Take Thee To Avalon; Merlin
Title: Take Thee To Avalon
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, Morgana, Merlin, Llachau
Warnings: Implied character death
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When he's mortally wounded by Mordred, Morgana gives Arthur one last chance to see his nearest and dearest an relive events gone by.
Author Notes: Written for my prompt Monster, miki_hime1221 beta'd by sgmajorshipper lots of love to her <3
My Merlin Prompt Table
The clouds moved across the sky, gathering in numbers as the rain began to fall. It was a signal, the Queen knew, that it was the end. She stood in the shower of water, high on the Eastern tower. With a deep intake of breath she closed her eyes against the maddening wind that picked up. She could feel it.
It felt empty.
“You should come inside, Gwen. You’ll catch a chill.”
“I’m fine, Merlin. I need to-“
“You need to run this Kingdom whilst he’s gone,” he said standing by herself looking over the lands that they both called home, “There is no telling when the war will be over.”
“It’s already lost,” she admitted; defeated. “I can feel it. I can always feel it. I can feel him.”
“He’d not dead, Gwen.”
She shook her head at his words, “I’d know if he was. But something is wrong, something is. I’m telling you Merlin; no good will come of this.”
“You’re scaring me, Gwen.”
“Believe me Merlin, I’m scaring myself,” she attempted a smile but it failed to rise, “Where is Llacheu? I must speak with him.”
“He is on the training field, my lady, with his brothers,” he indicated to their left. Gwen looked over the wall and saw her three children stood facing each other. She’d watched each of them grow into respectable young men. Each of them went through the phrase their father had, become arrogant and overbearing but had each gotten over it as he has. If there was one thing in life she was proud of it was them. Each of them same, “Do you think him ready?”
“I think he is ready to try.”
X
A cloaked figure conjured into the middle of the Great Hall. A pair of light blue eyes could be seen beneath the hood, flashing with remembrance and a hint of regret. The material hung from her shoulders and swapped around her feet. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, so long now it came down to her waist.
She lowered her hood with both hands and studied the changed place she once knew so well. The circular table that adorned the centre of the room, with every chair the same, all spaced evenly. All within viewing of the King. Should he have sat there.
Her eyes fixed on the figure she knew so well. A little worn but time had been kind to her. She stood with a boy, a man, who was unmistakably a product of the two royals she once knew like siblings. He’d the King’s bright blue eyes, his strong jaw and wide set shoulders. He had his mother’s soft curls and her stony glare. He reached for his sword, stopped by his mother by her hand on his wrist.
“No,” was all she said, but she wasn’t speaking to her son. She looked directly at her old mistress. So sinister with the years gone by, but something so solemn about her, “No,” she repeated with a shake of her head.
“I’m sorry, Gwen,” was the first thing she said, “You should come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she released Llachau’s wrist and he reached for the hilt of his sword, leaving it in thee sheath.
“He wishes to see you; to see Merlin,” Morgana gestured towards the young man, “Your children-“
“We aren’t going anywhere with you,”
“Please. For Arthur.”
“You’ve killed him.”
“No, he’s alive.”
“Mother?” he was eying Morgana with great suspicion. He’d heard stories about a woman like her from Merlin. A sorceress; mislead to evil by her own sister. Turned against his father in a plight for the throne.
“It’s fine, Llacheu, we know her. We know her all too well.”
“Come with me, Gwen.”
Gwen regarded Morgana. She knew her so well still. She could see the sincerity in her eyes and the part of her old friend that she used to trust. Deep down Gwen knew what she said was the truth; “I’ll come with you.”
Llacheu held out his hand to stop her, “Mother-“
“Stay here, look after your brothers,” she ordered gently lowering his hand to his side, “I shan’t be gone long,” she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Llacheu exited the hall, wearily avoiding Morgana at all costs. As he exited the hall he graciously bowed his head to his mother who returned the motion. He turned away and into Merlin as he came to enter the hall. He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes transfixed to Morgana who stared him down.
“I wondered how long it would take you,” she said with a sneer.
“Morgana.”
“Merlin.”
“What is she doing here?” he said, staring straight at the only person he would consider a nemesis, aiming his words at his Queen and best friend.
“There’s not time, we must go,” Morgana said staring at Merlin. She turned her attention back to the woman who had changed the course of history forever. The Commoner Queen who was more respected than any other woman had ever been; “There isn’t time, Gwen. We must go now.”
“Why do you trust her?” Merlin asked her, still unable move.
“Because I can feel it. What she’s saying; I can feel it.”
X
The world around them span. Gwen felt sick. She stumbled as they landed. They were amidst the forest. She would never feel as home here, never feel safe. Before them was the entrance to a tent; “We’re here. I must warn you Gwen, he isn’t in the best of shapes, Mordred was brutal.”
“I want to see my husband now,” she said blankly. She held little time for Morgana. She’d lied to her, she’d tried to kill her, yet here she was believing her every word, “And I’m warning you now, if he isn’t inside this tent-“
“He’s there. I promise you.”
“Why do I not believe you?” Merlin retorted.
“Because your issues with trusting me will continually cloud your judgement.”
Gwen wearily entered the tent, holding back the curtain in the centre and searching for her husband. The King of Camelot was easily found in a small bed in the middle of the far tent wall. He was propped against the pillows, his eyes closed, his breathing weak and sporadic. She’d never seem him look so weak.
Her natural instinct over-took her whole being, driving her to his bedside, picking up the cloth that had been exposed to the cool water by his side. She ran it over his head, knowing deep down that no amount of human attention would bring him down from his fever or bring him all the way back to her. But she could try. She could make him comfortable.
“What happened, Arthur? You said you’d come back to me. You’ve never lied to me before,” she said, tears freely moving down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he said weakly, his words coming out in mere wisps.
“I could feel it, Arthur, I knew something was wrong. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I got the news I’ve always dreaded receiving.”
“I’m sorry,” she gently shushed him, putting the cloth back into the puddle of water that remained. She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his clammy hand in both of hers, bring it to her lips and kissing it softly, “I love you, Guinevere, I’ll always love you. Remember that.”
“Now is not the time for goodbyes, Arthur,” she said keeping her words strong, “You must keep your strength up.”
“There is little time left.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste the time we have with petty words.”
The spring air was warm as the servant hustled and bustled about the castle. It was a fine day. A fine day for a Royal Wedding. The first light bells sound with a more melodic rhythm than usual and the servants rose with an added spring in their step. The florist arrived at day break with their freshly cut flowers ready for the day.
Nothing was to go wrong. Not today.
The King stood at his window standing in his white shirt, leaning against the wall next to the window watching as his people started to arrange his day. Their day. The biggest day in the calendar for the longest time. He would class it above his own coronation.
The door behind him opened.
“My lady sends her best wishes,” the male who entered stated, “She says the man inside has finally come to life.”
“Good morning, Merlin.”
“Good morning, Arthur.”
“The castle staff are excited. Everything is working out perfectly,” Arthur turned back to look out of his window.
He smiled, “That it is.”
Gwen stood in front of the full length mirror as her handmaiden tightened the fastenings of the back of her bodice. The white material was the finest she had ever felt. The finest she had ever worn. She had insisted on a simple looking dress. It had layered fabrics with small patterns that she had drawn out herself, though the Royal seamstress had drawn the line at allowing the Queen to sew them herself.
A full set of curls adorned her head, simply laying down her back with small white flowers braided into the strands of hair that were pulled back. She felt every bit the divine beauty she looked.
She flattened her hands across the fabric. There had been a time when she’d never thought this day would come. The whole idea of it seemed so farfetched and out of her world that she had never deemed it likely. Now here she stood looking at her reflection as she prepared to marry the only man she had ever truly loved.
“We cannot relive the past forever.”
“No, but it is better to think of the positive than the negative,” she said gently stroking his hair from his forehead.
“I never wanted to leave you,” he said fragily, he rested his hand on his wife’s and gave it a gentle squeeze with the energy he had left, “I would have forfeited every war if it meant I got to spend eternity with you.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You would have hated yourself for not fighting for what you thought was right and just.”
“You wouldn’t be losing me now.”
“But I’d have lost you long before now to your own mind,” she bent to kiss his forehead. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes at her touch. He wanted to remember the feel of her, if he had to move on to the next life without her he didn’t want to lose all memory of her.
He opened his eyes and drunk in the image of her before him. Even in the midst of war she looked so regal and every bit the woman he’d always seen her to be.
A soft cough sounded behind her. They both looked towards the source of the noise. A small smile tugged on the King’s lips, “Merlin.”
“I waited as long as I could.”
“Join us, Merlin,” Gwen invited.
“I don’t like to interrupt.”
“Who are you kidding, Merlin,” Arthur coughed and moved so he was sitting against the pillows more comfortably, “You love to interrupt.”
“I never thought it would end like this,” he admitted, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. He had to remain strong, if only for Gwen.
“Really?” Arthur attempted a laugh, “It’s not exactly what I had planned either.”
“You were meant to go down in a blaze of glory.”
“I was meant to die of old age.”
“Anything but this.”
“I didn’t mean to fail you, Merlin,” he tried to laugh but his body was overcome with a hacking cough. His energy evaporated, and he settled down into the pillows struggling for breath, “Both of you,” he managed, “I love you both. Camelot is in safe hands.”
The strong façade that Gwen had been holding up faltered. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away; she didn’t want to cry now. She had to stay strong; for him.
“It’s time,” Morgana said in a soft voice. She appeared by Gwen’s side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, “Avalon awaits him.”
X
Amidst the trees surrounding the lake, three old friends stood one in the arms of the male as tears wracking her body. His shirt was clutched tightly in her fist; his arm was firmly around her shoulder rubbing in calming circles. Silent tears ran down his cheeks.
It shouldn’t have ended like this.
Charging through the forest towards the castle, Merlin had never seen his sovereign ride so fast, the horse sped past the trees along an unnegotiated path. Had he not seen the need in his eyes he would have told him to slow down.
Now was not the time.
They reached the courtyard at daybreak. The courtyard was devoid of people yet the King still jumped from his horse and took off into the castle, abandoning his horse, “Where is she?”
“In her chambers, my lord,” the unsuspecting servant answered with a slight stutter. He said his thanks as he ran towards the western wing.
He had come the second he had received news. The hunt for the Holy Grail could wait for him; Percival was more than capable of continuing the search without him. His wife needed him.
He slowed when he reached her chamber door; the guards standing outside parted. He briefly acknowledged them before reaching up to knock on the door. He waited until Margarite opened the door. She looked tired and a little ragged but she smiled at him all the same; “My lord,” she moved out of his eye line, welcoming him inside.
He couldn’t move.
There she was lying back in her bed cradling a small bundle in her arms. Never had she looked more beautiful.
“Congratulations, sire, you have been gifted with a son.”
He could do nothing but smile.
The small child in his wife’s arms had wide eyes, staring around at the vast world that surrounded him. He had bright blue eyes and a good set of dark curls on his head. Arthur slipped his hand around the nape of his wife’s neck and brought his lips to her forehead; “He’s perfect.”
The noble people of Camelot and surrounding Kingdoms gathered. Those at the front bowed their heads as the young man made his final steps to the throne. He turned to his people with a nervous smile on his face.
“I present to you, Llachau, King of Camelot,” Merlin announced.
Gwen stood by her throne and applauded her son with the congregation. She took his hand in support. His brothers stood by her other side watching on in pride. He was every bit the man his father was.
Like him, he was born to be King.
Authors: mydoctortennant
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, Morgana, Merlin, Llachau
Warnings: Implied character death
Disclaimer: Not real. Despite birthday wishes and night time prayers to Santa (all Hail Amy Pond!) Merlin still isn't mine!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When he's mortally wounded by Mordred, Morgana gives Arthur one last chance to see his nearest and dearest an relive events gone by.
Author Notes: Written for my prompt Monster, miki_hime1221 beta'd by sgmajorshipper lots of love to her <3
My Merlin Prompt Table
The clouds moved across the sky, gathering in numbers as the rain began to fall. It was a signal, the Queen knew, that it was the end. She stood in the shower of water, high on the Eastern tower. With a deep intake of breath she closed her eyes against the maddening wind that picked up. She could feel it.
It felt empty.
“You should come inside, Gwen. You’ll catch a chill.”
“I’m fine, Merlin. I need to-“
“You need to run this Kingdom whilst he’s gone,” he said standing by herself looking over the lands that they both called home, “There is no telling when the war will be over.”
“It’s already lost,” she admitted; defeated. “I can feel it. I can always feel it. I can feel him.”
“He’d not dead, Gwen.”
She shook her head at his words, “I’d know if he was. But something is wrong, something is. I’m telling you Merlin; no good will come of this.”
“You’re scaring me, Gwen.”
“Believe me Merlin, I’m scaring myself,” she attempted a smile but it failed to rise, “Where is Llacheu? I must speak with him.”
“He is on the training field, my lady, with his brothers,” he indicated to their left. Gwen looked over the wall and saw her three children stood facing each other. She’d watched each of them grow into respectable young men. Each of them went through the phrase their father had, become arrogant and overbearing but had each gotten over it as he has. If there was one thing in life she was proud of it was them. Each of them same, “Do you think him ready?”
“I think he is ready to try.”
X
A cloaked figure conjured into the middle of the Great Hall. A pair of light blue eyes could be seen beneath the hood, flashing with remembrance and a hint of regret. The material hung from her shoulders and swapped around her feet. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, so long now it came down to her waist.
She lowered her hood with both hands and studied the changed place she once knew so well. The circular table that adorned the centre of the room, with every chair the same, all spaced evenly. All within viewing of the King. Should he have sat there.
Her eyes fixed on the figure she knew so well. A little worn but time had been kind to her. She stood with a boy, a man, who was unmistakably a product of the two royals she once knew like siblings. He’d the King’s bright blue eyes, his strong jaw and wide set shoulders. He had his mother’s soft curls and her stony glare. He reached for his sword, stopped by his mother by her hand on his wrist.
“No,” was all she said, but she wasn’t speaking to her son. She looked directly at her old mistress. So sinister with the years gone by, but something so solemn about her, “No,” she repeated with a shake of her head.
“I’m sorry, Gwen,” was the first thing she said, “You should come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she released Llachau’s wrist and he reached for the hilt of his sword, leaving it in thee sheath.
“He wishes to see you; to see Merlin,” Morgana gestured towards the young man, “Your children-“
“We aren’t going anywhere with you,”
“Please. For Arthur.”
“You’ve killed him.”
“No, he’s alive.”
“Mother?” he was eying Morgana with great suspicion. He’d heard stories about a woman like her from Merlin. A sorceress; mislead to evil by her own sister. Turned against his father in a plight for the throne.
“It’s fine, Llacheu, we know her. We know her all too well.”
“Come with me, Gwen.”
Gwen regarded Morgana. She knew her so well still. She could see the sincerity in her eyes and the part of her old friend that she used to trust. Deep down Gwen knew what she said was the truth; “I’ll come with you.”
Llacheu held out his hand to stop her, “Mother-“
“Stay here, look after your brothers,” she ordered gently lowering his hand to his side, “I shan’t be gone long,” she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Llacheu exited the hall, wearily avoiding Morgana at all costs. As he exited the hall he graciously bowed his head to his mother who returned the motion. He turned away and into Merlin as he came to enter the hall. He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes transfixed to Morgana who stared him down.
“I wondered how long it would take you,” she said with a sneer.
“Morgana.”
“Merlin.”
“What is she doing here?” he said, staring straight at the only person he would consider a nemesis, aiming his words at his Queen and best friend.
“There’s not time, we must go,” Morgana said staring at Merlin. She turned her attention back to the woman who had changed the course of history forever. The Commoner Queen who was more respected than any other woman had ever been; “There isn’t time, Gwen. We must go now.”
“Why do you trust her?” Merlin asked her, still unable move.
“Because I can feel it. What she’s saying; I can feel it.”
X
The world around them span. Gwen felt sick. She stumbled as they landed. They were amidst the forest. She would never feel as home here, never feel safe. Before them was the entrance to a tent; “We’re here. I must warn you Gwen, he isn’t in the best of shapes, Mordred was brutal.”
“I want to see my husband now,” she said blankly. She held little time for Morgana. She’d lied to her, she’d tried to kill her, yet here she was believing her every word, “And I’m warning you now, if he isn’t inside this tent-“
“He’s there. I promise you.”
“Why do I not believe you?” Merlin retorted.
“Because your issues with trusting me will continually cloud your judgement.”
Gwen wearily entered the tent, holding back the curtain in the centre and searching for her husband. The King of Camelot was easily found in a small bed in the middle of the far tent wall. He was propped against the pillows, his eyes closed, his breathing weak and sporadic. She’d never seem him look so weak.
Her natural instinct over-took her whole being, driving her to his bedside, picking up the cloth that had been exposed to the cool water by his side. She ran it over his head, knowing deep down that no amount of human attention would bring him down from his fever or bring him all the way back to her. But she could try. She could make him comfortable.
“What happened, Arthur? You said you’d come back to me. You’ve never lied to me before,” she said, tears freely moving down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he said weakly, his words coming out in mere wisps.
“I could feel it, Arthur, I knew something was wrong. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I got the news I’ve always dreaded receiving.”
“I’m sorry,” she gently shushed him, putting the cloth back into the puddle of water that remained. She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his clammy hand in both of hers, bring it to her lips and kissing it softly, “I love you, Guinevere, I’ll always love you. Remember that.”
“Now is not the time for goodbyes, Arthur,” she said keeping her words strong, “You must keep your strength up.”
“There is little time left.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste the time we have with petty words.”
The spring air was warm as the servant hustled and bustled about the castle. It was a fine day. A fine day for a Royal Wedding. The first light bells sound with a more melodic rhythm than usual and the servants rose with an added spring in their step. The florist arrived at day break with their freshly cut flowers ready for the day.
Nothing was to go wrong. Not today.
The King stood at his window standing in his white shirt, leaning against the wall next to the window watching as his people started to arrange his day. Their day. The biggest day in the calendar for the longest time. He would class it above his own coronation.
The door behind him opened.
“My lady sends her best wishes,” the male who entered stated, “She says the man inside has finally come to life.”
“Good morning, Merlin.”
“Good morning, Arthur.”
“The castle staff are excited. Everything is working out perfectly,” Arthur turned back to look out of his window.
He smiled, “That it is.”
Gwen stood in front of the full length mirror as her handmaiden tightened the fastenings of the back of her bodice. The white material was the finest she had ever felt. The finest she had ever worn. She had insisted on a simple looking dress. It had layered fabrics with small patterns that she had drawn out herself, though the Royal seamstress had drawn the line at allowing the Queen to sew them herself.
A full set of curls adorned her head, simply laying down her back with small white flowers braided into the strands of hair that were pulled back. She felt every bit the divine beauty she looked.
She flattened her hands across the fabric. There had been a time when she’d never thought this day would come. The whole idea of it seemed so farfetched and out of her world that she had never deemed it likely. Now here she stood looking at her reflection as she prepared to marry the only man she had ever truly loved.
“We cannot relive the past forever.”
“No, but it is better to think of the positive than the negative,” she said gently stroking his hair from his forehead.
“I never wanted to leave you,” he said fragily, he rested his hand on his wife’s and gave it a gentle squeeze with the energy he had left, “I would have forfeited every war if it meant I got to spend eternity with you.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You would have hated yourself for not fighting for what you thought was right and just.”
“You wouldn’t be losing me now.”
“But I’d have lost you long before now to your own mind,” she bent to kiss his forehead. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes at her touch. He wanted to remember the feel of her, if he had to move on to the next life without her he didn’t want to lose all memory of her.
He opened his eyes and drunk in the image of her before him. Even in the midst of war she looked so regal and every bit the woman he’d always seen her to be.
A soft cough sounded behind her. They both looked towards the source of the noise. A small smile tugged on the King’s lips, “Merlin.”
“I waited as long as I could.”
“Join us, Merlin,” Gwen invited.
“I don’t like to interrupt.”
“Who are you kidding, Merlin,” Arthur coughed and moved so he was sitting against the pillows more comfortably, “You love to interrupt.”
“I never thought it would end like this,” he admitted, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. He had to remain strong, if only for Gwen.
“Really?” Arthur attempted a laugh, “It’s not exactly what I had planned either.”
“You were meant to go down in a blaze of glory.”
“I was meant to die of old age.”
“Anything but this.”
“I didn’t mean to fail you, Merlin,” he tried to laugh but his body was overcome with a hacking cough. His energy evaporated, and he settled down into the pillows struggling for breath, “Both of you,” he managed, “I love you both. Camelot is in safe hands.”
The strong façade that Gwen had been holding up faltered. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away; she didn’t want to cry now. She had to stay strong; for him.
“It’s time,” Morgana said in a soft voice. She appeared by Gwen’s side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, “Avalon awaits him.”
X
Amidst the trees surrounding the lake, three old friends stood one in the arms of the male as tears wracking her body. His shirt was clutched tightly in her fist; his arm was firmly around her shoulder rubbing in calming circles. Silent tears ran down his cheeks.
It shouldn’t have ended like this.
Charging through the forest towards the castle, Merlin had never seen his sovereign ride so fast, the horse sped past the trees along an unnegotiated path. Had he not seen the need in his eyes he would have told him to slow down.
Now was not the time.
They reached the courtyard at daybreak. The courtyard was devoid of people yet the King still jumped from his horse and took off into the castle, abandoning his horse, “Where is she?”
“In her chambers, my lord,” the unsuspecting servant answered with a slight stutter. He said his thanks as he ran towards the western wing.
He had come the second he had received news. The hunt for the Holy Grail could wait for him; Percival was more than capable of continuing the search without him. His wife needed him.
He slowed when he reached her chamber door; the guards standing outside parted. He briefly acknowledged them before reaching up to knock on the door. He waited until Margarite opened the door. She looked tired and a little ragged but she smiled at him all the same; “My lord,” she moved out of his eye line, welcoming him inside.
He couldn’t move.
There she was lying back in her bed cradling a small bundle in her arms. Never had she looked more beautiful.
“Congratulations, sire, you have been gifted with a son.”
He could do nothing but smile.
The small child in his wife’s arms had wide eyes, staring around at the vast world that surrounded him. He had bright blue eyes and a good set of dark curls on his head. Arthur slipped his hand around the nape of his wife’s neck and brought his lips to her forehead; “He’s perfect.”
The noble people of Camelot and surrounding Kingdoms gathered. Those at the front bowed their heads as the young man made his final steps to the throne. He turned to his people with a nervous smile on his face.
“I present to you, Llachau, King of Camelot,” Merlin announced.
Gwen stood by her throne and applauded her son with the congregation. She took his hand in support. His brothers stood by her other side watching on in pride. He was every bit the man his father was.
Like him, he was born to be King.