An Ancient Tale May Later Words Retell by d

13.03.09 | 15 | Gwen/Arthur, Merlin | Het | 18,109 words

Summary: There are many untrue stories about Camelot. This could be one of them.
Warnings: Fairly angst-ridden.Gwen/Arthur is the primary pairing in this story, but other pairings are alluded to also.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: Big thank you to Suz and Nel for taking a look at this in its early wtf stages. And an extra dollop of thanks to Nel for the beta.

Archived at AO3 | Download as PDF | Download as RTF

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An ancient tale may later words retell,
Time's sure oblivion somewhat to delay;
Though in the shadows of a faithless day,
For one bright moment somewhat to repel
The meaner voices that themselves betray.

A tale of far dim days, vital with youth,
Of earliest Britain first as empire deemed.
No man may part the legend from the truth,
Nor say who lived, nor whom romance hath dreamed.
Through fluctuant clouds the enchanted dawn appears,
Red with the rose of honour: blind with tears.

The Song Of Arthur - S. Fowler Wright

*

There's laughter when Viviane drops down on her blanket by the fire. Looks like the drinking started before the sun even went down. "What's so funny?"

"Old man's got stories," Bryan says with a laugh.

Viviane turns to the old man they picked up a day ago. He's like death on legs, but he still keeps moving, says he's going home. Says he's kept a small part of his life just to make this journey. They all think he's mad.

"What kind of stories?" Viviane asks. "Not better than the ones we tell, I'm sure."

Everyone around the fire laughs. They are all fine tellers of tales. The old man looks up from the shadow of his hooded cape. His skin is wrinkled beyond belief, his beard long and white, but his eyes are bright, like they belong to a young man. Under the beard, Viviane can make out a small smile.

"Not stories, my dear," he says. "Memories."

Elaine plops down next to the old man and says, "Camelot was a long time ago. There's no one left with memories of that place."

The old man laughs quietly. "I wish it were true."

"Says he knew King Arthur," Bryan says, much too amused. "Says he knew all of them."

Viviane leans back against her horse's saddle. "No one could have known all of them. And, if you did, that would make you—"

"Old," the man replies. "Very old." They're all laughing, but doesn't seem to bother him.

"There's nothing there anymore," Guy says, sitting down opposite Viviane, giving her a moody glance. "Just rocks and grass."

The old man smiles. "I make a pilgrimage to Arthur and Guinevere's last resting place. There does not need to be anything there."

"Old man, Guinevere's remains were taken to her native land," Bryan scoffs. "And everyone knows Arthur's tomb is miles in a different direction."

"Because you buried them yourself, didn't you?" Elaine says, rolling her eyes at Bryan, while Guy laughs and gives sulking Bryan a good shove.

The old man smiles at the tomfoolery and says, "Native land? My dear boy, Camelot was her native land."

Bryan shakes his head. "No, Queen Guinevere returned to her father, King Leodegrance."

The old man sighs so loud everyone laughs at Bryan. "I really had hoped the lies would begin after I died," he says. "I am sure Arthur and Gwen are somewhere, laughing about this."

"Gwen?" Viviane laughs. "You're trying to tell me you yourself spoke to Queen Guinevere as if she were some commoner?"

The old man looks at Viviane as if she's particularly stupid.

*

Gwen would remember Arthur's coronation for years to come. Watching him walk into the cathedral, the court divided in two, either side of him. There was such determination in his face, his eyes steely with purpose. He knelt on one knee, bowing his head and accepting the crown, watched by kings, noblemen and commoners alike.

Gwen had watched from far away, hope swelling in her chest as Arthur raised Excalibur and swore by Camelot to do his duty as king.

The knights cheered first, leading everyone to join in wishing the new king a long life before everyone was herded out towards the feast in the castle, which continued throughout the night until the early hours of the morning, the musicians never tiring of playing.

Gwen stayed on the fringes of the feast, there as an attendant. She watched Arthur amiably smile and converse politely with whomever happened his way. But when no one was watching, she saw the loneliness creep into his face. Maybe Gwen wouldn't have noticed too, just like everyone else, but this was a loneliness they both shared. They mourned the loss of the same people.

She wanted to go to him and tell him she knew he would be a fine king, but her role here was to serve and be ignored. No opportunity seemed right for her to take a moment of his time, when there were so many other self-important people already vying for his attention. When the opportunity finally came, it warmed her that it was Arthur who seeked her out.

"Don't go," he said, slurring ever so slightly.

Gwen turned to see him looking at her with a lopsided smile. Gwen curtsied. "Sire."

"You were about to leave," he accused her with good humour.

Gwen nodded. "Well, my work is done."

Arthur smiled. "I don't suppose you have any other reason to be here besides work."

Gwen smiled back. "I wanted to offer my good wishes to the king. But he has been engaged all night. Rightfully so." Arthur gave her long appraising look which made Gwen want to fidget. Instead she told him, "I should go now."

Arthur nodded. "You've been keeping yourself quite hidden lately."

Gwen shook her head. "There's not much call for me out of the kitchens these days."

"What about your father's trade?" Arthur asked. "You know it well, don't you?"

"You'll be surprised by how many people go to a woman for that kind of thing," Gwen said, her face suddenly feeling heated.

Arthur's smile was slow to appear. He nodded and said, "Well, it's of no consequence. If you're to work for me, I can't have anyone else taking up your time."

Gwen frowned. "I don't understand."

"Open up your father's workshop." When Gwen continued to stare, he said, "You don't belong in the kitchens," and then lazily walked away, downing the rest of the wine in his goblet.

Gwen would have spent more time on her confusion, but truth be told, she was useless in the kitchens anyway.

*

They had grown closer over the years, trying to forget lost friends. Gwen gave Arthur good council and in return he chased off unwanted attention. Sometimes even wanted attention, actually. Women much younger than Gwen were married, with children tugging on their dresses. And Gwen? She was left haunting Morgana's chambers. But she couldn't imagine being married either. What kind of man would he be? Could he ever be the kind of man she wanted?

Arthur asked similar questions. Well, not about what kind of man, obviously, but what kind of woman would make a good queen? Every potential consort who came to visit Camelot left him disappointed. Most people thought the newly crowned king was just being picky, but Gwen knew he was looking for a way to chase away his loneliness, not just cementing relations with allies or marrying a woman who had been bred to be a silent figurehead.

"Maybe you are just being picky," she told him once, sharpening a sword as he watched.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Who is king?"

Gwen smiled. "Sorry. Sire. I mean, you're absolutely right. About everything."

He didn't object to her mockery, though he did persist in being irritating on occasion. He particularly liked to reveal afflictions some of the knights were suffering from. Especially if he caught Gwen looking in their direction.

"I wouldn't bother. I hear he has at least ten illegitimate children," Arthur once said, creeping up behind her as she watched a particular knight in training. "And a fondness for sheep."

"He does not," she said, staring at the grinning knight.

"The woollier the better, I hear," Arthur said.

"This isn't behaviour befitting a king, you know," Gwen pointed out.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, I'm not wearing my crown right now, so..."

Gwen laughed. She always laughed. The way he caught her in his disarming smiles had been quite inevitable. Sometimes she caught him watching her, when he thought she didn't know his eyes were on her and it made her skin heat under her clothes as if she was standing too close to a fire. If only Merlin and Morgana had been here to mercilessly tease her about it.

*

"Do you think about them?" Gwen asked sometimes, because he never said anything. Sometimes he got this faraway look, like he had just lost something very valuable, but he never said anything.

"No," Arthur replied, suitably distracted, allowing Gwen to knock his weapon from his hand and trip him onto his back.

"Really?" she asked. She could always tell he was lying. He always answered too quickly, like he didn't want to think about it and right now the lie and cost him his sword.

He resentfully looked up at the sword pointed at him. "Yes. Really."

"I think about them," she said.

Arthur's expression was unreadable, his eyes on Gwen's blade. Of course, focused on one end of Arthur's body, Gwen didn't notice his legs, or how they got the opportunity to kick her legs from under, Arthur catching her sword and jumping to his feet.

She stared up at him, mouth hanging open in shock at the blatant deceitfulness of his move. He shrugged and told her, "What? You wanted to learn."

Gwen stood up and gave him an unimpressed look. She considered herself suitably chastised for making Arthur remember he was human.

"No wonder you can't find a wife," Gwen muttered, rubbing her back.

He looked at her, froze in slight shock and then laughed. "Just pick up your sword. Unless you're sure you don't want to stick to just making them."

Gwen glared and picked up her sword. "Merlin was right. You really are a prat. Sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed. "And like I told Merlin, adding 'Sire' to the end of an insult doesn't make it any less insulting."

*

Viviane laughs. "The Queen of Camelot made swords. You didn't say this tale was a comedy."

"She forged the most famous sword known throughout Albion," the old man says.

"Nonsense," Bryan says. "Everyone knows the Lady of the--"

The old man lets loose another sigh. "Some of these stories really are ridiculous. The sword did not come from any lake. It was made by Gwen. It was her most treasured sword."

"The Queen," Viviane says flatly. "The Queen made the sword."

"Yes," the old man replies and then somewhat mumbles, "A dragon may have helped too."

"What?"

"It's complicated."

*

"You should have heard her," Arthur complained, another meeting with a potential bride having failed. "She said the castle was too gloomy. Started talking about drapery."

Gwen pulled a face. "It's not gloomy. It's got character."

"Thank you," Arthur said. "Try telling her that."

Gwen smiled at Arthur, watching him make faces. He still looked annoyingly dashing no matter what silly face he pulled. His hair was slightly longer these days and the stubble never disappeared completely, but mostly he was still Arthur.

"What?" Arthur asked with a small smile. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Gwen shook her head, taking his sword from where it lay on the table. "Nothing. I just worry about you sometimes."

Arthur's smile didn't disappear, but it did become a little more brittle. "Someone should, I suppose."

"Arthur--"

"Let's not," Arthur said, getting up. "Let's saddle up and go for a ride instead."

"In the middle of the night?" Gwen asked. "Don't you think people talk enough?"

"There's only one solution to that," Arthur said, giving her an annoyingly innocent look. "Marry me."

Gwen nodded. "I can't. I said I'd fix your sword, remember? Sleep well." She turned away and grinned, hearing his huff of laughter.

"Guinevere," he called after her.

"What?" She smiled and turned, giving him a look.

"You're supposed to ask for my leave," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "And I didn't say you could go."

"Sire, may I go please?" she asked, sounding quite put upon.

"No," he said, smiling softly, looking at least ten years younger, that boy Camelot couldn't wait to see as king.

Gwen nodded. "Sleep well, Sire."

And despite how much she wanted to stay, Gwen left while there were still enough people to see her retire to her chambers.

*

"So, she made swords for him and he was making eyes at her," Bryan says, still not believing any of this. "I don't understand. If he only ever used Excalibur, what was the point of her making all these swords for him?"

The old man smiles. "Yes, that is quite an interesting question."

Viviane smiled. She knows this tale all right. The knight who loves a lady in most strange and original ways. It's nothing new and the old man is fooling no one. Except Bryan maybe.

"So how did she go from making his swords to becoming queen?" Elaine asks with a frown.

The old man nods. "Yes. That is another interesting question."

*

Arthur married Gwen. It was sudden. One moment she was watching the attendants serve King Leodegrance's guests and the next moment Arthur was doing something incredibly hot-headed and foolish.

"Who is to say you will not treat your allies the way your father did?" Leodegrance said.

"I am not my father," Arthur said. "Even so, he did what he did for the love of Camelot. I do what I do for the same reason."

Leodegrance smiled, but Gwen saw the mockery in his eyes. "I am sure your subjects feel the same."

Arthur looked suitably stung. "They do," Gwen found herself blurting out, feeling angry and defiant, mostly hating Leodegrance. "Forgive me for being forward, but the people of Camelot love their king."

"I fear the opinion of a commoner does not stand for much," Leodegrance said with a snort, unwilling to see Arthur separately from his father and the poor from the rich.

Arthur was quiet though, staring at Leodegrance. She watched him swallow down his anger, his jaw clenched firmly. "A moment to speak with my commoner?"

Leodegrance laughed. "Please. By all means."

Arthur went to Guinevere, taking her by the arm as everyone watched him, trying to make out his hushed words. "I have an idea. I admit it's rather unconventional, but I think you'll like it." Gwen frowned at him. "Marry me."

"What?" Gwen hissed.

"Okay, fine, we'll just stand here and let him insult us all night," Arthur said.

"I don't think you're hearing the words coming out of your mouth. Sire."

"Gwen," Arthur said with an odd smile. "Marry me. If not for anything else, then at the very least to quell the rumours that are tarnishing my maidenly honour."

Gwen laughed against her will. "I think you're mad."

Arthur nodded. "Probably. Well? What do you say? Fancy being queen?"

Gwen blinked at him and then shook her head in disbelief. "Yes?"

Arthur winked at her and then stood back with rather kingly flourish. "Guinevere," he said loudly for the court to hear as he took her hand. "I'm not asking you this as your king. I am asking you as a man would ask a woman. Will you be my bride?"

Gwen didn't need to look around to know all eyes were on her. They were all waiting to see if she would prove Arthur a liar. She nodded. "I will."

Arthur turned to Leodegrance and said, "The crown and people of Camelot are one. Perhaps you'll listen to a commoner now." Then he turned to the nearest solider and said, "We'll be needing a priest."

*

"Did you see his face?" Arthur almost crowed. "He looked like a complete idiot." Then he turned and grinned at Gwen, brimming with pride.

"You did this all just to shut him up, didn't you?" Gwen said, shaking her head. "Not that I'm complaining. I imagine it's quite nice being queen." Because Uther Pendragon would be screaming in his tomb at the very thought of it.

"Well, yes," Arthur said with a nod. "But I also thought I should make the most of a good opportunity and use Leodegrance to get myself a bride."

Gwen gave him a look. "It wasn't much of a proposal."

"No, I suppose not." Arthur stepped forward and grabbed Gwen's hands quite suddenly. Then he lowered himself to one knee and gazed up at her. "Guinevere. I think I can say with some degree of certainty that you are by far my most favourite person here, which is why I'd like you to consider taking pity on me and saving me from a dreary life that would no doubt consist of listening to the product of noble stock on how drapery can change my life."

Gwen smiled. "Nobody would marry you with that proposal."

"Thought as much." Arthur got up, but kept a hold of one of her hands, giving her an earnest look. "I know you love your king. But believe me when I tell you this... your king loves you very much too. So... you know, be queen. It'll be fun."

Gwen looked at the sheepish smile on Arthur's face, his flushed cheeks, and she laughed. "Fun."

"Absolutely. Anyway, who else would have me?" Arthur asked with a strange smile, like he actually believed what he was saying.

"Everyone," Gwen said. "Who wouldn't have you?"

"Would you?" Arthur asked.

Gwen shook her head seriously. "No. I meant everyone except me."

Arthur laughed. "Very funny."

They were quiet for a while, maybe both of them aware that Arthur was still holding Gwen's hand in both of his and the intimacy of it had suddenly dawned on them. Gwen looked up at him, to find his eyes gazing as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. She saw him swallow and step back, letting go of her hand.

She smiled. "Well... this should be interesting, I suppose."

"At the very least," he said. "And don't worry. I won't be asserting any marital privileges against your will. Your honour is quite safe with me."

Gwen laughed at him. "It is?"

"Absolutely," Arthur said with a nod. "My real concern is whether my honour is safe with you."

Gwen shook her head at him. "You can take the floor."

Arthur frowned. "I'm the King."

Gwen gave him a look. "Well, the Queen can't sleep on the floor."

Arthur frowned at her with a look that said he clearly hadn't considered many things about this marriage.

*

Arthur's bed was huge. And very comfortable. And Gwen had wrapped herself up in blankets, lying blissfully across the bed, her pillow on the edge and her face pressed into it with a content smile.

"I wasn't worried, you know," she whispered into the dark.

"Hmm?"

Gwen poked her head over the edge of the bed to look at the floor where Arthur lay on some thin blankets, fingers linked behind his head and eyes staring up at the ceiling. He seemed a stranger, lost in faraway thought and lit blue in the moonlight. How many kings would sleep on a cold stone floor she wondered, calling herself a silly little girl for feeling so easily charmed.

"About you asserting your marital privileges. Or my honour for that matter," Gwen said, watching him.

He frowned and turned to look up at her. "You weren't?" Then he looked a little offended. "Why not? Surely I strike fear into man, maiden and beast alike."

"Well, firstly, I know how to make swords," she said, smiling when he smiled. "And secondly... besides being a good king and warrior, you're... you're a good man."

He blinked up at her with a wry smile. "More please."

Gwen smiled. "And you make me laugh. Sometimes."

"And?" he asked her slowly.

"And... against my will, I admit you can be quite charming too."

"Really?" he said, obviously pleased. "How charming?"

"How do you mean, how?" Gwen asked.

"Charming enough for a nice shiny new sword perhaps?"

"I'm queen now. I can't make you swords," Gwen explained.

"But it's the sole reason I married you," Arthur said. Gwen reached down and pinched his arm, hard. He groaned and laughed. "Well. Maybe some other reasons too."

Gwen propped her chin on the back of her hand, looking down at Arthur. "Really?"

Arthur sniffed at the question. "Goodnight, Gwen."

Gwen frowned. "That's hardly fair. Well, I suppose in that case I'll just leave you on the floor for the night and not share this scandalously large bed with you. Ever." Gwen turned her back on Arthur and closed her eyes.

"I think... you're quite beautiful," Arthur said. Gwen opened her eyes and smiled. "Smart too," he added, in a matter of fact voice. "Even if you were stupid enough to marry me." Gwen clamped her mouth shut against the silly smile. "And you make me laugh," he said, his voice unable to hide his smile. "Mostly at you though."

Gwen grabbed a pillow and smacked the King of Camelot in the face.

*

"You're lying," Bryan says shaking his head. "Everyone knows they met at a feast. She caught his eye and he courted her by performing great feats and finally they wed when she couldn't resist him any longer. It's in the songs. And, she was a bloody princess, of noble birth. Not some commoner."

The old man arches a thick brow at Bryan. "Do you have something against commoners?"

Guy laughs as Bryan squirms. "Don't mind him, old man. You just ruined his fantasy, is all."

Bryan all but pouts. "Shut up, Guy. You ruin everything."

"He is right though," Elaine says, huddling in her blanket. "I mean, Bryan."

"About what?" Viviane asks.

"Well, everyone's heard the tale how Guinevere visited Camelot and she saw Arthur training his knights and he was so tall and so handsome with sun-kissed skin, eyes like dark gems and hair like the feathers of a raven's wing. And Arthur saw Guinevere and became enchanted with her locks of golden hair and her bright sky blue eyes and tilted smile." Elaine sighs and smiles, like she's the one about to marry Arthur.

They all look at the old man who seems stunned into silence. Then something appears to dawn on him and he starts laughing so hard he's having to grip Guy's shoulder to stop himself from toppling over. Viviane can't help but grin, while Guy is laughing. Elaine looks a little insulted and Bryan just stares.

*

There was much ceremony and pomp and then dancing and feasting and Gwen just watched Arthur all night, a smile lighting up his face and making him young again. His smile really was the best thing about the whole day. Her dress had been too heavy and too tight to enjoy its beauty. Her jewels made her feel weighed down, almost like wearing manacles. The heirs and graces of the court became tiresome. She felt like a maid in a nice dress. It was all so familiar and yet so strange.

Except for Arthur. One look at him and she didn't feel so giddy, the world slowing back down again, straightening itself from the tilt where she'd been viewing everything. He caught her gaze and looked at her as she danced, quite helpless in the circle of women holding her hands. He seemed to find it amusing that she was stuck in this dance, which only seemed interesting from the outside. She smiled back all the same and bowed her head slightly. The corner of Arthur's mouth lifted in a smile and he bowed his head in return.

How she wished Merlin and Morgana could have been here to tease the newly-weds about their coy looks.

*

On their first night together, Gwen was wearing a modest white nightgown, her hair falling about her shoulders and Arthur stood before her, shirt cast aside, old and new scars on display. He fingered her hair and stroked her face before Gwen couldn't take any more of his gentleness and took his hand, tightening her fingers around it, holding it to her face as she reached to touch a scar high on his chest. She wanted to rub it out. She wanted to rub out all those pale shiny lines that had caused him any pain. And all the scars she couldn't see.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," he said quietly, a fond smile on his face.

She looked up at him and asked in earnest, "Doesn't it?"

And Arthur was no fool because he knew what she was asking and the sting of pain made his eyes look glassy, making his voice thick when he answered, "No."

Gwen nodded, feeling a little breathless. "I'm going to kiss you."

Arthur laughed, clearly a little taken aback, smiling as she reached for him and pressed her mouth to his. And then the kiss ended, beginning another and another. And Arthur's fingers were delicate as they pushed her nightgown off her shoulder, his lips soft on her skin. She smiled, her fingers in his short hair as he held her close. When they pulled apart she took his hand and she took him to their bed.

*

If she thought about it, Gwen had all the things she once thought she could never have. The clothes she would have been washing. The food that was once too rich for her to eat. The jewels some may have deemed her not fit to polish. Most sweetly, she had the bows of servants who never liked her. They sank low and she swept past.

Most importantly, she had Arthur.

*

"Well, you are in good form today," Arthur said, deflecting another blow.

"Good sword," Gwen said, pulling back, twisting around as she anticipated Arthur's usual forward thrust.

"What? Is it like... like a girl sword, or something?" he asked between breaths, having the audacity to grin instead of be worn out like any other normal person.

Gwen felt a flare of anger and she waited for Arthur to come to her to disarm as was his tactic. It all had to be force and strength with him. And he came and Gwen spun about, smacked a candle holder with her sword, watched it land on the floor, watched Arthur turn and trip right over it, his sword falling from his hand and sliding across the floor, right past Gwen's feet.

He looked up at her from where he lay on his stomach, mouth slightly open. Then quite hoarsely he said, "Send out the guards."

Gwen nodded to the guards at the door and they left hastily. Arthur was already on his feet when she turned to face him. He knocked her sword from her hand and then took her face before kissing her hard. Gwen grinned and took a hold of the front of his shirt, pulling it apart.

Then she stilled, pulling back and frowning at Arthur. "This isn't how you train all your knights is it?"

Arthur grinned and pulled her back. "Just the very good ones, Sir Gwen."

Lying on floor later, Gwen smiled, stroking Arthur's arm which was lazy yet possessive around her waist. Warm summer sun was pouring in through the window, keeping their cooling bodies warm. As Arthur held her close and whispered something silly in her ear, she laughed and wished it would always be like this.

But everything changed. Eventually, everything always changed.

*

"I'm not listening to this," Bryan says, standing up. "Now, you're trying to tell me there was no Sir Gawain?"

The old man seems to look a little confused. "I'm sorry, who?"

Bryan stares at him. "There are tales of Gawain. He was a most honourable knight, beloved to the King. The King, rest his most noble soul, died in Gawain's arms. There are songs that speak of their love!"

Viviane watches Bryan for a while. It's quite amusing the way he can go this red and look like a petulant child while being quite a behemoth of a man.

The old man frowns at Bryan and says, "Clearly I have upset you."

"Put him out of his misery, old man," Guy says. "We all know the tales of Gawain. He was the king's most favoured knight."

The old man's gaze shifts to Guy. "I never knew a Gawain."

He's quite serious about his claim, which makes Elaine sit up and frown at him. "You're saying Gawain was Gwen?" She gasps, clapping her hands together and grinning in delight.

"Don't listen to him!" Bryan objects.

The old man shakes his head. "I am just saying there was no Gawain."

Bryan turns to Guy and angrily points at him. "Next time you want to pick strangers, I am going to kick your behind." Then he sits down and sulks. "No Gawain. What rubbish. Next you'll say there was no Lancelot."

"I'm sorry, who?" the old man asked.

"Oi!" Bryan stands up and shouts.

"Will you calm yourself?" Guy says.

"It's not right. Some woman running around pretending to be a knight. It's indecent if you ask me," Bryan says, sitting back down.

"Well, no one's asking you," Viviane says, before turning back to the storyteller. "Not that I believe you either."

"What you believe is irrelevant," is the tart reply. "What was, was, and what wasn't, well, wasn't."

Bryan throws the old man a dirty look. "What?"

"Not important," the old man says, making Viviane laugh.

"What about the sorcerer?" Viviane asks, ignoring Bryan's sulk and Elaine's glee. "You've said nothing of him. Yet he's usually at the centre of all the tales of Camelot."

"The sorcerer," the old man says. "He... was away for some time. But he returned to Camelot."

"Tell us about him," Guy says. "He was always my favourite."

The old smiles and says, "He was nothing special."

*

Gwen was gazing into the courtyard when it happened. Her maid had taken her leave, her belly too swollen for her to keep working. Gwen knew when she would tell Arthur, he would pretend not to care. He would make jokes about hating children. About not wanting to share Gwen with some little brat one day. Pretending to be thankful that they had each other to themselves, when she knew being childless hurt him as much as it hurt her.

Gwen stood at the window, watching Camelot be Camelot, when there was a commotion. She stiffened as she heard the gallop of horses. She didn't have to see Arthur to know something had happened to him. She could feel it in the pit of stomach that something was wrong.

The knights entered the castle, the sound of their arrival like thunder. The sound of their boots and armour warned everyone out of their path as they made their way, Gwen running into the hall to see their approach. She couldn't see Arthur. She knew he was somewhere between then, purposely shielded from prying eyes.

Gwen ran to the front of this morbid procession, trying to see past the knight who had taken charge. "What's happened?" she demanded.

"My lady, we must get the King to his chambers. Then I will tell you everything," he said quietly.

She nodded. "Fine." And then she led the way.

*

The most awful of memories came flooding back, of waiting by Arthur's bedside as he lay barely conscious and restless with pain, blood seeping through his bandages. Gwen sat much the same as Uther when he had carried out a bedside vigil all those years ago.

Arthur hadn't spoken since they brought him and the bandage around his torso bloomed red no matter how many times it was changed, the wound refusing to heal. An enchanted sword had caused it. Nothing about the wound changed, nothing stopped the flow of the bleeding. Arthur lay pale and slowly dying from a wound that shouldn't have been able to kill him. This was something he could have survived if magic hadn't meddled, she thought, sitting alone by his side.

Her father had been snatched from her and wasn't here to comfort her. There was no Morgana here, her hand reassuring on Gwen's shoulder. There was no Gaius to embrace her like her father would have, to tell her all would be well. And there was no Merlin who would have turned the world upside down to find a way to save Arthur.

Gwen cursed the kind of magic that would do this. Maybe she cursed all magic. Maybe Uther Pendragon in his infinite wisdom had been right the whole time. Now people were free to practice and learn the ways of magic and Arthur lay dying because of it.

"My lady, I am at a loss for what more I can do," the physician told her, his expression grim.

Gwen nodded slowly. "Send out word the King is gravely ill."

"My lady? Is that wise?" The question came from one of Arthur's advisers. She wondered how many of them were waiting for him to die, to give up Camelot to their greedy hands.

"Let everyone know I will reward anyone who can save the King's life," Gwen continued. "By magic or medicine."

"My lady--"

"Go," Gwen said, clasping Arthur's limp hand.

"Yes, my lady," came the reply, full of resentment.

"Leave us," she said to the physician.

When they left, Gwen got up and brought a bowl of water to the bed. She wet a cloth in the water, wringing it to leave it just damp enough before she mopped Arthur's brow before stroking his too warm face.

"It's not time yet," she said quietly. "Don't you even dare think of going anywhere."

Arthur turned his face towards her in his sleep, so she kept talking to him until night fell.

*

Gwen awoke when a crack of thunder seemed to shake the castle to its core. She sat up from Arthur's side with a gasp, her eyes going to the open windows. It was dark outside and the rain was falling hard and angry. Mad thoughts were spiralling through Gwen's head, thoughts about something terrible coming for Arthur.

She closed the windows and went back to his side just as voices became raised outside Arthur's chambers. She could hear the guards arguing and footsteps coming closer. Gwen watched the doors with a frown. She saw a bright blue flash in the gap between them and the floor. She heard the thump of bodies falling to the floor and everything went quiet. Gwen moved swiftly from the bed, her hand finding Arthur's sword as she went to stand between Arthur and the intruder who had made it this far.

The doors swung open simultaneously, as if someone had rammed them hard. A man strode in, drenched from the storm outside, his long coat wet and heavy looking. His black hair was long and straggly, almost reaching his shoulders and his face was covered with an unkempt black beard that only just hid part of a scar that started on his jaw and went all the way up his cheek, missing his eye, and continuing back up on his brow. In his hand he held a long wooden staff with intricate carvings that curved around the length of it, disappearing into a spherical frame that surrounded a blue gem at the top.

"Gwen," he said.

The sword fell from her hand as she rushed to embrace Merlin.

*

Arthur opened his eyes two days later. The gash in his side was finally beginning to heal and the colour had started creeping back into his cheeks. Gwen watched him for a while as he silently lay there blinking up at the canopy of the bed, something most definitely on his mind. Somehow he knew. She didn't know how, but he knew.

He looked at Gwen with tired eyes as he asked her, "Where is he?"

*

Arthur made his way through the castle with a trail of people begging him to stay in bed and not risk aggravating his injury. He looked a sight, hand clutching his side, face pale and sweaty as he stalked towards Gaius's old abode. His shirt was unlaced and sloppily thrown on and he'd barely waited for Gwen to finish helping him put his breeches on. It was a wonder he'd bothered to put his boots on at all.

"Sire, you are still very weak," his physician was saying. "I insist you rest."

"Sire. We can have this man brought to you," one of his knight's suggested.

Arthur ignored them, grimacing through the pain as he descended down the steps of the castle. He stumbled near the bottom, but Gwen slipped under his arm, offering him her shoulder as she took his hand. Arthur looked at her. She smiled and nodded. Arthur nodded back and let her help him the rest of the way.

They both all but stumbled into what was once Gaius's home. It was empty, but the smell of recently cooked food was still lingering and the door to Merlin's old room was slightly ajar. Arthur withdrew from Gwen's hold, looking around at the place, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked frustrated, angry perhaps. She sighed when his hand went back to his side where a small splotch of red had appeared.

"Well?" Arthur snapped. "Show yourself!"

A moment later the door to Merlin's room opened a little more and he came down the steps. He didn't look as frightful as he had the other night. The years had filled him out a little, though it was very little, and his body appeared to be a walking talking tale of the things he had done away from Camelot. His hand had discoloured patches. He wore charms around his neck and wrists. His clothes were old and worn, the earthy blue of his tunic and brown of his breeches fading fast.

"I did not need your help," Arthur said quietly.

"Arthur," Gwen said. "Yes, you did."

"Stay out of this, Gwen," Arthur said.

"He's my friend too," Gwen said evenly.

Arthur turned to her. "Was," he said, pointing at her. "He was your friend. Because if you'll remember, he left."

"Arthur--" Merlin attempted to speak.

"Without a word," Arthur said, pointing at Merlin. "You broke a vow to me and you left."

"I had to go after her," Merlin said, unapologetic.

"I asked you not to," Arthur said, his hand clutching at his side.

"Someone had to," Merlin said. "Someone who wasn't going to try and kill her on first sight."

"You mean, someone who'd rather get themselves killed." Arthur let out a grunt of pain, pulling his hand away from his side and looking annoyed at the blood that had seeped through his shirt. Gwen stepped towards him as he began to fall, but Merlin was quicker, darting forward and catching Arthur, a softness in his eyes as he looked at the King. Arthur pulled away, one hand reaching for Gwen, the other bloody and pointing at Merlin.

"I don't need you here," Arthur said. "Once the storm passes, you can go wherever it is you want to go."

Merlin was still and calm, like all these years he'd simply been learning how to turn to stone, while Arthur turned away, taking Gwen with him.

*

This felt liked the longest night of the year, the sky refusing to be anything other than pitch black, the sun refusing to rise, the stormy weather unending. Arthur's wound had stopped bleeding, but he lay in bed looking exhausted and morose. It wasn't the mood Gwen had imagined all those times she thought of Merlin or Morgana returning.

Finally, when his vacant staring into space became intolerable, Gwen turned from the window and said, "I told him to go." Arthur clenched his jaw and continued staring at nothing. "I asked him to go after her."

"He made me a vow. Then he broke it."

"And he made me a vow he would find her," Gwen said. "He wasn't just your friend, Arthur." Arthur was silent. "I don't want him to leave again. Please don't make him leave."

Arthur snorted. He turned onto his good side with a sharp intake of breath before presenting her with his back. "I wouldn't worry. It's quite apparent he does what he wants."

Gwen turned back to the window, wondering why they weren't celebrating or laughing right now. They should have been wrapped in each other's arms. Instead, she stood here cold and Arthur lay there in pain.

*

The next morning Gwen stepped out of Arthur's chambers to go straight to Merlin, but he was waiting outside in the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He straightened up when he saw Gwen, nodding to her.

"How is he?" Merlin asked.

Gwen looked to the guards posted either side of the doors, the same from the night before. She nodded to Merlin. "Better. But I'd still like you to take a look."

"If he'll let me anywhere near him," Merlin said with a crooked smile.

Gwen looked at him for a while before damning the guards and whoever else saw. She took Merlin by his hand. "Come with me."

They walked a while before Gwen opened the door to Arthur's older chambers and pulled Merlin inside. When she let go of him, Merlin turned and looked around the slightly dusty and forgotten room. His eyes went soft and liquid before his face suddenly closed up altogether and he faced her.

"Something is on your mind, my lady?" he asked politely.

"I'm going to hit you very hard if you call me that again," Gwen said.

Merlin laughed, showing his old grin, childish and sweet. Then he nodded and said with a smile, "So. Queen of Camelot. A bit strange?"

Gwen laughed and nodded. "A little. Not as much as it used to be."

Merlin looked at the door and frowned. "Arthur looks scary."

Gwen poked Merlin and pointed out, "Merlin? So do you."

Merlin looked confused for a moment and then scratched his beard. "Oh. Right. Well, you look different too. But good different. Really good."

Gwen smiled at him and looked down at her hands. They weren't as smooth as they used to be, though far from old. But soon age would start creeping up on them. "No one stays the same."

"No," Merlin said, sounding as if his thoughts were faraway. "They don't."

Gwen looked up at him. "You're not going leave, are you?"

Merlin shook his head. "Where would I go?"

"Where have you been all this time?"

"Close," Merlin said. "As close as I could be without actually being here."

Gwen took his hand again. "Why didn't you just come back?"

Merlin appeared to think the question over before resignedly sitting down on the edge of the dusty bed. "I didn't know how. Didn't know what I'd tell Arthur. What I'd tell you."

Gwen stepped towards him tentatively. "Did you find her?" The way Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath suggested he'd certainly found something. "Tell me."

"She's not the same Morgana, Gwen. She'll never be the same," Merlin said.

"She wasn't well, Merlin. You don't know--"

"I do," Merlin said firmly. "Trust me. I know. She wants to see Camelot in ruins."

Gwen shook her head. "No. Morgana would never want that."

Merlin stood up and gave Gwen a firm look. "The Morgana we once knew would never want that. She's not the same person."

"Take me to her," Gwen said, her hand tightening around Merlin's. "I want to see her."

"She won't know you. She'll only see the Queen of Camelot."

"No," Gwen said. "You don't know her like I do."

"Gwen, the Morgana you knew is gone," Merlin said. "The woman you want to meet is powerful and she's angry."

"Why?" Gwen and Merlin both turned around to see Arthur pushing the door open and stepping inside. He looked steadier than the night before, though he his stance indicated he was favouring one side to carry his weight. "Why is she angry?"

"Maybe because Uther tried to have her killed," Gwen said, feeling an old bitterness resurface all too quick.

"My father was many undesirable things," Arthur said evenly. "But he loved Morgana like a daughter. Sometimes I thought he loved her more than his own son."

"But he hated magic," Gwen said. "And he knew she was different."

"He wouldn't have ordered her death," Arthur said.

"He had my father killed on mere suspicion, Sire," Gwen said. "Or perhaps you'd forgotten."

"Morgana plunged a sword into my father's heart, perhaps you've forgotten," Arthur said. His eyes flicked briefly to Merlin and then back to Gwen. "You'd think that would have diffused her anger somewhat."

Arthur turned his back on both of them and walked out.

*

All eyes are on the storyteller again. There's pain in his eyes, as if he really was there. As if this isn't just a tale being spun around a camp-fire.

"I always heard Uther died in battle," Bryan says quietly, though the doubt is easy to read on his face. "Arthur comes back home in the middle of battle and finds Uther dying, becomes king."

The old man nods. "Certainly better than being murdered by your ward in a fit of madness."

"I've heard of Morgan," Viviane says. "She was a druid or something."

"Morgana," the old man corrects Bryan, "was no such thing. They gave her refuge when she needed it. That's all."

"Who was she then?" Guy asks.

"She was their friend," the old man replies, and there's a history of pain reflected in his eyes.

*

Gwen spent the day in her own chambers. Memories of the old days were relentless in their attack today. She wanted to be back there when they were all young and could laugh at anything. When Morgana was beautiful without trying. When Merlin was wide-eyed and innocent. When Arthur was bright smiles and hopeful. When she herself thought happiness was possible for all. They had all seen themselves in the future, together and in Camelot where those with magic at their fingertips didn't burn on a bonfire.

Where had that future gone?

It was night when Gwen finally decided to leave her chambers, to go to Arthur and smooth over words that might have appeared harsh. There were no guards outside the doors when she reached Arthur's chambers. She frowned, looking down the empty hall. The doors were also ajar. Clearly the King was feeling foolishly invincible tonight. Gwen walked towards the doors, almost stepping inside when she heard the voices. Stepping back, she peered through the gap instead.

Arthur was seated in his favourite chair by the fire and Merlin sat before him on a cushioned footstool. Both of them had a flagon each. Arthur's was in his hand, balancing on the arm of his chair, while Merlin had both hands wrapped around his as he sat there with elbows on thighs, eyes on the floor as the King stared thoughtfully into the fire.

Arthur sighed and turned his eyes on Merlin. "Why did you wait so long?"

Merlin was shaking his head. "I thought I could bring her back." He looked up at Arthur. "She wasn't in her right mind when she... I thought I could help her."

"I believe you," Arthur said firmly. An unreadable expression passed across his face, something that made him look too vulnerable. "But I wanted you here. Needed you here, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and looked up. "I'm here now."

Arthur shifted in his chair and leaned forward, both his hands gripping the flagon of drink. His face was inches from Merlin's. "For how long?"

"Forever. I swear," Merlin said, his voice firm and sure.

Arthur was looking into Merlin's eyes, as if he was trying to read the truth in them. One of his hands went to Merlin's face and Gwen knew it was doing what she had been too afraid to. She knew it was gently tracing the awful scar on Merlin's face.

"What happened?" Arthur asked.

"Morgana," Merlin replied, his voice hushed.

"Why?"

Merlin was quiet for a long time. "I took something from her."

Arthur leaned back, flagon back on the armrest of his chair, eyes still on Merlin. "What?"

"Something I hoped would save your life one day," Merlin said.

Arthur smiled. "Still learning to take life one day at a time I see."

"What happened to you?" Merlin asked, raising the flagon to his mouth.

Arthur smiled with old mischief. "Me? I grew a beard and got married."

"Still a prat then," Merlin said, his voice filled with affection. He tilted his head at Arthur and inquisitively asked, "You know, I would have thought you'd have an heir or two by now."

Gwen kept her eyes on Arthur's face. His smile faded to something sad, but didn't disappear completely. "Who knows what'll be left of Camelot for an heir. I thought allowing magic would bring peace. So far it hasn't worked out that well."

"Perhaps your father was right," Merlin said. "Perhaps magic ought to be wiped out."

Arthur looked at Merlin. "Evil people do evil things with or without magic." Merlin nodded. "It's going to get worse, isn't it? It's why you came back."

"I came back for you," Merlin said.

Arthur nodded slowly, before his eyes turned back to the fire. Quietly, he told Merlin, "We can't have children. We've tried." He sighed. "Not that trying isn't extremely pleasurable."

Gwen shook her head and smiled, her heart swelling even a little more for Arthur. She watched as Merlin reached out and took Arthur's hand, gripping it tight. Arthur covered Merlin's hand and squeezed back, not looking at Merlin. Gwen took a deep breath and walked into the room. Merlin turned and looked at her, his hand still in Arthur's. Gwen arched a brow at them.

Arthur looked down at his and Merlin's hands. "I won't lie, Gwen, but Merlin here has proposed marriage and I am considering the proposal quite seriously."

Merlin grinned rather shyly and tried to pull his hand away, but Arthur decided to hold on. Gwen looked at Merlin and told him, "Please, by all means, have him."

Merlin put his flagon down on the floor and used his free hand to extract his other one from Arthur's grasp. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not, thanks."

Arthur was shaking his head with a look of fake disappointment. "Betrayed by my friend and my queen. Scandalous."

Gwen picked up a pitcher of ale. "I think you've both had quite enough."

"And by enough you mean?" Arthur asked.

"By enough I mean, why wasn't I invited?" she said, filling a flagon for herself.

Arthur looked to Merlin and Merlin nodded at Gwen. "I told him you'd drink us under the table."

Arthur looked at Gwen with that old mischief again. "And I told him I'd like that very much."

Gwen put the flagon to her lips and eyed Arthur over the top. "Maybe later," she said with a smile.

*

Later, Gwen lay next to Arthur as he idly stroked a hand down her body. It started with his fingertip making a slow trail across her collarbones, then down the valley between her breasts and then his hand flattened and smoothed across her ribs before sliding down her stomach, stopping low on her belly. Gwen stopped his hand there, covering it with both of hers, holding it there where Arthur's thumb softly stroked the skin. She turned her face to see his eyes on their hands. He looked a little lost. Gwen leaned closer and kissed his cheek, prompting Arthur to turn his head and press his lips to her mouth before he nuzzled his way to the crook of her neck where he hid his face before pulling her close.

*

News spread quickly of a man called Merlin. Those who still remembered Uther Pendragon were wary of Merlin. No one really knew of his abilities, but still they feared how close he was to the King. They feared how much sway he had. It reminded Gwen of the early days of her marriage when those with Arthur's so-called interests at heart cast suspicion on her for the most ridiculous of reasons. Those without noble blood were not to be trusted.

Of course, once Arthur told her, "I don't care. Why do you?" things had been much different. And when she saw Merlin walking with a new indifference to anyone who wasn't Arthur, she knew the King had given him that same sound piece of advice. Merlin now looked as though he had every right to stand beside the King, to follow him like a shadow, to walk ahead like a warning.

Meanwhile, Gwen haunted Morgana's chambers again, after years of neglect. She should have been here too. It was wrong the way they had lost her. She walked around the long forgotten room. She stood before the mirror where she used to comb Morgana's long dark hair. She smoothed her hands down the dresses that hadn't been worn in years. She held the delicate jewellery and listened to the echoes of long lost laughter and wondered if out there Morgana ever felt this alone.

*

The dragon didn't appear as fearsome as she imagined. She'd heard of him through Arthur and Merlin and imagined something less weary and old. The dragon was perched on a large rock, eyes tiredly blinking at her.

"So, you finally came," he said, his voice as tired as the rest of him. "I thought you would come sooner."

Gwen stayed as far away as possible, unsure of what to say. She knew the dragon could see things. But she also knew he could mislead. At least that was Arthur and Merlin believed. The dragon tilted his head at her.

"What did you do to her?" Gwen asked quietly.

"I did nothing," the dragon replied. "I simply showed her all that Uther had been and would become. She has the power to see beyond what others can see."

Gwen felt her face flush with heat. "You drove her mad."

"I helped her see the truth she was seeking," the dragon said. "It was she who decided on freeing Camelot from tyranny."

"You turned her into a monster," Gwen said.

"Your kind," the dragon said derisively. "You think magic is only capable of monstrosity."

Gwen stepped nearer. She looked into those large reflective eyes, seeing a faraway distorted image of herself. "No wonder Uther hated all magic. No wonder he hated you so much."

She turned to leave, but as she neared the way out, she heard the dragon laughing, low and malevolent.

"Magic is a part of your life whether you wish it or not. And it will be a part of your child's life," the dragon rumbled. "Hate it all you will." Gwen turned to stare at the dragon.

Gwen's legs felt like water, but she still ran as fast and as far away as possible from the dragon. She ran blindly until someone stopped her, taking her by both of her arms.

"Gwen?" She looked up at Arthur, worry written across his face and Merlin at his side, equally concerned. "What is it? What's wrong?"

*

"Dragons. Come on, that's just nonsense. Made up creatures to frighten children," Guy says. The old man's smile is tired. This is clearly the reaction he expected.

"Look, say what you will, but dragons? That's madness," Viviane says. "Dragons are not real. Next you'll be saying they were riding around on unicorns."

The old man arches a brow at Viviane and now she knows she's being played for a fool.

*

"What were you thinking?" Arthur snapped, face furiously red.

"I wanted answers," Gwen said, avoiding Arthur's glare and looking at her clasped hands in her lap instead. "I wanted to know what happened."

Arthur had nothing to say to that. He never had anything to say about Morgana. Maybe that was all the forgiveness he could muster.

"Gwen, the dragon can't be trusted," Merlin spoke quietly from where he stood by the window, Arthur's ever present shadow. "You'd be foolish to trust anything he says."

Arthur appeared to be on the cusp of saying something in agreement before doubt furrowed his brow and he looked at Merlin. Merlin immediately looked guilt-ridden.

"I hope you're following your own sage advice, Merlin," Arthur said, voice dangerously low. Merlin said nothing. Arthur shook his head, spitting out, "Unbelievable."

Arthur was shaking his head and turning his back on Merlin and his eyes caught Gwen's gaze and he just deflated, tiredly dropping into his chair by the fire. Gwen looked at Merlin, nodding for him to say something. Merlin emphatically shook his head and nodded for her be the first to speak. Gwen rolled her eyes at him and mouthed the word coward. Merlin shamelessly gave a nod of agreement. Gwen retaliated with her iciest of glares.

"Look," Merlin almost stammered as if they were all young idiots again. "It's different for me. I can--"

"What?" Gwen asked. "Read his mind? Or do you think the great big beast only likes attacking silly little women?"

"I can use my power to protect myself, Gwen," Merlin told her. "He could hurt you."

"He could hurt both of you," Arthur said, voice low, eyes ignoring both Merlin and Gwen. "He made my father angrier and angrier until there was nothing left of him but rage and hatred. He did the same to Morgana. All he had to do was plant a seed in her mind. And none of us could do anything to protect her. All it takes are the right words and he has you."

Gwen and Merlin both just stared at Arthur quietly. When he looked up at Gwen, the reflection of the fire seemed to have intensified in his liquid eyes.

"Every king has something that's dearer to him than his kingdom and even his own life," Arthur said. "I would advise you both to stop endangering what is very dear to me."

Gwen stared at him. She gave him a nod and smiled. "I love you too."

Arthur nodded, mouth slightly lifting in a smile. Then he turned in his chair to peer back at Merlin who was rubbing the corner of one eye. He shakily told Arthur, "I still think you're a prat."

Arthur extended a hand towards Merlin, who came to him and took the proffered hand in a tight white-knuckled grip, lifting it to his mouth for a kiss. Arthur rose up from his seat and accepted a firm kiss on his lips from Merlin, before turning to Gwen and reaching out for as she went to him without hesitation, taking his free hand, reaching up to kiss him.

When they parted, Arthur stood there, pressing his cheek to Gwen's head, kissing her hair, one arm around her and another around Merlin's neck, hand grabbing the front of Merlin's shirt as if stopping him from disappearing into the wilderness again. She looked across at Merlin as he looked back at her. There was fear in his eyes and Gwen knew he could see uncertainty in hers. Still, she reached out and took his hand and Merlin nodded because he heard her when she wished he would keep Arthur safe.

*

It wasn't that she was dwelling on the dragon's words, they just kept coming back to her whenever her no matter how much she tried to think of something else. She tried to imagine how magic would be a part of her child's life, the child she did not have. The child she thought she could not have.

Gwen looked into the courtyard where Arthur dismounted from his horse. Merlin appeared soon after, Arthur waiting for him on the steps of the castle. When Merlin neared, Arthur placed a gloved hand high on Merlin's back, amused smile on his face as he started talking.

Gwen stood there even after they disappeared, thinking about a magical child that would belong to all of them.

*

Arthur was sleeping, having returned from Merlin, content and smiling lazily, warm with wine. He had done more to hinder than help when Gwen attempted to undress him, finally giving up when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, falling back on the bed. They kissed a while, but already worn out, Arthur went slack beneath her during their comfortable lazy kissing. She covered him with the blankets, leaving the room dim under the gentle glow of one single candle for when she would return.

Though well past midnight, none of the guards gave Gwen a second glance as she made her way through the castle. They all knew there was only one place either Arthur or Gwen would go at the strangest of hours. In the morning when someone would inform Arthur how unbecoming it was for the Queen to visit Arthur's most important advisor at such an ungodly hour, he wouldn't bother asking her about the visit. He knew there were things she couldn't talk to him about. Or things he would refuse to talk to her about. Sometimes she didn't want to know why Morgana's leaving had hurt Arthur so deeply.

Predictably, Merlin was awake when she walked through his door. He was sitting by the fire, one elbow propped on the armrest of his chair, thumb under his chin, finger on his cheek, one foot propped on a footstool, the other one tucked under his chair and eyes gazing straight ahead with a faraway look. She closed the door behind her, loud enough for Merlin to hear. Instantly he turned his head and the flames in the fireplace died down.

Merlin gave her a long appraising look, but said nothing. Instead he got up and went to the large table in the middle of the room, picking up a pitcher and pouring her some wine into a copper goblet, handing it to Gwen with a nod, before he poured himself a goblet too. For a while they drank quietly, Merlin's eyes asking her questions while Gwen thought of what she would do if Merlin were to fail her today.

"I want your help," Gwen finally said.

Merlin gave her a nod. "You know I would do anything for you."

Gwen nodded back, but asked, "Anything?"

The suspicion was instantly recognisable in his eyes. "Anything that wouldn't hurt Arthur."

Gwen laughed at that. "How could you think I'd hurt him?"

"You'd never do it knowingly," Merlin said.

Gwen threw her goblet to the floor. Merlin didn't even flinch. He simply looked at the spilled wine and then at Gwen as she told him, "All that time you were away, I was there for him. I never hurt him unknowingly then. Why would I do it now?"

Merlin placed his wine on the table, his jaw working to hide something. But even the great warlock couldn't stop himself from saying, "You told me to go after her. I didn't leave because I wanted to. And that is how you unknowingly hurt him."

Gwen smiled despite the way her tears completely blurred the image of Merlin until he was no more than dark shapes on pale skin. "Thank you for not throwing that in my face."

Merlin was shaking his head. "I'm not. I wouldn't. I just – I know what you want, and I can't," he said.

Gwen wiped her eyes to see Merlin looking torn, his eyes pink and wet. "The dragon said -"

"Gwen," Merlin grated out.

"The dragon said I would have a child. Not could, or might. A child. Mine and Arthur's child."

"You have no idea what you're asking," Merlin said.

"I am asking for a child!" Gwen snapped. "Why is it so wrong for me to want this?"

Merlin was quiet. He turned away, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced the room and Gwen angrily wiped away the wetness on her face. He turned back around swiftly, a determined look on his face as he approached her until there was the barest of spaces between them.

"Uther went to Nimueh for the same reason you've come to me, Gwen," Merlin said. "For a child. You already know how that tale ended."

"You're not Nimueh," Gwen said.

"It's old magic. A life for a life. You're asking to bring a child into this world at the cost of someone else's life."

"I'm not asking for anyone's life," Gwen said. "My life."

Merlin gave her a look of utter disbelief. "You want a child you'll never know?"

"I'll know him," Gwen said. "When I feel him growing inside me, knowing that he is mine and Arthur's, I'll know him."

"I won't help you conceive a child that's going to cost you your life."

"Then find another way."

"If it's not your life, it'll be someone else's," Merlin said.

"You're a powerful sorcerer, find a way. Don't let Albion go to waste."

Merlin shook his head. "You've gone mad."

"Why?" Gwen asked. "Because I want something? That makes me mad? Because I want to give something to Arthur that only I can give him? Why does that make me mad?"

"It's not worth losing you, Gwen," Merlin said. "Arthur's mother died and Uther spent the rest of his life taking revenge on anything that even fell under the shadow of magic. I won't do it."

Gwen nodded. "Fine. You keep helping Arthur to unite the land of Albion. And when he dies, you can watch everyone tear it apart because he has no heir."

"Gwen-"

"No," she said. "I shouldn't have come to you. I made you break a vow to Arthur once. I won't ask for anything else."

Gwen turned to leave, not turning back when Merlin called out and said, "You can ask for anything. Except for that."

Gwen stopped by the door and nodded. "I know. But that was all I wanted."

*

The candle was still burning when she returned to Arthur's chamber, dim and dying out. She dressed for bed and quietly climbed in next to Arthur. He was too still and tense next to her and she knew he was awake. Gwen was too tired to pretend her heart wasn't breaking so she turned and buried her head in his chest and he held her tight like he always did.

*

It's no secret where this story goes, but Viviane keeps quiet and listens to the storyteller. "How could you know all this?" Viviane asks, her voice hushed.

"I was there," he says.

"It's impossible," Guy says, but there's not much force in his objection.

The old man gives a thoughtful nod. "I expect so. But then, the impossible is something I am familiar with."

Viviane finds herself asking, "Why didn't Merlin help her?"

"Because all magic contains some deception, no matter how pure your heart. Someone would have gotten hurt."

*

Camelot suffered a colder and harsher winter than Gwen could remember. But Arthur, who was incapable of forgetting the time Camelot had no food and water because of one mistake, made sure those who needed help most were provided for. Merlin suffered during the winter, the court asking the King why his sorcerer couldn't do anything, why he couldn't make food and firewood from thin air. Because nothing can be created from thin air, Arthur responded, also telling them that if anyone had a responsibility to provide for the people of Camelot, then it was their king.

It was how Gwen ended up watching Arthur leave Camelot to meet with neighbouring kingdoms while the snow fell thick and the sky was white and cold. Merlin rode out close behind Arthur, wrapped up in thick firs, his staff in one hand, rein in the other. The castle was never warm in cold weather, but as they left it seemed to plunge into further cold.

In the days ahead Gwen heard those who came to her for council or for help. She watched over the people of Camelot, remembering her days before she was queen, how everything like the cold, hunger, thirst and sickness struck the poor in more malicious manner than those inside the castle and under the immediate protection of the King.

At night she returned to her chambers and lay in her large bed, the roaring fire doing nothing to chase away the cold of loneliness and winter. Her hands always wandered and ended up low on her belly, which she imagined as empty and dark as a cold cavern. She curled up tight where Arthur would have slipped into her bed and tried to ignore the horrible promise of joy she kept hearing since she'd seen the dragon.

*

The dragon knew she would come. He almost looked as though he was waiting for her, eyes lazily blinking as she approached. Gwen watched him for a long time, like something that was unreal, not alive at all. The dragon tilted his head at her in curiosity.

"I'm trying to understand what you want from all of us," Gwen said. The dragon seemed to snort and chuckle. "All you do is send everyone in opposite directions until we all come back and just hurt each other."

The dragon narrows his eyes at her. "My, but you have grown wise."

"Merlin told me how eager you were for Arthur to fulfil his destiny," Gwen said. "No doubt you've also chosen the person who's going to lay ruin to it." The dragon was silent, but Gwen could feel years of resentment and malevolence rolling off him in waves. "What do you want from us all?"

"The years I have spent in this cavern," the dragon said. "Can can you give them back?"

Gwen felt the sting of tears and shook her head. "No."

"No. I did not think you could," the dragon said. "Tell me, my lady, what do you wish of me?"

Gwen hastily wiped away the wetness from her face. "You told me I would have a child."

"You will. This much is certain," the dragon said.

"How?" she asked. "After so long, how?"

"It will happen when the time is right."

"And when is the time?" she asked.

"Soon," the dragon said. "She has been whispering in my mind. She is calling for you. She has told me your time comes soon."

"Who?" Gwen whispers.

"You know the answer to that."

*

In the snowy cold night, everything dark became misleadingly bright. Gwen shivered as she rode her horse into the woodland, hiding under her hooded cape. Somewhere faraway Arthur was negotiating the future of Camelot. She was to stop where the forest grew dense, dismount and continue on foot to the lake which would now be frozen. She had dressed the way she would have years ago, to make and test a sword, to travel or to avoid damaging the more delicate dresses. It felt good walking through the snow in her boots and breeches, her cape and tunic, sword hidden at her side.

The dragon hadn't told her where to stop. He had said she would simply know where when she got there. And at the lake when she saw the pale shimmering figure of a woman, she stopped. The woman beckoned her closer, standing at the edge of the lake. Gwen ignored what might have been a shiver because of the cold or because of fear, and carried on forward. Slowly the woman's face became more and more visible.

Her skin was pale and almost snow white. Her hair was black as night and even her lips looked the same colour in the dark, though Gwen saw a hint of crimson. She stood looking at Gwen with drunken blue eyes, a smile on her familiar lips. Gwen gasped, feeling her legs turn to water when she realised Morgana was standing right before her. But she found some strength somehow and threw back the hood of her cape before running towards the other woman.

She didn't wait to see if Morgana would accept her and threw her arms around her old friend, somewhere between crying and laughing. She pulled back and slid her hands down Morgana's arms, making sure this woman was real, flesh and blood and not a figment of her imagination. She took the serene face before her in her hands and pressed a thankful kiss to Morgana's mouth before bringing her back into a tight embrace.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Gwen murmured into the dark locks of Morgana's hair.

A hand gently stroked down her back and Morgana whispered, "Gwen."

Gwen pulled back and shook her head, not even bothering to keep the tears out of her eyes or the tremors from her voice. "Morgana, what happened? Tell me it's not true. Tell me you didn't kill him. Someone made it up, they blamed you-"

"But I did kill him," Morgana said, defiant as ever. "He was never going to stop. He was just going to keep killing anyone that got in his way. Innocent or guilty. The only way Camelot was ever going to be a fair place was if he died and Arthur became king."

"And who told you that?" Gwen asked, swiping at her own tears. "The dragon?"

"He sees things," Morgana said. "And Uther locked him up because of it. Just like he was going to shut me away in his dungeon."

"You could have gone to Arthur," Gwen said. "He would have helped you."

"Arthur? The same Arthur who has Merlin making sure that one day there will only be one sorcerer? They're doing what Uther did. The only difference is they're dividing those who practice magic into good and evil. Evil just happens to be anyone they don't agree with."

"It's not like that," Gwen said. "Arthur is nothing like his father."

"You can believe what you want to believe," Morgana said. "I know what I know."

"What do you know?" Gwen asked. "The things the dragon told you? He used you. Like he uses everyone. It's the same reason he sent me here."

Morgana gave Gwen an intense look. She took Gwen's hands in her own. "I asked him to send you."

"Why?"

"To tell you the dragon is right. Magic will be a part of your child's life, but that doesn't mean he'll be born of magic, Gwen."

Gwen felt her heart quicken. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning, the Pendragon line doesn't end at Arthur," Morgana said. "I asked you here for a reason. I want you to give me an heir."

Morgana's eyes shone strangely in the dark. "You understand what it is to want this. You understand, don't you?"

"You want Arthur's child," Gwen whispered.

"We saved a boy once, remember?" Gwen nodded. "He died at the hands of an evil man. He was my family after I ran from Camelot. And now he's gone. So help me to have a child of my own. He'll be born of two mothers, Gwen. You and me."

"How? I don't understand," Gwen said. "I don't understand any of this."

"It's our destiny, Gwen." Morgana's hand came up, pushing a strand of Gwen's hair back before gently stroking her cheek. She quietly told her, "Your son will be a fine heir to the throne. I promise you this."

Gwen closed her eyes and felt Morgana's mouth press a kiss to her lips. She tasted of sweet fruits and smelled like flowers. Not like the end of a kingdom.

Arthur returned five days later, on the night of an auspicious moon. Though Gwen couldn't recollect how she could ever know of such a thing. She sent word that Arthur's queen was waiting for him in her chambers. She stood in front of the bed, waiting eagerly for the doors to open and for Arthur to walk and say something that would make her heart swell another inch. After too much time had elapsed, he opened the doors, standing there between them before stepping inside and shutting them behind him.

"You summoned me, my lady," he said, bowing low.

Gwen smiled at him and held out her hands, which he took, pulling her into a kiss. "Come to bed," she whispered.

Arthur cocked a brow at her. "I should stay away more often."

Gwen shook her head. "No. You really shouldn't."

Arthur gave her a long look and nodded in agreement. "No, I really shouldn't."

She reached pushed off his coat and loosened his shirt, which Arthur pulled off and threw on the floor before kissing her again and carelessly reaching around to loosen the laces of her dress. She heard something snap behind her and knew this dress would now be useless, but she laughed because Arthur stopped trying to unlace it, opting to pull at the opening until it gave way, making him growl into her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Gwen laughed at him.

"Why do they make these things so impossible?" he complained. "It's easier to get into someone's armour."

"I won't ask how you know that," Gwen said as she grabbed his hand, pulling him to the bed, turning him around and shoving him down.

"Best not to," he said, smiling at her.

Gwen turned her back on him, hearing his put upon sigh as he dealt with unlacing her dress properly. When she felt it loosen, she turned around and let it slip off her shoulders and fall to the ground, pooling around her feet before before she stepped out of it. Arthur sat quietly contemplating her as she stood naked before him. Gwen reached out to stroke the back of a finger against his cheek.

"What is it?" she asked.

Arthur shook his head, taking her hand and kissing her palm instead of answering. Gwen pulled her hand away with a smile before walking past him to climb into bed. He sat there for a while, looking at her over his shoulder before getting up and divesting himself of the rest of his attire. She watched him as he joined her. His body had only hardened over the years, all muscle and scars. But looking past the short hair and the several days worth of stubble, she could still see a boyish beauty.

She pressed herself close to him, wanting to feel all that was rough and hard about Arthur, all that had changed and remained the same over the years. She could feel him wet and hardening against her, whispering nonsense into their kisses. Gwen stroked a hand down his body, stroking him, pushing him onto his back, sliding on top, taking him into her, straddling him tight. Something wild coursed through her, something as natural as a storm or waves crashing on a shore. She felt Arthur's body tense, as if he would shift. Gwen slid her hands to his wrists, pushing them against the bed and when she looked at him he smiled at her in a way that made her feel as though they were still young and everything was yet to begin.

"I always wanted you," Gwen whispered, feeling foolish, but blurting it out all the same.

Arthur nodded wordlessly, shutting his eyes and gasping with a note of frustration, arching back into the bed, his fists curling against the pillows. Gwen lay against his body and smiled into his chest, claiming every inch of his skin with hers.

*

Arthur slept the way he always slept. One arm loose across her body, mouth still pressed against her shoulder where he had kissed it last. Gwen couldn't sleep.

Morgana had sent her away, telling her, "Our children will be brothers."

And Gwen couldn't remember returning home. She couldn't remember her promise to Morgana. She couldn't remember much at all as she stared into a mirror, frowning at the snow melting in her hair and hearing a whisper in her ears, the promise you know I would do anything for you.

But why did the whisper sound like her own voice? She closed her eyes and wished it all away.

*

Gwen had learned all she could from Arthur years ago, so sometimes she asked herself why they were circling each other quite pointlessly. And then Arthur would raise his eyebrows and smile at her and she'd remember it really had nothing to do with indulging herself in the swords she still felt compelled to make, or the strategies Arthur felt compelled to explain.

"You're slipping, Guinevere," Arthur said, his voice indicating his mind was on anything but swordplay.

Gwen smiled and said nothing. It paid to conserve the energy used in talking. Also, it annoyed Arthur when she didn't reply to his teasing. It suddenly made him serious. Like now, the way his eyes flicked to her feet, the way he moved to disarm her, the way he thought he knew exactly where she was going. And then their swords met, Gwen's on the outside, pushing in an outward circle until Arthur's wrist went the wrong way and the sword fell to the floor, Gwen's other gloved hand coming up under his chin so he toppled back. He moved back up instantly, forward onto his knees and right in front of Gwen's blade.

Gwen stood there catching her breath for a while, relishing the sudden warmth that had sprung through her skin. Arthur looked up all pink-faced and blue-eyed, staring at her from where he sat on his knees. She gave him a satisfied smile. Arthur grabbed her sword by the blade and pulled it away, throwing it aside before getting to his feet and pulling her close.

"I'm just glad you're on my side," he said with a grin.

"Don't be so sure," Gwen teased.

Arthur was preparing a retort, but it was lost on her because something shifted in the air as if a cold gust of wind had blown in and passed right through Gwen. She gasped and grabbed Arthur's shirt.

"Gwen," Arthur said, his arms tightening around her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, her heart in an odd panic. "I don't know. I just...something's not right."

Arthur looked at Gwen, his eyes travelling the length of her body in clear worry. "I'm taking you to Merlin."

And then the feeling that had turned icy for a moment completely left her. Gwen stilled, tentatively looking up at Arthur. "It's okay. I think I'm okay. I just felt a little dizzy."

"That looked a little more than dizzy, Gwen," Arthur said.

Gwen extracted herself from Arthur's hold. "Arthur, I'm fine. Really."

Arthur was going to continue objecting if it wasn't for the sudden knocking on the doors and the guards calling out, "Sire!"

"What is it?" Arthur shouted.

"Sire, it's Merlin," came the reply. "He's fallen ill."

*

They ran through the castle. They may as well have announced that something was wrong with Merlin. His painful cries reached them before they reached Gaius's old lodgings. They ran inside to find two soldiers kneeling on the ground, watching over Merlin, but too afraid to touch.

"Step back," Arthur said, stalking past as the soldiers jumped out of his way. Arthur knelt down on the ground where Merlin lay curled in on himself. "Merlin."

Merlin either didn't hear or didn't care that Arthur was there, his arms protectively covering his face as he lay on his side. Arthur reached for Merlin, one arm going behind his shoulders, the other wrapping around his waist and pulling him in.

"Merlin, it's me. Gwen's here too," Arthur was saying, the fear apparent in his voice.

Arthur pulled away Merlin's hand which was fisted against his forehead and Merlin looked up. Gwen stared as Arthur looked on in confusion, shouting at the guards, "Someone find out what's happened to that physician!"

The scar on Merlin's face looked as though it wasn't something old, but rather something that had only just healed, an angry thick red line down his face, the skin around it looking pink and painful. Merlin's eyes were glowing furiously gold whenever he opened them and as he blindly reached out for something that wasn't there, the fire in the hearth seemed to momentarily roar up in fury. Then Merlin's eyes settled on Gwen and she saw them move down her body, as if looking right through her. His face crumpled under some terrible realisation and he was shaking his head and murmuring nonsense, as if talking to someone besides Arthur and Gwen.

"It's okay," Arthur said. "You'll be fine." Arthur looked up at Gwen with desperation in his eyes. "Gwen."

"I'll find out where he's gotten to," Gwen said, backing away from where Arthur was holding onto Merlin so dearly.

Gwen ran out and called over two guards, ordering them to drag the physician from whatever bed he happened to be sleeping in. As she turned to go back to Arthur and Merlin, a sight caught her attention, a pale reflection in the window of a long ago locked room. Morgana had returned to Camelot after all.

*

"What did you do to him?" Gwen asked as soon as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

Morgana turned away from the window, wearing a gown Gwen hadn't seen her wear in years. "Nothing. He's done it all to himself."

"He is screaming in pain," Gwen said. "What did you do?"

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. He's not going anywhere. Not for a very long time. He'll outlive all of us yet."

"And me?" Gwen asked. "What did you do to me?"

Morgana smoothed a hand over her own stomach, looking at it thoughtfully. "I came for what you promised me."

"I didn't-" Gwen whispered, but she couldn't remember. Or maybe she just didn't want to.

"I never came here to hurt you," Morgana said, no remorse on her face, no emotion at all. "But we all have roles to play. We all have destinies, Gwen. Destiny isn't reserved just for great men."

Gwen looked away from Morgana's impassive face, still hearing Merlin's screams echo in her head. "Please go from here."

Morgana was standing before her, holding out a hand. "Come with me. Let them have their Camelot. This place is only going to hurt you."

"Is that really the future or just what you want me to believe?" Gwen asked. Morgana had no answer for that. "You said my son would be king one day."

"He will." Morgana nodded and Gwen saw the way she gently smoothed her hand over her belly. It made Gwen's legs feel as though they would turn to water.

"You have what you want. You should go before someone sees you," Gwen said, ignoring the soft sadness in Morgana's eyes.

"I missed you," Morgana said. "Out of everything I left behind here, I wished I still had you, Gwen."

Gwen nodded, feeling the burn of a tear down her cheek. "I know."

Morgana turned to look out of the window, speaking firmly. "I'm going to name him Mordred. Tell Merlin."

Gwen watched Morgana standing there, looking like a ghost, pale and otherworldly. When Gwen couldn't look at her anymore, she turned and opened the door. A cold gust of wind made her look back. Morgana was gone. But then she'd been gone for a long time now.

*

When Gwen returned, Arthur was sitting on the edge of Merlin's bed, closely watching his friend as he slept.

"How is he?" Gwen asked.

"Dead to the world," Arthur murmured. "That idiot of a physician gave him something to sleep."

"Do you know what happened?"

"No," Arthur said. "Do you?" Gwen stared at the rigid lines of his back. "He thought Morgana was here. In the castle. In fact, he was certain."

Gwen leaned against the cool wall. She could play the fool. But then perhaps she had done enough of that already. "She was."

Arthur turned to look at Gwen. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed, angry or judging her. "And?"

"She's not coming back," Gwen said. "I don't think she's ever coming back."

Arthur's face was stony and unreadable. He turned back to look at Merlin again. He reached down and touched Merlin's face, his body stiffening as he did so.

"What is it?" Gwen asked.

"Come see," he said quietly. She went to his side and saw Merlin's face. Once where there was a long scar, now there was nothing.

*

For five days Arthur tried to reason with Merlin, to get him to step into the outside world. After seven days Arthur stormed off for a hunting trip when it became apparent that Merlin was in no mood to talk about what happened on the night his scar simply vanished. Gwen went see Merlin the night Arthur left, finding him staring into the fireplace, the flames all too bright and all too high and Merlin's face still in concentration.

"What did she say to you?" Merlin asked, never turning around, startling Gwen with his knowledge of her presence.

"The name of... her child," Gwen said. "She wanted you to know his name."

"Mordred," Merlin whispered as the flames in the fireplace burned a bright white before dying down again. "She's going to name him Mordred."

"Yes," Gwen said with a nod.

"What did you tell Arthur?"

"Nothing. I don't want him to know." She stood there on the threshold of the room for what felt like an eternity. It appeared Merlin wasn't ready to invite her in quite yet.

"This is all my doing," Merlin said after a while, so quietly that Gwen had to walk in to get closer, whether he wanted it or not. "I betrayed her. Everything the dragon said would happen, is happening because I betrayed her. He made me kill an innocent man so Morgana could raise a murderer as revenge."

Gwen felt chilled to the bone, but she reminded herself the dragon was full of lies and any destiny he predicted could change. She prayed it could change.

"The dragon just wants everyone to feel what he feels until someone goes down there and puts him out of his misery," Gwen said. Merlin looked up from his chair and Gwen saw the tears in his eyes, and the sharpness of some pain Merlin had kept all to himself. She reached out and stroked his wet cheek. "He should live. For what he's done to all of us."

Merlin shut his eyes, his face cracking with grief, and held her hand to his quivering mouth until she came closer and leaned down to wrap both arms around him. The fire in the hearth dropped to the ground where it was nothing more than a tired wave of heat rocking side to side.

*

"What happened to the dragon?" Bryan asks quietly.

"He died," the old man says. "He has been dead as long as Camelot."

*

Two months later, the snow had melted and the world was showing its bright colours again, its blues and greens and yellows and reds. Gwen stood at the window, watching everyone below. They all appeared happy, all of them content. And so was she. There was happiness blooming inside her right now, something made of all that she loved, even if she had lost something in the process.

"Gwen," Merlin said, tearing her away from the window.

Gwen looked at Merlin standing in the doorway. His hair was looking even more unkempt these days and he was always lost in books and potions, his staff never far from his hand. "I wanted to tell you I have news for Arthur."

Merlin was still for a long time and then nodded thoughtfully. "So you're certain then."

She managed a smile. "Yes."

Merlin nodded and despite the dark thoughts she knew preoccupied his mind all the time, he allowed himself a smile.

Behind Merlin the door opened and Arthur walked in, clapping a hand on Merlin's shoulder with a greeting of, "There you are. Come, I have something I need to discuss with you." Then he noticed Gwen and frowned at her. "My queen and my friend. Should I be worried?"

Merlin looked at Arthur, affection as clear as day in his eyes. He put an arm around Arthur and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his cheek before patting his shoulder and walking out. Arthur watched him leave the room, clearly confused.

Then he turned to look at Gwen. "Is he sick?"

Gwen smiled and held out a hand. "Come." Arthur frowned, but came to her anyway, taking her hand. She held onto it and smiled. "I have something for you."

Arthur nodded. "I'm not sure Merlin would forgive us if we engaged in expressions of marital bliss here."

Gwen gave him a terse look. "It's something else."

"Oh?" Arthur asked. "Well, do tell."

Gwen nodded as her heart knocked loudly inside her chest. She brought his hand to her stomach and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I will give you one guess."

Arthur pulled his hand away and stared at her. "What?"

She nodded. "I've known for some time. I wanted to be certain before I told you."

Arthur was now aiming his bafflement at her stomach, before his face relaxed and he gave out a short laugh, his eyes going soft. She watched him sink to his knees and look up at her, both his hands splayed across her stomach.

"Really?" he asked. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. Really."

He looked back at the door. "He knew, didn't he?"

Gwen laughed. "Yes."

He looked at her, shaking his head and laughing. "I don't care. I don't care who knows," he said kissing her stomach before he stood up and held her so tight she thought she might break, still laughing like he couldn't believe any of this.

*

The old man stops and frowns at the group. "Did someone die while I was talking?"

Guy snorts and then smiles, shaking his head. "You spin a good tale."

"I don't want to know what happened next," Elaine says, clearing her throat, averting everyone's eyes. Her hands twist in the wig in her lap, the ridiculous yellow thing she wears when they weave their tales. "It's all doom and gloom with you."

"Yeah, because life's always been fair to you, hasn't it?" Bryan says sarcastically.

"Bryan," Guy warns him. "Leave it."

"I'm just saying it's a miserable tale like most miserable tales," Bryan says, standing up to leave.

"That is not quite true," the old man tells him. "There are many happy tales too. We just forget them quicker."

*

Arthur really lunged for Gwen and she wondered if he actually had intentions towards decapitating her. When she gave him a look he shrugged, giving her a look that suggesting he couldn't possibly try and be any less stellar than he was.

"Do keep up, Sir Gwen," he said with a mischievous smile.

Gwen rolled her eyes and wielded her sword. She didn't think of this as fighting, or even learning to fight. She thought of it is knowing the weapon her hands had made. There wasn't much of a call for her continuing to make swords, so now she did it for herself. Sometimes for Arthur, though he always carried the best sword she had ever made. The sword she made, that Merlin took from her and had burnished in the fire from a dragon, that sword that came back to Arthur from the depths of a lake when he needed it most. The sword sought after by his enemies.

Gwen narrowly missed a blow, blocking the attack which brought her close to Arthur, the cross of their swords between them. "I really am getting the feeling you want a new consort, Sire," she told him breathlessly. Arthur grinned, accepting the kiss she pressed to his mouth before shoving him away.

"She's about to get serious, you know," Merlin spoke from where he sat, the young prince playing in his arms. "I'd stop acting like a prat."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "When's the last time you even held a sword?"

Of course, if Arthur hadn't been standing around listening to Merlin heckling him he would have seen Gwen's sneak attack. It wasn't the kind of attack he appreciated. Or to be clear. It wasn't the kind of attack he appreciated Gwen learning from him and then using so aptly.

Arthur found himself stumbling to his knees, still holding his sword aloft and deflecting blows as Merlin sat blithering on. "See? Now your mother's going to win and your father's not only going to sulk, but make up excuses about why he had his hide kicked so magnificently. You're actually much more grown up than he is."

Arthur stilled where he was on all fours now, glaring at Merlin, not even caring that Gwen was now standing over him with her blade to his neck. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin, pushing Gwen's sword away before getting up and stalking away.

He took the prince from Merlin. "Come here boy, come to your father." Gwen smiled as he held the child protectively close, kissing the crown of his head and telling Merlin, "You're not funny, Merlin."

Merlin laughed, watching Arthur stalk off with his son in his arms. "I think that went well."

Gwen held out her hand, pulling Merlin up when he took it. "Why do you have to tease him like that?"

"I can stop if you want," Merlin said with a knowing smile.

Gwen pretended to think this grave matter through. "Better not. I quite like it."

Merlin gave her a sharp bow of his head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Gwen linked her arm through Merlin's and they started for the door, where Arthur was waiting for them, shaking his head at both Gwen and Merlin, the prince in his arms, contently playing with the pendant hanging from the chain around his father's neck.

Gwen smiled fondly. "Look at him. He's grown so much."

Merlin smiled and nodded. "He has."

He began to add the obvious and expected tease, but Arthur narrowed his eyes at his friend and said, "Don't even think about it. You're not so precious I won't put you in the stocks."

Gwen held Merlin closer, trying not to smile when Merlin made a show of clinging to her. "Arthur."

Arthur sighed and said. "You're both really quite ridiculous," before turning and walking out of the room.

Merlin frowned at Gwen. She shrugged, pulling him along with her as they followed the King.

*

Viviane doesn't sleep well all night and dreams of these people she has never known. When she wakes, the old man is in quiet conversation with Bryan. Bryan seems contrite about something and the old man's smile is gentle and understanding. The others have awoken too, loading up the carts and horses, both of them eyeing the old man every now and then.

They all travel together until the trail that will lead to the ruined city arrives. The old man looks up the trail and smiles, before looking at Viviane.

"I think our journeys follow different paths from here."

Viviane nods. She feels strangely attached to this old man, feeling a flicker of regret at seeing him go. "Go safely."

The old man chuckles quietly. "I have nothing worth robbing. Good journey to you all."

Viviane watches the old man start up the path, while her own merry little band starts moving down the other. She reluctantly trails after them for a while and then finds herself stopping with a sigh and telling Guy, "You all keep moving. I'll catch up."

"What? Where you going?" he asks.

"I need to ask him something," Viviane says. "You go."

Guy shakes his head. "We'll wait. You go."

Viviane runs back down and follows the path the old man has taken. It appears he can walk deceptively fast because it's a while before the familiar cape and hood comes back into view.

"Old man!" Viviane chases after him. "Wait!"

The old man turns around slowly, quite confused and asks, "Did I forget something?"

Viviane stops before him, catching her breath. "Tell me...tell me it all ended well. Tell me the ending we all know is a lie."

"You have heard the songs," the old man says. "Guinevere buried in a foreign land, Arthur buried far from her. Or at least that was the last version I heard."

"No," Viviane says, shaking her head. "Those are just songs. Tell me they slipped away, sailed across the sea and... tell me they were happy."

The old man is quiet for the longest time since she met him. He looks frail and weak, lost in his own terrible memories. After a while he looks at her.

"They were happy," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "For the longest time they were." He stops and looks at the staff in his hand. "Then Camelot fell."

"And the sorcerer?" Viviane asks.

"The sorcerer," the old man says. "I think he went mad. For a while all he knew was revenge. All the power of the world in the palms of his hands and he could not bring back what he loved the most." The old man looks as though he can see the fall of Camelot right before his eyes. " She held him until his last breath, you know. He was laughing, the fool. Telling everyone he'd be fine."

"How do you know all this?" Viviane asks, seeing the old man's sad eyes glisten with tears. He lapses into silence again for a while. Before quietly telling her, "Time for me to be on my way. You too, I think."

"There's nothing left of the city," Viviane tells him. "Ruins and weeds. Come back with me. Travel with my band. Tell your stories. Someone should hear them."

"You have heard them," the old man replies. "It is enough."

"Everyone ought to hear them," Viviane says quietly. "Not those ridiculous tales or bawdy songs."

The old man frowns and blinks at Viviane. "There are bawdy songs? To think I will go to my grave regretting never having heard one." He smiles and nods at Viviane before slowly turning and ambling away.

"Old man!" Viviane calls out. He just keeps walking away. "Wait!" But he's made up his mind and is walking away, deaf to Viviane's calling.

"Merlin!"

The old man stops dead. He seems frozen for a while, but then slowly turns back around and looks at Viviane with a smile. "I have not been known by that name for a while. I am glad to have heard it once more."

And Viviane sees all the loneliness of the world in Merlin's eyes, for surely, this is Merlin. It has to be. And if he isn't Merlin, then Viviane doesn't care. There is something unique about this man all the same.

"How can you let them tell those stories when there's so little truth in them?" Viviane asks.

"All stories have their own truth," Merlin says. "I have told you mine."

"There is no Camelot," Viviane says. "You return to nothing."

Merlin ambles a little closer to Viviane. He moves the opening of his cape aside and Viviane sees the glint of a blade. This sword needs no introduction because it shines even in shade with something unnaturally beautiful.

"This sword has been on a journey from the hands where it belonged to the hands that stole it. Now I must return Excalibur to Camelot. And then I too can finally rest."

Viviane continues to stare at the sword. She's heard the stories of how beguiling it is, how it buzzes in your ears that you should take it and by its power take everything else. Anyone who holds this sword has the world. When Viviane looks up, Merlin's head is tilted at her and his eyes have a curious look in them.

Viviane steps back, for surely there is some kind of evil as well as beauty in the sword. Merlin hides it beneath his cape again. He looks grand and wise, standing there with the sun shining behind him, its rays like welcoming arms. Funny how the mere utterance of a name has imbued him with qualities Viviane was blind to the night before.

Merlin holds out his staff, which is no more than an old wooden stick, covered in scratches, splintered and broken on top. "Go now. Your friends will leave without you."

Viviane shakes her head. "They won't."

Merlin smiles, looking amused. "No, of course not."

Viviane clears her throat and starts walking. "Come. I will accompany you."

Merlin holds out his hand. "I must go alone."

"Then let me walk you to the end of this path," Viviane says.

Merlin looks up the long path and then back at Viviane. "Your friends will be very annoyed."

Viviane smiles. "I'm always giving them cause for annoyance."

Merlin points a finger at her. "Annoyance is the foundation of a good friendship. I know. I spent a lot of time being annoyed."

They start to walk slowly up the path. "Really?"

"Yes, most certainly."

"Do you miss them?" Viviane asks, realising it's a stupid question the moment it leaves her lips.

Merlin is quiet for a long time and Viviane can tell he is gathering strength to tell her, "I loved them very much."

"Tell me more about your friends. Tell me something happy."

Merlin looks at her and smiles, and the sun seems to shine bright in his eyes, like rings of gold.

*

It's the bluest of skies over the greenest of meadows. The air is crisp and cool, but the sun is warm and bright and they've stopped by a still lake on the way to Camelot. Merlin sits cross-legged, idly pulling up the grass, while Arthur is lying on his back, legs crossed at ankles, fingers linked behind his neck as he idly chews on a long stalk.

"You know, that could be poisonous," Merlin points out. Arthur stills and then spits the stalk out. "And if it was, spitting it out won't make much difference now."

Arthur's head turns to look at Merlin with slit eyes and an expression that is probably expressly reserved for Merlin alone.

"Fine. Next time I won't say anything," Merlin says with a shrug.

Gwen shakes her head at both of them and smiles. Then she catches sight of Morgana and she knows exactly what she plans to do. This could not possibly end well.

This much is clear when Arthur sits up with a yelp after receiving a face full of lake water. "Morgana!" he protests. "Oh, that's it. You are dead."

Morgana's laugh is the most delightful sound. She shrieks as Arthur chases after her, probably intent on dunking her in the lake.

"I know what you're planning, Arthur, and it is not befitting of a prince," Morgana laughs, lifting her skirts and running.

Arthur's in no mood to listen and Merlin is yawning and lying back. Gwen ends up in the precarious position as Morgana's shield. Arthur stops before her.

"Gwen, move out of the way, I have to kill Morgana," Arthur says.

Gwen laughs at that. "Can't it wait until later, Sire?"

"No, I really must do this now," Arthur says with a nod, watching Morgana as she stands behind Gwen, arms tight around her waist.

"Go on, Gwen, reason with him. He likes you much more than he likes me," Morgana says with a laugh, which makes Arthur lunge for her.

Morgan shoves Gwen at Arthur who catches her. They both still and look at each other, unaware that both Morgana and Merlin are watching them with amused looks. Arthur realises he's probably been holding Gwen just that bit too long. He pulls away and they avert each other's eyes, turning to look at Morgana who is now looking at Merlin with a frown.

"Let's throw Merlin in the lake," she says thoughtfully.

Merlin sits up and frowns. "What? How is that even fair?"

Arthur nods thoughtfully. "It's not. But it sounds like fun."

It turns out that Arthur is wrong. Somehow he and Morgana return to Camelot drenched and dripping, whilst Gwen and Merlin return looking very grown up and dry. Uther reprimands Morgana and Arthur, but there is laughter sitting on the corner of his clamped mouth and Gaius smiles brightly, calling them all young and foolish and at that moment, it seems a certainty they will forever stay this way.

- the end -

---