TITLE:Worth Your Tears
RATING:T (just to be safe)
A/N:A little quick one shot that takes place after Lancelot sacrifices himself. Just a little something I thought was missing between Merlin and Arthur. I was so very tempted to add some Gwaine/Merlin bromance in here, but it felt forced in this short space. Hope you enjoy! (And review – reviewing is good too)
DISCLAIMER:I don't own Merlin. Obviously.
Drums beat mercilessly against Arthur's brain. The noise executed a crescendo and he imagined the whole of Albion could hear the terrible tribal music. He also wondered vaguely how long it would take before this chaotic clamor would cause his skull to burst open. He would almost welcome that. At least, then, he would be freed from the sound.
Moments passed slowly, like pages of a book being turned, and the battle song began to fade. Arthur soaked in the silence until even that then became too much - too silently loud. It was quiet. Far too quiet for his liking. He distantly tried to drag the memories of how he had fallen under the drum's spell to the surface of his still tender mind. They were like a dream. No, a nightmare. Sluggishly, as if emerging from some quick sand, they returned to him. Flashes of the Dorocha. Images of his people - dead and dying. A quest. Fire. Night. An attack.
Merlin.
His heavy eyelids snapped open, despite their odd thickness and weight. Merlin had spoke off sacrificing himself to close the veil instead of the prince doing so. If somehow Arthur had been knocked out, had his idiotic, selfless servant taken his place while he was unconscious?
Arthur bleakly and blearily blinked as he pulled himself off of the hard floor and began desperately searching for his faithful friend. The room was still. That silence that had so disturbed Arthur even in his semi-conscious state still hung in the air. The gatekeeper was gone, along with the tear in the veil it seemed.
That stupid, brave, selfless -
"Merlin!"
Arthur let out a jovial shout as his eyes found the familiar figure of his friend. The relief and elation Arthur felt surge through him was promptly put out as he took in the sight of his servant.
Merlin sat, slumped over, his back against the wall. His eyes were open, reassuring Arthur that he was still living. And yet, somehow he didn't seem alive.
As Arthur drew closer, he nearly shuddered. Merlin wasn't moving. He hardly blinked, his gaze lost somewhere beyond anything in this physical world that Arthur could see. It looked all too familiar to the state the servant had been in after being touched by the Dorocha. A panic pulsed through the prince's heart. What if the veil was still open? What if the Dorocha had once again come to claim them? What if Merlin was -?
No.
Arthur could see for himself that his friend was breathing. His face was paler than usual, but nowhere near the white sheet that had covered his skin before. His eyes were distant, and yet, focused.
The prince knelt in front of the statue of a man, trying to lock his gaze. He stared directly into Merlin's sea colored irises, but even then, he knew Merlin wasn't actually seeing him. With curious carefulness, Arthur slowly reached out, letting his hand land gently on Merlin's shoulder.
"Merlin?"
The young man suddenly sucked in a breath, as if having been held underwater. His entire body shuddered. Arthur waited as his friend's vision gradually cleared. Merlin's eyes wandered for a wavering moment, as if lost, until finally finding Arthur.
"Merlin? Are you alright? Tell me what happened."
Merlin's gaze slipped away from the prince, his eyes hesitating on something past his friend's shoulder. Arthur glanced behind him, noting the spot where the gatekeeper had stood.
"Lancelot."
The word was hardly a whisper and Arthur snapped his head back around to Merlin. In an instant, the prince understood the truth. How had he not noticed the man's absence? How had he not also thought of his knight?
Everything crashed over him at once. Lancelot had been the one to knock him out, he reasoned. His knight had taken the prince's place to seal the veil, to save the whole of Camelot.
And Merlin had watched it happen.
His heart ached and tore at the loss of his knight and friend, but also for the still living man before him. Merlin was a gentle soul. Sure, he had witnessed terrible things. He had fought men and beasts alongside Arthur and had stood at the side of dying comrades. He even faced death several times over himself. Arthur knew that this was not going to be easy for his friend. It wouldn't be easy for any of them, he thought as the grief stabbed at his soul. But Merlin? He handled these things so differently than the prince. And Lancelot had been one of Merlin's closest friends. Of course Arthur counted Lancelot as a friend, but theirs was nothing like the bond and brotherhood that Lancelot and Merlin had shared. And to have witnessed that friend's death himself?
"I - I tried to stop him."
Arthur looked down at Merlin as the younger man fumbled for words in a cracked voice that almost somehow sounded ancient. The servant was in shock. He appeared as though he had not even shed a single tear yet.
"He got - before I could. Before me. I wanted to -"
"Merlin," Arthur sighed, unsure of anything else to say.
The two sat in silence for quite some time, Arthur wordlessly watching as Merlin sank back into his catatonic state.
"Merlin," Arthur cleared his suddenly dry throat as he took hold of both of Merlin's shoulders. "Remember how I told you that no man is worth your tears?"
It took a moment, but finally Merlin offered a quick, child like nod.
"Well, Lancelot," Arthur drew in a deep breath. "Lancelot was a good man. A great man. He's definitely worth your tears."
For the first time since he awoke, Arthur felt as though Merlin was really truly looking at him. A pitiful small smile played at the corners of the servant's lips as he still tried to dam the floodgates. With another anxious set of nodding, Merlin swallowed a staggered breath and allowed his friend to help him to his feet.
Standing, the two shared a stretched silence as they stared soberly at one another. The moment passed and both men glanced away at the same time, Merlin shakily wiping at his face.
They had to leave this place. They had to go and inform the other knights of their fallen comrade.
Arthur knew Merlin would try not to shed tears in front of him, but the prince was convinced his words had taken hold and the shock and brave exterior of his friend were quickly fading. He would have to be strong for Merlin, for his knights, for Camelot, for Gwen, for Lancelot - and for himself.
They didn't get far before the two stumbled upon the still unconscious form of Gwaine. Wordlessly, the pair lifted the knight and carried their friend until they found the remaining knights. Percival plucked Gwaine up and into his arms like a newborn babe as Arthur relayed the news to his men. Few questions and answers were exchanged before the party fell quiet. Percival was hiding swallowing back tears as he adjusted his grip on the man in his grasp. Elyan offered to retrieve the body and Arthur saw Merlin stiffen and his skin became nearly transparent. The prince somberly informed them that there would be no body of their friend to bring back to Camelot.
There was hardly anything left of Lancelot in this world. He had owned very few meager possessions. His most beloved belonging, his sword, had disappeared behind the veil with him.
No, it didn't seem like they would have anything at all of Lancelot to bring home.
And that was when Arthur glanced again at Merlin and knew that that was not the truth. Lancelot had left something very precious indeed. He had saved Merlin's life when the two first met. Had then shortly after rescued Arthur and the whole of Camelot. He did not hesitate to come upon receiving Merlin's letter. The knight cared for his servant after Merlin was attacked by the Dorocha and helped to bring him back to Arthur's side. And now he had yet again spared both Arthur and Merlin's lives once more. Both men had been planning on sacrificing themselves to close the veil. Lancelot had done it for them. He had granted them their lives. Their friendship.
Arthur sent his knights ahead of them. He eyed Merlin as his men slowly departed, leaving the two alone.
With a strong hand on his servant's arm, Arthur fixed his friend with a steady gaze. Their eyes stayed locked like that for some time, the duo caught in a wordless conversation.
Neither Merlin nor Arthur would cry just then. It would be only when they returned to Camelot that they would led the tears flow. Right then, it was simply enough to be there with the other, together.
Silently, the two turned and made their way away from the memory stained place, Arthur slipping his arm across Merlin's shoulders as they went.
A/N: Sorry. Yes, I know that when they have Lancelot's funeral, they burn his sword. I'm not entirely brushed up on all my research, facts, etc. Is it his sword? Is it another one of his swords? Or just a knight sword? I thought he had his sword in his sheath when he entered the veil. Please don't skin me alive if I'm wrong. Just go with it people. Please?
