I! AM! BACK! (Apparently it is common to reference pop culture when communicating. I am attempting this with a well-known method of subtly changing a popular quote to convey humor.)
So, I really do love all those beautiful reviews. Any critique you can dispense to help with the writing/plot is welcome. But I do have to ask freshly caught Cornish pixies to perhaps dial down the enthusiasm. You can come across as vaguely threatening.
Merlin is not not not not not mine! Try figuring that one out!
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000000000
Gwaine tried very hard to resist the impulse to yell.
Contrary to popular belief, the errant knight was actually rather shrewd. Well, perhaps not when copious amounts of liquor were involved, but when sober (or even half-sober), Gwaine had surprised a few people with his practicality.
Right now, however, he was fighting to stay the only sane person in the room. It wasn't a role he was used to.
Especially when Merlin, of all people, chose to reveal that he was completely insane.
This much.This much. This much for a selfish, idiotic, bragging nobleman who didn't even notice that he gave this much.
Neither did you, a small voice whispered in his ear, and Gwaine took on a scowl.
For the first time, Merlin appeared to be registering the impact of his scars on the room. An expression Gwaine realized was shock flitted across his face, and his shoulders stiffened under Gwaine's hands.
He didn't mean to show us.
The thought was presented to Gwaine in a matter-of-fact way. He realized it was logical. Merlin obviously went to great lengths to hide the scars. Revealing them in the heat of the moment most likely hadn't been thought out.
For some reason, Gwaine felt vaguely sick. When or where had Merlin started to believe he should hide something like this?
A serket sting.
That, of all things, was what assaulted Gwaine the most. The burn mark - Gwaine had heard of the dragon's rampage. The line on his throat - he couldn't look at that for too long or his blood began to boil dangerously, but it was straightforward enough. The smaller, reddish scars - he didn't know what to make of them.
He had seen victims of serket stings before, and simply couldn't reconcile the image of Merlin in that much pain.
And Merlin still hadn't answered his question.
"What happened?"
"I..."
Very rarely was Merlin at a loss for words. Just another indication of how twisted this day had become.
Merlin felt as if he were standing under a waterfall, with panic crashing down and threatening to break him under tons of pressure.
Why did I do that?
A major strength that Merlin had when dealing with the threats to Arthur and/or elsewhere was his anonymity. He could move freely, act without fearing that one of his friends would follow him and get killed (Lancelot, his mind whispered, even as he tried for his own mental health to tell himself there was nothing he could have done). Even though he knew if he failed that his friends would pay the price, while he was fighting alone he could tell himself that it was only his life on the line.
Gwaine was still holding his shoulders, a desperate, almost feral look in his eyes, waiting for an answer.
Something almost like calm swept through Merlin.
There was nothing he could do.
Nothing at all.
One of the many, many secrets he had been keeping was out into the light, and there was no shadow where it could hide again.
It gave one a peculiar kind of peace to know whatever they can do will not alter the path they see before them.
"I just told you."
The strange calmness showed in Merlin's voice. Gwaine's face flickered, and he slowly took his hands from Merlin's shoulders.
"Me?"
Arthur sounded small, like a young child being shown something that both frightened and confused him.
"Because of...me?"
"Not because of you. For you. Most of it."
It was an important distinction, Merlin felt. It was hardly Arthur's fault he was a target. He didn't invite traitors and assassins and 'problems' to take turns trying to stick a dagger in him. He didn't ask Merlin to stop them. If Merlin was hurt, it was for Arthur, not because of Arthur.
However, Arthur paled at Merlin's words. He swayed almost imperceptibly.
Gwen reached out to steady him. Elyan stepped forward to help, though it seemed like they were doing it mostly on reflex, eyes still full of shock.
"And the..." Leon gestured toward his back.
Unconsciously, Merlin's right hand curled around his side, brushing the large, jagged oval.
"When I followed Morgana...she found me."
Gwen made a small, choked sound. Arthur simply stared at Merlin with dead eyes.
"Morgana did that?" Arthur sounded distant, as if trying to remove himself from the physical world so he could have time to figure out everything that had happened.
"And Morgause. I got away after they left me for the serkets and...I don't remember much after that."
Yet again another lie effortlessly slipped out. Merlin certainly did remember the searing agony that felt as if his very blood had been set afire, or turned into it. He wasn't about to tell them that, though.
"How did you not die, Merlin?" Gwen sounded hesitant, with a touch of confusion.
A dragon healed me because I am a Dragonlord. "I don't know. It's like the Dorocha. Somehow I'm the exception to every rule." He gave her a wan smile, trying to ignore the sharp prick of telling blatant falsehoods to her face.
Percival looked thoughtful. "That does seem to be true. Gaius said no man has ever survived an attack from the Dorocha."
Merlin shrugged. "See?"
"Gaius." Something in Arthur's gaze sharpened. "You would have needed...help. After the sting, even if it didn't kill you. And also patching up all those other wounds. Gaius knows, doesn't he?"
Merlin hesitated, then nodded. It wasn't as if he could claim he patched himself up. Half his injuries had left him deeply unconscious or in too much pain to think straight.
Arthur briefly closed his eyes, opened them, and sighed deeply.
A few tense seconds passed, and he said quietly, "I must remember to thank him, then. And..."
There was a pause, shorter this time.
"Thank you, Merlin. For everything I don't know.
