FIC: She Dreams With an Open Heart (Arthur/Gwen, PG) 11/
Time passes and Arthur finds himself sitting on the fallen log alongside Merlin.
“I don’t know what to say,” Merlin admits, studying the crestfallen face of his friend. Though few words had been said between the king and his dear friend, there didn’t have to be: Arthur wanted more than anything to win Gwen’s forgiveness; she wanted nothing more than to leave him. It strikes the warlock then that there was a time when Arthur used to get what he wanted whenever he wanted. The heart-wrenching exchange between him and Gwen shows how far he’s come from that spoilt prince Merlin first knew and Arthur’s crushed countenance reminds him that war has brought out the defeatist attitude- in them both.
“How about ‘I told you so’?” Arthur responds wryly.
Merlin’s lips quirk. “How about ‘I’m glad you’re alive’?”
Arthur snorts, but doesn’t lift his face from the ground.
“I was surprised to find you here,” Merlin muses. “Very surprised. How did you get here anyway?”
“Morgana.”
Merlin’s eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline. “Morgana?”
“Surprised to see her here?”
“Surprised to see her alive,” he admits. “I thought- she vanished... and I, I don’t know. I thought maybe... I thought she was dead.” And then in a voice so quiet he says, “I feared it.”
Arthur glances up at him them and fixes him with a knowing look, but doesn’t call him up on the matter. “Yeah well, Morgana is very much alive. She’s been watching over Gwen this whole time.”
Merlin hesitates, not wanting to say aloud what he desperately wanted to ask. “You trust her?”
“She practically gave me her word.”
Merlin’s hesitation does not abate and he does not want to admit to Arthur that Morgana’s word means near to nothing to him.
As if reading his mind, Arthur says, “You should talk to her, Merlin. The two of you have much to discuss.”
“Right, because that conversation will go down well. ‘Oh hi, Morgana, how are you? Remember that time we tried to kill each other, and oh, that time I poisoned you? Wasn’t that a laugh? Fancy a drink down in the tavern and let our bygones be bygones?’ Yeah, really looking forward to that.”
“As opposed to studiously avoiding each other for the rest of your lives? What happened between the two of you is horrible, but it doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Since when did you become such a philosopher?” he wonders.
“Round about the time I became an expert with relationships, clearly,” Arthur murmurs sombrely.
Merlin studies his friend. “It can be fixed between the two of you, you know. She just needs time.”
“So Morgana said. But the expression on Gwen’s face...! I haven’t seen her that disgusted with me since before you came to Camelot and truthfully, I don’t know if she can forgive me.” Arthur pauses. “But she’s alive,” he adds.
“She’s alive,” Merlin confirms.
“Then that’s all that really matters.”
Silence falls between the two of them as they get lost in their own worlds, their thoughts being thrown into distant, far places.
Finally, Arthur speaks. “What happened in Camelot, Merlin?”
“Terrible things,” Merlin admits. “I’ve seen and done things I never thought I’d do.”
“War doesn’t exactly enhance our best attributes.”
Merlin nods almost imperceptibly. “Morgause is dead,” he offers after a moment.
Arthur exhales. “That’s good.”
Merlin looks at him hesitantly. “Gaius is also dead,” he adds, voice quivering slightly.
Arthur’s eyes widen in shock. “Gaius?”
“Yeah, he sacrificed himself to buy me more time against Morgause.” He looks distraught now. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Oh Gaius.” Arthur thinks of the man he’d regarded with such respect and can’t quite believe he’s gone.
Silence falls again, then Arthur speaks. “I lost a lot of men on the battlefield,” he says mournfully. “Lancelot came back, you know. He heard about the war and came to help.”
Merlin’s demeanour brightened. “Lancelot?”
His happiness immediately evaporates when he sees the pained expression on Arthur’s face. “Oh,” he says.
Arthur closes his eyes, but sees only the fallen body of a much cherished comrade on the ground. “I should have sent him away.”
“He wouldn’t have let you. He would have wanted to fight.”
Arthur’s lips quirk. “Indeed. He was a foolish man, but a brave one at that and I was devastated at his loss.” It occurs to him that he would have to tell Gwen about Lancelot at some point, because she would want to know and yet the idea of breaking more bad news to her sickens him more than the time Lancelot had rescued Gwen from Hengist and Arthur thought he’d lost her. He sighs. He’d give anything to trade his present life for a time when jealousy was his biggest heartache.
“There have been many losses,” Merlin muses. “Makes you realise how cheap someone’s life can be: here one moment, gone the next. I just hope that in the end, their losses are worth it.”
“It will be. Whatever it takes, Camelot will be safe again.” But Arthur doesn’t know if Camelot even matters anymore. With his estrangement from Gwen, everything he loved about Camelot reduced to rubble and dust and people he’d held so fondly now dead, being King of a faraway kingdom suddenly seems immaterial.
Out here, it’s easy to pretend that Camelot doesn’t exist, that his battle wounds aren’t real and his problems are fictional and for a few moments he allows himself to simply believe.
+
Part Twelve
“I don’t know what to say,” Merlin admits, studying the crestfallen face of his friend. Though few words had been said between the king and his dear friend, there didn’t have to be: Arthur wanted more than anything to win Gwen’s forgiveness; she wanted nothing more than to leave him. It strikes the warlock then that there was a time when Arthur used to get what he wanted whenever he wanted. The heart-wrenching exchange between him and Gwen shows how far he’s come from that spoilt prince Merlin first knew and Arthur’s crushed countenance reminds him that war has brought out the defeatist attitude- in them both.
“How about ‘I told you so’?” Arthur responds wryly.
Merlin’s lips quirk. “How about ‘I’m glad you’re alive’?”
Arthur snorts, but doesn’t lift his face from the ground.
“I was surprised to find you here,” Merlin muses. “Very surprised. How did you get here anyway?”
“Morgana.”
Merlin’s eyebrows practically shoot up to his hairline. “Morgana?”
“Surprised to see her here?”
“Surprised to see her alive,” he admits. “I thought- she vanished... and I, I don’t know. I thought maybe... I thought she was dead.” And then in a voice so quiet he says, “I feared it.”
Arthur glances up at him them and fixes him with a knowing look, but doesn’t call him up on the matter. “Yeah well, Morgana is very much alive. She’s been watching over Gwen this whole time.”
Merlin hesitates, not wanting to say aloud what he desperately wanted to ask. “You trust her?”
“She practically gave me her word.”
Merlin’s hesitation does not abate and he does not want to admit to Arthur that Morgana’s word means near to nothing to him.
As if reading his mind, Arthur says, “You should talk to her, Merlin. The two of you have much to discuss.”
“Right, because that conversation will go down well. ‘Oh hi, Morgana, how are you? Remember that time we tried to kill each other, and oh, that time I poisoned you? Wasn’t that a laugh? Fancy a drink down in the tavern and let our bygones be bygones?’ Yeah, really looking forward to that.”
“As opposed to studiously avoiding each other for the rest of your lives? What happened between the two of you is horrible, but it doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Since when did you become such a philosopher?” he wonders.
“Round about the time I became an expert with relationships, clearly,” Arthur murmurs sombrely.
Merlin studies his friend. “It can be fixed between the two of you, you know. She just needs time.”
“So Morgana said. But the expression on Gwen’s face...! I haven’t seen her that disgusted with me since before you came to Camelot and truthfully, I don’t know if she can forgive me.” Arthur pauses. “But she’s alive,” he adds.
“She’s alive,” Merlin confirms.
“Then that’s all that really matters.”
Silence falls between the two of them as they get lost in their own worlds, their thoughts being thrown into distant, far places.
Finally, Arthur speaks. “What happened in Camelot, Merlin?”
“Terrible things,” Merlin admits. “I’ve seen and done things I never thought I’d do.”
“War doesn’t exactly enhance our best attributes.”
Merlin nods almost imperceptibly. “Morgause is dead,” he offers after a moment.
Arthur exhales. “That’s good.”
Merlin looks at him hesitantly. “Gaius is also dead,” he adds, voice quivering slightly.
Arthur’s eyes widen in shock. “Gaius?”
“Yeah, he sacrificed himself to buy me more time against Morgause.” He looks distraught now. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Oh Gaius.” Arthur thinks of the man he’d regarded with such respect and can’t quite believe he’s gone.
Silence falls again, then Arthur speaks. “I lost a lot of men on the battlefield,” he says mournfully. “Lancelot came back, you know. He heard about the war and came to help.”
Merlin’s demeanour brightened. “Lancelot?”
His happiness immediately evaporates when he sees the pained expression on Arthur’s face. “Oh,” he says.
Arthur closes his eyes, but sees only the fallen body of a much cherished comrade on the ground. “I should have sent him away.”
“He wouldn’t have let you. He would have wanted to fight.”
Arthur’s lips quirk. “Indeed. He was a foolish man, but a brave one at that and I was devastated at his loss.” It occurs to him that he would have to tell Gwen about Lancelot at some point, because she would want to know and yet the idea of breaking more bad news to her sickens him more than the time Lancelot had rescued Gwen from Hengist and Arthur thought he’d lost her. He sighs. He’d give anything to trade his present life for a time when jealousy was his biggest heartache.
“There have been many losses,” Merlin muses. “Makes you realise how cheap someone’s life can be: here one moment, gone the next. I just hope that in the end, their losses are worth it.”
“It will be. Whatever it takes, Camelot will be safe again.” But Arthur doesn’t know if Camelot even matters anymore. With his estrangement from Gwen, everything he loved about Camelot reduced to rubble and dust and people he’d held so fondly now dead, being King of a faraway kingdom suddenly seems immaterial.
Out here, it’s easy to pretend that Camelot doesn’t exist, that his battle wounds aren’t real and his problems are fictional and for a few moments he allows himself to simply believe.
+
Part Twelve