Harmony (Merlin)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Warning/s: None, really.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: I feel like such a terrible person for not updating in such a long time – please just believe me when I say life had been really, really bad, okay? I managed to find the time yesterday to sit down and write this, so it's probably not the best chapter I've ever done, but I hope you like anyway More Mercival fluff next chapter!

I've also been thinking about doing a one-shot showing some of Merlin's and Percival's time together which would run parallel to this story, sort of like a companion piece. Are any of you interested in it?

And Merry Christmas everyone!

Lightning cracked across the sky in a jagged strip of harsh yellow, a contrast to the navy of the night behind it. Below, the knights on watch stood shivering, cloaks plastered to their chainmail by the torrential rain, drops pelting off their helmets with heavy thuds. There were no fires lit; there was no point, the rain simply extinguished the flames each time they were ignited.

Most residents of the castle were asleep, and had been for an extensive time. Gwen, nestled warmly into Arthur's left side, his arm encompassed around her, holding her close, had dozed off a long time ago, but sleep was evading Arthur.

It could have been the storm. Arthur had always been slightly mistrustful of storms, ever since he had seen a segment of the West Tower being blasted off by a jolt of lightning when he was seven. Somewhere, deep down, however, he knew that was not the case.

He was worried, anxious – more specifically, worried and anxious about Merlin. She had been absent for around two days now, and although Arthur knew Merlin always seemed to come back to Camelot safe and sound after her little 'adventures' as he had taken to dubbing them, she had never been gone this long. The last time she had been gone for an extensive period of time, she had stumbled back into Camelot covered in mud and dirt; her clothes were filthy, and the only patches on her face that were clean were streaks were tears had sliced through the grime. He'd asked Gaius if she was okay, but the answer he'd received was short, abrupt and mostly consisted of "don't ask her what's wrong".

To cut the long explanation short, Arthur was seriously concerned for Merlin's well-being. Also for Percival's – the knight had been seen dashing into the forest by the patrol, and upon being interrogated on his motives, the not inconsiderable man had riposted rather cryptically, "Just checking up on things."

A booming roll of thunder exploded, taking Arthur's eardrums with it. He winced and shifted out from under Guinevere, taking care not to wake her, and padded silently to the windows. He glanced down at the men standing there, some chatting to each other, some stoically staring straight ahead, and felt a rush of something like relief that he wasn't in their position, which was almost immediately followed up by another surge of emotion, this time of guilt.

"Arthur?" His wife's lethargic voice attracted his attention and he wheeled quickly, just as another flare of yellow illuminated the sky, and crept in through the windows. In the split second of light, he saw his wife's delicate features twisted in confusion and unease, her hands playing with the end of her long braid, her right shoulder exposed by her nightgown having slipped down, making her look even more vulnerable and scared.

"Yes, my love?" Arthur slithered back to their bed, sinking gratefully onto the warm mattress and tugging the covers back up over his naked torso.

"Is it storming outside?" Gwen asked, her teeth tormenting her bottom lip. Gwen wasn't troubled by storms as Arthur was (though he'd be loathe to confess it to anyone, even his wife); instead, she was pondering on the implications of a storm for Merlin if she was still lost somewhere, a thought Arthur had been nudged away ever since the rain had commenced.