AN: OH NO! IT'S A LONG ONE! D; 11 Pages. /3 /3 /3 all the heartbreaks! Anyway, I only own Shalott. I don't own Merlin or Uther or Arthur or any of the other characters (except Henry because Henry is useless).
"Pass?" Merlin suggested. Everyone in the circle stared at him as if he were crazy, or glared at him. A month had gone by and, though Merlin had recovered, Arthur could only tell his father that grief counselling might help him. After all, if Merlin remembered: Taliesin is just getting over his grandfather's death. You always told me that suicide attempts after the death of someone close to you is a cry for help. Not strong men, like Bates, but others. Weaklings. Those are you words, father. Plus, he's the best volunteer we've got.
Arthur had beamed at him and that is the story of how Merlin was sentenced to this 'grief' counselling. And, of course, it had to be GROUP 'grief' counselling.
Taylor, the leader of this cult, shook his head and took that condescending tone that set Merlin aflame with anger. "Now, Taliesin, we're all here to get support from each other. You cannot heal until you've dealt with it."
Martha, one of the women who was in this stupid session due to the death of her husband, nodded and placed her hand on Merlin's knee. "You're among friends. What you say won't be used against you."
"I'm just not… comfortable talking to strangers about this." Merlin answered quickly. Taylor shrugged.
"It's all part of the healing process." Merlin sighed. Of course, it's part of the 'healing process'. After all, a thousand-year-old warlock who waited for Arthur to return to help his best friend has so much in common with all these people who are dealing with death. This, he reminded himself, is why I don't talk to people when Arthur is dead. But, the sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can be useful.
Just as he was thinking about his lie, Taylor spoke again. "Excuse me, this session is already started."
Merlin turned, a smile spreading across his face – part from recognition and part from the attention drifting from him. Standing in the doorway, a familiar brunette with kind, brown eyes smiled softly at Taylor. Lancelot DuLac strode to the center of the circle to meet with Taylor. "I apologize for interrupting…"
He handed over a note. Taylor read it, confusion turning into a fake smile he used for everyone in the group. He tossed the note into his binder and told him to take a seat. Everyone's attentions returned to Merlin but, Merlin's attention was focused on the Lancelot look-alike. Just like that, time was up.
Merlin wandered down the halls, desperately searching for Arthur. He found him in Gaius' chamber as the old man dressed, finally leaving this 'dismal' place. Arthur smiled at Merlin as Gaius leaned against the boys' arm, his eyes on the cane nearby. Merlin grabbed the cane and held it out to Gaius. The old man took it gratefully and spend off with his cane to the exit. Both Merlin and Arthur laughed, quickly dying down.
"How's the grief session going?" Arthur asked as they started after Gaius.
"It's bull. I've lost a lot of people and talking about it doesn't help!" A concerned look crossed Arthur's face as Merlin's face broke into a smile. "But, I saw someone who we know."
"Mordred?" Arthur scrunched his face.
"No… Remember, it goes in sequence." Arthur furrowed his brow as Merlin continued. "Lancelot! He's studying to be a doctor once he gets over… this portion."
Arthur brightened at the thought. Merlin nodded, sensing the shift. "I'll see what I can do."
"Also, help me with the story I need for the sessions." Merlin pleaded. Arthur shrugged.
"As far as I can tell, you're insane. Text me."
"Hi. I'm Taliesin and I'm dealing with grief." The sentence made him smile despite his anger of having to share. It was more like an AA meeting. Maybe it was – some smelled of a distillery. He had only been paying some attention.
"Hi, Taliesin." The crowd echoed. Merlin looked at Taylor, questioning what to say next.
"Tell us what happened." Taylor suggested as a start. Merlin sighed and rubbed his temples. This was more annoying then having to cram for any test.
"I guess… I just… Needed an escape. A brief escape." Merlin answered, finally. He was unable to say more than that, unsure of what to say. The room was quiet. Merlin waited for more instruction.
Taylor cleared his throat. "And?"
"That's all. That's all that happened." Merlin shrugged.
"Well… That's good for a start. Thank you." Taylor smiled encouragingly. He turned his attention to the latest newcomer – Lancelot who, was named Blake. Blah, Blake, Merlin thought. "Blake, would you like to share your story?"
Blake glanced around the room nervously, gathering his courage. "H… Hi. I'm Blake…"
"Hi, Blake." The group started. Yeah, Merlin thought, definitely AA. Blake remained silent, his lips moving to find the words to start.
"Maybe you could start with how you came to negative grief?" Taylor suggested, eyeing the paper. Merlin raised an eyebrow. Blake nodded.
"There was this… girl. Beautiful, clever, shy… I don't think we ever really talked. And, well… She started acting like we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I guess it was my fault… I led her on and I didn't stop it… But, apparently, being pleasant isn't leading someone on. Or so my guidance counsellor thinks. Anyway, she started following me and stuffing my locker with love letters…" Blake swallowed audibly. After a couple of minutes, he breathed deeply and cleared his throat. "A couple of months ago… She… She died. Drowned. They found the boat in the middle of the lake and her body floating next to it…"
"I think I remember reading that." Martha interrupted. Lancelot gripped the underside of his chair. "Didn't they rule it as a suicide?"
Blake nodded, hiding his face. Merlin knew that expression well. He wore it many times when people he loved were in trouble. Determination. Guilt. Merlin stared at him for several minutes. Taylor had drifted all their other attentions to another in the group. There was something about Blake's countenance that had Merlin convinced that it wasn't the whole story. For that reason, he waited for Blake to finish up packing and the room to clear.
"Hey. Blake, right?" Merlin tried, smiling politely. Blake glanced up.
"Yeah… Uh, Taliesin?" Blake pointed towards him.
"Yeah. I'm sorry about… Martha. She says the most inconsiderate things when it's not needed. And… About the girl."
"Thanks." Blake muttered, turning his head towards the window at the mention of the girl. Merlin tried to hide his suspicion.
"What's up?" Merlin asked, setting his backpack down.
"Hm? Oh, it's… It's nothing."
"You sure?" Merlin pressed. Blake stopped and surveyed him slowly.
"No." He answered after a few minutes. "But, if I tell you everything, you have to promise to keep it to yourself."
"Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a sword in my eye." Merlin replied. Blake glanced at the door and then the walls, stopping at the window then, back to Merlin.
"Well…" He set his bag down and sat in an available chair. Merlin followed in suit, sitting close to Blake. "A few days after her… I was drinking. I felt bad for the girl and, I remember, I was talking with my friend who said, 'be glad that Avalon bitch is dead'."
Blake's voice dropped to a whisper on the swear. "And… this black cat comes running in just as he insults her and claws him so badly, he needed stitches. Ever since then… It's kind of like…"
"Like she's continuously watching you from beyond the grave in the form of animals?" Merlin replied. Blake raised an eyebrow and nodded.
"The worst of it is…"
"The nightmares." Merlin nodded, sharing a pitying smile. Blake paused, his brows furrowed.
"Yeah." He glanced at his watch and grabbed the strap. "I'm late for my first shift. See you later?"
"Yeah, definitely." Merlin smiled, his face falling once Blake had left. The Lady of Shalott – the witch who fell in love with Lancelot the first – had returned. And this time, it was no mystical animal. It was perfectly ordinary. Merlin had dealt with her aftermath, when Lancelot was dead. Come to think of it, when Arthur was dead. She had blamed him for both.
With a sigh, he dragged a hand through his hair. How was he going to rid him of her?
Arthur choked on his food when Merlin had arrived at his table filled with his friends. It was uncommon for Merlin to approach anyone, never mind Arthur's table of Knights. Glancing at his friends, he nodded to Merlin as they glared or raised an eyebrow. Merlin gratefully took a seat. A few of Arthur's 'knights' inched their chairs away from him, giving them enough space to talk.
"What's up?" Arthur asked quietly. Merlin glanced in Blake's direction. Arthur frowned. "I tried."
"I need to keep an eye on him." Merlin informed Arthur. Arthur set his cutlery down.
"I can't, OK? I asked and I can't. I'm sorry." He lifted his fork again.
"Right." Merlin shot Arthur a look. The young prince set his fork down again. "I waited two centuries only to be told to sit back and watch it happen again."
"That's not fair. If you want him in so much, you change U… Richard's mind."
"You don't think I haven't tried that? He's as thick headed as ever." They observed Blake's movements as he ignored those around him. Even without the attention of his stalker, Blake had a lot of attention – especially from females. Merlin smiled. The strong, silent, reading type is everyone's fantasy, then. Arthur groaned.
"Fine. If you can get him to budge a little, I'll try to make him see sense. Deal, Taliesin?"
Merlin grinned and stood. "See you at work, Henry."
Taking a turn away from the cafeteria, Merlin entered the library and found an old year book from the shelf. Apparently, everyone could have their picture in the yearbook at this school. It was different from what he had been accustomed to. With a sigh, he flipped over to the first page, scanning for Avalon. That must have been her last name. His eyes swept over the page, widening at a familiar face. Natalia Avalon with her clear green eyes and sinister smirk so familiar in another time.
When Merlin had moved into his apartment, it had been silent. Now, at midnight, just as he was replying to an online wizarding friend, a shrill sound broke through the apartment's silence. Squinting at the clock, Merlin grumbled to himself. He was sure that the neighbors across the hall from him had forgotten their key again. He stood at the intercom when they buzzed again. He flicked the switch, deciding to tell them off. "If you lost your key, buzz the landlord!"
He flicked it down. From the other side, he could hear murmuring. Finally, a clear voice answered. "It's… Henry and Blake."
After buzzing them in, Merlin threw on a shirt and quickly messaged his warlock friend. Then, he leaned expectantly against the doorframe. Arthur appeared first, his face drained of color. A sheepish Lancelot followed.
"What happened?" Merlin shouted at Lancelot as he set Arthur on the couch.
"He asked his dad if… I could… Assist him. His dad refused and Henry and he got into an argument. I found him wandering the streets, singing loudly with a bottle in his hand. I offered him a ride. He said… He said this address." Lancelot ran a hand through his hair. "I feel so bad. I didn't even know…"
Merlin felt his heart sink as he slipped a bucket near Arthur's head, the conversation replaying in his head. He cleared it, knowing it was his fault. His eyes lingered momentarily before turning to his other guest. "It's not your fault. How about I make you both some tea?"
Lancelot shook his head and pushed Merlin onto the couch. "I'll make the tea. I owe it to the both of you."
Merlin thanked him. Once convinced that Lancelot was out of earshot, he hit Arthur's arm. The blonde man's head lolled to Merlin. "You knew that was going to happen."
"Know what?" Arthur breathed in heavily, wracking his brain. "Father mentioned understaffing. I suggest it and he went berserk!"
"Well, yeah! Did you expect him to change that much? No one changed!" Merlin inhaled, massaging his head. It was like he was stuck momentarily. "Back when we were knights, we were able to change an entire world within a generation. No one changes…"
"Back when we were knights?" A new voice asked. Merlin's head snapped up toward Lancelot. Arthur smiled and slung an arm around Merlin's shoulder.
"Yeah, when we play Knights!" Merlin intervened. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Lancelot set the mugs down and sat on the chair across from them.
"I see…" Lancelot set down the teas. Merlin picked it up instantly. "Sorry but… How long have you two been?"
Merlin started choking on it, coughing as he reached to set it back down. When his air passages had cleared out, he heard Arthur laugh. "What makes you say that?"
"Couple of things. Henry kept saying that you were going to be mad at him. Some of the things he said make more sense than reality. And, of course, you're not denying it. Lancelot took a sip of tea, his eyes on the water. Merlin raised an eyebrow at a drunken Arthur.
"What did he say?"
"He just kept calling me Lancelot, insisting he was Arthur. And that he couldn't keep Uther from making the same mistake." Merlin breathed in a sigh of relief.
"Yeah… Well, you know, Henry's a fan of Arthurian legend. Half the time, he believes it himself.
Lancelot grew concerned as Arthur kicked Merlin's leg. Merlin grinned to himself. Poetry? This and poetry. You sure know how to make me sound homo, don't you?
"Isn't that a sign of schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder?" Lancelot asked.
"Or a creative brain." Merlin answered. Lancelot nodded and set his tea down.
"I have to get going. Call me if you need a hand." He slipped his number into Merlin's hand and shot him a pitiful smile. Arthur woke at the slam of the door.
"Arthurian Legend?" Arthur glared.
"You were supposed to be asleep. What did you want? The truth?" Merlin argued, his blue eyes narrowing. Arthur shook his head.
"How about something that made me sound less like a romantic girl?"
"You were a damsel." Merlin muttered, feeling the connection of Arthur's foot and Merlin's back. Merlin slipped his laptop onto his lap. His friend had left for school but, his incantation had been incomplete. Arthur leaned over the computer, sipping tea.
"What does that say? Is it in… English?"
"No, old Welsh. Jed is a huge fan of Celtics. He's a practicing warlock."
"Did you say you're the best warlock around?" Merlin snorted.
"Yeah, after Kilgarrah." He rolled his eyes.
"Who's Kilgarrah?" Arthur asked, resting his head against Merlin's shoulder. Merlin froze momentarily. He's drunk.
"Well… You remember that big dragon you slew? And Balinor, the last of the Dragon Lords?"
"Yeah…"
"Well…. You didn't so much as slay him as I found out Balinor was my dad and I, the last of the Dragon Lords." Arthur groaned and headbutted Merlin's upper arm.
"Why do you always wait until the last possible moment to tell me shit?"
"Simple: you don't ask." Merlin retorted, glancing over at Arthur. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "If you're staying over, you can have the bed.
Arthur shook his head and collapsed to the couch arm. "You take the bed. It's your home."
In the morning, Merlin was temporarily blinded by the morning sun. Merlin had fallen asleep on top of Arthur, dozing off at three am and collapsing on a drunken Arthur. He entertained ideas of old – sharing a burlap blanket, Arthur's sword hovering in close range. The more Merlin thought of it, the more Merlin noticed the happiness worming its way through his body, overheating him at times.
Arthur, still half asleep, swung an arm around Merlin's frame. Merlin's tired focus watched the sleeping face of Arthur.
"Sorry." Arthur muttered as he woke. Merlin's small frame had been crushed as the more muscled one rose, careful not to damage his sleeping companion. Merlin continued to steal glances at Arthur, disappointed once the door closed. Funny – he had disappointed Arthur many times but now, without so much as a goodbye, Merlin felt cheap. After all, he had given Arthur the couch.
Even now, Merlin stole glances at Arthur across the cafeteria with a feeling of disgust. His oldest friend continued to ignore him. There he was, laughing with his crowd of idiots, treating Merlin as if he were invisible. He felt it fester in his mind as a rage stormed across his face.
"Taliesin?" A familiar voice called. Merlin snapped out of his thoughts and found Lancelot standing next to his table, a tray in hand.
"Blake." Merlin blinked a few times then shifted awkwardly, nervously glancing at Arthur's table before returning to Lancelot. "What are you doing here?"
Lancelot lifted the tray slightly. "Kind of obvious… Unless, you don't want me…"
His face fell at the prospect. Merlin offered a chair. For a moment, there was nothing but silence until Lancelot brought up homework. Merlin, having never attended a school, felt his head spin as he pulled out his binder. "Shit."
"Forgot?" Lancelot asked.
"No… Just… Didn't." He smiled pathetically as Lancelot let a roar of laughter, his face reddening as people turned to see – Arthur included. Merlin felt a surge of pride, finally gaining Arthur's attention. He fell into deep conversations with Lancelot. After all, he had silently vowed to fix Lancelot's Shalott problem.
Unfortunately for Merlin, as he sat in the back of the classroom, the Shalott problem had a new target. He felt eyes on him. Thinking it was Arthur on the other side of the room, he ignored it until he realized that was not the direction he was being watched from. Looking up from his textbook, Merlin stared straight into the eyes of a black cat, its yellow eyes narrowed and its ears back. Normally, Merlin liked cats. However… Merlin shuddered.
It wasn't until class was over that some bullies had thrown Merlin's backpack in the ladies washroom (a mistake they will remember, Merlin swore). Some girls who were doing their make up in the mirror called him a pervert and hit him with their bags, exiting as soon as they could. Merlin was alone in the washroom, his backpack's items strewn under a stall. With grace, he stood, their opinion valid of him but, hating their ignorance.
An old mist flooded Merlin's vision as he leaned down to pick up the assortment, circling around him. It wasn't until he started coughing water. It burned his veins momentarily before she materialized: the Lady of Shalott. Her form was the same it had always been: golden hair, narrowed cat eyes and a dress that held the appearance of scales. Merlin stood in her presence. "Milady."
She narrowed her eyes further. "Don't pretend to gain favor, Merlin of Camelot, Druids prophesised Emrys. Why keep that which belongs to me when you have that which belongs to you?"
Her hair flicked like a cat tail, ready to pounce. Merlin prepared a counter. "Why do you torture that which is yours? And, how can he be yours when he is someone else's?"
She let out a screech like an eagle. Merlin covered his ears. "How dare you critique my ways? You, who have no notion of what goes on in his heart nor mind. I have seen both! And, he shall be mine."
Her voice lowered at the last, almost like a prayer. Merlin sought her eyes. "You've never talked to him. I'd know better what goes on in his mind than you."
"Listen to the mighty warlock, trying to do trickery, explaining himself!" She glanced in the mirror, whiskers growing from her cheeks. "You say away from mine, I stay away from yours."
Merlin heard the threat as the catlike form stood before him in a way of a deal. He growled at it. "Go ahead. Arthur would be glad to see you."
He bowed and left, his backpack in his hand.
Merlin ran toward Lancelot, slamming into him. He knew his hair and eyes were wild and Lancelot made no hesitation in asking what happened. At first, he brushed it off, wondering if this new carnation of Lancelot could be as observant as the other. Lancelot grabbed Merlin's shoulder and sank down to his level, his eyes on Merlin's. "Seriously, Taliesin. What happened?"
"Have you seen a black kitten that looks oh-so-playful?" Merlin inquired, trying hard not to let anything give him away. Lancelot stared blankly but nodded.
"You've seen it too? This is my fault." He stood straight again and ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have told you what happened."
"Listen, Blake. There are many things in this world that are confusing." Merlin studied him carefully. "Tell me: do you sometimes see the girl in the cat?"
Startled, Lancelot's eyes widened. "Y… Yes."
"And, does this cat sometimes… Transform into the girl?" Merlin knew the second Lancelot stuttered that it was so.
"How… How did you know that?"
"Call it intuition."
"No, seriously." Lancelot grabbed Merlin's arm as the warlock started walking. "How did you know that?"
"She appeared to me. Threatened me. But, you're not alone, Lance. Blake. I know enough."
"Why do you call me Lance? How do you know that it isn't your imagination?" Lancelot asked, his eyebrow rising further upward with speculation and suspicion. Merlin patted his hand.
"I'll tell all. Remind me of these points and I'll answer them. But, for now, off to work we go." He whistled the tune of the dwarves from Snow White, leaving a frazzled Lancelot behind him.
Unfortunately, Merlin couldn't get out from Lancelot's gaze. His face had become serene towards Merlin, watchful. However, they had a shift to complete – a boring shift. Arthur had finally broken Uther, saying he'd take full responsibility. Merlin understood, with the sick constantly coughing. Why was it, even when he wasn't in a war, he got stuck looking after the sick?
As accustomed to looking after the ill as Merlin was, he allowed himself to try to remember his first encounter with Shalott, the Lady of the Lake. It had been a legend Lancelot had told him once before and he had used it for Arthur.
Drunk in his pain, Merlin followed the Faery path to the Lake of Avalon. The Faeries held the dead, watching them. And each faery ignored his pleas. He broke the willow branched and summoned a halfling from olden times. She approached
"Lady, rejected by both human and faery. She who haunts the lake of Avalon where her body was found. She who loved an unattainable man. I seek your help."
"Merlin Balar, Druid Emrys, I am honored." She floated towards him, her body and face disfigured from the elements. "But, I know not why you call me so."
"Lady locked in a tower, hidden from the world. Surely, you of all would know why with your mirror."
"That mirror cracked long ago when Lancelot himself beheld my body. He thought I was beautiful." She glowed at the thought.
"I ask for the return of the Once and Future King of Albion – Arthur Pendragon." He answered truthfully, bowing.
Shalott blinked rapidly before a smile appeared on her lips. "Two of your friends reside on this lake. Arthur. Or Freya?"
Merlin stared at her for a long time, reading her face. She continued, overjoyed. "One you cannot have, the other, willing. Which shall you pick? Which shall you scorn?"
"Freya is long since passed. It is Arthur I need." Merlin replied, phrasing his words carefully.
"And neither are in my power to return. How sad, little Warlock, to choose."
Merlin shook himself from the daydream only for Arthur and Lancelot to be staring at him. With a quick glance around, Merlin found himself in the locker room, his head swirling. Mist from the memory. With slow, deep breaths, he felt himself give way to his exhaustion. Meekly, he smiled at their unfriendly faces. "What happened?"
"Well…" Blake started.
"What happened? Really? That's the first thing you ask?" Arthur inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You created one of the biggest accidents of your whole miserable life!"
"Calm down, Henry. He just cut the power, not the generator." Blake answered back.
"Yes but, in that second, it could have killed a lot of people." Arthur retorted.
"It was like magic, though." Blake pondered. "I mean, he was just standing in the hallway."
"It was magic." Merlin answered. Blake raised a sceptical eyebrow as Arthur paled. "I'll explain later. You should return to your job duties, Blake."
"Uh… Right?" Blake scratched his head a little and shrugged. As soon as he left, Arthur punched Merlin's shoulder. Merlin rubbed the spot immediately.
"What, you just go around telling everybody?" Arthur exclaimed.
"Lancelot knew I had magic when you didn't. He figured it out in one adventure."
"But Blake isn't Lancelot! They might look the same and share the same mannerisms but, they're not the same person!" Arthur argued.
"Don't you get it? They are the same person! He's come back many times in different forms and yet, he always knows!" Merlin bit his lip, his eyes on the door Blake had gone through. "I need him to know."
"You have me. Why does he need to know?" Arthur crossed his arms, leaning against a locker. Merlin glanced for any other noise in the locker room.
"Do you remember the Griffin?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "You mean the big bird thing that terrorized Camelot? Yes."
"It arrived about the time that Lancelot did." Merlin hoped that he wasn't as big of a dollop head as he usually was.
"So… Lancelot's a sorcerer?" Merlin facepalmed as Arthur blinked, stupidly.
"No!" He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly. "The Griffin was summoned by the Lady of Shalott!"
"Isn't that the Lady of the Lake?" Arthur interjected. Merlin glared at him.
"No, the Lady of the Lake and Shalott are not the same person. Lake lady has been gone for a while now. The Lady of Shalott was converted into a poem. She loved Lancelot and vowed to do anything for him. He wanted to be a knight, she tried to make that happen in the afterlife. But, he rejected her because he loved Gwen. So, she cursed him and he spent most of his time away from Camelot trying to get rid of the curse. Thankfully, he managed it with the help of the Fae."
"OK… But that doesn't explain…"
"ARTHUR PENDRAGON, BLIBBERING IDIOT! Listen to me!" Merlin watched Arthur's shock towards his scream. Calming himself, he returned to his original voice. "The Lady of Shalott is back. Lancelot never knew that the Griffin and himself were connected but, there's a black cat who has now threatened your life. Understand?"
"So… Kill the cat and she leaves Lancelot alone? Wait, why me?" Arthur raised his eyebrow at Merlin.
"I got involved so, she threatened you."
"But, how does she know about me?"
Merlin paled slightly, becoming increasingly interested in the tile under his feet. "She knows about you because… I asked her to restore your life."
Silence followed. Merlin didn't dare meet the eyes of his friend and Arthur stood stunned. Shaking himself out of his stupor, the blond replied. "So, you want to protect Lancelot from this psycho bitch? And, you want to protect me from her?"
"Essentially, yes." Merlin's eyes strayed to Arthur's face.
"Why do you insist on protecting everyone when you can't protect yourself?" Arthur asked rhetorically. He rubbed his temples with his forefinger, planning. "Here's what we do. I move in with you for the time being, as does Blake. We'll take it in shifts until we come up with a way to get rid of Shalott. Yes?"
Merlin blinked furiously before he assented.
Lancelot glanced over the place before uneasily setting his backpack down and turning to the two. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes." Arthur replied, speaking for Merlin. Lancelot watched Arthur, leaning into Merlin.
"I still can't believe you told him."
"What else could I do?" Merlin asked, apologetically. "It's not just you anymore. She's threatened me, she's threatened Henry… Like it or not, we're all in this together."
"You still have to explain that… Magic comment to me." Lancelot said. Merlin held in a breath as Arthur came again, placing a hand on the slighter man.
"The magic comment…" Merlin muttered to himself. "Is difficult to explain."
"It really isn't." Arthur said. "Unless you're not suffering from the memories."
Lancelot blinked numerous times, sitting down. "You mean like… Fighting in World War One? Dying? Feeling a sense of… love when I was sitting with…"
"With Gwen? Or Gwaine?" Merlin asked. Arthur shot him a look and he shrugged. "Honestly, I've seen Lancelot more than I've seen you. He wound up with either depending on who he met first."
Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Gwen? Gwaine? Wait… Guinevere? As in…"
"King Arthur and the Round Table? Yes." Arthur finished quickly. "Apparently, we've been searching for centuries to reunite. Merlin – sorry, Taliesin – is the only one who's never died, waiting for us to remember, begging not to be alone. Apparently, the witch, Shalott-"
"She's not a witch! She just fell in love with Lancelot – you." Merlin turned to the newest initiate there. "Of course, she lives forever so, naturally, she'd find him – you."
"So… How do I get rid of her?" Lancelot asked, blinking rapidly. Merlin shrugged.
"Arthur thinks killing the kitty will work. Banishing spells, telling her off… I don't know. It's unchartered territory."
"But, you're supposed to be the one who knows!" Lancelot argued. "I mean, you've been alive all this time!"
"Yeah but, it's not like these issues came up in the first life." Merlin reasoned. "I was more concerned about a Griffin the first time, not so much concerned about why or by who."
He sat on the floor, spreading his arms out. Arthur set up the couch for Lancelot as Merlin fell into trance, chanting in the language of Dragon's – his magic flowing to the arcane language. Lancelot glanced at Arthur.
"Is… What is he speaking?"
"He's speaking the language of magic, as far as I'm aware of." Arthur glanced up and laid his hand on the other. "I remember my life as Arthur Pendragon."
"You're both wacko!" Lancelot answered though, he didn't shrug out of Arthur's grasp.
"You are, too!" He glanced at the warlock before continuing. "I remember every situation that was impossible. Merlin works hard to protect those around him. He always has. Especially me.
"Of course, he'd protect you." Lancelot answered, his eyes unwavering. His voice was filled with warmth instead of annoyance. His voice fell to a whisper. "When we sit at the table, he gives you the most anxious expressions, making sure you're OK. If it helps you, he'll focus."
Arthur gulped, his eyes on the warlock. Merlin stood again and stretched, ending the trance. His eyes moved to the couch. "I'll sleep on it."
"No, this is your home." Lancelot stayed. Arthur shook his head.
"No, you need protection. You take the bed with Merlin."
Merlin held up both his hands. "Guys, you take the bed. I won't sleep until I find a banishing spell – or, at least one that strays her off your path."
His vow ceased the argument and an air of responsibility landed on Merlin's shoulders.
Merlin brewed the coffee as Arthur and Lancelot talked to themselves. Despite Merlin's protest that he'd look for more banishing spells, specifically from his Warlock friend, Arthur talked strategy.
"Why didn't you do this before?" Arthur asked when Merlin returned.
"Excuse me for being a little distracted trying to resurrect you and not focusing on possible problems." Merlin grumbled, following it with bloody prat pole. Arthur sighed as Lancelot sniggered.
"Prat pole?"
"Yeah. I don't like profanity." With a glance at Arthur, he added funny, isn't it? Arthur opened a new tab while refreshing the e-mail.
"There's got to be something." He started typing into google. Merlin stopped him, scowling.
"It took me years to find one family that held the old belief and you want to type in 'how to banish a really old witch from finding a person'? Yeah, that'll work." The two glared at each other with Arthur breaking it.
"You're right. I just… I can't sit and wait. You know that's never been my strong suit. And, I can't sleep knowing danger that I don't know how to stop is lurking around."
"Yeah, I know." Merlin answered, turning to Lancelot. "We know she's playing on your pity. Is there… Is there anything blocking you from telling her to go away?"
"I tried… That's when she…" Lancelot bit his lip, forcing the memory out of his mind. Merlin nodded as Arthur sat.
"She what?"
"Drowned." Merlin replied, shooting a warning towards Arthur, returning to Lancelot. "Tell you what. Arthur is a trained swordsman. You sleep, and he'll watch for her."
"Yes, because black cats are easily spotted in the dark." Arthur snarked but stood.
"What'll you do?" Lancelot asked. Merlin shrugged, putting in his headphones.
"My usual – search for it in old books, wait for Warlock99 to get back to me, keep you updated. See if there's any repercussions to my plans."
"What plans?" Arthur asked, irritated as he stretched. Merlin just smiled.
Banishing spells weren't the warlock's normal area of expertise. Still, Merlin poured through the old diaries he kept, searching for something. Why had he never listened to those around him?
Warlock 99 hadn't been any help either – apart from just severing the link. Of course, that would have left Lancelot broken and hollow if he had any feelings towards her – which, he idd. Or, at least, manipulated emotions. Merlin poured over the sources on his computer, frustration and tiredness sweeping over him. With another pot of coffee and two am, he heard Arthur adjust his position in his chair. Merlin slid into the room with a mug for them both.
"Any…" Arthur began, taking the first sip mid sentence. Merlin nodded.
"Sadly. But, it all depends on Lancelot. I can give him the magic…" Merlin sat next to him. Arthur nodded and leaned his head against Merlin's shoulder. The blue eyes gleamed up at him. "Why don't you take a nap, Arthur."
"I'm a soldier." Arthur recited from an old memory, sounding more like the version of himself Merlin remembered. Straightening up, Arthur coughed. "Soldier's don't nap when danger is around."
"No but, soldier's sleep in shifts." Merlin replied. Arthur lightly nudged Merlin.
"Then, I'll take first watch."
"You'll be up all night. Why don't I-OK!" Arthur had shot him a death glare. Merlin laid on the floor and snuggled into a blanket, instantly asleep.
Arthur watched over the two sleeping forms, his eyes, though drooping, refused to close. He had tried to sleep earlier but, his mind recalled Lancelot's words: of course, he'd protect you.
Arthur's eyes shifted to Merlin. Had the Warlock worked this hard for him? He knew Merlin lived for him – or so his magic side said. Why else would he continuously regenerate to the point of youth?
A woman's form interrupted his thoughts. She grinned at him and pressed a finger on her lips as she hovered by the window. A voice in his head answered his objections. "I'm only here to talk with you, Arthur of the Pendragon Clan, Once and Future King."
Arthur examined his friends, bewildered. Not one of them strayed. He clutched his knife. Say what you wish to, Witch.
Her face screwed up at the slur but, she maintained her calm appearance. "I know the boy – Henry – writhes inside you. He lives and breathes but, his energy fades. The longer you live, the faster he dies. I can help you.
Let me guess: Kill Merlin? Give you Lancelot? Shalott let out a harsh laugh. Arthur nudged Merlin with his foot. Why had he let him sleep, knowing what a sound sleeper the boy was.
"I'd never kill Merlin. You'd never help me, then. But, maybe we could salvage a body for you. Salvage someone."
In exchange for Lancelot. She gave him a knowing grin.