So... This was an experiment. Just to see if I've got Merlin's character (or rather, Merlin's angst-y side) nailed. I mean, come on. If you look at it in another perspective, Merlin did sacrifice a lot for Arthur. He had suffered physically and emotionally, always torn between his duty to his kin and his loyalty to his king. I feel that that part of him hasn't been explored enough for my taste. Then again, maybe it's just my angst-loving side talking. Who knows?
Anyways, I'm rambling. What you think, comments—anything—are welcomed! I'm not that good with grammar, so my sentences tend to sometimes get awkward. Any suggestions on how I could improve that would be much appreciated!
That said, enjoy! ^ ^
Update: Fixed a few grammatical errors.
Just Another Day
It was the end of another day.
Merlin sighed, watching the last rays of the sun disappear, signalling the approach of darkness. Where the secrets of the world crept in, witnessed only by the tiny twinkling diamonds in the vast nothingness. Night. It was the only time of day Merlin could feel relaxed. Though even then he was a bit tense. Still, it beat the vague feeling of being naked on broad daylight. When the sun was around he always felt shifty, always cautious, never letting his guard down. The light signified a time of being open. And the warlock could never afford to be open. . .
Another day. . .
Yes. Today was just another day. Another day of lies, of unwanted pretending. It was another set of moments of chances ignored and neglected. Another day being Fear's ultimate slave. It was actually funny, the warlock thought. Here he was, protecting Arthur, The Once and Future King, without any regard for his physical being. He could take on a thousand armies, confront Morgana—even make a deal with the Devil himself. But should he be asked to confess his association with the thing his king hated the most, his legs would carry him away immediately, far before he would realize.
And so, day by day, he struggled with the weight of not only his unwanted fate, but also of his many lies. To lie so many times was already tedious enough, but to lie to your own loved ones was. . . heavy. Very heavy. And he did that with a straight face. While looking to their eyes. While seeing them smile because they believed you. While knowing they believed you.
It was. . . really heavy. And sad. And heart-wrenching. And sometimes the pain would be enough to make him scream out loud. Every time his mouth would utter the superficial words, his heart would break. He knew the consequences of his actions. Should everyone find out all his lies. . . They would never forgive him. They would hate him. Just the thought made his stomach clench uneasily.
He shook his head, lying down on his little cot, spreading the meager covers over him. But he didn't need to think of that now, anyway. For now, he'd just focus on trying to get through another day. Another day of facades, forced lies, unwanted secrets. . . Another day of unrewarded sacrifices. Well, he knew he'd be rewarded—just not very soon. When Arthur finally becomes the person Merlin knew he would, perhaps he'd understand...
But enough of that. The young boy was tired. For now, he would sleep. And tomorrow he'd wake up, protect Arthur, force a smile upon his face, then repeat all over again. Because tomorrow would be just another day for everyone; just another day in the young warlock's life.