Heart Conquers

by JustYourAverageWhovian

"And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." - Khalil Gibran Servant of Two Masters, a drabble-peek into Arthur's thoughts. Merthur if you have your goggles on.

Random drabble of randomness based off this quote I saw on tumblr.

And just thought, you know what? I'm going to do a drabble. So here we are.

*0*0*

"Sire, there is no sign of Merlin."

Arthur stared at the piece of brown leather lying on the old map below him. Somewhere, somewhere far away, the members of the council were watching him expectantly. Waiting for him. Waiting for any sign that Arthur was not overcome with grief. Or hopelessness.

But he was.

What should he do?

His mind told him that Merlin, his manservant, his friend, his confidant was long gone. His mind told him that his Uncle had done his best. Agrivane knew Arthur, knew that Merlin was important to him. And the knights, they had done their best too. There was nothing left to do. His mind planned Merlin's funeral, the shroud, the day.

But his heart disagreed. His heart grappled onto the weak strings of hope. He hoped – he knew – that Merlin was out there, alive. Merlin was always alive. His heart sung Merlin's praises, of all the times that the clumsy, adorable manservant had come out of seemingly impossible situations with nothing but a scratch. In his heart, he knew what to do.

"I am sorry for the loss of such a loyal and-"

Arthur threw up his hand.

Merlin was not lost.

*0*0*

And there you have it.

I'd love it if you guys reviewed. This is my first drabble attempt. Also, I have a poll on my profile where you can vote on what you'd like me to write next. Multi-chapter wise I mean. It would mean the world if you went and voted, every vote counts.