by GR Griffin
Gwen’s expression softened as Merlin spontaneously drew her into his arms. His best friend – the woman who had not been a Druid by birth, but undoubtedly by heart.
“Thank you.” He whispered against her ear. Gwen nodded in understanding, pulling back to meet his face.
“My father died when I was just a girl, my brother Elyan, he…he raised me.” She admitted.
Merlin listened attentively, recalling that name she often spoke of with such reverence and unspeakable sadness. He wondered what had happened. She never spoke about it, and he would never pry in fear of upsetting her. Gwen paused, pondering on the memories of her brother. Silently, a series of emotions glimmered through her eyes. Biting her lip, she glanced up at her best friend. Her wonderful friend who had saved the whole of Albion with his staggering courage and bravery.
Emrys! He was Emrys- the monumental figure of legend. The Druid who inspired hundreds to pilgrimage across the land of Albion, all the way from the Western coast to the Eastern haven of Eorendel to express their gratitude and ask for his blessing. He was the subject of songs and ancient texts; he was the heart of this entire world, the human configuration of Albion and her magic. Some referred to him as their divine almighty Warlock, others the man who tamed the Dragon. A small smile slipped over her face.
Many druids were slightly daunted when they came to meet this iconic figure. But Gwen knew the man behind Emrys, the man many forget was there. He was just Merlin to her, clumsy, adorable and totally enchanting Merlin. She was just Gwen to him. Being able to have such a relationship, such a bond in her life – she felt truly gifted.
“Thank you Merlin.”
Abruptly, Merlin outstretched his arm to her, a broad smile dusting his glowing face. He appeared a little confused by her words, yet didn’t pry. After everything they’d been through, she really didn’t need to thank him. Gwen had led the young and vulnerable to safety in the great battle, she had saved thousands of lives by risking her own for them. He wondered if she knew that the Druids had named her sóþlufu, the kind-hearted guardian of Albion. Of course, she’d never accept that title, bashfully ducking her head or declaring she merely ‘played her necessary role’ in the grand scheme of things. That’s what heightened his admiration for this woman. All she’d done for the people of Albion, and she still had no idea why people would look at her with such benevolence.
“You ready?” he asked softly.
Pushing back the tears in her eyes and throat, Gwen swallowed-hard. Anxiously, she nodded and wrapped her arm around his. With that, the pair of them exited the small wooden house. They walked gracefully down the enchanted pathway ahead. It was dressed in wondrous arrays of flowers especially picked from the fields of Monus. The tree branches had been bewitched, draping over their heads in a complex helix, resembling a mythological, mystical arch. Trails of glittering faerie dust swept around them, mixing strikingly with the amber glow of the setting sun. Princess Lucinda and the faeries made sure to sprinkle Gwen with an extra bit of dust. It settled on her dress, adding an ethereal shimmer and heavenly hue to her complexion.
All her life, she had never imagined that this day would come. But here it was, there he was, waiting for her on the other side. Merlin studied the look on Lancelot’s face. He seemed content, bursting with happiness to the point where it almost looked like inexplicable sorrow. Of course, he was a little nervous, fidgeting impatiently as his future wife strode towards him with poise and elegance. Merlin met the man’s eyes with a knowing smile, before turning his attention back to the astonishing lady by his side.
Standing behind the handsome tanned man was none other than Arthur Pendragon. Arthur inhaled a breath when he caught sight of Gwenevere. Gwaine deliberately nudged Lancelot, resulting in muffled laughter between the trio. She really was stunning, and the look on Lancelot’s face revealed just how smitten he was. Arthur smiled gently, two people so deeply in love, celebrating it and binding themselves together for the rest of their lives. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever had the privilege to witness. A familiar warmth resonated in his chest as he flickered his gaze over to Merlin. The combination of sunlight and faerie dust accentuated his cheekbones, his wide blue eyes sparkling and plump lips oh-so taunting. Merlin coyly averted his gaze, feeling a bit flustered under the intent stare. This was Gwen and Lance’s special day, after all.
The young Calhoun was standing at the front, a look of awe on his face. The child was truly enamoured by the sight of Gwen and by her kindness. It wasn’t hard to tell that they had found a special bond. Gwen had accepted the orphaned child as her own, protecting and shielding him from the darkness that had plagued the Druids in the shadows. Calhoun tugged excitedly at Lancelot’s delicate silk robes, gesturing towards Gwen. It evoked a wide, tearful smile from the tanned man. Merlin chuckled; Gwen smothered the child with a look full of compassion.
Finally, they came to the end of the magical walkway. Merlin watched Gwen’s eyes latch onto her love’s with unmasked adoration and delight. Lancelot returned the sentiment, reaching out for her delicate hands. Reluctantly, Merlin released Gwen from his grasp, a tremble in his lips. She cast him one final look before offering her very being to the man she would call her husband. Merlin clung onto her gaze until the moment it slipped helplessly from his grasp.
In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to be quite this affected by the chain of events occurring. But Gwen was…she was like his little sister. She was a constancy in his life, a source of inspiration and wonder. To be giving her away – it was tougher than he thought. She would always be here, of course she would be. No doubt, however, things would be slightly different. Without William here, Merlin truly felt as if he were losing two of his closest friends forever. A pang of dark isolation swept through his soul, into his aching bones and despairing heart. He was happy for her; it would be selfish not to be.
Nonetheless, the moment she turned away hit him with such intensity, he had to force himself to look up and appreciate the cerise sky to stop himself from sobbing. The physical loss of one friend was enough, he wasn’t sure he could deal with the emotional loss of both.
He barely noticed the warm hand on his shoulder until it was squeezing his skin tightly with assurance. Merlin didn’t have to look to confirm that it was Arthur; he was accustomed to his presence. The sympathy etched onto his face melted his fears away, the golden man glowing in the amber sunlight like a guardian. Arthur’s eyes said it all. Lancelot was a gentlemen, he had a noble, honest heart. If there was any man ever worthy of Gwen’s love, it was Lancelot. Smiling with a bittersweet acceptance, Merlin fell softly into Arthur’s embrace as Hunith stepped forwards to address the focal couple.
“Lancelot, Druite ae duione,” she said with a smile. “Are you willing to give this woman your heart, to bind your soul to hers?”
Merlin watched his mother deliver the words, a sad twinkle in her eye. Indisputably this moment was bringing back memories of Balinor and their own wedding. She concealed it almost the second it had spread from her mind and into her eyes, expertly continuing with the Druid traditions.
"I am.” Lancelot spoke in a weak, breathless voice. Gwen grinned back in exhilaration, unable to disguise her contentment. Hunith moved her palms to hover over the woman’s cinnamon skin.
“And Gwenevere, do you accept this man as yours? Are you willing to give this man your heart, to bind your soul to his for better or for worse?”
The words rung out across the settlement, spurring a residual glow from all the Druids around. Despite feeling hundreds of eyes on her, watching intently and all waiting eagerly for her next words, Gwen spoke brazenly, boldly. She spoke with that fierceness and determination that had saved and driven so many to freedom.
“I do.” She gazed up at the man who hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a single heartbeat. Their eyes were smothered with affection as they engaged in a silent conversation, that only they could hear.
“You are now joined in this life,” Hunith
rested her hands over theirs. A golden thread wove itself around their hands, creating a mesmerising glimmer. It slowly faded away, leaving a tingle against their skin.
“And in the next.”
The Druids began to cheer in rejoicing. Slowly, they leant towards each other, lips meeting tentatively. The kiss encompassed everything about Lancelot and Gwen: honesty, loyalty, and true love. In pure mirth, Merlin held up his palm, spewing a pair of white doves from his hands and a large helping of tiny shimmering orbs. The doves flew around the pair; the orbs adding a brilliant glow to the scene as the setting sun created a stark contrast behind them. Arthur added a sprinkle of colour also, eyes flashing silver. In seconds, the Ealdor-Erendol Clan were igniting staggering patterns into the sky in jubilation. For that moment, it felt as if Albion herself had emerged and given her blessing - a tingling sensation that felt truly limitless.
♦☼♦
“If your father could see you now.” The woman mused, seemingly more herself than she had been in months.
Lifting his head, Merlin roused his attention to the gentle, warm-hearted woman. Instantly, his expression softened. He never dreamt he would see his mother again, not like this. She was bordering contentment that resembled her previous self, the woman before her entire life was destroyed. Her eyes, well they sparkled like the Crystals themselves. Compulsively, Merlin took a step towards her; she pressed her hands to his face affectionately, holding him there.
“He would be so proud,” She whispered through a smile that met her eyes for the first time in months. “So proud of what you’ve done, of the man you’ve become.”
Despite his doubts, because there had been dark hours, Merlin refuted against affirming it aloud. The last thing he wanted was to shatter his mother’s words, or undermine the invaluable potential within them. Instead, he smiled gently, not small enough to cause concern in her but enough to instigate curiosity.
“I heard his voice, you know.” Merlin recalled the moment in his mind. He had been frightened, scared for his people. He had been on the verge of losing everything. When he needed it most, that voice had filled him with immense strength and courage. “I was ready to accept my failure, then his voice called out to me.”
Hunith appeared unsurprised by this revelation, her smile growing.
“He will always be here, even after death.” Caressing a hand down her son’s face, she continued. “He will always be here for you.” Pulling his head down, for he was significantly taller, Hunith placed a soft kiss on the tip of his forehead where messy black hair began to drape over. With that, Hunith left her son’s company, trailing back down to join the excited, bustling people of Ealdor who were restored with hope and freedom.
Staring out across the settlement below, Merlin leant lightly against the entrance of the Crystal Cave. He heard the footsteps crackling against the jagged stones inclining upwards before his eyes rested on the long, dreary shadow the sun stretched out as it began to burrow close to the horizon. There was a thick silence between the pair. Arthur sliced through it, his voice lacking its usual conviction.
“Do you think he would be proud?”
A spectrum of emotions whirled around these words, beginning with distress and despair, ending at the latter where the words became hollow and dry. Raising his head, Arthur folded his arms over his chest.
“Of his son.”
Retaining his gaze over the people of Eorendel, Merlin swallowed-hard. The name hadn’t been spoken but the implications were there, and very much inferred. There was clear hesitance to answer this question. Despite Arthur’s beautiful stillness, his void; he was waiting expectantly, a bitter twist unfolding at the rims of his eyes. Merlin settled with the only thing that could both satisfy and dissatisfy Arthur; the truth.
“I don’t think,” accentuating every syllable, afraid of tripping over them, Merlin sighed. “he deserved to be.”
Bowing his head at these words, Arthur felt himself wince. He eyes darted towards Merlin, vision precariously wavering between the ground and the man beside him. His unreadable lips were taut over his skin.
“He didn’t deserve many things.”
The bite to his voice pleaded for a challenge yet there was an underlining poignancy. Merlin didn’t need to retrace the words to extract their true meaning. Teeth clenched, he forced himself to keep looking ahead. The irrepressible rage inside him, the dismay at what he found – it was difficult to overlook. Angling his neck to one side warily, Merlin caved and gazed over at Arthur. The blonde blinked slowly, instinctively sweeping his attention towards the Druid. In that moment, all the fire inside Merlin disintegrated into devastating ashes.
“Perhaps not,” The ferocity in his voice contradicted his admission. Almost instantaneously, this melted into compassion. Merlin could not feel for him, but he could feel for Arthur – even when he didn’t want to. “That was his own decision, and you know that it was.”
Suddenly, Arthur leant closer, tensions snapped and withdrawn emotions were dangerously exposed.
“He was my father Merlin!” he hissed dejectedly, eyes watery and despondent. Pause. Sucking in his bottom lip, Arthur continued urgently. “I loved him I…even after everything he did. I still love him.” Trembling, shame consuming him, Arthur took a step backwards furiously.
“What kind of man does that make me?”
“Not a good one.”
Burying his face into his hands, Arthur groaned dismally. Not a good one. He already knew that, he just didn’t want to hear it from the one person whose view of him mattered the most. Panic flushed through him. He shouldn’t have told Merlin, he should have allowed this secret to haunt him instead. He heard Merlin’s feet crunching against the stones. But instead of growing fainter, the sound grew louder. Arthur hitched a breath nervously as it all descended back into silence. He could feel Merlin was close to him now.
“It makes you a better one, Arthur.”
Arthur lowered his hands, stunned by the confession. Meeting Merlin’s enigmatic eyes, he stared in confusion. It took a few seconds to regain composure, in which he asked his final question, quiet voice trailing out into the sunset.
“Do you think,” he laughed, ducking his head slightly at the thoughts in his head. Merlin remained silent, but his proximity was enough encouragement for Arthur to continue.
“Do you think now he’s gone that- that he’s watching too?”
“No.” Merlin replied quickly, watching their voices dance around the sky between the final few specs of wispy cloud.
He turned to Arthur warmly. Arthur’s lips revealed the ends of a forbidden smile, as they admired the golden beginning in front of them.
“I think that he’s learning.”
♦☼♦
The room was dark, scarcely lit. The sense of sound was far more reliable than that of sight. Despite the darkness, her eyes were clasped shut tightly. A voice resounded from the other side of the room. Light trickled in slowly. It hurt, the light hurt. It burnt her eyelids, pummelling them with blotches of purple and crimson. She cowered back into the shadows, inhaling a shaky breath of air.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” A new voice whispered. Pause. “You’re safe now, I’ve found you.”
“Wh-where, where am I?” The woman in the shadows shrieked, stumbling backwards from the voice in despair. “Where am I?”
“All of Camelot have been searching for you.” The voice said, not answering the question. The voice spoke again, full of disappointment and regret.
“They didn’t come-”
“-They didn’t know…” the woman snapped back quickly, gasping for air as shock clouded her system. “Th-they would have come. They would have-” Immediately her resolve broke as she clasped a hand to her mouth, pushing back the tears in her throbbing eyes.
“They knew-” the other voice said slowly.
“-Why should I trust you?” the other woman spat vehemently.
“Because it’s become perfectly clear that you can no longer
trust anyone else. It’s okay. I understand what it’s like, to be abandoned by those you love, to be completely tossed into darkness.” she drew the woman on the ground into her arms. “All we have, is each other now.”
“Yes. You’re right, sister.”