Disclaimer: All of the characters, concepts, and anything affiliated with the Merlin franchise belong to the BBC.
The rest of the work belongs to me and should not be copied in any way, including translations, without my explicit consent.
AN: Merlin again. And it's angsty with a crazy protective Merlin with a side of unrequited/never-really-happened-but-Merlin-wants-it-to-happen-as-long-as-Arthur's-happy Methur. And yes, the title came from Mumford and Sons 'casue I was listening to this the entire time.
Still haven't found a beta.
Anyways, please review and thanks for reading.
Spoliers: Let's say it happened after S4 E9 Lancelot DuLac and goes into AU land/Myth land from there.
White Blank Page
He won't look at her anymore.
That's not true. When he has to, he will look at Gwen, but he never sees her. Not the old her, the girl who stood up for what was right. That wasn't her anymore. Not after what she's done.
(She understands, she really does.
She did something horrible, something that could never be forgiven, she doesn't deserve his kindness, his friendship, let alone his warm, friendly gaze. She's an adulterer.
A liar.
A betrayer.
Unclean.)
When he first found out about the affair, he sought her out.
He cornered her in an abandoned hallway and hissed at her, "How could you?"
She had tried to ask what he was talking about, although they both knew. They knew why he was so upset, why he wanted to do this away from prying eyes, why he did this now, when there was training; he did this to protect her husband. To protect the man she was betraying nearly every night for the past month as he was trying to make peace with surrounding lands.
To protect the man he has loved nearly as long as he has served. Because that's what he does, that's what he has always done and what he will always do, regardless of his own feelings.
He took a step forward, eyes blazing and asked once again, "How could you? He gave you everything!"
His love, his devotion, his trust, his heart. Everything Merlin could ever want; but it wasn't enough for her.
She cleared her throat and tried to speak, to explain, "I – it's – you don't under-"
"No." He shook his head. "I don't understand. I don't understand how can you lie next to him every night as he gives you himself, his heart, and pretend to do the same. How can you pretend to be virtuous, and good, and his, when you give yourself to another? How could you stand there and vow to be utterly his, when you then besmirch that promise as you leave his side? How can you pretend to be so noble and loyal when you are so false?" His voice was hoarse by the end as he tried to control his tears.
"You pretend to be this beacon of virtue when instead you are an adulterer. Unclean as the whores in the street." She tried and failed to hide her flinch as his voice begun to take a nasty edge.
He took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself before he spoke again. "You will stop this," he stared into her eyes with unchecked rage and determination, "You will stop this, or I will make you."
And she knew that he would. She knows that he would do anything for Arthur, to protect him, he's done so before.
Unable to speak, she gave him a shaky nod.
He began to walk away before he turned and caught her eye, the last real look he would ever give her, one laced with anger, disgust and jealousy; and vowed,"You will not hurt him," before he ran down the stairs to go and take his place by Arthur in training.
'Or I will hurt you' was unsaid but was still heard.
From that day forward, his face was an utter mask. He was different.
During the Round Table meetings he would keep an eye on them, always watching, chaperoning their behaviour, making sure that they acted as they were supposed to; the loving wife and the most loyal knight.
(He never spoke to Lancelot after the night found out.
It doesn't matter that the knight knows his secret and has the potential to ruin his relationship with Arthur, to make him the liar, the betrayer, the false friend. They both know that their lies are completely different; one done out of selfishness, the other out of fear and love. They know that Lancelot would not hurt Arthur again by exposing his friend for what he is, and he would never dishonour whatever remains of his frienship with Merlin by revealing his magic.)
They stayed away from each other, finally being faithful to their King.
He watched as they behaved as they should, as they barely had any exchange.
He watched as they played their parts for two months.
He kept his distance from both of them, finally relaxing as he believed that things had returned to normal, that things were as they were supposed to be.
Until they succumed once again.
This time, they ran.
They ran from their responsibilities and cut all ties from Camelot.
(He felt the rage swell up inside him when he found out; bringing up breakfast only to open the door and discover Arthur on the floor, letter by his side as he was unable to contain his hurt and anger at the betrayal of two people he loved the most.)
They ran from him, but they were unsuccessful.
He looked down at them as they rested in their make-shift shelter and he felt his rage rise up once again.
He travelled for sixteen days until he found them.
He would do anything to protect Arthur.
He raised his hand and felt the power surge up inside him as he sealed their fate.
Now, they would never hurt Arthur again.