This is a challenge presented by PrincessPo. It's to write about your best friend and a fictional character doing stuff. Also I will be updating my other fics tomorrow sorry they've been taking so long. I've been pretty busy and just haven't been able to update for a while. I will be updating every three days after that if you care to keep reading my stories or start reading them.
Whelp here goes nothing.
(P.S.~ I think you can guess who the friend is.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
The pitter patter of rain on the thatched part of the citadel's roof echoed through the stone corridors. The gray boulders in the sky through the rectangular, tower window danced as the large, round droplets fell to the green covered plains below. A thin, streak of lighting ended its course beyond the yellow flowered hills that led up to the woodlands which had bordered the city for thousands of years. The usually distant, bright yellow foliage had turned dull in the amidst of the raging winds.
On the sill of the man sized window a man in brown trousers and a morning sky blue shirt sat, leaning against the left side of the windowpane, at the storm he had created. Over his stained shirt he wore a faded, brown leather jacket that slightly wrinkled by the position his body was currently in. His melancholy, blue eyes searched the watery horizon for any sign of the storm coming to a close, but he knew it wouldn't. It probably never would.
It would rage on until the day he left this godforsaken world. It would pour down in big teardrop shapes and fall on the blissful life below. The angry thunder would rumble as the pain stricken lighting spilt yet another tree. The storm would continue to exist just like the hole in his heart.
A tear stained the red neckerchief wrapped around his neck.
He stared as another tear threatened to run down his pale cheek bones as he stared, loathing the scenery and the happy peasants below him.
How he hated the young couple who walked hand in hand as they left a fruit vender. He hated the way people smiled as they saw two young children acting out a knight's battle with sticks found on the muddy ground. He hated the way he had protected them: all of them. He protected all of Camelot from the hazardous enemies that most were oblivious to. He hated how the ones he had saved, the ones who he never knew, were happy while he suffered in miserable agony.
He had saved them, those who did not care for him. Even the ones who he loved were the cause of his pain.
Gaius was the one who had caused the doubt to form in the pit of his stomach. He hated Gaius. Gwen angered him as she tried to hide what was so obvious. He hated Gwen. Arthur…Merlin's face scrunched up at the very thought of the name.
He was his destiny, the one he was suppose to call friend. He protected him without gratitude or permission. The man who despite every rude, hurtful or degrading comment he had been willing to serve. And then the same man, his 'friend', betrayed him. Part of him wanted to forgive the prince. He hadn't known who the girl was, but then the other part reminds him that the prat probably wouldn't have cared if the girl was his own flesh and blood. He still would have sliced her open claiming it was the only way, when in reality he only did anything to impress his father with the courage and honor he held. To Merlin he was a coward. He hated Arthur, no he despised him.
He hated himself. He had drawn her into this. Talked her into hiding beneath the city streets. It was his fault she was dead. If he hadn't took her down there, perhaps if he had just let her gone into the forest, she would still be alive. Cursed but alive. Oh how he loathed that curse and the woman who had cast it on the unsuspecting, innocent girl.
He closed his eyes and lowered his chin so the bottom half of his face was covered by the red scarf. The tear rolled down his cheek.
She was gone. She was dead. His heart was broken, and his love was gone. He could never love anyone else again.
A few moments of tear-filled silence ended with the sound of hollow crashing and the shuffling of feet. Merlin's eyes shot open as he slowly and warily turned his head around to see the source of the noise. A look of confusion past over his face when he saw a young handmaiden kneeling down and picking up a mixture of fallen firewood. She was facing away from him, but from what little he had seen of her face he could tell it was beat red.
He coughed, trying to gain some of her attention but did not move from his spot.
She slowly stood up as her spine tingled from the surprise of another human being's voice. She turned around to face him. In some impossible way her face actually grew even redder. He could almost laugh at it if he hadn't been sulking away from everyone for the past hour and a half. The thin curls of her blonde hair peeked out from under her bonnet. Her light blue eyes met his as she gave her best attempt to overcome embarrassment with a smile. He only returned with a small jolt of his lips then looked at the cobble stone floor of the wood room.
He felt her gaze still on him so he looked up to find her redness had completely vanished and was replaced with a look of worry. Her head was tilted side ways as the picked up logs in her arms was softly placed down in a neat stack. His eyebrows knitted closer. Why was she worried? She didn't know him. Why should she care about him?
After a few more seconds in a befuddled stare off he decided to speak first and hopeful last.
"May I help you?" he asked, expecting the shy embarrassed look to return to her face as she took off for the door. But that was not the case. She shocked him with her next words.
"May I help you?" she asked with the deepest concern in her voice.
Could she help him? No one asked him that. Sure some had when there was something of great importance, mainly Gaius, but never a random stranger. And he had never thought with such sincerity would come with the statement. He looked deep into her eyes and only saw what he saw in his own eyes when looking into the still water of a bucket: concern and helpfulness. It was as if she truly wanted to help him.
He was lost for words, so she decided to move the conversation along.
"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked trying to gain his trust by making small talk.
"Um," was his only response. He looked down once more, unable to think straight. It hurt too much to think.
"That's not a very clever answer you know," she responded jokingly. The worry did not leave her eyes as a warm, welcoming smile stretched across her face. He remained silence. He did not want to deal with the pestering, younger servant at the moment. He just wanted to wallow in his own self pity. But the young maiden wouldn't have silence.
"Is it something to do with your master? Is it the prince? You are his servant are you not?" she questioned. He shook his head, still starring at the floor. Her shoulders dropped when she saw a crystal tear fall from the older boy's eye.
"It's a girl isn't it?" she asked but already knew the answer. There was no response except another tear, which he tried to brush away with his jacket sleeve. She nodded her head as she walked towards the window sill. He looked up as she stood next to him.
"Did she leave you?" she asked. It was then that he decided to answer.
"It was not by her choice," he answered stiffly then snapped his jaw shut when he realized he had said too much. He quickly adverted his eyes to the storm outside.
"Well then why dwell on it?"
"What?" Merlin asked sharply whipping his head to face her. Why dwell on it? Was she implying he should forget her? Forget his love? Forget Freya? He almost shouted at the girl with a defensive anger. The girl sighed and had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his unaware, male ways.
"I'm not saying forget her. I'm just saying you shouldn't be in this lonely room thinking of how cruel life truly is," she told him with wisdom far beyond her years. "Was there anything you could have done?"
"Yes," he answered solemnly.
"Oh, really? What then?"
"I-I-…" he was about to say save her when he realized there was no possible way he could of.
He couldn't have just let her into the woods. There'd be a massive hunt for her, lead by the bounty hunter, that would have ended in her capture given the state she was in.
He couldn't have told Arthur because she would have been discovered and hauled to the dungeons either by Arthur himself or some guards that would follow their prince to her location.
And he couldn't have used magic to protect her because his secret would have been blown, his destiny would have been fulfilled and they'd both be hunted down. The only time he could've used his magic to help her was when Arthur wasn't looking, like when he had knocked the statue down so Freya could make her escape into the night sky.
There was no way he could have done anything any different. There was nothing he could have done. She was meant to die. The thought should have sickened him but the one glimmer of happiness overtook the ill feeling. At least she had died in his arms. At least she had died loved.
"Well?' the maiden caused him to look up at her. He saw her face and gave a small smile which in return caused hers to grow.
"See? There's no point in fretting about things that could never change," she beamed at him and he nodded in return looking back outside. The gray clouds became wisps as the last drops of water landed below the hue of golden eyes.
He turned around, and for the first time in a while, gave a truly happy smile. It was his goofy smile that made the young girl giggle.
"What's your name?" he asked looking at her petite frame.
"Po," she answered sweetly, giving a small curtsy.
"Well it's nice to meet you Po. My name is Merlin," he greeted with a small bow of the head. The two chuckled at their use of formalities not meant for mere servants.
Merlin stood up and chuckled once more as the girl's eyes widened at his height which hadn't been seen due to the way he was sitting.
He looked down at the girl and smiled brightly. She was a beacon of hope. A ray of light which cause him to realize, he had lost his love, but that doesn't mean love was gone from his heart. There was no way of stopping his Freya's death, but the love they had was magical. And everyone deserved that at some point in their life. Weather it be with a lover, a loved one or a friend. Everyone deserved to be protected, to be concerned for, to be loved.
"Come on I'll help you with this wood," he told her as he picked up the whole pile of wood. She nodded and walked out the doorway. He followed the path laid out by her light footsteps. He stopped just before he entered the doorway and looked back at the window.
The sun's rays hit the gray stone, drying the drops that had formed small puddles on the sill. Merlin whispered an inaudible phrase and his blue orbs turned a fiery gold. He looked at his work and smiled, then walked out carrying the wood with a spring in his step.
The red rose seemed to sparkle as the sun shinned on the reminiscence of the rain surrounding it.