For the Ones We Love (Merlin Fan Fiction)

Epilogue

Smiling, I looked down at the baby in my arms. As soon as I set my eyes on him, I saw he had his father's eyes and ears. He was beautiful.

"It's a boy," I announced happily, quickly wrapping him in a soft blanket. "What are you going to name him?" I asked as I placed him in his mother's arms.

The new mother smiled down at her baby for a long moment before first glancing at me, then at the boy's father and then once more at me. "Gwaine," she answered. "In honor of your brother. In honor of you."

I smiled, a touch of sadness on my lips as a pang of grievance hit me in the chest. My brother's death had been unfair--he had not deserved to die--but he had died with honor. He had died a hero.

Leaving the couple alone with their newborn, I stepped outside my tent into the center of camp. I looked around, observing the everyday life of the druids. Much had changed over the many years since I had left Camelot for good. After my predecessor's passing, I'd taken over his duties, thus I was no longer called Cleo but "Healer" instead. However, some still called me Cleo... namely my friends in Camelot.

Gwen's promise to always have a place to offer me was still valid, even now as she went about her duties as queen of Camelot. Of course, I had kept in touch with Merlin, at first by way of clandestine rendezvous in the woods and later--after the death of the late Arthur Pendragon, crowned king after his father's demise, and the passing of a new, sorcerer-friendly law--by way of not-so-clandestine picnics in the meadow.

My contact with Gracian was not so intact. He'd offered his loyalty to the royal guard as soon as he was old enough, however he didn't stay in that position long for he was almost immediately knighted and invited to join the round table.

"Healer!"

I turned quickly and reentered the tent as soon as the new father called for me. "Yes?" I asked. "Is there something wrong?"

"I think it's time the two of them get some rest," he told me quietly. He did not look at me as he spoke but rather smiled down at his baby and the baby's mother. I recognized the look of love in his eyes. I could tell he felt it strongly for both of them and I marveled at how he could be in love with a child who he had known no more than a mere few minutes.

"I think you're right," I replied. Gently, I retrieved the infant from the woman's arms and placed him in a small craddle beside her cot. After cleaning them both up a bit, I stepped back out of the tent so they could have some privacy as they slept. I left the father with them, trusting him to come get me if I was needed.

Once again I observed the camp. In my mind's eye, I saw a flash of mossy green dip around a corner and disappear behind a tent. I recognized the color of Mordred's old cloak and smiled sadly yet again as another stab of grief hit me. I did not get to watch the boy grow up. He never once returned to the druid camp. However, like Gracian, he was knighted and joined the round table before his death. He had died in the same battle as Arthur and Gwian, although he had unfortunately not been on the same side. Sometimes I wondered if I could have changed that by not ever leaving the druids. I knew, though, that had I not left the druids, he, and many others, might have died much sooner.

I sighed. I felt so very old. Had all this pain and heartache, yet all the love and happiness, all the adventure really happened within one lifetime, let alone ten years?

I sighed again, knowing that, yes, all of that had happened within one lifetime--within my lifetime--and despite it, I was still young, I still had things to experience. I didn't know exactly what was left to experience, but  I knew one thing for sure; the worst was over. The years ahead would be the best of my life.