Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story!

A/N: Oh my gosh, y'all! I'm so sorry about this late update! I hope you all saw my note in the description; we've been out of town and I've had a horrendous case of writer's block! I'm afraid it might show in this chapter; it's definitely not one of my best, but I think it turned out okay, in the end.

Reviewers:

Sam: Merlin and Arthur…hmm. Merlin will be in it, and Arthur will be in it. Merthur, however, will not. Nothing against anyone, but I just don't like that ship. Sorry! Actually, though, Arthur may or may not be in the next chapter! And not necessarily as the good guy! ;)

Tholey: They're going to be happy, I swear! Next chapter, in fact! Um, I just looked up Welsh village names on Google, and voila! :D

Camoc: Thank you! I know, me too…he's just awesome. *sigh* ;)

Chapter Nine

"You go in. I'll take care of the horses." Booker waited as Leon helped Gwen down from Cadfael, and then took up both sets of reins and trotted off. They'd been traveling for almost two days, and night was quickly falling over Rhydlafar. Anxiously, Leon escorted Gwen in the direction of his childhood home. A solitary light shone from his parent's bedroom window; the rest of the house was dark.

At the front door, Leon hesitated, not knowing if he should knock or just walk in. Deciding to knock, he raised his fist. Before it could make contact with the wood, however, the door flew open, revealing his mother, Elin. She stared at the two for a moment, wide-eyed, before launching herself into her son's arms.

"Mother...is he…?"

"No, Leon…he's still alive, but just barely. Please, hurry." As she spoke, Elin turned to Gwen with a slightly puzzled expression.

"You remember Guinevere, of course, Mother," Leon said as he bent down to unlace the tall, mud-caked boots on his feet. A hundred questions flew across Elin's face as she continued to stare bewilderedly at Gwen. After a moment, she seemed to recover her senses, and extended a hand.

"Come, Guinevere, you must be hungry." Smiling, Elin made to lead Gwen away from Leon and into the kitchen.

"She stays with me, Mother."

"But…"

"Gwen came here against the physician's wishes; back in Camelot, she was extremely sick, and, as you can see, she hasn't recovered fully yet. I promised Gaius I'd look after her. She stays with me." With that, Leon took Gwen's hand and stepped quietly into his father's chambers, where one glance at the bed caused Leon to reel back in shock.

"Oh, Father," he whispered, horrified at the physical state Aneirin was in. His father, once a bear of a man, had been reduced to a mere shadow. The green eyes, once so bright and merry, were dull and lifeless. His face was sunken, and the hand that rested on top of the blankets was frail and thin. How the mighty have fallen, Leon thought. Immediately, he was ashamed of himself, and, dropping Gwen's hand, sat gently on the side of Aneirin's bed.

"…Leon? My son…you've come home…"

"Yes, I'm here. I've missed you," Leon said, struggling to keep his voice steady. Carefully, he took his father's hand in his own, alarmed at how weak the grip was.

"Leon, I want you to listen carefully. I'm not long for this world, and I have something to tell you before I die." Aneirin spoke quietly, laboriously. He paused as Leon nodded his assent, and then continued. "I give you my blessing, if you will have it, to marry Guinevere. If it is she that makes you happy, then I would have you follow your heart, and take her to be your wife. I'm sure," he whispered, with the faintest hint of a smile, "that you would have married her regardless, but, if it means anything at all…"

"Father, it means everything. Thank you," Leon said, gripping Aneirin's hand tightly.

"I'm glad it's important to you, son."

At that moment, it seemed that a small piece of Leon's heart had died. Without looking up, he knew his father was dead. The mighty knight had fallen for the last time.

"Goodbye, daddy," Leon whispered as tears clouded his vision and threatened to choke him. "Your battle is over now."

The following morning

Rain fell like heaven's tears as Leon made his way to the river. Through blurred vision, he finally located the ledge that had been his and Gwen's refuge in the old days. Staggering across the rain-soaked riverbank, Leon sat heavily on the little cliff, and stared despondently into the depths of the water. He thought, not for the first time that day, that his world seemed to be falling apart.

"It's funny; I never thought fathers could die." A voice startled Leon out of thought, and he turned to see Gwen picking her way over the slippery rock towards him. "Or maybe I just thought mine wouldn't die until…I don't know, he was old, and had lived a good, long life. I was wrong…now both of our fathers are gone…"

"Gwen, your father did live a good life. He had you," Leon said quietly. "You'd make anybody's life better."

"I'm so sorry about Aneirin," Gwen said, leaning her head on Leon's shoulder. "He was a good man."

"I agree," Leon said, feeling tears once again well up in his eyes. "I'll miss him."

That evening

The pyre stood in the middle of a clearing – the same clearing, Leon thought with a pang, that Aneirin had visited to watch him duel on the eve of his departure to Camelot, all those months ago. Shrouded in flowing red and glistening armor, Aneirin lay atop the wood, his sword, Taranau, resting on his broad chest. The storm had moved on; ominous clouds had cleared to reveal a bloodred sunset.

With a deep breath to steel his resolve, Leon glanced down at his mother, who stood by his side. She nodded slowly, drawing in a deep, ragged breath that was etched with grief. "It's time," Elin said, gripping her son's hand as though her life depended on it.

Hesitantly, Leon grasped a flickering torch and advanced towards the pyre. For a moment, he simply stood, for the last time, at his father's side; it was taking all of his power to not drop the torch and run away. Suddenly, words from long ago flew through Leon's mind. It was a conversation he'd had with his father, many years ago. After a severe bout of illness that many feared would be the cause of his death, Aneirin had told Leon something that he had vowed never to forget.

"I do not fear death, my son. After many journeys and battles, I've learned something: Death is always near, waiting to strike any one of us, at any time. However, we don't let poisonous snakes stop us from exploring the woods, do we? No…nor do we let the threat of drowning keep us from the water. Leon, I want you always to live every day like it is your last day. Don't let the fear of death keep you from living the life you deserve."

"Goodbye, father…and… thank you." With a final, shuddering gasp, Leon let his hand fall. The wood immediately caught fire; within seconds, the pyre was surrounded by flame.

Woo, interesting chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed. Once again, I'm really sorry for the untimely update. Writer's block STINKS! Look for chapter ten on Sunday – I promise it will be Sunday, this time! As always, please read and review; it means a lot! See yall in a few days! :D