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"Please, sirs, calm down. There is no need for all of this... ruckus."
The owner of the tavern valiantly tried. He tried to stop the two men from beating each other to a bloody pulp. The problem was, there was nothing he could have done. The two men were renowned for the strength and determination. There was no way that one simple old man could have stopped them without being beaten himself. So, all he could do was watch as these two men, each clad in full armor, punched, and kicked, and slammed each other, over and over again.
"Nobody!" An elbow to the face.
"Says!" A kick.
"That!" A punch.
"About!" A tackle.
"My!" One more punch.
"Wife!" He knocked him out with one square blow to the head.
It was at this most unfortunate time that Merlin walked in.
"ARTHUR! GET OFF SIR PERCIVAL!"
He ran forward, pushing the brawny king off of the knight.
"Sire, what did he do?" Arthur stared at Merlin with a look of indifference and anger. It was a face that only a drunk man could have. "Sire, what could Sir Percival do to warrant this?" Once again, Arthur merely stared at him with his blue, glazed eyes. He either didn't comprehend what Merlin was saying, or simply couldn't care less. He tried once more. "SIRE!"
"Excuse me? Sir Merlin? I know what happened." The wrinkled tavern owner stepped up from behind the bar, newly confident now that there was somebody else who would take the beating. "I heard what Sir Percival said to his majesty."
"What was it then, if you please?"
"Sir Percival said that Queen Guinevere, God rest her soul, was a 'pretty little thing'."
Merlin looked at Arthur, whose indifference had now turned into sadness at once again hearing his dead wife's name. "Sire, I'll take you home." He looked at the old man. "Thank you so much, and sorry about the mess. I will fix all of it." He once again looked at his master. "Let's go, Arthur." He put his arm over his shoulders, and they began their trek back to the castle.
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Little was said in the first few minutes. They simply walked along the moonlit road, staring at the few villagers that were still awake at the late hour. Through open doors, they saw some families sitting by fires, and some speaking with each other. Arthur's breaking point came from one of those open doors.
In one house, there was a couple. They had just married. They danced slowly to no music, no words being spoken. They understood the love they each had for the other in a way that only the other could comprehend. They only broke the embrace to kiss, then began their slow dance again.
Arthur's sobs began to fill the air. He cried, and cried. He cried all the way until the castle. He cried as he walked the stairs to his room.
Merlin led Arthur to his bed, where they sat together. Still, no words were passed between them. As time went on, his cries became quieter and quieter. He eventually managed to stop himself.
"She was my everything, Merlin. I loved her to the very fiber of my being. I lived each day, because I knew that she was there. There was never a time that I questioned who I was. I knew. I was the man who loved Gwen. It is who I am- well, was, who I was."
Merlin stood up quickly, and looked at him. "No. That does not define you. Yes, you may mourn. Yes, you are allowed to still love her. But she did not make you who you are. You are still the greatest king Camelot has ever seen. You are still the leader of the finest army in the land. You are still an amazing person. She might be gone, but your people and your friends are not."
Arthur looked at him in shock. They were still for some time before Arthur spoke.
"Merlin?"
"Yes, Arthur?"
"Why did you never mourn for Gwen?"
"I did."
"The day after she died, you seemed completely unaffected. In fact, I had never seen you so focused. Why?"
"I knew how much she meant to you. I knew that you would weep for weeks. I never showed the sadness I felt when I was around you, so that you would remember the times before she died. So you could realize that life could go on without her." He grabbed his hand, and sat back down. "I did not want you to stop mourning, but I did want our king... my king... to come back." Merlin blushed, and Arthur looked solemnly forward.
"I suppose I do need to return to my people. I have spent long enough weeping her death. I... I can return." He looked at Merlin, and gave a small smile. "I... I can be who you need me to be, Merlin."
Merlin brushed a lock of hair out of Arthur's face.
"I would like that very much."