A/N: Okay, this idea wouldn't let me alone all day! Though it is possible that I may one day write a story revolving around it, I think it may be a one-shot for now. Oh, I'll tell you now so I don't ruin the ending's effect: REVIEW!

I don't own Merlin, but I do own this story, so no touchie without permission!


Arthur leaned back against the tree, sighing and looking out over the fresh green fields that stretched out in front of him. Behind him were the woods in which he lived, at least for now.

"Long time no see, huh?" he said aloud, eyes on the sky.

Of course there was no answer; he hadn't expected one. Had he received one, he'd have been very alarmed… That which he was talking to should not be able to speak.

"Summertime again. It's so beautiful out here. Especially the flowers. Gwen loves the wildflowers." His voice had a dreamy quality to it, and despite the cheerful tone, one could hear the sadness behind it. Not a new, burning sadness, but an old one… One that he had long since become accustomed to, and couldn't even remember himself without it. His hands rested on the rough material in his pants, and he rubbed them back and forth to make them tingle pleasantly.

"The farm is doing well."

The only sound was that of the wind rustling the top of the trees impatiently. Arthur smiled up at them as though they had said something.

"Alright," he said with a chuckle, "so I don't like it. I'm not a farmer. It's still okay. Things will change someday… hopefully soon, Gwen and I will be able to go back to Camelot."

The wind stopped, and Arthur leaned forward, moving his hands to his hair and mussing it. "You're still easy to talk to, you know that? Even now, here I am, telling you about my dreams." He looked away from the sky and the trees and down to the one thing that sat in the middle of the field other than himself. The one thing that brought him here to this piece of land, week after week.

"I miss you," he found himself saying softly, as though he didn't want to admit it to himself. "Every day, I miss you. I wish you hadn't gone away. It wasn't fair. I wish you would come back. Even after all this time, I want you to come back so much that it is painful. But you won't, will you? Never."

The wind was still, as was the rest of the lovely, relaxing field. Arthur frowned slightly, but tried to pull up the corners of his mouth into a solemn smile… The lump in his throat prevented it.

"Arthur!" came the call across the field, making him look up and blink back the water in his eyes. Gwen, her hair pulled into a loose bun, her simple frock making her all the more beautiful in his eyes, stood near the edge of the woods. She was smiling, and he found his own lips subconsciously twitching upward.

She made her way slowly but surely across the field, reminding him of a summer breeze—gentle and warm, the skirt that covered her legs billowing and hair flying playfully into her face.

She brushed it away with one hand; the other was filled with a bunch of flowers.

"Guinevere," he greeted her happily.

"Am I interrupting you?"

"No, you aren't. I was just… talking."

She smiled softly, her brown cheek dimpling. "I see."

"That's so easy right here…" he explained, but she cut him off by waving her hand in an I-understand-completely gesture. "I was just about to go, though," he added.

"That's wise, as dinner is on the table for you. You run along. I'll be there in a minute."

He stood up immediately—he always did as his small, strong-minded woman told him to without question. Stepping forward, he gave her one soft, possessive kiss, which she accepted. Then he turned and walked away, towards the little home in the woods, his steps assured but slow.

If Gwen was the summer wind, he was the summer sun—sometimes harsh, but steady, strong, and quiet. He didn't look back.

She watched him until he was just too far away to hear her speak, and then turned to the stone that stuck up from the ground in the field as though it had grown there.

"He misses you," she whispered, pushing the hair from her face again— the wind was acting up once more. "So do I."

She clutched the flowers that she'd picked to herself and continued, "But I'm not here to complain. I'm sure Arthur did that enough. I'm here to thank you again."

She sighed. The day was so beautiful, but so sober. Or was it just the dull ache in her chest, the one that had been there for a long time now? She, too, couldn't remember a time without it. It was a part of her now.

"Thank you. Thank you. For Arthur, for keeping him safe for me… Thank you for keeping him alive for me. You saved him, watched over him. And your still doing it now, aren't you? Thank you, from the bottom of my heart… I just love him so much." Her voice cracked, and she had to stop, bite her tongue, catch her breath.

She was just so grateful. For herself, for Arthur…

Her hands pressed against her brown eyes, holding back the tears… When she looked up again, she was back to normal.

Starting again, determined to stay strong, she said, "I'll see you again one day. I know I will, and Arthur too… He can't wait." She smiled. "Until then, rest easy. I'm sure we'll be back for more visits."

The wind settled back down. Gwen cast one look at the sky, then bent down to place her flowers lovingly against the peaceful grave. She stood up, back straight, and followed her prince's path back to her home. Like Arthur, she didn't look back.

Behind her, the breeze picked up one last time, touching the petals of her white flowers and brushing them up against the letters carved clumsily into the stone. They dipped into the indentions and clung to the corners of the etching that spelled out, simply:

Merlin

Warlock, Friend, Hero

Rest Peacefully