Masks
The world had given them each masks, and each were expert at keeping the mask in place. One was given the mask of a commoner, an insolent servant who somehow managed to befriend an arrogant prince. The mask must be kept, must be maintained at all times else someone were to glimpse underneath it and see a far more tumultuous story, a tale of power and caution and reckless happiness.
The other wore the mask of a proud prince, a man confident holding the weight of the kingdom while continually maintaining a calm outward composure. The mask must never fall, must always be presented else someone tore past the composure to reveal the uncertainty and humanity and deep, soul-searching questions of the crown prince.
They were both very good, both experts in maintaining the necessary masks; indeed, it took a while for each to begin to see past the other's masks into the heart of their friend. (Friend was an unsteady word, cultivated primarily in the rare times when masks was not so rigorously maintained, and as such, went mostly unacknowledged).
Still, no mask can be kept forever, and in the privacy of a quiet moment, one might allow it to slip, just for a moment, to show the true soul underneath.
Merlin glanced up at his master, huffing at the ridiculous demands of the prince, and in the half-second between steps, their eyes met.
Hello, my friend, said the Once and Future King, and Emrys smiled.
My friend, he responded, and then Arthur was busy throwing a goblet - his aim was right on target, he was pleased to note, crashing into the wall less than a meter from his manservant as Merlin ducked hastily out of the way.
No mask was perfect; even Emrys and the Once and Future King were masks, forged out of necessity, yet the souls they contained were nothing short of extraordinary. Two souls, bonded in friendship, which started so humbly and ended in a destiny longer and deeper than the endless march of time. But that was later; for now, they performed their roles with impeccable grace, the one laughingly backing out of range while the other prepared yet another airborne missile for the hapless servant.
Destiny could wait; for now, the manservant leaned against the outside of the door, suppressing a smile, while on the other side, the prince allowed himself a genuine moment of laugher before beginning an afternoon of duties.
All right. Let's talk about 5x13.
Ever since season 3, I had thoroughly spoiled myself for 5x13. I knew about Gwaine, about Arthur, about Balinor and the crystal cave, about Mordred and Morgana, about Guinevere, about Merlin waiting forever for Arthur. I avoided watching clips of the last episode, but I basically knew what was going to happen..
But I watched 5x13 on Saturday for the first time. And - wow. Just wow. That was powerful stuff. I do have a bone to pick with everyone - what on earth made everyone assume Merlin turned into a depressed wreck for the next 2,000 years? Yes, it was absolutely devastating losing Arthur. However, Arthur lost his father despite his best efforts to save him, which I believe was also quite devastating for him, and still became an incredibly strong and compassionate king - magic aside, truly the King Arthur of legend. I believe it's the same for Merlin. Now completely in possession of his magic, he has such great potential to turn around and be a wise leader - perhaps for Camelot, perhaps not - but certainly later for the world at large. He already knows his part; work behind the scenes to help build goodness and avoid catastrophe. In this sense, he can truly become the Emrys everyone expects of him by the time Arthur returns, at which point they build Albion together.
*coughs* Excuse the rant. I'm sure there's a fanfiction waiting to happen here, but it's still coming together. Do I wish Albion could have come together under Arthur? Absolutely. I'm writing this in a Golden Age AU, after all. However, I think Merlin's wait need not happen in the depressed stupor everyone seems to write about.
(I think this author's note is longer than today's drabble. Sorry)
