"Two years today," Gwen muttered, staring down at the baby she held in her lap. He was only a little over a year old; he could babble a couple of discernible words, and he looked as though he understood some of what Guinevere said to him. He could walk, however, and he spent most of the time in her lap trying to wriggle away and go look at things. Occasionally, during a council meeting or something, she would let him run loose. He would toddle about pulling the robes of the more distinguished men. He liked to grin at the servants who stood along the edges of the room. And Sir Percival was a special favorite of his.

But today she held him in her lap, because some of the people grew annoyed with him. Besides, the doors were open. And he was her baby and he was cute and therefore she would hold him.

Technically, she supposed, she should leave him with a nurse. However, she felt it was good for the people to see exactly why they were allowing an ex-peasant girl to rule the kingdom; because she was raising the only son of the Golden King, and someday he would be king. Besides, the last noble who had tried to incite a rebellion against her had been swiftly executed. Guinevere had a pretty face and a kind smile, but she was a queen and she would not be trifled with.

"I wonder if they'll say anything," she said to the baby.

He gurgled in irritation that he wasn't being put down.

The people were beginning to file into her council chambers, going to take their seats at the round table. Guinevere sat at the seat Arthur used to fill. As he passed, Sir Leon took a moment to put a hand on her shoulder and smile supportively.

"Well," Gwen said to the baby as he looked up at her. "Looks as though Leon remembers, huh?"

"Down," said the baby.

"No," said the mother.

As the men (mostly older men – a meeting of knights looked entirely different… Still, Leon and Percival were always invited to these on principle) took their seats, Guinevere sat up straighter, pulling the baby closer.

"I would like to thank you all for coming," said Guinevere as she looked out over the men.

"Ooh!" shouted the baby as he leapt forward, trying to wrap his pudgy little fist around Griflet's jeweled amulet.

"And Arthur here would like to thank you as well," Guinevere added dryly.

There was general laughter.

"As you might know, it has been two years since I have taken the throne, and I have had to make some changes in those years." Two years, thought Gwen. Two years since Arthur was declared dead.

Two years, thought Percival. Two years since Gwaine had crumbled in his arms and died, neither embattled nor drunk – exactly as he would not have wanted.

Two years, thought Gaius. Two year since Merlin simply never came back.

"But I think," Guinevere said, "that we have made real progress, and we should all be proud."

Polite applause.

"We do, however, have some general –"

BOOM. A whooshing sound rushed through the air, and sudden wind blew Guinevere's hair all about her face. Someone squawked. Both Percival and Leon went for their swords and jumped from their seats.

There, not far from the table, near the corner of the room, a sudden tornado rose from the ground, sending papers flying and roaring in everyone's ears. Gwen clutched the baby close, rising from her seat – if it was an attacker, she was ready to run.

But what else could it be? Magic might have been legalized, but it was still frowned upon to enter a private meeting in such a way, naturally. If this wasn't an attack, wouldn't they come through the door?

But just as suddenly as the wind started, it stopped, and suddenly there was a new figure in the room – a figure huddled on the floor as though trying to rise to its feet, head bowed. His hair was longer than Guinevere remembered, and he was covered in dirt. He was missing the neckerchief and he looked thinner. And he was obviously sporting at least one or two injuries, judging by the red.

Guinevere held Arthur even closer as she gasped, "Merlin?"

Merlin coughed weakly.

Percival had dropped his sword and was already at Merlin's side, one hand on the man's shoulder, assessing his health and asking quiet questions. "Merlin?" said the large man. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt?"

Merlin struggled to rise and Percival put one oversized shoulder to the task of helping. Merlin lifted his face – bloodshot blue eyes, flitting around. He was breathing hard. He was barely awake.

"What happened?" Guinevere said (mostly to herself), and she handed her child to Leon. "Leon, take Arthur, bring him to his nurse. Gaius, prepare your chambers – Percival and I will make sure he gets there."

Gaius (eyes filled with something wet, stumbling his way, but professional as ever) made for the door.

And over in the corner, Merlin looked up at Percival, and his eyes lit up. "Percival," he whispered.

"It's me," Percival agreed out loud, though he'd already spoken more than was customary for him.

"I'm home. Hey, Percival, hey, guess what," Merlin chuckled weakly. "I'm immortal."

And then he collapsed, unconscious, into the larger man's grip.

"Meeting dismissed until further notice," Guinevere announced almost shrilly as she nearly ran over to the two men.

Meanwhile Leon adjusted the baby as comfortably as he could on his chainmail, let the child coo, and said to the wriggling thing, "That's Merlin. Don't worry, you'll like him."

A/N: I have an image of the entirety of Camelot somehow being nursemaids for Gwen when she needs to pass off baby Arthur for a bit. Also, feedback. I'm not sure if I'll update, or how much, or when, though if I do I know where I want the story to go. So let me know what you think please.