana looks at Gwaine with eyes so wide Merlin can tell its worked. His hand in hers allows her to see and hear what he sees.
"I heard you, Gwaine," she says, sounding a little faint.
"We're here because I think it's time you were put to rest," Merlin says before Gwaine can respond, who looks quite shocked himself.
But her recovers quickly. "Put to rest?!" He laughs. "That might be harder than you think, mate. See, I've tried to do it myself and it won't work."
"Uther is the reason for your death," Morgana says with a frown. "When you died, shouldn't that have been enough? Or at least when Arthur officially banished Uther to hell?"
"Woah! How did that happen?" Gwaine interrupts.
"Uther tried to possess him for good," Merlin says, and tries to explain without the images replaying in his brain. "Arthur managed to take back control. He found the connection between them - the need to prove themselves, according to Arthur. And he was strong enough to rip Uther completely from his head, just in time."
Another thing Arthur explained: he'd immediately found the horn Merlin had hidden upon regaining those spare seconds of control, remembering he'd left his old footie shoes under the desk and somehow knowing Merlin would have snuck them in there. That part is hard for them to explain to anyone, except to simply call it good luck. Fate seems a little bit too fantastical.
"And the horn Arthur accidentally released him with he used again to send Uther back," Merlin concludes, and Gwaine whistles.
"Wow. Looks like you two have been busy. Still, that doesn't seem to make much a difference as far as I'm concerned."
"No," Merlin nods, but then looks at Mordred in his arms. "But I think I know what's tying you here."
But it's also then that Merlin realizes he's not the only one here who can see Gwaine. The little toddler has likely been staring the way he is currently since Gwaine popped up, big eyes round and surprised. He doesn't protest when Merlin sets him down, which is quite unusual, and instead just points up at Gwaine to ask a very simple question.
"Who?"
Morgana gasps, putting her free hand to her mouth, and looks at Merlin. "That's who he's been asking about this whole time?"
"I'm Gwaine," meanwhile the spirit answers Mordred, who smiles with very large dimples. "What's your name?"
"Modwed," the boy answers, and claps his chubby hands.
"And this is yours?" Gwaine cocks an eyebrow at Morgana.
She nods, taking in a shaky breath before responding. "And yours."
If Gwaine could any paler than he is in ghost form, he does.
"That's my . . . ?"
He can't seem to finish with the right word.
"He was born six months after you died," Morgana starts to explain, swallowing hard.
"I'm so sorry," Gwaine shakes his head, looking the most serious Merlin has ever seen him.
But Merlin moves to stand next to Mordred, who lets him take his little hand. "But it's alright. I'll look after him, Gwaine, and so will Arthur. So will everyone." He locks eyes with Gwaine's conflicted dark ones. "You can go."
They widen, but after a long moment Gwaine slowly starts nodding. He steps forward and kneels in front of Mordred, the leaves underneath him not making a sound.
"It's nice to meet you,"Gwaine whispers to Mordred solemnly, and then puts a hand that's getting more see-through by the second against the little boy's round cheek.
And then Gwaine stands, smiles at them all and walks toward the gate of the cairns. "A new adventure awaits!" Gwaine waves as he opens it, and Merlin, Morgana and Mordred all wave back before the man closes it behind him and dissolves into the wind.
"I'll miss him," Merlin says, smiling sadly at Morgana.
"Me too," Mordred says in his small voice, and sniffs. Morgana immediately swoops her son in a big hug, and Merlin joins in as well.
"So much time has passed," she says after they pull apart, eyes sad but smiling still. "It had already been the end to me for years."
"The end?" Merlin frowns, touching her face lightly. She leans into it.
"Yes. Though, I guess, maybe not the end anymore. You and Mordred—you are my new beginnings," Morgana smiles, bright and radiant and so warm it feels like the sun has broken through autumn's cloud cover.
Merlin brushes his lips against hers, both smiling too much for it to be a real kiss. "Come on," he says against them, "we'll miss the picnic."
The three exit the cairns without a backward glance, walking down to join the rest of the party.
THE END
A/N: ….
It's been an amazing journey, you guys. I've learned so much, changed so much, bettered my writing in so many ways since I started out. I'm so thankful you joined me through it. I hope you enjoyed the conclusion of RIVULET, all your major questions were answered, and that you're smiling as wide as I am right now.
*Two characters I wanted to clear things up about*: Cara is kind of an OC. She's inspired by the fake name Nimueh went under in 1x03 to lure Merlin in, if you recall. I decided to make her an actual person, and Nimueh and Uther's daughter. Eira is from 5x12-13, that annoying blond girl who *used* Gwaine to spy. Obviously she is not connected to Gwaine in RIVULET, but she still ends up being a spy. Hope any confusion has been cleared up!
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT. You reviewers don't know the power and influence you have. I honestly wouldn't have finished this without you, so thanks for being amazing. Thank you all for following, whether as a guest or a member.
Every work of fiction I write has a song dedicated to it, and the song for RIVULET is:
Glass Heart Hymn by Paper Route
PLEASE look it up sometime, and wait like 30 seconds before you judge it, haha. It's so good and so many aspects/parts of this story were influenced by the lyrics. Seriously.
The new story I'll be posting in the near future is called 'Recruit,' which admittedly is a similar name as RIVULET, I don't why that happened. But it's very very different, a Slave AU canon story told in Arthur's perspective. The only similarity is that Uther is the bad guy again (BUT he's alive this time boys and girls, you decide if that's better or worse). The summary for it is on my author page, you should follow me if you're interested. And if you review this last chapter and include the code name 'indeed' I'll pm you a sneak peek ;)
Well, that's it. I leave it to you at this time to give back comments, criticism, praise, questions, or perhaps capital-letter screaming. Goodbye for now, my friends.
Cheers!
LifeIndeed