Lancelot du Lac P2

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Gaius was getting far too old for his own good. He'd known it for a while, his old joints creaking as he staggered up stairs, the groan of his muscles if he stayed on his feet for too long. His body was slowly failing him, his lungs gasping for air as he descended the steps to the dungeons. News traveled fast, even in a sleepy night. It hadn't taken long for a flustered guard to come banging on his door, practically pushing him towards the cells. He hadn't got any real information as to why Merlyn had been sent there, but he could guess. She had been living on borrowed time, after all.

It took a moment for Gaius' eyes to adjust to the overwhelming darkness, for him to find Merlyn with her knees to her chest, her eyes fixed on the floor, in the far corner of her cell. There was little light, a few candles flickering across the stone walls, casting long shadows into the enclosed air. No one had stopped him as he approached her, the guards shifting out of sight as he reached the bars. Only when Gaius was the only one left did she look up. She seemed to have aged a thousand years.

"I had to tell him." She croaked, looking beseechingly at her mentor. "He proposed and I... I couldn't hide it from him anymore."

"I know, my dear." Gaius sighed, wincing as he lowered himself to the ground, leaning on the bars for support. "We both knew that this day would come."

Merlyn nodded slowly, but didn't seem to hear him.

"He hates me." Her eyes welled with tears. They were bloodshot, stained red in anguish.

"No, he doesn't." Gaius knew that he spoke the truth. Arthur could never hate Merlyn, just as Merlyn could never truly hate Arthur. Their destinies were entwined, as, it seemed, were there souls.

"I wish he'd killed me." Merlyn spoke bitterly. "It would have been easier."

"When have our lives ever been easy?" Gaius questioned, arching his eyebrow. "Merlyn, Arthur loves you more than anything, more than Camelot even. He will not turn his back on you now."

"And if he does?" It wasn't often Merlyn showed such uncertainty. She really didn't know the depth of the king's devotion, Gaius realised.

"He won't. He can't. Arthur is upset, yes, but he will eventually understand."

Merlyn looked so lost. "When? After he cuts my head off? After I've wasted away in here?"

Gaius shook his head."We won't let that happen. We'll get you out-"

"No." Merlyn interrupted, something blazing in her eyes. "I forbid it. I will not let anyone else risk their lives for me. If Arthur orders me dead, then I will die. I have defied him enough."

Gaius was taken aback by her sudden show of passion, but he knew enough not to disagree. Merlyn was a stubborn fool; there was nothing he could say that could change her mind.

"Gaius, you are like a father to me. You have taught me so much. I am sorry it has come to this, but my fate is Arthur's to decide. I hope you understand." Merlyn wasn't looking at him anymore, her expression resolute as she stared at the wall behind him. Gaius knew a dismissal when he saw it.

"I will talk to him." He said, standing shakily. He didn't know if he could survive Camelot without Merlyn. He took a few steps towards the exit, but her voice stopped him.

"Gaius," she called, "don't endanger yourself. You have helped me so much over the last few years; don't you dare throw away everything you have to end up in a cell next to mine."

The physician didn't reply. He couldn't promise anything; he was sure that Merlyn knew that. He would do what he could to secure her freedom. He could only hope it would be enough.

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