Those Who Waited (BBC Merlin)

Chapter 24: Reconciliation

It was almost wrong.

The lake had been so ardently hidden for so many centuries, it was a bit surprising the whole land didn't crack and shake at the car's invasion, or the sudden mass population compared to its previous singular inhabitant. The sky didn't rain fire, the clouds weren't even darker than a pale grey, and the ground did not split open and swallow so much as an insect. Nature didn't seem to react, the universe didn't seem to care.

Merlin had spent so long waiting and watching and carefully studying the shore for even a hint of disturbance, that the man suddenly standing there blocked too much light, and the lines of his figure did not blend into the water the way the dirt and plants did. So many days of an empty world, and now it was too crowded.

It was Lillian who spoke first. Not the two knights whose souls had been waiting patiently, fighting valiantly in the secret name of their leader. Not his soulmate queen, who had awakened only for him. Not the man who had the power to live eternally, and had spent that eternity at the site of his grave in wait.

"Arthur," she called, stepping slowly so that she stood in front of the knights and Rowanna, but just behind Merlin and Gwen. The blonde head twitched slightly, as he probably turned it to face the girl speaking to him, but the setting sun threw his face into shadow. "You must be a bit confused."

He nodded, light bouncing off his golden hair as it moved. Lillian made a sort of hum, somehow between a coo and a giggle, before Gwen yelped at Merlin's side. His cobalt eyes widened slightly, tugging him just out of his stupor enough to remember that others were beside him, as Gwen leaned forward and frowned. The brunette rubbed the back of her shoulder where Lillian had not-so-gently punched her, urging her to step forward.

Gwen's voice shook and she felt far too awkward to even breath. "Hello, Arthur," she started. "We...we've come to...well, to meet you, I suppose," she tried, biting her lip.

"Guinevere," the voice was raspy and quiet, but not from uncertainty. Gwen found herself sure of this conclusion, and her head nodded rapidly without her consent. He sounded the opposite actually, when he said her name, as though it was the only thing he was certain of. Her knees buckled as she took hurried, uncalculated steps toward him.

She half-fell into him, but arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist and her legs hardly needed to work. Her body wasn't quite touching his, just centimeters away, but she could feel warmth radiating from his chest and the dips and hills of his arms around her felt as though they'd been molded specifically for every line of hers.

"Guinevere," he said again, his breath tickling her face as he made no other move to get closer to her. He just held her balanced, and murmured her name once more and Gwen held still as she catalogued it all. She had never met this man in her twenty-one years of life, never seen him on the street or in a class, never even as a suggestion on Facebook or even a person who looked just like him. And yet standing close to him felt warmer, safer, and better than her childhood bed, or her favorite cozy little sweets shop in her hometown, or sitting in the car with her brother and dad on the way to the beach.

"Arthur," she responded quietly, and she realized her eyes were closed when she felt rather than saw him smile. She hastily opened them though, wanting to see his pink lips stretch and part slightly to reveal white teeth, and his diamond blue eyes sparkle and crinkle at the corners. She knew this image, predicted these pieces before she saw them.

His palms were rough but gentle as they slid up the sides of her neck and cupped her jaw, his thumbs similar as they rubbed her cheeks. Gwen noticed his fingers on her face felt wet, too. He tilted his head and leaned back to look into her eyes, and his amazed smile fell into a smirk. He continued wiping the tears, and his eyes left hers for barely a second to look down her body.