The Way Merlin's Mind Works

Tears Are A Fruitful Stream

Lancelot knew that Merlin needed his space, that Merlin wouldn't send Gwaine away, that they needed to talk. That didn't stop Lancelot from worrying about Merlin. Merlin, sweet, kind, loving, generous, 'always sees the best in most everyone' Merlin. He was so kind, so sweet, so open, he was so loving. To the point of where he'd stand and smile while Arthur cut his head off, though the thought of that made Lancelot sick to his stomach. The image of Arthur raising his sword to Merlin's neck, swinging to chop, a splash of blood, it made Lancelot's stomach turn, his face pale and green.

He knew now that none of the knights, let alone Arthur would harm Merlin, but Lancelot still feared for his wellbeing, his friend. He was honestly incredibly happy Gwaine had gone with Merlin, the two needed to talk and although Merlin didn't need protection, he'd proven that time and time again and now the others knew that, Lancelot still felt much better knowing that Gwaine was there for Merlin, to offer friendship and protection if need be. Lancelot felt a rush of slight relief, knowing that no matter what, Merlin would always have Gwaine. Always. Lancelot looked around at the forest that surrounded them, and then the way that Merlin and Gwaine had rushed off, unable to see anything more than a few meters away. Arthur suddenly sighed with an air of impatience, before he looked up, looking at everyone.

"I suppose we'll have to go get Merlin and Gwaine, won't we?" The king went to stand, but Lancelot spoke, his voice holding no room for argument.

"No." Arthur looked at Lancelot, almost affronted in his words. Arthur almost spoke again, when Lancelot spoke again, his voice holding the exact same tone.

"That is not a good idea. I know you're upset, disappointed, something along those lines, but do not go after them. Do. Not. They are friends, best friends, and they need to clear what ever air might be between them. Merlin is afraid, terrified. Gwaine doesn't understand all of what's happened, what's going on, how Merlin was born with these abilities. Do you understand me? You can wail and moan all you want Arthur, but do not go near Merlin until daybreak, do you understand me? He is afraid, terrified. He spent the last 7 years thinking that we, Camelot Knights-his friends, would behead him the minute we found out about his magic, his abilities. He legitimately thought for years, that if any of us found out about the magic he was born with, we would arrest him, behead him, hang him or worse, burn him at the stake. You cannot honestly expect him to be completely fine after, that he wouldn't be wary of us for some time, that he wouldn't be afraid. Do you truly understand Arthur? Merlin is afraid of us. Of us. Has been, for years. Years, Arthur." Arthur's mouth was wide open, eyes wide, and his face ashen. He tried to speak, his mouth dropping and rising a handful of times, before his mouth closed with an audible click, teeth clacking together. Percival had his head lowered slightly, obviously disturbed at the thought of Merlin being afraid of him and the other knights. Of him. The gentle giant and the other knights were visibly disappointed in themselves, faces ashen and crestfallen. Their hearts broke for their young friend.

"Oh Merlin.." Arthur was visibly upset, the others too. Lancelot sighed and shifted, resting with his back against the tree behind him, sighing heavily for the second time. Lancelot shifted again, the bark scratching against his back slightly, just enough for him to notice. Enough to distract. Lancelot looked from Arthur to the other knights, and relaxed slightly.

"Merlin is with Gwaine, and likely will be the rest of the night. We'll see them tomorrow morning, sometime after daybreak. They'll be okay, I promise you that. Merlin will defend Gwaine with his life, and Gwaine will do the same. Believe me, they'll be alright, and you'll get your chances to speak with Merlin, if you so wish. But for now? Leave it be. Leave him be." Arthur and the others, they nodded silently, contemplating everything Lancelot had said. They understood, they truly did. That doesn't mean they weren't hurt, that they didn't want to hear all of what Merlin had to say, that he wasn't their friend because of this.

It physically broke their hearts to know that Merlin had been afraid of the for years and years, so afraid. He had been so goddamned scared. So convinced that if they knew what he was, who he was. they'd kill him. String him up and light the pyre without a second thought. Oh Merlin.

The men relaxed as best they could, occasionally shoving a twig, a branch, a rock out of the way. They were lying on top of their bedrolls as comfortably as possible. They stared at the sky, the stars shining almost blindly, almost violently. They all sat in silence, almost to sleep with the heavy silence surrounding them all, when suddenly? A small butterfly, about the side of a mans palm, fluttered into their line of sight. They watched as the butterfly, small, elegant, beautiful, fluttered into the center of their little circle of bedrolls. It did not land, the knights watched as the butterfly danced in the air for a moment or two, where it then landed on the grass. There was a slight dusting and the butterfly turned into a golden rose, burying itself into the dirt and the tall, thin, coarse grass that surrounded the men. The wings fluttered around the butterflies body, the wings curling into gorgeous petals, shining and glowing visibly. The body the air around them seemingly cleaner, the tension gone for a moment.

They fell asleep to the golden glow of the rose, the shine and sparkle of visible magic in the air, surrounding them. A sense of protection, of peace and calm, eased over their hearts, their minds, all throughout the air. They slept to the calming shine of a the golden rose, a suspiciously familiar hint of blue danced around the roses petals. They slept with the knowledge that Merlin was safe, that they were safe, that Merlin was watching over them- even in a situation like this.

Merlin.