Prologue: Ils Dorment

Merlin watches his best friend drift out of sight, the flames licking at his body. He has failed and Arthur is dead. He stands there and he stares, rivulets of tears flowing down his cheeks. It is only when Arthur is entirely out of sight—only smoke is visible anymore— that he resigns himself to return to Camelot. Guinevere must know and it seems only fitting that he should tell her; Guinevere is, perhaps, the only person as dedicated to Arthur as himself. She must be informed and he must do it.

He is somewhat aware that his feet are now moving in the direction of Camelot, though he's not sure it's of his own volition. A notion occurs to him, a plan: Arthur will return one day, when he is needed. It is prophesised, it will be. But what of Camelot? Is he to let it fall to ruin as the years go by? He cannot. He will not. He knows what he must do.

Before he realises it, the kingdom is before him. Then he's on the steps of the palace and, suddenly, is now in the throne room. All this he only dimly perceives.

Gwen is in front of him; she has been waiting. She looks up at him hopefully, her eyes begging him to tell her that everything is all right, that Arthur is somewhere safe and that he is healing, that he'll survive. All of these reassurances she asks of him with naught but a look. She looks back and forth between his eyes, searching for an answer, praying for that glimmer of hope that is so often in Merlin's eyes; but when he offers no response, no comforting words, she knows the truth. Arthur... Her Arthur is dead.

"No..." She whispers, "Please... Please, no..." She buries her face in her hands and begins to cry. Merlin encompasses her in his arms as she cries. He strokes her hair gently.

"Codladh ar feadh tamaill, gach." Merlin murmurs, his eyes flashing gold. Gwen becomes limp in his arms and he lifts her, carrying her to Arthur's chambers and laying her on the bed. "Tá tú an eochair." He incants as he brushes the hair back from her forehead.

One day, there will begin rumours, tales of a beauty asleep, though these stories will become corroded. The queen will become a princess, waiting for her prince (no longer a king) to save her. Merlin will laugh at this, will laugh at the tale Charles Perrault will spin. It will amuse him immensely before that great sorrow will creep back into his lined face.

He whispers a goodbye and makes sure she will be comfortable before leaving the room.

As he walks through the halls, he sees the knights who had been on guard slumped against the wall, fast asleep. He sees more of this on his way to Gaius's quarters. There, in his chair, the physician is deeply asleep, mouth hanging open slightly. Merlin walks over and lifts him, too, and puts him to bed. He carefully pushes his mouth closed. No need for dry mouth, he thinks. He kisses Gaius's forehead reverently.

"I'll see you when you wake." He promises the man who has always been like a father to him, ever since the day he first arrived in Camelot. He blinks back tears and touches the physician's hand for a moment, "See you later, Gaius." His eyes are wet and his voice trembles . He forces himself from the quarters before the tears will flow in earnest.

After a quick check to confirm that the whole kingdom sleeps, he walks to the horses' stable. They are awake, for the spell is meant only for humans residing there. He chooses a white mare, takes her by her reins, and leaves the enclosure of the kingdom. He gazes at Camelot for a moment, remembering all that he has experienced there. The joys, the sorrows... All of that will be put on hold. It is goodbye, Merlin thinks, but not forever. I will see them again.

"Ní bheidh Am dochar." He breathes, thus protecting and hiding the kingdom from time. To all in Merlin's time, it will stand proud and tall; they will see it and they will remember what has transpired. They may explore, but Merlin has insured that no harm can come. To future generations... They will see only a vast, impenetrable forest and those who enter (for they can see Camelot, still) will appear only to enter the forest. Future generations will not enter, for approaching will fill them with dread and unease. Time will not touch Camelot, nor those who live there. Camelot will remain asleep.

This done, he mounts the mare and rides off into the forest.