A/N- So I got this idea after reading Emachinescat's story "Why do you hate me?" Her Merlin asked why he could never be depicted picking herbs for Gaius in a story where he is not tortured! :D so that is what I did! ~Enjoy
Merlin enjoyed picking herbs. The serenity, the quiet; it was a peaceful sort of feeling, one he seldom had the chance to experience. Rhythmic upturning of various greenery created a peaceful pattern, the dirt cleansing him of all the day's baggage. Alone in the forest, it gave him ample time to think, just ponder, discover and amaze. The magic that was his life let loose, Merlin created colours in the sky, like fairies, dancing, twirling and enchanting the mind.
He sucked in a deep breath of warm summer air and sighed. This was the utmost tranquility. An escape from the constant pain of his life, always hiding, keeping secrets; not to mention the strenuous duties that acting as a manservant to the prince brought about. Guilt and tension began to ebb away allowing for a relaxing meditative state.
In the distance, the cry of a mocking jay could be heard, the resonance a comforting addition to the barren silence of the wood. Retrieving the book that Gaius has lent him to aid in the search, Merlin compared a bundle of unique leaves to its image. A perfect match. Gaius would be proud, the old man was the father figure that he had lacked growing up; to gratify him in even the smallest of ways would be a pleasure. Through with his collecting, Merlin stowed the herb packets into his satchel and began the short trek back to Camelot. All in all a successful day. Oh yes, Merlin truly did love to pick herbs.