The song is mine, nothing else.
Thanks to my beta TheJunebug1218.
I just want to ask. You put lot of alerts, so why don't you review? It's okay if you don't answer but it is odd.
I have started two new Merlin fic. Modern AU Breathing (don't let 1 chapter confuse you lol and there is lot of whump) and what you wanted, really dark Merlin whump Dark Edge, sequel to Over the edge.
Gwaine walked the whole day to reach the lake. The warmth of summer made him feel joyful and slowed down his steps. He was hunted the perfect, nice and fat rabbit to roast over the fire. Really, there was not a worry in the world. When he finally reached the lake, he heard the song. The melody was calm and slow, sung through a boy's voice. He stopped to listen.
Wind in the trees, wind in the field.
Hay swings, wave on the sea.
Drizzle the draught, my bones hurt.
Into my arms you belong.
Mother swing the baby boy.
Leaf on the tree falling down.
Tide turns its course.
Into my arms you belong.
Warm of skin, your touch.
Wreath, in your thin hair.
I feel the power of love.
Into my arms you belong.
When the song stopped, Gwaine stayed still. The sorrow that echoed in the voice was overwhelming. Gwaine's gaze caught the singer who sat down at the lake's bank. A ragged figure.
"Lovely song." Gwaine finally raised his voice.
The boy jumped around and stared him. Gwaine saw the campfire.
"You can get a good draught in here. Can I borrow your fire? I have one fat rabbit in here."
The boy nodded. He seemed unsure of what to do.
"I can share this if you want."
The boy shrugged his shoulders. Gwaine started to prepare the food and slowly the boy came closer and sat on the other side of the fire.
Gwaine thought that the boy in front of him was probably older than he seemed, maybe in his twenties. His raven hair was long, his ears ridiculously big and outstanding. He was tall, skinny and pale. Too skinny and pale. He was more bones than flesh. He limped on his right leg. The boy looked at the campfire with hungry eyes at where the rabbit was now frying. The eyes seemed little bit odd though.
"So, what is your name?" Gwaine asked.
"I don't know." The boy didn't look at him. Gwaine stared.
"You don't know?"
"I was ill, really sick. I hit my head. Kilgharrah said that I have to put the pieces together myself."
"Kilgharrah?"
"He took care of me, when nobody else could.
"So… you hit your head and lost your memory?" Gwaine tried to follow.
"No, I paralyzed part of my arm and leg. But they are good now. Partly."
Gwaine was confused.
"Then why did you lose your memory?"
"That, I don't know."
"But didn't your caretaker accost your name?"
"No. He always used young one or my kin."
"Really odd."
"You don't know how odd." The boy rolled his eyes. "But a couple of weeks ago he said that I could go. That I had to find my future again."
Gwaine felt himself lost in thought. This boy interested him. He looked like a wounded deer, wounded but still his head was up, proudly walking forward.
"Right. Hey, do you like company? I'm heading to Camelot if you want to come along."
The boy's eyes met his. Yes, in those eyes there was something wrong.
"Why not." The boy shrugged his shoulders again. "Where is Camelot?"
"Somewhere southwest. I have never been there, in the neighboring kingdom yes, but not Camelot. They say that the King is little bit mad. That he got crazy when his wife died and now all magic is forbidden."
The boys eye's wandered in the lake.
"Really? Magic is forbidden?"
"If anyone uses it, or even has the gift, then you are dead. Oh, and I heard that the prince was in some sort of accident last autumn. The magicical kind."
"The prince?"
"Arthur Pendragon, Uther's only son."
"Arthur." The boy murmured, looking thoughtful to the lake.
"Say, what was that song. A lullaby?"
"Maybe. I don't…"
"Remember. Yeah, I get it now. Here, take this. Maybe it was your mother's song."
"Maybe." The sorrow was back in his voice when took the peace of meat and Gwaine swore at his own stupidity.
"You'll remember it someday. But what am I'm supposed to call you?"
()
"Northeast?" Arthur asked.
"Northeast, near Longlake." Lancelot answered. They rode side by side on the narrow road. Lancelot reached Arthur two days after the prince left Camelot with news.
"You are sure?" Arthur demanded.
"I have hearkened the whole winter for news. This is the first time that I've heard anything like that. The dragon was seen near Longlake." Lancelot assured.
"Alright, that is the best shot what we have. Lucky that I haven't gone too far west already. Are you going to tag along?" Arthur admitted to himself that he was annoyed when Lancelot was coming.
"I promised to Gwen that I would help find him. He is my friend, my best friend. I want to find him. Why you are here? You have other duties to do as a prince. Finding a servant is not something that you do."
Arthur felt like something pang him. He didn't look at Lancelot.
"He has saved my life many times. I have to know if he is still alive."
"That's it?"
"And I promised to Gaius. And to Guinevere." Arthur's tone was a bit too callous. Lancelot observed the prince. He knew that because Arthur was raised as a royal should be, he lacked in showing his emotions on the outside. Except his anger, there was still work to do. Lancelot guessed that he had hit a nerve when he mentioned Merlin being a servant. They all knew what Merlin was. Servant, yes. Sorcerer, yes. Friend. A really good friend. Yes. But there was still something behind Arthur's actions, but Lancelot wasn't too stupid to push too harder, so he let it be. For now.
"Should we go right, to the east or…" Lancelot started but was suddenly interrupt by the sound of high pitched scream. It made their horses rise up onto their hind legs. Lancelot saw Arthur get thrown to the ground. Lancelot tried to calm his horse but then the scream was heard again and the horse bolted.
Lancelot felt the air in his face when he flew out of the saddle. Then he realized that the ground was too close and then, blackness.