Title: The Tempest

Word Count: 7165 (for now)

Rating: T

Summary: "I think I made a mistake," he said forlornly, pressing his hands and poem to his face. "The stupid kind where I think I'm being noble but I'm actually being an idiot." Companion piece/sequel to The Trouble with Gossip.

A/N: I have another one for the in medias res AU/AR here (I really need to come up with a title for this mini-series). This is The Trouble with Gossip essentially from Percival's point of view, and I definitely recommend reading that one first. This story is definitely a hard T. If it should go to a higher rating, please let me know. This is my take on a songfic. To be honest, this was a stretch for me. I'm not a fan of songfics, and I don't write them. I'm hoping I did the category justice though, because when I heard this song if just fit my weird headcannon. The poem is taken from the song "Hurricane" by Fleurie. I recommend listening while you read. It's a phenomenal song. :)

Also, here there be flashbacks. Just brief moments in Merlin and Percival's relationship. I felt like they gave some significant background information for this story, and added to the overall feeling of wanting (which is a pretty big theme here).

A/N EDIT: Heeeeey. So I was just cleaning this one up a little. The second chapter is being posted tonight as well. :)


Percival had always been judged on his size. He must be a brute, or a fool, or both. The fact that he was neither was lost to many, even the knights at first. The number of people who didn't make that assumption about him could be counted on one hand. Recently though, he had been making so many mistakes that it was easier and easier to believe the perception to be real. Every decision he made, to protect others, to protect himself, to protect Merlin, had ended up so horribly backwards. Ever since the Lamia he felt like he couldn't trust his own mind.

When Lancelot returned to Camelot, Percival was relieved. He had his friend back, and he desperately hoped for things to return to normal. He wanted joke with him once again. He wanted to regale him with tales of Gwaine's latest pranks, and console him over this true and final loss of Guinevere. He wanted so much to be able to confide in the man about his newest troubles with his lover, and to ask advice on what to do since he could barely rely on his own reasoning. However, after one conversation, it appeared as though Lancelot remembered him in name only, and the time spent fighting alongside each other before coming to Camelot at Merlin's call was lost. Percival was unnerved by it, but after the upheaval with Merlin, after distancing him to keep him safe, he didn't feel right asking the wizard's opinion. Percival did not have the courage to face the man. Then Lancelot betrayed Arthur—with Gwen, of all people—and soon after that the knight died again, making Percival wish he had swallowed his fear to speak to the warlock. He thought back on that conversation they had all those weeks ago. Percival felt as if he had not only ended their physical relationship, but their friendship as well. It was callous and cruel, what he said to his lover.

"I—I don't understand," Merlin's eyes were wide as Percival turned away from him, facing the sunset. He couldn't look at the man's face anymore or he would lose his resolve.

"It's not that complicated, Merlin. Obviously, we don't feel that strongly about each other. This was all just supposed to be for fun, right? Well, I'm not having that much fun anymore," he was cold. He knew he was cold, but he didn't want any room for misinterpretation. He hit Merlin. He saw the bruise on his face and the subtle winces at his presence, and if Merlin couldn't keep himself safe, how could he stop the knight from hurting anyone else—even Arthur—if he was bewitched? Percival had to stand firm in this.

"Perce, why? I thought that we—"

"You thought we what?" Percival asked angrily, rounding on him and taking a menacing step forward. Merlin took a step back in fear, something he had never done before the Lamia enchanted the knights, no matter how aggressive they behaved, firming Percival's belief that he struck the beautiful face in front of him. "You thought we had something? We were both perfectly clear about what this was in the beginning. It's not my fault if you've gone ahead and forgotten that. Don't come to me again to satisfy a need. I don't want that anymore. I certainly have other options that I could be entertaining," Percival moved forward and past Merlin, back toward the door that led inside the palace.

"It's more than that and you know it! Percival, please—" he reached a hand to him and grasped his arm, but Percival shook it off without effort and left him on the battlements.

He thought he was doing right. What Merlin said was true, their relationship had grown from the casual thing it once was, but they didn't love each other. Or rather, Merlin didn't love him, at least not yet. He couldn't allow what they had to cloud Merlin's judgment, or to sway him from his destiny. What if the warlock had to make a choice between Percival and Arthur? Could he leave the knight behind? What if the man were bewitched again? Could Merlin strike him down if needed? Percival had already seen that he couldn't leave him or hurt him when it came to protecting his own hide or even Guinevere's, so it was difficult for the knight trust Merlin to do it for his king. He couldn't take that risk, not for the man he swore fealty to. He had to protect his kingdom. He had to protect his beloved. If this was the only way to protect them from himself, so be it.

He didn't know that Merlin was already in deeper than he let on. He didn't realize that each decision he made after severing their ties cut up the other man's heart. He only knew he had to keep on with the pretense and keep as much emotional and physical distance between himself and his lover as possible. He scoffed at Merlin's warning about the shrine, then later he swallowed his concern at Elyan's treatment of the servant, joking with the knights afterward and ignoring his guilt. Ever since Princess Mithian arrived he had barely seen the man, who was constantly trailing behind the royal pair. He knew this must be extremely painful for Merlin. Merlin's affections for Gwen and their strong friendship were very well known. To see her being replaced so easily by his king had to be excruciating.

Then Arthur got that mad idea in his head. Percival could not speak against Merlin, knowing Arthur's claim to be false, but he certainly couldn't shout out that Merlin was his lover, not Gwen's. While several in the kingdom turned a blind eye to two men having relations, he was still unsure of Arthur's stance on the matter. He gave his advice as fairly as he could before being dismissed. When he was called back he was astounded at the lengths Arthur went to secure his proof. The drawing of Gwen so unfeelingly torn out of Merlin's notebook, the notebook Percival gave him, made Percival's blood boil. He nearly let the king have it, right then and there, consequences be damned, but then he saw the dried blue flower next to the papers. He recognized the flower. He was the one who gave it to Merlin, and he was surprised Merlin kept it.

"I would think with no one around you would just use magic to do your chores for Gaius," he smirked as he came upon the other man, gathering herbs. Merlin had been despondent lately. His time injured in the woods must have done a number on him, because for the first two days after his return (after weeks of absence) the man didn't even visit. Then out of nowhere he was knocking on Percival's chamber door, throwing himself at him. He hadn't slept in his own chambers for several days after that. He was still reluctant to speak on the matter and had been very withdrawn from everyone. Gwen insisted that he was alright now, but begged the knight not to press, saying that Merlin had been through an ordeal. Percival trusted her to know what her best friend needed, and let the matter lie for now. Merlin startled a little at his voice, turning his head while remaining crouched on the ground. He smiled softly after a moment and stood, crossing the field to his companion and abandoning his basket momentarily.

"Well, obviously it's not a great idea, seeing as just anyone could sneak up on me," he replied cheekily, stopping just within touching distance.

"Hey now," he said, reaching his free hand to tangle with Merlin's. "I'm not just anyone."

"No. You're actually quite sneaky. It surprises most people, you know."

"But not you?"

"No, not since I saw you manage to dump Gwaine on his arse while we were resting during that first hunt together. Never seen anyone move so quietly in my life," he grinned. Percival laughed and Merlin noticed one hand hidden behind his back. He looked up to the knight in curiosity. "What do you have there?"

Percival blushed a little, pulling a small bouquet of blue flowers and handing them to his beloved. Merlin's eyebrows furrowed as he captured them in his free hand, examining them. "Is there a reason why you brought me snow glories?" he asked, looking back up at the knight. Percival shuffled his feet and didn't let go of his hand.

"Well, er—no. I mean, I didn't know that was what they were. Are they useful? Could Gaius dry them and make a medicine?" Percival's herblore was limited. Beyond yarrow and honey, he didn't know much about what to use to mend others. Merlin smiled a little.

"No, I don't think so. He probably couldn't make much of anything from them. They're just the first sign of spring," he responded. He wasn't mocking or unkind. He often taught people about medicine when he could. "Did you bring these for Gaius?"

"No! No, not at all," Percival stumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "I just—Gwen said you liked flowers, and these reminded me of your eyes."

The way Merlin's eyes lit up—seemingly for the first time in weeks—should have been a giveaway. As soon as the king turned away he slipped the dried flower into the palm of his hand. Gwaine copied the action with the poem Percival noticed Elyan did the same with the sketch of Gwen.

After they were dismissed, all three knights rounded on Leon, demanding answers. Leon held his hands up in a placating manner and told them that this was not a conversation for the hallway, seeing as that seemed to be the reason for the problem in the first place. The knights traveled to his rooms in tense silence, only waiting for the door to shut before bursting into speech.

"What was that?!" Gwaine exclaimed. "What in God's name happened where Arthur thought that a drawing meant the ultimate betrayal? Has he gone mad?"

"Leon, he's defiling the name of my sister!" Elyan growled.

"Merlin would never betray him like that! He's never been involved with Gwen!" Percival interjected, rather desperately.

Leon held his hands up at the knights' babble, placating them until silence reigned again. "I... I don't know what is going on to be honest. You know as well as I he heard an insane rumor. When we went to Merlin's chambers I wanted to object, but it is his right as king, and I had assumed we would not find anything he would think was incriminating. Obviously, I thought wrong."

"He didn't find anything incriminating!" Gwaine was especially defensive of Merlin. Percival felt a flash of jealousy before calming himself. He had to keep in mind the knight thought of Merlin as his best friend—his first friend, and that was where his objections were coming from. Besides, it wasn't like Percival had any right to intervene anymore.

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know," he sighed. "I know, and honestly I don't know what to do about it. Merlin has been serving the king for years now and has outlasted any previous manservant he's had tenfold. I don't understand why he thinks the boy would betray him like this. It's Merlin for goodness sake!" Leon lowered his hand and sighed again, this time in irritation. "Although, if he has seen any reason from our arguments, he will at least try to talk to Merlin about it, and knowing Merlin, he'll set him straight in ways that we just can't. That's all we can hope for right now."

Percival sighed, fingering the flower cradled carefully in his palm as they exited the first knight's chambers. Elyan bid the others goodbye, making his way to his rooms, most likely to brood. Arthur should watch himself. Percival was fairly certain Elyan wanted to punch the king in the face.

"What do you have there?" Gwaine asked with forced cheer. Percival barely managed to control his impulse to hide the item in his hand by making a fist. He didn't want to crush the flower Merlin had been saving. Gwaine looked from the flower to the large knight's face, curiosity blatant upon his features. "Dismantling Arthur's carefully constructed evidence before he has words with our friend?" he chuckled. Percival remained silent as his friend's laughter died off. Gwaine frowned as he peered into the blonde's face. "What's wrong, Percival?"

Oh nothing, Gwaine. I just managed to throw away the best thing in my life because I was not what was best for him (and maybe because I was a little hurt by the fact that he didn't want to even talk to me about what happened), and I had assumed he was just going to brush this off and wasn't very sentimental about our relationship, except now I've found out that he pressed and saved the first flower I ever gave him, and I don't know what to think.

"I don't know what to think."

Gwaine remained silent and gestured for Percival to walk with him. Together they slowly traveled down the halls, seemingly aimless.

"It's just... these aren't useful, did you know that?" Percival followed the other knight into Gwaine's chambers and allowed himself to be sat down. He found a goblet with wine gently set in front of him, and stared down at it as he heard Gwaine settle in a chair opposite him. Trust that rogue to always have something to drink in times of trouble.

"That's… interesting?" Gwaine asked. His expression showed he was wondering where this was going. "What's the flower?"

"It's... it's a snow glory."

"The serving girls will love me for all time now, you know," Merlin said cheekily as they crossed the gates to the castle proper. He placed one flower in his neckerchief and smiled as Mary walked by with a basket of produce, handing her one of the blooms. Mary's smiled as she looked back and forth mischievously between the two. "Really, Falcon. Giving away flowers from your sweetheart? I thought you were a better man than that," she clicked her tongue as she put the flower behind her ear.

"I'm keeping the first one, and that's the important one, strumpet," he laughed. Her jaw dropped.

"How could you speak to me that way!" she said, outrage enveloping her tone. Percival took note of the devious twinkle in her eye.

"I'm sorry, did I speak falsely?" Merlin asked, widening his eyes innocently. Mary laughed as she started to saunter off.

"If I'm a strumpet, what does that make you? A tavern-dwelling trollop?"

"Oi!"

Percival chuckled. "Yes, Merlin, they simply can't seem to restrain themselves in their adoration."

"And what do you do with a Snow Glory?" Gwaine asked.

"Nothing. They're just pretty."

"I really should be upset that you all of them away, especially with how many you gave to Gwen. I wonder if I should be jealous," Percival rasped as he pressed Merlin against the wall of the servant's room, glad they could take advantage of Gaius being out unexpectedly. He gently pulled the flower from the neckerchief and placed it on the table beside them before tugging at the knot of the rough fabric. Merlin pressed his lips against the knight's ear, nipping the lobe and rubbing his hands up the other's back.

"I already said, the first one is the important one," he gasped as Percival's teeth found his throat, "and I'll keep that one forever, if it pleases you."

"They're the first sign of spring, so Merlin says."

Gwaine looked at his friend, setting his own goblet down on the table in front of him, then finally comprehension dawned on him. "You knew without a doubt that Merlin didn't do what Arthur is accusing him of."

Percival lifted his head. "Of course I did. So did you. So did everyone."

"But you know Merlin less than any of the rest of us, at least time-wise." There was a glint in the man's eye. Percival cleared his throat and sipped some of the wine quickly. "When did Merlin have the opportunity to tell you about Snow Glories, anyway?"

"Uh... well I asked him about it, a little while ago when I stumbled upon him gathering herbs."

Gwaine rested his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and placing his chin on the backs of his hands. "Oh? Was this perhaps when you gave them to Merlin?"

Percival opened his mouth, but wasn't sure if he should deny or affirm the accusation, so he shut it. That was enough for the knave drinking across from him.

"Ha! I knew it! He went on about his sweetheart giving him flowers for days. Snow Glories, in fact. Why didn't you just say something? You know I wouldn't have judged," Gwaine relaxed back into his chair, dropping his hands to his lap.

Percival shook his head. "It wasn't just my secret to tell, and I didn't know how any of you would react. I figured you were Merlin's friend first, and he would tell you when he was ready," he said weakly, setting the flower on the table.

Gwaine rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Mate, Merlin has told me about many of his conquests, both men and women. It's one of the things we've bonded over, not being tied down by one person. Of course, then someone came along and he just wouldn't shut up about the man. He never told me a name though, which made me realize I must have already known who it was and that they were shy about letting the information out. How did I not figure out it was you?" he muttered the last bit to himself.

"Probably because you keep your head in a barrel of mead when you're off duty."

"Hey! That's not... nice. Probably true, but not nice. What happened to put you in such a bad mood lately, anyway?"

Percival contemplated the question. He knew the answer. It was a clear as the evidence of the silly little flower in front of him. The first flower he gave to Merlin.

"I just... didn't believe him."

"Oh gods, gods Perce—"

"It would please me," he grunted into the reddened ear of the gorgeous, lithe man pressed into the wall behind them, fingers pressing into his hips and branding him with bruises. Merlin clutched at him, legs around his waist and hands clawing his shoulder blades, head thrown back as the strong knight rutted into him. "It would please me if you kept it forever; would you, Merlin?"

"Yes!" Merlin gasped and shuddered as Percival rocked them both to completion.

Percival sighed, lifting the goblet and gazed at it, watching the sunlight glint off the sides as he moved it. The flare was achingly familiar as Percival remembered the first time he ever saw that same gold shimmering in Merlin's terrified eyes. Terrified both for and of the knight he decided to save. "I didn't believe him when he said he would keep it," he gestured at the dried flower on the table. "I thought—I don't know what I thought. I didn't think he'd mean it."

Gwaine leaned forward again, his eyes narrowing. "Merlin has always been a man of his word. If he said he would do something, there is no doubt in my mind he would follow through."

"Of course he would, I know that. It's just, it's a silly flower. I didn't know he actually felt—strongly enough about us to save a useless flower I gave him. He's never been vocal about what we meant to each other, and whenever it did come up he always brushed it off."

"Except the last time."

Percival gaped at him. Had he always known? Had his earlier surprise been an act and nothing more?

"Is it me?" he asked softly. Merlin's head snapped up and he looked at him with wide eyes. "Do you not want to be with me and me alone because of something I did?"

"No, no Percival of course not. I am with you alone. I haven't been with anyone else since all this started."

"But you don't want to say it out loud? Even though we've been seeing each other in every capacity for months?" Merlin shrank back, looking down. Percival sighed, knowing he lost this fight, and wondering if it was worth it to even try to continue.

"Have you ever fallen in love before?" the warlock asked, quietly. Percival hummed a negative, and Merlin smiled a little. "It's crazy, how one person can just worm their way into your heart. It's suddenly there and it's amazing and terrifying all at once." Merlin's shoulders started to shake, only noticeable because of how hard Percival was studying him. "Then all of a sudden, something happens and that person is just gone, ripped away, and it hurts. It hurts so much you don't think you can bear it, but you have to. You have to just carry on as if nothing happened even though you're bleeding inside—"

"Merlin," Percival whispered, pulling the sorcerer against him and holding him, letting the other man cry silently against him. "Merlin, it may not be the case for you, but you've already done that to me. I would be heartbroken if something happened to you." Merlin drew back staring up at the blonde's face with wet eyes. "Can you say the same for me?" Merlin bit his lip and nodded his head.

"I feel like I'm asking for trouble."

"Don't look so surprised. I knew he was given flowers, remember?" Gwaine smirked a little. "We are friends, after all. He talks to me. He said he and his songbird had a talk that made him realize some things, one of them being that he doesn't want this person to be just be a friend anymore." Gwaine sighed a little, relaxing back into his chair. He glanced over his friend and took in his posture. "And it scares the shite out of him. So tell me Perce, was he right to be scared?"

Percival looked up into the other knight's eyes, mouth set. "I was trying to protect him."

"From what?"

"From me!" he shouted as he stood and paced the room. Gwaine remained sitting. "Gods, Gwaine, from me. Did you see the bruise on his face? Do you see how he flinches away from me? I must have hurt him, I must have because who else would he allow that close without defending himself?"

"Percival, he stopped flinching ages ago. And it wasn't just around you, it was around all of us. We all frightened him," Gwaine reminded him. "Believe me, if we could just lay the blame on one knight it would do me a world of good, but I can't lie to myself about it. You shouldn't either." Percival stopped in front of his chair on these words, then crumpled into the seat beneath him. If only he knew what happened...

"I don't know what to do!" Percival was distraught and bewildered. He still felt in his heart he had done the right thing, if only to protect Merlin from the knight's idiocy. Gwaine stared at him intently before reaching into his belt and pulling out the paper he stole off Arthur's table.

"Perhaps you should read this before you make any more misguided decisions. It may tell you what you need to know," he said carefully, dropping it on the middle of the small table between them. Percival reached out and picked up the parchment with shaking fingers, flipping it until the text on the page was in view.

I can feel your heart hanging in the air,

I am counting every step as you climb the stairs.

It's buried in your bones, I see it in your closed eyes, turning in,

This is harder than we know. We hold it in the most when we're wearing thin.

The sky burns red against your skin.

The world we know turns in the wind.

Come in like a tempest, I take it in real slow.

The world is spinning like a weather vane, fragile and composed.

Though I am breaking down again,

I am aching now to let you in.

Falling slow in the pouring rain,

Watch it go, we stay the same,

And I don't know how it can change.

It's all we know, the tempest.

The words leapt off the page, creating a fragile picture for Percival. How many times had they interacted, and all the while Percival was concerned about his place with Merlin. All along he was so certain that he was more invested in their relationship because Merlin was hardly ever willing to talk to him about it. To see, clearly written in Merlin's own hand, that the young man was grappling with these same feelings and fearing where it would take them because of his losses? Hadn't he said it that night? That he was afraid of inviting trouble? That he didn't want to put words to his feelings because of how he had suffered in the past?

"I think I made a mistake," he said forlornly, pressing his hands and poem to his face. "The stupid kind where I think I'm being noble but I'm actually being an idiot," he mumbled into the parchment.

"Being noble can have unexpected consequences," Gwaine said solemnly. Percival lifted his head out of his hands and looked at his companion. Gwaine's expression could be taken as serious if not for the amused glint in his eye, "but I've found that those can be rectified if you persevere and aren't above a little groveling."

So that was how Percival found himself wandering the corridors, searching fruitlessly for a glimpse of a dark head of hair or a red neckerchief. Apparently after Merlin was let out of the stocks he had made himself scarce. After searching most of Merlin's favorite hiding places, the giant determined the young man was nowhere to be found. Percival sighed as he approached the corridor that held the knights' chambers, having decided he should attempt to find the wayward warlock tomorrow. It was probably for the best. He still wasn't sure what he should say—what he could say. The blonde knight was so lost in thought he stumbled into Elyan, having not noticed the man at all.

"So sorry, Elyan," he said, shaking his head. Elyan gave him a weak smile and gripped his shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

"It's alright, Percival. I believe we all have a lot on our minds right now," he said somewhat ruefully. Percival then noticed the man held a scrap of parchment in his other hand, the same one that had been torn from Merlin's notebook. Elyan glanced to it after seeing the other man's gaze and smiled a little. "I had hoped I could hold on to this without Merlin knowing, but it isn't mine to keep. I wanted to find him and return it. I haven't been lucky in my search though."

Percival nodded in understanding. Merlin was a tricky devil to track down when he wanted to be. "I also have been searching. I was hoping to return these," he wiggled his own paper and flower, "and speak to him if he would allow it." Elyan looked confused for a moment.

"Why wouldn't he allow it? I imagine of everyone, he's angry at Arthur, not us."

If only you knew what a brute I've been to him, he thought morosely.

"At any rate, if you are searching for him yourself, will you return the drawing as well? I am patrolling tomorrow and we leave at dawn, so I need to get some rest."

"Of course, Elyan," he said, taking the paper that Elyan reluctantly released to him. The dark knight smiled again, gripping his arm a little tighter before returning to his own rooms. Percival frowned deeply, looking at the remnants of Merlin's violated privacy. The fact that Arthur had the audacity not only to search the man's rooms, but to rip pages from his notebook—something Percival knew Merlin cherished—infuriated the giant to no end. Percival was not quick to anger by nature, but when it came to his beloved there was little rationality in him.

"Sir Percival?" Percival jumped slightly at the nasal, breathy voice behind him. After calming himself briefly he turned to see the little waif Mary with a basket of wood clutched in her hands. Blonde wisps framed her face, pulled away from her head-wrap from a long day's work. Percival managed a smile for the servant.

Barely.

"Yes, Miss Mary?" she giggled at his address, as she always did. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Mary shuffled her feet a little and looked down, so different from how she behaved around the other servants and Merlin. Percival didn't believe a word of Merlin's talk about the innocent girl's behavior or language, until he saw it in action by accident one day when he looked for his lover. He was astounded by the brazenness of her speech, not one blush to be found, Merlin sitting with her and laughing all the while. "You just seemed lost in thought, my lord, and I wondered if perhaps you needed an ear?"

Despite her coarseness, Percival knew this woman was kind down to her bones. "No, Miss Mary, but thank you for asking."

Mary shuffled her feet again before looking straight into the knight's eyes. "Sir, I hope I'm not too forward," she began, as a blush began to pink her cheeks, "but I wanted you to know, perhaps it is not too late to take a stroll along the battlements? It is a pleasant evening, after all."

Percival gaped at her. Had word gotten through all the servants that he and Merlin were no more? Why now, when Percival had finally seen the error of his ways? Was this girl trying to find her way into his bed? "Miss Mary," he began sternly, causing the maid to take a step back. "I had thought you knew my interests lay elsewhere." At this Mary's face flushed brightly, and a scowl adorned her features.

"I didn't mean with me! I already know you don't chase fillies!" she said hotly. "And I wouldn't betray my friend like that," she folded her lips together, eyes widening, realizing she forgot herself in her anger.

Percival's frown melted and he blinked a little. "I apologize. I meant you no insult," he said quickly. "I wasn't thinking straight."

Mary nodded a little, looking down again. "I meant—that is... I meant alone. To maybe clear you head. It's a good night for a stroll to think."

Percival went over her proposal, thinking of the late hour. Though the days were getting longer, the sun was almost setting now, and the wind would be quite cold so high above the rest of the world. "Perhaps now is not the best time," he said quietly. "It will be dark soon, and most likely there will be a chill in the air." Mary shook her head at him, eyes wide.

"No, no it's perfectly fine! I think it will do you good. Woman's intuition!" she said rather quickly. "And you know you should always trust a woman's intuition. Sir Percival, I think you'll find exactly what you need to help settle those thoughts of yours."

So, at the maid's insistence and with not much else to do, Percival found himself opening the heavy door to the battlements. Somehow she managed to steer him away from his own rooms with idle chatter before she took her leave, preventing him from dropping off Merlin's things. He stepped through the doors and started working his way down the grassy hill, until he saw a hunched figure sitting near the wall—a hunched figure with dark hair and a red neckerchief. Percival gasped a little and his feet propelled him forward unconsciously, until he was nearly within touching distance of the sorcerer.

"Merlin," he breathed. The servant's head jerked up and spun back to look over his shoulder, and in the golden rays of the sunset Percival could make out wet tracks on the man's face. Merlin faced forward again, dragging his sleeve against his eyes quickly before standing up. He didn't turn around and kept his shoulders drawn inward, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. Percival's heart broke all over again at the sight of him. How could he let this happen?

"Merlin, I—"

"Don't."

Merlin's voice was icier than the chill of the fast wind cutting through them, but Percival heard the pain he was trying to hide. Pain that he hadn't let the knight know was there through careful distance and fake cheer. He stepped closer, now close enough to touch, and tentatively reached his empty hand out to grasp Merlin's shoulder. The other man jerked away and spun around, still hunched but eyes blazing. Percival noticed Merlin had changed his clothes since this morning.

"Gods above, Percival. Don't. Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. You've been just fine leaving me alone for the last few weeks. Don't let my bad day stop you now." The sorcerer's eyes were sharp and a cold glint was still detectable beneath a sheen of wetness. Percival felt his chest tighten as he moved closer to Merlin, who couldn't step back with how close they were to the wall's edge. Merlin flinched and looked to the side, head cast downward. His shoulders trembled. "Gaius turned his ankle, so I've had to do his rounds on top of my usual chores for the last few days, and this is on top of the added duties of chasing after the royal couple like some kind of dogsbody, and today I've apparently been punished for something I didn't even do. I can't—" Percival grimaced as he saw Merlin physically close himself off, mouth shut tight and eyebrows furrowed so deeply it was a wonder the man's eyes hadn't closed yet. His whole body tensed even further, shrinking down on itself, as if he was trying to wish himself away. Percival suddenly believed that Merlin might be capable of actually doing so. He didn't know the extent of Merlin's magical capabilities, but he had heard of his feats and wouldn't put the trick past him.

"I know," he responded, quietly, longing to envelop the other in his arms and hold him until the hurt went away. Merlin looked up again, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You know?"

Percival nodded, lifting the parchment for Merlin to take. Merlin looked down dumbly at the items in Percival's hand, then shut his eyes and took a shuddering breath. Percival touched Merlin's shoulder again, only to have the other jerk away violently enough to frighten him to stillness. They were too close to the wall, and Merlin's clumsiness was not something he faked to play the fool.

"DON'T!" the warlock shouted wildly, causing the knight to drop his free hand. Percival did not step away, though he flinched at the voracity behind Merlin's words. "Don't just... don't come up here and act like you care all of a sudden! Everything in my life is going wrong and turning on its head! I know you're a good man and you're worried, but I can't have you acting like this right now! I can't!" he was crying openly now, rubbing at his face with his sleeve in an effort to dry his tears.

"Merlin, listen to me," he said quietly.

"No! No, just go away. I came up here to be alone! Gods, can't you just please leave me alone?" He buried his face in his hands, shaking and trembling. Percival stepped into his lover's space and wrapped his arms around him, hoping that he could at least offer this physical comfort without violence to his person. He knew Merlin could blast him back—that his magic would act instinctively if he perceived the knight as a threat. Instead, Merlin struggled in his hold and tried to push him away ineffectually with his arms, turning his head to look at anything but him. Percival held on, firm but gentle.

"Beloved," he said into Merlin's ear. Merlin's gasp was heart-wrenching. This was a gasp that had, in the past, preceded an open display of suffering. Percival had held him enough through his grief to know its distinctiveness. "Beloved, please—"

Merlin stopped struggling and laid his head on Percival's shoulder, crying in earnest. "How can you still do that?" he sobbed. Percival's breath caught in his throat at the sorcerer's agonized voice. "Why do I let you do that?" His arms still hadn't come up to hold Percival in return, but Percival felt his tenseness starting to ebb. "It's not fair." It was said quietly, almost low enough to be lost amongst his tears.

Percival tightened his hold, feeling hot guilt and grief war in his gut. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. "I'm so sorry. Please, Merlin. I thought I was doing the right thing. I have no right to ask you to forgive me. I was so stupid. I thought that maybe you still didn't... that you still thought of us as friends. Good friends, but friends only. When the Lamia—" Merlin flinched a little when Percival named the wretched beast that drove a wedge between them, "—spelled us, I didn't know what was happening. I've forgotten everything that transpired except feeling ill and cold. I saw that bruise on your face, and at first I was enraged that it was even there. Then you kept flinching when I got too close, too quickly," he let out in a rush, trying to organize his jumbled thoughts. "I know you let me put it there," he whispered harshly. Merlin's head snapped up to look him in the eye. Percival's tears finally spilled down his face. "I was so worried that maybe you would let me hurt you again, or even hurt the king, and I couldn't let that happen. If I don't know my own mind I can't trust myself, and seeing that mark made it so I was afraid to trust you to protect yourself." Merlin let out quick his breath in quick hitches, as though he was trying to catch it. "Then when we stopped talking I realized that this was truly more to you—"

Merlin tried to pull away now. "You knew it was more to me before we stopped talking! We had a conversation about it! You made me talk about how you make me feel!" he shouted angrily, once again pushing at Percival's chest, but the knight wouldn't budge.

Percival shook his head. "I know that now, but even when we talked about it you were still evasive and unsure. I thought I was doing the right thing, honest," his voice broke as tears started to come down his face. "I admit I acted rashly."

"You acted like the thick-headed brute you look like!" Merlin snarled. Percival flinched a little, but still did not let go. He knew Merlin had a tongue like a viper when he was frightened or angry, and while it had not been turned on him before he knew the man was capable of great hurt with words alone. "You don't get to decide what's best for me, Percival! I'm not some doe-eyed maiden who has never seen the world before! I'm not fragile and I'm not weak, and you don't get to just decide we're ending things because you're afraid to talk to me about them!"

"I read your poem," Percival had managed to regain control of his voice and said this steadily. Merlin's eyes widened and his mouth, which was readying for a retort, stilled and hung open slightly.

"W-what?"

"Was it about me? Us?"

Merlin's face crumpled a little again and he took breaths through his nose and out of his mouth. His body was taut like a bowstring ready to snap.

"I think it was. How many times did we stare at a red horizon when a bad storm was coming in? How many times did you catch me sneaking into your chambers because of those creaking steps?" Merlin gasped at this a little, trying to regain some composure. He started leaning away again, shifting to get out of Percival's hold. "Merlin, please. Let me in," the knight whispered, tenderly.

Merlin broke. That was the only way to describe it. His whole face contorted into a mess of pain and anguish and he fell against his knight, sobbing openly and beating his chest with an angry but weak fist. Percival drew him in as close as he could, holding on tighter than he ever had before and let Merlin cry against him. Percival had only seen him this way twice. Once when the knight discovered his magic, and again after Lancelot's passing. He held on tightly, wondering how he could have made such a poor decision about Merlin. Merlin, who bottled everything and who didn't let anything out except a cheerful smile and shrug of his shoulders. Merlin, who carried his burdens as silently as possible, so others could lessen theirs. Merlin, who was amazing and kind and funny and impossibly strong. This was a man he loved with his whole being, and he casually dismissed him because he thought his warlock could handle his burdens too.

How wrong he was.

Merlin finally, finally wrapped his arms around Percival's broad chest, tucking his face into his neck. The knight wasn't sure how long they stood together, but before he knew it, twilight was upon them and the sun had descended below the horizon. He felt Merlin shiver from cold and exhaustion, and noticed he was doing the same.

"Come to my chambers," he said, lips pressed right against Merlin's ears. "Please. I don't want to be away from you. You don't have to forgive me yet, or ever if you don't want to. But please, stay with me for a little while." Percival held his breath, waiting for Merlin to shove him again, this time knowing if he did he would respect the man's decision. The silence was painful to endure.

"Okay," Merlin said quietly. Percival carefully pulled away and looked down at the slightly crumpled parchment realizing the flower was still intact, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He transferred it to his other hand and held it up for Merlin to see. Merlin gave him a watery smile. "I said I'd keep it forever, didn't I?" he choked out.

Percival smiled as he tucked the dried flower into Merlin's neckerchief before leading him back to his rooms.


A/N: There is a second chapter for this one in the works. I was aiming for feels with this one, and I'll be honest. I'm not sure how I feel about my Gwaine. I feel like I pigeon-holed him into that drunk/humor role that he often takes on. Anyway, please feel free to review! Hope you enjoyed it!