Greetings Readers! Here is the next oneshot for this collection!

Again, it's a rather sad one. I seem to be getting a depressed muse for some reason recently; I promise happy things will be coming soon!

Warning: Little Merlin at the beginning (although not much of a warning – a young Merlin makes me want to squeal at his cuteness); Mood whiplash after flashback to angst/hurt/comfort. Spoilers for 4x09

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters.

Merlin giggled merrily, his legs swinging slightly through the air, as he watched the show before him.

Hearing the sound, Hunith came out of the front door of their home and looked down at her small son, who was perched on the thick tree stump just outside the door that mother and son called his 'thinking tree.' "What is it, Merlin?"

Merlin pointed forward, still giggling, at the two young men in the center of the square who were throwing strange insults and buckets of water at each other while a young woman around their age was trying desperately to intervene. Hunith put one hand on her hip and clucked her tongue disapprovingly at the scene. "No shame." She looked down at Merlin, who still looked incredibly amused, the smile nearly splitting his face. "Merlin, stop," she chastised gently, "It's not funny. Those three need to figure out their problems in private, not in the square." Her face softened. "They're just causing themselves more problems in the long run."

"What problems, Mother?" Merlin asked. "They look like they're having fun!"

Hunith shook her head. "No, Merlin. Both of these young men love that woman." She continued, muttering under her breath. "It's been a complete love triangle since her family moved here."

"But love's a good thing, isn't it, Mother?" Merlin piped up, "I love you, so it must be good!"

Hunith smiled down warmly at her innocent son. "Love can be very good," she agreed, "but it can bring great hurt as well." A poignant look that Merlin would come to associate with mentions of his father in years to come entered his mother's eyes as she turned to enter their home.

Kicking his legs enthusiastically, Merlin continued watching the spectacle in front of him and grinned. No matter what his mother said, love triangles were fun.

It would have been an understatement to say that Merlin would come to disagree with that thought in the future. Love triangles hurt – burned like fire, froze like ice, and seemed to leave a sort of empty hollowness that resounded throughout a person's being. And it didn't only affect those in the love triangle, but also those on the sidelines picking up the pieces. Although sometimes he didn't feel like he was on the sidelines but rather underneath the triangle, trying to support all three of his friends at once while attempting to keep everything from falling apart.

Sometimes he thought it might have been easier if he didn't care equally for all of them. Gwen was his first friend in Camelot. Lancelot was the first and only person besides Gaius who knew of his magic and still completely accepted him. And Arthur, despite his prattishness, was his best friend and the one he owed his loyalty to. He would've accepted the role of trying to keep them all whole without question, but he hadn't been given the chance. It had been taken away from him when he and Arthur had gone to save Gwen.

Arthur had cracked and told him he was in love with Gwen (and delivering a threat at the same time. Honestly, did he think Merlin had some fervent desire to get Gwen banished? Did he really need to threaten him?). He'd seen Lancelot's feelings for Gwen and also Lancelot's reaction when he saw his prince had the same feelings. He'd had to lose Lancelot to his nobility, although he couldn't keep from being a little upset that Lancelot wouldn't tell Gwen himself. Merlin had had to give the news to Gwen, see her eyes well with confusion and tears, and not be able to say anything but what Lancelot had said. He'd had to walk alongside both of his friends' horses, endure the grief and longing on both of their faces as they came back to Camelot, wanting to say something to break the tension but not knowing the words.

With time and Merlin's prodding, Arthur seemed to get over his own fears of what courtship to Gwen would mean, and romantic feelings between Arthur and Gwen continued to grow. Even with all the obstacles in their way, involving an aged Merlin saving Gwen from the execution pyre, the love of legend continued to grow and strengthen.

And then Lancelot came back.

In a way, nothing and everything had changed. Lancelot still loved Gwen but wouldn't act on his feelings, Arthur both valued and was wary of Lancelot, and Gwen loved them both, although now in vastly different ways. And Merlin was still there – coaxing admissions out of Lancelot, listening sympathetically as Gwen confessed her guilt for causing both men pain, and reassuring Arthur that Gwen did love him. He bore the weight willingly, because he was their friend.

Lancelot's death made the weight even heavier. Arthur felt the guilt of another man dying in his place and the dismayed relief that Gwen valued his own safety above everything. Gwen felt relief that her love had returned and sorrow that a man had died to fulfill to her request. Merlin bore these, as both confided in him, as well as the frustration that he hadn't been able to save Lancelot from sacrificing himself in his place and the certain knowledge of Lancelot's unrequited love that he would take to his grave. It was not unlike the weight of his own lost love that had settled around him when Freya had died, but felt strange, foreign, and assumed, and so all the more heavy to bear.

But, Merlin thought to himself, as he pushed the flower-laden boat out into the middle of the lake, he would have willingly carried that weight for the rest of his life if it would have prevented this from happening. If only he had seen from the beginning that this shadow of Lancelot was just that – only a shade of his good friend. If only he had acted sooner. But he never would have expected this.

There was nothing he could have done – and that somehow was more painful than anything else. Gaius was right – as much as Arthur had wanted to kill Lancelot when he'd seen the two kissing, his real grievance was with Gwen and her betrayal. And while Merlin was suspicious of how quickly Gwen's desires were swayed, he had nothing to explain that change – not like the proof he had of the shade-Lancelot. So he could do nothing but watch.

He had tried to help Gwen pack, although he would infinitely have preferred locking her and her belongings firmly into the house to give him time to talk to Arthur. But she had made him leave, as though him standing near her just exposed him to some sort of infectious disease, a disease of ignominy and shame. Merlin had tried to protest, but then she turned to him head on, her voice pleading and her now dry eyes containing a sorrow far too poignant for any tears. He could not deny her. However, she could not make him leave entirely, and so he sat patiently and sadly outside of her home, waiting for her to appear. When she did, she looked in his direction for a moment and almost smiled but then quickly turned away as though she didn't deserve the comfort of his compassionate face after what she'd done. Gwen never allowed herself to look back as she laboriously pulled her cart through town, but Merlin stood resolutely watching her. He stayed in that same spot, watching her until she was so far away that he couldn't see her any longer and hoping that she would be safe. He also hoped that she would find the package he'd left her sooner rather than later.

Before Gwen had made him leave, he'd managed to tie one of his cleaner neckerchiefs to the handle of her sewing bag. The neckerchief had only contained a small slip of paper with a message for her.

Don't lose heart, and remember Ealdor.

Merlin hoped that she would take the hint and take refuge in Ealdor, where he knew she would be safe and his mother would look after her. But he doubted she would got there at first, suspecting she'd force a sort of exile on herself beyond Arthur's decree – an exile from any friendly face or kind word – because she was far from forgetting herself for what had happened.

It had been with a heavy heart, and her fear and shame slung onto his shoulders, that Merlin had finally turned and walked back up to the castle, resolutely ignoring the curious onlookers poking out of their homes as they watched him go by. He had to talk to Arthur.

It was just as painful as seeing Gwen closing off – seeing Arthur with his walls rising up around him, walls that had taken years of Merlin's friendship and teasing and Gwen's love to finally dismantle. Merlin's heart ached to see the pain Arthur was going through, but also ached at watching all the three had been through together fall into ignominy and nothingness. All the same, he couldn't give up on them – he would have to keep trying.

"See to it that he receives a proper burial."

As he watched the tiny boat bob closer to the center of the lake, Merlin thought bitterly that a proper burial was not something he could give – a burial, yes, a burial full of respect and a sincerely grieving mourner he could provide, but it wasn't the same as a proper burial. Not for Lancelot, not for the man who had given so much for the kingdom and those he cared about, the man who was denied peace even in the supposed sanctity of death. It was a small source of comfort that Merlin was able to remove Morgana's hold on Lancelot before he set the boat off into the lake. However, in a way it was almost worse – Lancelot had been aware of what was happening but couldn't do anything to stop it. Merlin could not deny that seeing Lancelot's grateful, free face brought a soothing balm to his aching soul, and he felt that, perhaps, that was the closest thing to a proper send-off his friend could receive. Freedom.

It wasn't fair. Merlin almost petulantly flopped onto the shore beside Lake of Avalon and watched as the flames licked over the sides of the boat. It wasn't fair on any of them.

Arthur and Gwen loved each other – still loved each other – and would have been happy together. Lancelot had already had to die once, but at least he had died as a knight, straight-backed, proud, and with honor. Who would remember his goodness, his greatness, now that his story would be tainted with an adultery and a shame that were not truly his?

"I will." Merlin promised himself and the spirit of the man who was finally free, his words quiet and barely heard over the gentle crackle of flames.

But he deserved more than that, much more. So did the other sides of the triangle, but it seemed to be late. Merlin picked up a stone and stared at it pensively for a few moments before finally releasing his own frustration by throwing it across the lake with a scream of anger.

The force of his arm combined with an unintentional spurt of magic made the stone fly across the lake striking a tree with such force it came out the other side, leaving a smoking hole in its wake. Merlin fell on his back, breathing heavily, getting his emotions under control. After enough minutes had passed to sufficiently calm him, he sat up and tried to think out what to do next.

It was unfair, it was cruel, there was nothing he could do to change that. But to simply give into his anger, or to do nothing but let the whole thing continue to fall apart, was something he could not do, would not allow himself to do. It would only disgrace his friend's memory and abandon his friends' dreams.

With a near-silent goodbye to his lost love, the young man stood, his posture straight-backed although he seemed to bear an enormous weight on his shoulders. He gave a respectful nod to the embers of his friend, which were seeping into the lake and then turned to go.

It was a heavy weight to bear, but he chose it willingly. He was going to make everything all right.

He had to.

A/N: I hope Merlin didn't seem out of character at the end by yelling. I personally believe he deserves to have a good jolt of anger every now and again. He has to deal with a lot of stuff!

Thanks for reading and please review! I like hearing what you think! It makes me happy!