Epilogue

Every now and then, Gwen would sit at her round table and look at the faces of her council and consider how much things had changed over the years. Bert was the only original member of her court who was still there. The others had either retired or died from old age.

Three of the governors of the major cities attended to represent their people. Three elementals. Herself as the seventh, and Bert as the eighth, and the ninth was a volunteer chosen at random from the population and cycled every few years or so.

The matters they discussed were generally pretty mundane.

So-and-so wants this dispute settled. The arrival of visitors from some other dimension has caused a stir.The gates to a thousand strange worlds had reopened as soon as Camelot had been completed, and now a regular flow of new folks had begun.

Some of them stayed.

They had flying fish on the island now—literally fish that just swam through the air instead of water, which was rather enjoyable to watch. Gwen's dogs loved to chase them around, barking and trying to catch them, like they were squirrels.

Eod had passed on, as was the way with pets, many years ago now. But his lineage remained, and she had raised generations of his great-great-whatever-grand pups. She still missed them all, especially her best boy. But he had lived a long, healthy, happy life, and had chosen when it was his time to go. And that was the most anybody could ask for, she supposed.

Speaking of which, one of her dogs was asleep under the table on her feet, and she couldn't feel her toes.

"And now on to the final matter." One of the elementals, a creature of water named Iban, interrupted her thoughts. "One of the newest of our kind, an air elemental named Eulain, raided the supply depot of a merchant trader at the port. He refuses to give up what he stole. He is claiming that it is his by right."

Gwen sighed and shut her eyes, shaking her head. "And you've told him what'll happen now?"

"I have." Iban's lips thinned into a look of tired consternation. "Eulain's response was that he did ‘not believe the myths and stories,' and that he would ‘greet this so-called specter of death himself.'"

She shrugged. "Then it is what it is. We've warned him."

Iban pondered the statement for a moment. "Forgive me for asking, my queen. Perhaps it is because I am still new here, but… is the myth real?"

"That there is a deranged elemental who will murder anyone who dares breaks the peace of Avalon?" She smiled warmly, her tone not matching her words. It was on purpose. She'd had this conversation a lot over the past few centuries. "You could always find out for yourself if you wanted."

"I—no, I simply…I know those who transgress go missing, I simply did not know if it was you working to do such a thing, or…" Iban shifted in his seat nervously.

"I suppose I would be responsible for it, ultimately, if I let it continue." Gwen reached over for her goblet of wine, the light from the overhead chandelier of candles glinting off her steel finger. No one dared ask how she lost her finger anymore, and only Tim, Maewenn, and Bert knew. She suspected they enjoyed being on the "in" as much as anything else. Well, that and Tim couldn't talk.

It wasn't like she was trying to hide anything. Honestly, she'd had it for so long she honestly forgot it was there. It was just normal to her.

"But no," she finished. "I'm not responsible for the disappearances. It's just a myth."

"Then I suppose he shall find out for himself whether or not the myth of the impossible elemental is true." Iban reached for his own goblet of wine. "It will be no loss for our people."

"Do we have any other matters to discuss?" She was tired. Mostly of the conversation, but also in general. She was eager to go to bed. It was late. When no one spoke up, she got up from her chair. "I say we call it a night."

Her dog Milo snorted awake and climbed out from his spot under the table with a large yawn and a stretch. "Sleepy."

"Me too, buddy." She scratched his head between his brown, floppy ears. They all knew she could talk to the animals, so nobody gave her an odd look.

"I should get back to the kids." Bert stretched before standing as well. "Or else Mae will have my head. Literally."

Gwen chuckled. "I'm glad she finally let you have your body back after the last time you screwed up. I'd rather not deal with carrying you around again." Bert had said something or done something—Gwen didn't even really remember the details—and Mae had shoved his body in a closet and forced him to be hauled around as only his pumpkin head for a week. The two of them made the oddest, but sweetest couple.

Their children were adopted orphans—children who came to Avalon without their parents. It was perfect for the cook, as she had more than just the denizens and visitors of Camelot to care for. Gwen had honestly never seen Maewenn happier.

The rest of the court all made their farewells and goodnights before filing out of the room. When they were finally gone, she headed out herself down the hallway with Milo walking at her side, tail idly wagging, eager to curl up in bed and sleep.

Now and then, she couldn't help but walk through Camelot and remember what it looked like so long ago. The broken ruins and the fallen beams, grown over with ivy and moss. They had tried to reuse what remained of the original building, using all the salvageable stones or timber they could find. She'd wanted the building to be as much of the original Camelot as possible, including one or two old tapestries that hadn't fully been claimed by time and weather. The tomb beneath the castle was still there, though, thankfully, no one had been added to its ranks in a very long time. The remains of Percival and Lancelot had been buried in the tomb, along with a golden sword for Galahad. Bors and Tristan she believed were now married and living happily off in the woods somewhere, though they wanted little to do with her, and she respected that.

Gawain had taken up teaching at a local college. It was adorable. Now and then, he'd send her a book or a letter, but they had never been close.

Gwen opened the door to her chambers and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a warm bed and sleep.

It seemed that wasn't on the cards just yet.

Milo's ears perked up and he growled low in his throat before running into the darkened room. Someone was there. Summoning Caliburn, Gwen grasped the hilt and readied herself for a fight.

Milo ran to the balcony, growling. The door was open. The sky was starry, and the moon was full, making it almost bright enough outside to see as though it were day.

An imposing figure stood there, cloaked in black, the hood pulled up over its head. The silhouette of a nightmare.

When Gwen drew close, she saw Milo sitting on the ground at the man's feet, staring up at him in curiosity. A clawed iron gauntlet reached out to pet the dog's head. Milo grinned, tongue hanging out, and he began to happily pant. "Dad!"

How they knew, she'd never understand. Something in the genetics.

She dismissed the sword back into the ether. "You need to learn to knock."

Mordred's quiet chuckle told her that no, he was never going to knock. "I have not met this one yet."

"His name's Milo." She walked out onto the balcony and went to stand beside him. The view from her room was beautiful, overlooking the forests. The sea was just barely visible, shining in the moonlight.

"The elemental named Eulain will die." Mordred turned to her, his face still obscured in darkness.

She placed her hand on his chest. He wasn't wearing his armor, and she wanted to feel the warmth of his skin. "Will he suffer?"

"No. His crimes do not warrant that." Mordred placed his hand over the back of hers, holding it there.

To say that their relationship was…strange, was to put it mildly. But it suited them. And it was comfortable, now, after so many centuries. But there was a pattern that she knew they would repeat every night he came to her.

"Have you forgiven me?" He stepped forward, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

Reaching up, she slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself close to him. "No. Does that change anything?"

"Never." He leaned down to kiss her, his embrace hungry and eager. Their passions had never dulled. When he parted, he stroked her cheek. "I love you, my firefly."

"And I love you, my dark lord." She rested her head against his chest.

"The darkness to your light."

Without which, neither of them could exist. He was the monster that haunted the dreams of children. The fear of a gruesome demise that kept all who would shatter the peace of Avalon in line. They could never be together in the light.

But here, in the shadows, she would always be his.

And he was hers.

And nothing would ever change that.

Fin.

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