Greetings Readers! Here is the next oneshot!
This was inspired by a suggestion from Xylie. Thanks! So here it is!
Warning: Season 4 spoilers, hurt/comfort/friendship
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, or any of its characters.
Five days after Merlin revealed his magic, there was a funeral.
The sun was just dipping below the horizon as the funeral began. The king was near the front, his face displaying a mix of grief and guilt that he was attempting to cover with an impassive façade. The queen followed closely behind, her eyes welling slightly with tears and she passed her sleeve across her eyes several times as they walked. A crowd of peasants and guards led by the knights followed a respectful distance behind, most holding unlit candles.
Arthur looked ahead at the figure slowly but smoothly navigating through the brush, and called out, "Merlin, are we almost there?"
"Nearly," Merlin called back without slackening his pace, using his staff to break apart underlying brush and steady his steps. It was a strange feeling that filled the warlock as he led the crowd to the burial site, a feeling that was so enveloping that he was only just aware of the crowd behind him. It was the feeling of regret and sorrow that normally permeated a funeral, but it intermingled with a poignant joy and an overwhelming relief in finally seeing justice done.
Merlin finally came to a stop in front of the overhanging branches of a tree. He grabbed the ends of the branches and pulled them to the side, revealing the burial site. Arthur nearly stopped in his tracks with a sharp intake of breath at the familiar place, and he could hear some of his closest knights doing the same as they recognized the area, but the rest of the group issued past them through the gap Merlin had created.
Arthur, holding Gwen's hand tightly, followed his subjects through the gap, the knights flanking them both, although in brotherly solidarity rather than for their protection. Merlin stepped behind them and let the branches fall back into their place before joining them.
Arthur stepped to the shores of the lake before turning and facing the people. He took a deep breath and looked at Gwen, the knights, and Merlin. The queen blinked back tears and smiled, the knights stood tall and looked at him with fidelity, and Merlin gave him a small, encouraging nod.
"We are here," Arthur began, "to honor the passing of Sir Lancelot of Camelot."
Merlin blinked back a tear and smiled. It looks like third time's the charm, my friend.
It was certainly a strange thing to have a third funeral for a man, but then most thought it strange that a powerful warlock had not only been among them for years but was also the king's clumsy manservant, so it seemed Camelot was on a roll with strange occurrences.
And it was the noble thing to do, given all that had come out after Merlin had discovered the cursed bracelet the shade-Lancelot had given to Gwen. It had been on the fourthday after his magic had been revealed, and he'd grown rather bored with being stuck in the dungeons for three days. So bored that he started rearranging what little was provided in the cells just for something to do. It had been a relatively mindless task and he hadn't been putting a whole lot of attention to what he was doing until his hand grazed the bracelet. Then he had reeled back at the unexpected jolt of magic that had a bitter and painfully familiar feel to it. Merlin had pulled back the wilting hay to see the oddly shiny metal of the bracelet. He had picked it up, and with just one touch, discovered what magic it was and who had cast it. Morgana, he mentally hissed.
Merlin had just been debating the merits of simply blasting the cell door open and telling Arthur about what had happened or just staying put until the prat saw fit to let him out when Arthur showed up, with a look as close to being apologetic as he ever would have without someone actually dying.
It wasn't as though Arthur had particularly wanted to throw his manservant and closest friend in the dungeon – but sorcery was technically still against the law when the magic had been revealed, and he had been so shocked that he hadn't been sure what to do. So he fell back on tradition.
And right after Merlin had been escorted away – and he really had been escorted there, none of the guards seemed to want to roughhandle him out of respect or fear or both – Arthur had gone to Gaius.
He had received an earful (as had the knights of the round table and Gwen who had unceremoniously burst into Gaius' chambers upon hearing Merlin was in the dungeons). He heard stories that made him want to strangle Merlin and a lot more that made him want to hug and thank his friend. But he'd known that Gaius was not the best person to hear Merlin's story from – that would be Merlin himself.
When he went down to the dungeons in the early morning of the second day, he was down there for a long time. There was a lot of yelling, apologizing, and arguing from both sides – and at the end of the conversation Arthur rushed upstairs, determined to abolish the laws banning sorcery.
Unfortunately, he was in such haste that he forgot to mention that detail to Merlin.
By the time he'd realized that, at about noon on the third day, he'd grinned a bit mischievously to himself in the middle of the council meeting. Serves him right for lying to me, he smirked to himself, he'll be out soon enough.
One thing Arthur had not taken into account, however, was that his wife and knights, not being a part of the council, were aware of just as much of the proceedings as Merlin. And they had come to a very different conclusion than their magical friend, who seemed oddly relaxed for a man in the cells.
Merlin, unlike his friends who were coming down to the cells with increasingly ridiculous methods of escaping, knew after two days had passed that Arthur was just being forgetful or a prat or both. Arthur was a good man, when he didn't let anger rule his head. And since he hadn't snapped and ordered Merlin to be executed or banished the first day he'd found out, Merlin knew that he wasn't being ruled by anger. And so he was safe. That didn't mean he had to tell the others that, and he got a certain malicious glee in hearing them attack Arthur. Payback, you prat.
Arthur had originally planned for some regal yet apologetic words when he let Merlin out early the fourth day, but the effect he'd been trying for was more or less ruined by Merlin brandishing a strange bracelet at him. "This is what did it!"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I'd say that the cells have rotted your brain," he remarked lightly as he grabbed the keys form the guard and unlocking the cell door, "but that would require you having a brain."
Gwen, who had followed Arthur down to the cells to see her friend released, blanched and recoiled when she saw the bracelet, the guilt of painful memories flitting across her face.
Both men noticed, and Merlin quickly walked up to her and held her wrist reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault, Gwen," he said, holding the bracelet where she could see it. "It was all this – it was Morgana's doing." He looked her in the eye. "It was never your fault."
Upon hearing the story, Arthur was besieged with anger for his treacherous half-sister and guilt for how he treated Gwen and Lancelot. Gwen was able to forgive him, for which he thanked her with a kiss that made Merlin roll his eyes, but there was little he could do to beg Lancelot's forgiveness. Merlin had promised, with grieving eyes, that Lancelot had seemed at peace when Merlin had freed him from Morgana's spell, but that wasn't enough. Arthur felt he owed more to the man he had allowed to be degraded throughout the kingdom, when in reality he had been one of the most noble men he'd ever met.
"Sir Lancelot," Arthur continued, "was a man of honor – an example to us all. He had done great good for the kingdom. He helped defeat Morgana without thought of reward. He sacrificed his life to save mine and hundreds more from the Dorocha. He deserved every rite of dignity bestowed upon his burial place. But Morgana –" Here Arthur struggled to keep from gritting his teeth, "took that peace from him and defamed his honor by using him to disrupt the kingdom. When he was finally freed from his spell, an undeserved ignominy covered his honor, and only a single friend was present to mourn him."
The knights and Gwen turned to look at Merlin, whose face seemed to be convulsed with past memories.
"I cannot take this grief from him," Arthur said, "it is too late for that. But we can take the time to honor his sacrifice and to remember his great virtue and the good man he truly was." Arthur knelt down on the ground and took the unlit candle from his cloak pocket before setting it adrift on the smooth water. In a quiet stream, the rest of the mourners placed the candles upon the water and watched the drift to the center of the lake. Once the last mourner had backed away from the shore to watch his candle join the others, Arthur beckoned Merlin forward.
The crowd watched with some fear but mostly interest as Merlin strode forward. He paused a moment before raising one arm and sweeping it across the lake as his eyes glowed gold. As one, the candles all became lit with blue and silver flames, casting entire lake with a beautiful, ethereal glow. Several children oohed in appreciation before being shushed by their parents.
Arthur unsheathed his sword and held it high. "To Lancelot." The entire crowd repeated as one.
"To Lancelot!"
~.~
Merlin continued to watch the flickering flames long after the crowd had returned to their homes. Even the knights had gone, escorting a tired Gwen, at Arthur's request, back to their bedchamber. He heard a rustle of a cloak beside him but didn't turn from his gaze over the lake to look at Arthur as he sat beside him.
"Why here?" Arthur asked. "I know this place is important to you." Even before he'd known of the magic, he'd stumbled upon the truth about Freya.
"Maybe that's why I chose it,' Merlin smiled somberly, "There wasn't a potter's field that would have him, and I knew he would be safe here." His smile broadened and became a little lovesick. "Besides, Freya could look after him here."
Arthur took a deep breath. "For what it's worth, Merlin, I'm sorry. About Freya, about you having to bury Lancelot alone." The young king folded his hands and rested his chin pensively on them. "Do you think he knows about this?"
Merlin nodded. "I'm sure of it."
"He knows. And he is very grateful to both of you."
Both men looked down to the surface of the lake, where the face and figure of a young beautiful woman lay shimmering in the moonlight. "Freya!" Merlin exclaimed.
Arthur made an effort to back up a little to give the two some semblance of privacy, but he was far too curious about the girl to leave.
"Hello, Merlin," she smiled gently, "It's so good to see you."
"And I you," Merlin whispered almost reverently. "What has brought you here?"
She laughed lightly. "I am always here – you know that. I just came to tell you and Arthur that Lancelot knows of what you have done for him. He's at peace. He is happy." She shook her head. "And of course, blames himself partly for all that happened." She shot a playful glance at Merlin. "Are all men like that, or just the ones that you know?"
Arthur started, and Freya smiled at him. "I mean you too. I bear you no ill will for what happened – you were only defending your home from a monster."
"Freya…" Merlin said affectionately but disapprovingly. "You are not a monster. You are…you." He leaned down and brushed the watery line of her cheek. "You are the woman I love."
Freya smiled. "I know. I love you, too." Her outline became more wavy and she frowned. "I cannot stay much longer. I only wished you both to know what Lancelot had said. And," she looked with a sad smile at Merlin, "to see you again."
"I wish you didn't have to go."
"I'll be back, I promise you, Merlin." She laughed as she faded away. "And I always keep my promises."
Her form disappeared entirely into the light lapping of waves of the lake. And if the lake was disturbed by a few drops of salt water as Merlin leaned over the surface, Arthur didn't say anything.
Merlin sat back, and Arthur put a hand on his shoulder for a few moments before looking out over the lake himself. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
The two friends sat there together into the night and the early hours of the morning, paying tribute to those they had lost.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed - got some much needed bromance into the mix this time. Hooray!
To be honest, it always bothered me that no one ever found that bracelet and discovered Gwen was as guiltless as Lancelot in Morgana's scheme. Do they not clean those cells ever? lol
I'm also curious...given the description of this chapter and the first two paragraphs, was the fact that the funeral was for Lancelot a surprise?
Thanks for reading, and please review! They make me happy, and I like to know what you think!