Cutting Trees
The choice had always been easy.
Saving Camelot equalled saving Arthur. Saving Gwen was saving Arthur. Saving Uther was saving Arthur.
And at one time saving Morgana even meant saving Arthur.
For his friend needed protection against flaming arrows, sharp claws, scheming and trickery. But he also needed saving from heartache.
A broken king equals a broken kingdom. But that never happened. Camelot grew and blossomed like a sapling in spring, ever changing but always strengthened by hope. It was an everlasting summer nurtured by Arthur's beliefs and his own.
Rooted at the very base of his being was that one choice. Life above death. Love above hate. Compassion had been his greatest strength and deviating had been painful. But protecting Arthur equalled the greater good, right?
So the choice had been easy, had always been the same except when it truly mattered. On the divergence of destiny he had overlooked the turn.
He could no longer see the wood for the trees. As he gazed upon the training grounds in front of him he could only see it wither.
And it had been his choice to cut the roots.
A result of my emotional upheaval during and after 5x05. Don't know if it makes much sense, maybe it isn't supposed to. Anyway it's official, I'm depressed and it's because of a TV show... On a side note for those who are following Storm's Ahead, you can expect an update on Tuesday. *crossing my fingers*