A/N: Sorry about the long wait. I had shit to do. And a mega writers block.
Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Merlin. I just "borrow" them for a bit, knock them around and hand them right back, still mostly intact. Well..maybe not Gwaine...
"You can't be serious. Your man just sent him flying into a walk hours after another one of your men shot him in the leg. This goes against every rule of knights code. Even a man such as you must have honour, Lot. And mercy." Arthur pleaded.
But Lot stood unrelenting.
It got worse as Percival moved to help Gwaine stand.
One moment he was reaching out his hand, Gwaine was grasping it and he was tensing his legs in preparation, and the next there was a grey blur, a glint of metal and Gwaine's soft yelp of pain.
"Unassisted I said. Next time, it won't be on the arm." Lot reprimanded, his eyes hard, his gaze threatening and his mouth curled in a slight smile of amusement.
Gwaine took a few deep breaths, pushing the pain of the 4 inch long cut on his right forearm to the back of his mind, where painful memories, old aches, nightmares and a life before the alcohol, before the girls, before the loneliness, before the cracks in his mirror started to appear, lurked.
When Gwaine was born, he was born with a mirror inside. There is a mirror inside every one of us. And when Gwaine was born, his mirror was smooth. Flawless. But every time he ever felt alone, ever was upset, ever lost his temper, a tiny crack in that mirror appeared. Too small to see with the naked eye. The worse the insult, the event, the thing, the bigger the crack in the over time, those many tiny cracks form to make one bigger crack. And this crack you can see. Those who loose it, those forgotten souls with the empty eyes: their mirror shattered along ago. But with people like Gwaine, the cracks have been painted over. Repaired. The shards pieced back together. Gwaine's mirror is very cracked. And although every day he spends as a knight of Camelot repairs his mirror just that little bit more, you will all ways be able to see the cracks. Once a mirror is broken, once that smooth surface splits, you will always be able to see it, no matter how well you put it back together.
That is what is kept in the darkened corner of Gwaine's mind. And now, he is just adding to the hurt.
The breaths helped. Gwaine manages to haul himself to his feet, swaying slightly. He slowly but surely makes his way over to Lot, takes the tray off the servant and looks Lot in the eye.
Huh. Lot didn't think he could do it. Of course he didn't. And so Gwaine stands there, food tray firmly clutched in one hand, looking at Lot with fire in his eyes and freedom in his soul.
"Thank you, for your consideration." Gwaine spits.
Lot turns and looks away, trying to hide the defeat from his eyes. But there is also a challenge. Just how much would it take to break a man like Gwaine?
Lot didn't know, but he thought that it would be fun finding out.
A/N: Please please please review.