Archive of Our Own ^beta

Merlin gritted his teeth. His fists clenched and fought the urge to scream obscenities at the scene in front of him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes, knowing what Gaius was trying to convey.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Logically, he knew his anger was irrational, he knew that this was necessary for Camelot’s survival and well-being, and most importantly, he knew that Arthur would approve.

But that didn’t make it right.

It seemed Merlin was the only one that cared, though. Everyone around him wore happy smiles, their eyes void of the grief that had rested there for the past three months. The warlock looked down, feeling guilt rise up and choke him from within. They deserved this, he knew. This little bit of happiness after the war would go a long way in raising the spirits of the people. He knew this.

And yet. The anger still festered in his stomach and he tried vainly to push it down and smile in support of Gwen’s decision, because this was her decision, not his, and this was hard for her too.

Merlin flinched when he heard Percival start the chant. “Long live the Queen! Long live the King!”

The people rose from the pews, joining in on the cry, yelling and screaming in support. Gwen’s eyes fell on him from in front of the throne. She looked beautiful, dressed in a simpler version of the same white dress she had worn all those years ago when she had done this for the first time. Standing tall and proud, her hands holding on tightly to Leon’s, her face unreadable but still somehow kind, she stared at his clenched fists and tense postures before meeting his eyes.

He forced a small smile on his face and clapped slowly. “Long live the Queen,” he said, raising his voice. He glanced at Leon and then back to Gwen, whose face had crumpled slightly.

“Long live the King,” he whispered.

Gwen looked away.

It was the first time he had been up on the top of the castle in a long time. The breeze blew gently, and he let his gaze roam over the town beneath him. People went on with their lives, the excitement of the day wearing off hour by hour. He caught sight of a small child, blonde hair and bright smile, his dirty hand inching closer to an apple on a farmer’s cart.
“Stop, you filthy child!” An elderly man batted away his hand and chased him away with a stick. “And stay away!” he shouted. The child giggled before scampering away to meet his mother, who immediately berated him for leaving her sight.

Merlin closed his eyes. Was he the only one who couldn’t seem to let him go? Was he the only one who still remembered the striking blue eyes, the crooked smile, the warmth and safety and… friendship (he refused to let himself think it was anything more than that).

He started when the door behind him opened with an ominous creak, craning his neck to see Gaius, grumbling and brushing off his clothes hurriedly.

He turned back around and sighed. “You shouldn’t have climbed those steps with your knees, Gaius, you know that’s only going to make them worse.”

“Of course I shouldn’t have climbed those steps, boy, but you didn’t leave me any choice, did you? Coming all the way up here,” he said, now standing beside Merlin and glancing at him sideways.

“I’m fine,” said Merlin.

“Of course you are,” said Gaius soothingly. “But you also have a long history of lying about when you’re fine.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Mm-hmm.”

They stood in silence for a few moments.

“Gwen was looking for you,” said Gaius quietly.

“Oh?”

“She seemed rather unsettled when she came to talk to me. Convinced you hated her for marrying Leon.”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t hate her,” he said.

“But you aren’t extremely fond of her decision?”

Merlin’s hands went white as he held onto the wall in front of him, and he refused to meet Gaius’s knowing eyes.

“It was necessary,” he whispered. “There has to be an heir, and it made many of the council members happy.”

“Ah, yes, their distrust of the queen. If I am not mistaken, they assume that they have some semblance of control over Guinevere through Sir Leon?” Gaius asked.

Merlin snorted. “It won’t happen. Neither Leon nor Gwen will ever put too much faith in what they say.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t hate her,” said Merlin a few minutes later. “I don’t hate Leon either.”

“My dear boy,” said Gaius.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears. He turned to Gaius and rested his head on the old man’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to forget him, Gaius,” he murmured into his mentor’s robes.

“Oh, my poor boy.” Gaius ran his hand through Merlin’s unruly hair and pat his back. “Merlin, my dear boy.” The old healer held him tighter as he started to sob and said gently, “He was your life, Merlin, your destiny for a long time. Don’t forget him. Don’t forget him, but try to learn to let him go.”

Merlin paced outside Gwen’s door for a while before he worked up the courage to knock. He raised his hand when someone behind him said, “Merlin?”

He turned around and blanched when he saw Leon, his face the perfect picture of good-natured concern. “Are you alright?” he asked, frowning slightly. “You look pale.”

“No, no, I’m quite alright,” said Merlin. “Just… Just wanted to talk to Gwen for a minute. I can leave if you two… if you wanted…. I mean if you wanted to be a-alone.” He forced the words out with a slight grimace. It had never been like this with Arthur.

“It’s fine, I’ll leave you and Guinevere alone to talk for a while.” Leon smiled. He hesitated. “Thank you for understanding, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned. “Understanding? Understanding what?”

“The affection that Guinevere and I have towards each other. I know it will never be as strong or as important to her - and you - as Arthur’s was --”

“No, Leon-”
“ -- but I appreciate it all the same.”

Merlin smiled, this time genuinely. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Sir Leon.”

“Are you ever going to come in, Merlin?” He heard Gwen’s voice from inside the room.

“I’d better go,” said Merlin.

“Of course, I’ll see you later?” Leon’s eyes reflected a hopeful gleam.

“Sure,” Merlin said, nodding quite unconvincingly. He backed away then, opening the door and shooting a last smile back at Leon before closing it and sighing. Things would really never be the same again.

“Hello, Merlin.” Gwen’s voice was quiet but reached Merlin in a way no other had been able to. He turned to face her and opened his arms.

“Hi, Gwen,” he whispered back. Her face contorted and she wrapped him in her arms, pushing his face into the crook of her neck.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” she said softly. Merlin pulled back to look her in the eyes. “It’s not your fault, Gwen. You know I don’t blame you at all.”

She led him to the table and they sat down next to each other. “I know you believe it’s too early,” she started.

“Gwen -” he interrupted.

“No, let me finish,” she insisted. “I know you think I shouldn’t have moved on this quickly, but I had to, Merlin, the people were still grieving, the Council was on me about producing an heir, and Leon was right there, and he’s been so good to me since - since - you know -”

“I know,” said Merlin gently. “I know, Gwen. I just - I just can’t help but see everyone move on and forget him, like nothing ever happened, like all those years, Gwen, all those years, never happened.” He stopped, his gaze dropping to his boots. “It seems, and I know it isn’t true, but it seems like I’m the only one who misses him. Gods, I miss him.” He ducked his head even more.

She pulled him back into her embrace and held him for a long time. “You loved him, didn’t you?” she asked knowingly.

Merlin looked into her deep brown eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, Gwen, I really loved him.”

She smiled sadly. “He really loved you too, Mer. I swear to you, he loved you too.”
Merlin looked up at her questioningly. “How…?”

“We reached an agreement of sorts by the end, Arthur and I. Both of us knew we weren’t in love with each other, at least not anymore,” Gwen said ruefully. “He was too busy pretending not be in love with you and I… I don’t think I ever quite let Lancelot go. We drifted apart.” She squeezed Merlin’s hand tightly. “He was going to tell you, you know. He was so excited, and then - then Camlann - ” she broke off, closing her eyes and lifting Merlin’s hand to her heart.

“Gwen… why didn’t you tell me this before?” Merlin asked softly.

She gathered herself and looked up at Merlin with all the power and grace of a queen. “Because it wouldn’t have helped. I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing by telling you now. He was important to you, I know, you loved him, but you can’t live like this forever, Merlin. It’s not right. And Arthur wouldn’t have wanted it.”

Merlin’s face closed off instantly and he tore his hand away from Gwen’s, standing up quickly. “Gods above, you too? I’m fine, Guinevere. I’m grieving, like a normal person, you can’t blame me for being angry when everybody around me seems to have forgotten what Arthur did for us! He brought us all together, you remember, Gwen? Do you remember that day, when we pledged ourselves to him around the Round Table and gave him our loyalty? Do you remember?” he yelled.

Gwen was crying by this point. “Yes! Yes, Merlin, I remember, but you can’t do this anymore, he’s gone, you know that!”

“He’s going to come back! He is, you don’t know, but he is, Kilgharrah said so, he is, he is, he is…” Merlin hunched over, his hands covering his face.

“Merlin, your magic couldn’t save him. What the dragon said… you don’t even know if it’s true, he could have just been sparing your feelings, Merlin -”

“Fine, then.” Merlin straightened, face stained with tears, but eyes blazing with indignation and fire. “You- you can believe that, but I won’t.” He shook his head and backed away. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Merlin!” Gwen gasped.

“No, I-I have to leave. I can’t be here anymore, I can’t do this, I’m sorry, Gwen, I’m sorry.” He shook his head once more and fled from the chamber.

Gwen crumpled to the ground and sobbed. Leon, hearing all the commotion, rushed into the room, and kneeled beside the queen, taking her into his arms.

“Gwen, Gwen, what happened?”

She buried her face in his shoulder, weeping. “He’s gone, Leon. Both of them are gone.”

Merlin lived the next few years in a daze. He wandered from town to town, watched the effects of Gwen’s decision to lift the ban on magic in Camelot. He never stayed in one place for too long and used the years he had to learn as much as he possibly could about healing magic.

It wasn’t going to happen again.

He’d left Camelot the day he’d fought with Gwen. Gaius had tried to stop him, pleaded with him to stay in Camelot and not do anything drastic until he was in his right mind, but when he’d caught Percival’s gaze as he left the citadel, he knew the knight, at least, understood. Percival and Gwaine had been awfully close and Merlin knew the man wished he could leave Camelot just as Merlin had been. But he wouldn’t. Because he was braver than Merlin, stronger, and infinitely more loyal.

Merlin had known then he was being a coward, but he’d figured he deserved this one selfish thing. And so he left.

It was three years into his self-appointed exile that Merlin let himself think about what was happening in Camelot. He was serving as a healer in a small town near the border of Camelot and his last patient of the day seemed to think he cared for the gossip around town.

“-- Elena just had a baby, you know? Doesn’ know what to name it though. It’s a little bit of a problem now that he’s been out for a whole month. I mean, even the bloody queen named her kid faster and her kid has to be known across all of Camelot, right? Ow!”

Merlin grabbed a cloth to stop the bleeding from where he’d poked the boy with his needle while stitching him up. He didn’t look up, but his hand trembled slightly and he swallowed. He placed the cloth on the table and resumed stitching up the boy’s arm.

“The Queen… she gave birth to a child?” he asked nonchalantly.

The boy turned around and looked at Merlin oddly. “Yeah… she had him about two weeks ago. If you ask me, she named him somethin’ weird. I mean, the lad’s gonn’ be the prince of the kingdom one day, he should have a good, strong name, righ- Gods above, man, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” said Merlin, picking up the cloth again. “So, what’d she name him?”

“Somethin’ starting with an eh, I think, mmm what was it…” The boy trailed off in thought.

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that, who do you think I am, some royal gossip monger?”

Actually, that was exactly what Merlin thought he was.

A short while later, he was about to tell the boy to go on home when he exclaimed excitedly. “Oh right! I think I remember now.”

Merlin slapped a bandage on the boy’s arm and patted it a few times before asking, “Well? What was it?”

“Something like Emis, I think? I don’t remember exactly, but it sounded something like that,” said the boy, unaware of what this statement had done to the man stitching up his arm.

Merlin’s world turned upside down for a few seconds and he stepped back, dropping the potion he was about to hand to his patient. The loud crash shook him out of his daze and it was as if he was far away when he heard himself ask quietly, “Emrys?”

“Yeah! That’s it, innit weird?” He took in the pale, wide-eyed look his healer was giving him. “You okay, sir?”

There was a long pause before Merlin turned his back to the boy, looking for another vial of the pain-relieving potion he had been about to give him.

“I’m fine,” said Merlin. “Just… haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

Merlin had managed to convince himself that the only reason he was going back to Camelot was to visit Gaius. And the only reason he was stopping at the Lake of Avalon was that he was hoping to see Freya again; he hadn’t talked to her in years.

Both completely valid reasons. Both, in some part, were true.

He stood at the same spot he’d sat and cried for Arthur years ago and he let the satchel on his shoulder slip out of his grip. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.

“Freya?” he called.

The water rippled calmly, showing no sign that she had heard.

“Freya, you there?”

“It’s been a long time, my love.” Her voice came from beside him and he swiveled to face her. She smiled at him, as beautiful as ever, and her fingers brushed the side of his face and not for the last time, he wished he could touch her.

“You look unhappy,” she said. “Or at least, not happy.”

“It’s been a long few years,” he said, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

The smile faded from her face and she searched his face for something before turning back to the lake. “There’s someone you should talk to,” she said calmly.

Merlin cocked his head. “Who?”

Freya remained silent before finally saying, “It’s time now, my king,” and promptly disappeared.

A few seconds later, the water in front of him began to swirl, forming a whirlpool of sorts and Merlin stepped back, not quite sure what was happening. And so he stood and watched, his mouth gaping as Arthur Pendragon slowly climbed out of the lake and stepped onto the land, his eyes firmly on Merlin.

“You look terrible, Merlin,” he said, frowning “Honestly, have you eaten anything since I’ve been gone?”

Merlin took a step back. Then another. “Arthur?” he asked cautiously.

The man whose face was eerily similar to his king’s laughed and stretched his arms as if he’d been asleep for a while. “Who else would it be, Merlin? Honestly, the magic doesn’t make you any less of an idiot, does it?”

Merlin stared.

The man - Arthur? - stared back, the laughter draining from his face. He stepped forward and Merlin was oddly reminded of a man approaching a frightened animal. He stopped right in front of Merlin and lifted his hand to brush his fingers underneath Merlin’s eyes and over his cheekbones and lips in an action that was somehow infinitely more intimate than it had been when Freya did it.

Merlin closed his eyes and felt the touch on his eyelids. It finally stopped at his jaw and the hand gently lifted his face upward. Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and he ached when he saw the expression on Arthur’s face. He was smiling gently and Merlin could see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He swallowed.

Arthur moved away and took a few steps back. He sighed. “Stop, Merlin,” he said sadly.
What? “What?” asked Merlin out loud.

“You’re being an idiot,” declared Arthur.

“What?” Merlin snapped incredulously.

“It’s true,” he said. “You left Camelot, and now you’re, what, wandering from town to town doing nothing?”

“I’m healing people, you prat!” Merlin yelled.

Arthur gave him a look. He moved his jaw back and forth and let his eyes drift across the expanse of the lake. “You’ve changed,” he said. “You promised you wouldn’t change.”

“Did you really expect me not to, Arthur? You’re dead. Do you even - do you know how much of my life I spent - I loved you!” confessed Merlin.

Arthur closed his eyes. A second later he opened them, the blue orbs blazing with fire. “I love you too, Gods, I’m sorry, Merlin,” he maintained agonizingly. “But enough is enough. Go back to Camelot. Talk to Gwen, talk to Percival, talk to Gaius, for heaven's’ sake. Just don’t be alone. Please, Merlin. Don’t be alone.”

Merlin said nothing.

Arthur looked at him one last time, and whispered almost inaudibly, “Go home, idiot.” He stepped into the water and called out for Freya, who appeared almost instantly. She took Arthur’s hand and both faded away, the fog engulfing their silhouettes until Merlin could not see them anymore.

And there he stood. Alone.

Merlin fell to his knees and wept.

Camelot was vastly different now. The people had embraced magic as if it was a long-lost lover. He could see magic everywhere he looked. This was the Camelot he had imagined with Arthur.

Merlin’s eyes stopped on the knights sparring and he watched the clash of swords until the memories overwhelmed him. Leon, who was fighting with a new knight Merlin hadn’t seen before, turned and caught sight of Merlin. He stopped and they stared at each other until Merlin gave in and turned around in the direction of Gaius’s chambers.

He walked leisurely; he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Camelot, his home, until he was walking in the streets, climbing the stairs to get to Gaius. He pushed the door to his former mentor’s chambers open and instinctively smiled at the familiar voice.

“Sharin, get me the book on the table, would you? The one with a green cover.”

A girl Merlin presumed was Sharin walked out of his former room and froze, her eyes widening. She dropped the vials in her hand and jumped at the crash. Gaius turned around instantly, his jaw dropping as he caught sight of Merlin.

“Merlin?” He gaped.

Merlin smiled. “Hello, Gaius.”

Gaius blinked rapidly and quickly pulled his ward into a tight embrace. He closed his eyes and shook his head, overcome by the emotions. “It’s been too long, my boy,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “Too long indeed.”

Merlin kept silent but clung on to Gaius tighter. 

He knew he probably shouldn’t be there. But he’d been wandering around the castle, fighting back the urge to scream and thought he should address the actual reason he was here.

Emrys.

And for once he wasn’t thinking about himself, but rather the babe that Gwen, his dear friend, whom he so regretted falling out with all those years ago, had birthed.

And so he stood in the middle of her and Arthur’s old chambers and stared at the crib in front him, not daring to go closer and glimpse the baby he knew was sleeping in there. His fingers twitched at his side and he selfishly hoped that he was mistaken and that the nurse or someone had taken Emrys away for a bath or something.

But then he heard a small whimper from the crib and his heart stopped. This baby was Gwen’s son. Gwen, who he’d abandoned to a life of ruling a kingdom alone, just like Uther. He was struck with the thought that maybe Gwen had turned bitter, an ignorant parent like Uther had been. Not alone, he reminded himself. She has Leon. And Gaius and everyone else, Merlin. She’s not alone.

“You know, to actually see him, you’ll have to walk a few steps forward, right?”

He turned around, startled and saw Gwen, leaning against the door. Merlin took in her appearance: tired, dark shadows under her eyes, but laughter lines etched into the edges of her eyes and a smile as wide as it had ever been.

“Guinevere,” he breathed.

“Hello, Merlin. Long time no see,” she whispered, before clearing her throat and walking to the crib in the middle of the room. She reached her hands in and settled a squirming bundle of robes into her arms. She gestured to him to come closer, and in a daze, he did.

“Gaius told me you were back. I was wondering when you’d come to see him.” The and me was left unsaid. Merlin looked down, still silent. His caught the gaze of the wide-eyed baby and he exhaled softly. Emrys had caramel skin and deep brown eyes, but his short hair was lighter, a dirty shade of gold. Merlin knew he was going to break hearts when he grew up.

“Why?” he asked, his voice tortured.

“Why, what, Merlin?” Gwen replied gently.

He swallowed. “Why Emrys?”

She smiled. “Why the man who single-handedly saved the entirety of Camelot multiple times over? Why the most humble, sensitive, wise man I’ve ever known? Why my beloved best friend who couldn’t bear to see the people around him unhappy so he kept quiet about his love for years?” She stepped closer. “Why not, Merlin?”

His breath caught in his throat and he let out a hacking sob. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“Oh, Merlin. I forgave you the moment you left Camelot.”

He pulled himself together, tears tracks still visible on his face. “Arthur would be proud, Gwen, I swear to you, he would be proud.”

Now her eyes were tearing up. “I know, Merlin. He would be proud of you too.”

“I’m sorry, Gwen,” he repeated.

“It’s okay, Merlin.” Her smile waned. “Are you staying?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded. “Yeah, Gwen.” He looked to Emrys and offered him a finger to play with. “I think I’m staying.”