Hello! Here's another shot. :) I've seen many fics tagging episodes 4x01 and 4x02, but I've yet to find one from Lancelot's perspective, and as I watched those episodes again the other night, I was visited by the plot bunny again. *grin* I don't 'know' Lancelot as well as Arthur and Merlin, so I'm not sure how well I've managed to write him, but I at least hope I've done some small credit to him.
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this collection so far - you are all so AWESOME! *hugs*
There are times when horrifying, nightmarish things come to pass, when you might feel utterly helpless, and are gripped with a terror so strong that your feet become rooted to the earth. Not everyone is unlucky enough to experience times like these, but those who are unfortunate enough to do so, often recall the strange sensation of reliving all of their past in mere seconds; of seeing things that they had perhaps not seen before, and of a blinding sense of understanding suddenly filling their minds.
It is also said that, after going through such an experience, many people are forever changed; sometimes for the worse, if they allow fear and regret to guide them, and sometimes for the better, if they choose to take their regrets and turn them around.
Lancelot had already lived through such a time, after having witnessed his family and friends being slaughtered before his innocent young eyes. But even though he'd been little more than a boy, he'd chosen the second path; he'd chosen not to dwell on the bad, but to focus on a future that, if he worked hard enough, would be both fruitful and rewarding. For while the young man had been crushed with grief, and riddled with remorse for not fighting strongly enough for his family, he'd recognised that the strength of a young man – no matter how noble his intentions – was not enough to take down an army of murderers who were so intent on killing all who stood in their path. He simply wasn't strong enough.
But one day he could be. All he had to do was work hard, and train harder; then one day – if he was fortunate enough – he would be able to join the ranks of the famous Knights of Camelot; the knights that had been a legend in his small village. The knights that were renowned for strength, nobility, and fearlessness; all qualities that the young Lancelot wished he'd had when his family and village was being attacked.
So Lancelot made a choice; he made a choice not to wallow in grief and despair, but to live his life with the strength, nobleness and bravery that he had always aspired to have. To live a life that would make his family proud; and to live a life that would seek to eradicate the evil that had stolen his family from him.
He made a choice. He hadn't been strong enough to save innocent lives on that terrible day that took his youth away, but one day... one day he would be.
oo0oo
Lancelot had always thought that experiencing the feeling of past memories flickering through his mind was something that would never happen to him again. All the tales he had heard over the years of the same phenomena happening to others all had a common theme; every single person had either been in mortal peril, or had witnessed something so traumatising that their innermost fears had rushed to their minds unbidden.
After the horrors of his youth, the knight had – perfectly reasonably – assumed that this was an event that would never repeat itself.
He'd been wrong. The scene unfolding before him was every bit as horrific as the scene from so long ago, only this time it wasn't only the friends he could see that were in danger, but the entire kingdom of Camelot. In fact, it was altogether possible that the whole of the world was in peril.
Such was the evil of the Dorocha.
And such was the evil – which was somehow more terrifying than the Dorocha themselves – of the woman who stood before them. And the woman – the Cailleach – was evil; even without taking into consideration the ghost-like face, and the deep wells of nothingness that were her eyes, the wrongness that radiated from her was enough to make the sturdiest of knights shudder.
And there was the inescapable truth that though the – thing – before them was capable of calling back the Dorocha with a mere flick of her hand, she chose instead to inflict the icy abominations on the world, and leave them to their death and destruction.
Oh yes, she was evil. And as this realisation washed over Lancelot like a bucket of ice, he once again found himself visiting past memories, which were somehow over in the blink of an eye, yet slow enough at the same time to pick out things that hadn't quite seeped into his consciousness the first time. And even as he watched the scene in front of him unfold, he was visited with flashes from his past...
"It's not often we have visitors," said the Cailleach.
Lancelot entering Camelot, intending it to be merely a short respite in order to heal from his wounds, but choosing to stay when Merlin had arranged a try-out for him for the longed-for position of Knight... Lancelot caught in a lie not of his making, but unwilling to let go of the chance he had of fulfilling his dream... Lancelot getting caught out in the lie, and being thrown in jail... Lancelot, breaking out of that jail, and joining the quest to kill the griffin.
Lancelot, feeling pride at his success, and then coming back down to earth as he'd realised that it wasn't his strength that had killed the beast, but the whispered words of his newest friend. A friend that he knew he would never be able to betray...
"Put an end to this. I demand you heal the tear between the two worlds," said the Prince, standing tall and fearless in front of the evilness before him.
"It was not I who created this horror. Why should it be I that stops it?" was the cold reply.
"Because innocent people are dying."
Innocent people dying... because Morgana and her despicable sister had used the Cup of Life for the foulest of purposes... Arthur creating the first meeting of the reformed Round Table, asking for fealty that was freely given, and not coerced. Arthur jokingly informing Merlin that he didn't have a choice, and Lancelot being struck by the idea that the Prince didn't know how painfully true his teasing words actually were...
And Merlin, who would have chosen what was right and true even without the pull of his destiny... Merlin fearlessly facing not one, but two twisted sorceresses bent on revenge... Merlin thrown by a powerful spell with enough force to fell a lesser man, yet still refusing to give in, and saving his friends anyway...
The Cailleach made a derisive comment, and let loose a laugh that was as far away from humour that it could possibly get, and even as Gwaine reacted to the pure evil of the creature before them, the Cailleach unleashed her spite and hurled the impetuous knight through the air.
"Is this the best you can do?" she taunted.
"I know what you want," said the Prince.
"Do you? And are you willing to let me have it?"
"I'm prepared to pay whatever price is necessary."
Lancelot, Merlin, and the terrifying presence of The Great Dragon...
"Arthur intends to sacrifice himself to heal the veil. It is my destiny to protect him; you taught me that."
"Merlin, you must not do this."
"Then I have no choice. I must take his place."
The Cailleach beckoned the Prince towards her, her lips twisted into a mocking smile of triumph. Arthur was walking towards her purposefully; walking towards his death...
"Forb fleoghe."
The Prince was stopped in his path, and forcibly pulled back, lurching into the air and landing close to the unconscious form of Gwaine. Lancelot turned slightly, and met the frightened, yet resolute gaze of his friend.
"When we get to the Isle of the Blessed, do you really intend to sacrifice yourself?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I look at you, and I wonder about myself. Would I knowingly give up my life for something?"
"You have to have a reason. Something you care about. Something that's more important than anything."
"So, Emrys, you choose to challenge me after all. Will you give yourself to the spirits to save your prince?"
Choices... choices... it was all about choices...
"It is my destiny."
Destiny... and choices. Lancelot choosing to go forth and fight for a better future; Lancelot, choosing to forsake his chance of becoming the knight of his dreams, unwilling to take the position that he felt he hadn't earned; Lancelot choosing to keep his friend's magic a secret, and vowing to himself that he would protect the young sorcerer, the man who protected all those that he loved, but yet had no-one to protect him...
Destiny and choices. Merlin had a destiny, and Merlin had made the decision to embrace that destiny, choosing to willingly give his life for something that he believed in.
Lancelot didn't have a destiny, but he did have a choice. And as he watched his brave young friend – the selfless, innocent, and incredibly noble Merlin – face the utter evil that was the Cailleach, Lancelot realised that he too had something that he was willing to give up his life for.
Merlin, lying broken and still, but inspiring feelings of awe as he glowed gently under the moonlight, the sorcerer's almost ethereal presence filling Lancelot with peace.
"The young warlock has great power, and a future that has been written since the dawn of time."
It wasn't Gwen that he was willing to die for, though he knew his love for her would never leave him. And it wasn't Arthur, who he was fiercely loyal to, and proud to serve.
It was Merlin. He was willing to give up his life for Merlin, for Merlin had the purest of hearts, and was so very important to the future that was promising to be so bright. It was Merlin, who was so inherently good, that it was unthinkable that he should lose his life to something that was so thoroughly evil.
So Lancelot made a choice, and in doing so, he realised that his entire life had been a series of decisions that had been leading right to this moment in time. He realised that it didn't matter whether he had a destiny or not, and it didn't matter that he would not be around to see that promised future that he was so sure Merlin would help come to pass.
It didn't matter, so long as Merlin was able to accomplish his goal; and for the young sorcerer to do this, he needed to live.
And so Lancelot needed to die. It was really rather simple when it came to it, and Lancelot knew that he'd chosen correctly even as he walked softly towards the veil; soft enough not to alert his brave friend, who would no doubt try to stop him...
But not softly enough to avoid the cold eyes of the Cailleach.
"Perhaps. But your time among men is not yet over, Emrys, even if you want it to be."
Lancelot was but a footstep away from the veil, but he turned to look over his shoulder, knowing he had no time to say anything, yet unwilling to leave his life behind him without somehow trying to reassure the young man who would no doubt grieve deeply over the knight's decision.
And he smiled; not a smile that filled his face, but a quirking of the lips that somehow conveyed his last thoughts.
I understand now, Merlin. I understand what it means to believe in something so strongly, that it is worth dying for. I believe in you.
Merlin gazed back at him, shock and pain filling his features, and Lancelot allowed his smile to reach his eyes before turning back to the veil, and proudly walking through it...