A/N Hello! I have returned! I'm not dead, but life has been tricky, and like with the King and the Sorcerer(ess?), I've had this chapter written for a while, just haven't had the mental capacity to upload it. Anyway, I'm really proud of this chapter, in particular, I really love Lancelot, and his parts...
Thanks for reading!

Rowan found Bartel on the battlements overlooking Camelot. He was leaning on the stone wall, cloak shifting slightly in the light breeze.

Internally, Rowan shivered slightly, taking a deep breath as she steadied the thumping of his heart beat. It was just Bartel. There was nothing scary about the man, except for the fact that he seemed to be in league with one of the most feared groups in the kingdom.

Yep. Nothing scary about that at all.

Stealing his courage, Rowan approached.

"The stars are bright tonight," he commented, wincing internally. Rowan had never been one for small talk, and even to him he knew that he sounded awkward, and maybe even a little suspicious.

"I know why you're here," Bartel replied, straightening from his previous position, leaning against the balustrade, but still looking out over the city.

Alarm bells rung in Rowan's mind, his body screaming at him to run. Something wasn't right.

"Y-you do?"

"Yes," Bartel's voice was soft, and yet there was a power behind those words, deep and unnerving. "You wish to help in the siege of Camelot. Either that, or you wish to stop my master's plans." Bartel finally turned to study Rowan, his demeanour calm and cold, calculating. "Only one of those options will let you live to see another night. The other one… well I've heard tell that some of these stones are quite loose. You may take quite the tumble."

Rowan squared his shoulders, looking Bartel directly in the eye, forcing any nervousness he felt, any uncertainty which may unmask him, down.

"Tell me the plan," he replied, the lie slipping from his lips before he could take a second to talk himself out of it.

A cold smile crossed Bartel's face, not quite reaching his eyes, a cruel glint appearing within their depths.

"Follow me."

At first, Lancelot mistook the knocking on his door as coming from the pounding in his head which was already making its presence known.

He groaned slightly, rolling out of bed, shivering as his feet touched the cold stone floor, stumbling over to unlatch the door.

Before he could react, Merlin burst through, pushing Lancelot back into the room, shutting and latching the door with barely a glance, his eyes glowing in the dark.

For a second, the two friends stood there, shivering in the dark, and although Lancelot's head was pounding, and he still felt like he was about to throw up, something about the entire situation sobered him completely.

"Merlin?" his voice felt raspy in his throat, and he knew that he would definitely be getting some of Gaius' hangover tonic in the morning.

Merlin collapsed on the bed, his face pale in the moonlight shining through the window, his shoulders slumped.

"Gwaine… he knows."

The words took a second to register completely in Lancelot's head, and then the significance rammed into him.

It wasn't possible, was it? Oh no, it wasn't his fault, surely? Maybe he did something, said something-

"S'not your fault," Merlin continued. "It was mine… I- I didn't have a choice! If I hadn't… then both of us would be dead."

Lancelot winced as Merlin's voice rose in pitch, piercing his throbbing skull. He stumbled a little to sit next to Merlin on the bed, wrapping a comforting arm around his friend.

"How did it happen?"

Silence reigned in the room as Merlin seemed to gather his thoughts, almost leaning unconsciously into Lancelot's touch, pressing his head into the crook of Lancelot's neck, sniffling.

There wasn't much more Lancelot could do than offer this comfort to his friend, and wait for Merlin to tell him what had happened.

With a deep breath, Merlin pulled away, wiping away the tears on his face, rolling his shoulder. He clasped his hands in his lap, staring down at them blankly.

"I ran into Gwaine on my way back from Balinor's lesson," he began slowly, focussed entirely on his fidgeting hands. "Something in one of the chambers had scared him… so I went to go check it out. I probably shouldn't have, but it was like something was pulling me towards… whatever it was. A trap. I had to use my magic and Gwa- Gwaine… he- he saw…"

Merlin's shoulders started to shake, and Lancelot gripped him tighter in an effort to quell the anger which was threatening to spill over.

Only common sense stopped him from marching straight to Gwaine's chambers then and there.

"He didn't take it well," Merlin finished quietly, not looking at Lancelot.

Lancelot took a breath to compose himself, his own body beginning to shake slightly with fury.

"Is there anything I could do?" he whispered, voice shaking slightly. "I could talk to him for you, if you wan-"

"No."

"Merlin, are you su-"

"No," Merlin repeated, finally looking at Lancelot, his gaze piercing and unwavering, tension showing in the way he held his jaw, locked in position, shoulders raised slightly.

Nothing moved in the silence, and then Merlin sighed, slumping back into his previous position, eyes once more locked onto his hands.

"Why?" Lancelot asked, pressing his body against his friend's in comfort. "I could tell him that you're good, that you're still yo-"

"Lancelot," Merlin interrupted admonishingly, shaking his head slightly, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "No. I couldn't- if…"

He trailed off, taking a deep breath, before beginning again.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Merlin whispered into the silence, the darkness of the night shrouding them, lit only by the moonlight. "If Gwaine… if Gwaine tells Arthur, I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I just… not yet, alright? I think… if nothing happens over the next couple of days, if Gwaine keeps quiet, I'll talk to him."

"And if he does tell Arthur?" Lancelot responded, the anger draining away, replaced with a blinding fear for his friend, clutching at his chest, making it hard to breathe. "Do you really expect me to stand down? Not to try and advocate for you?"

Merlin was shaking his head before Lancelot was finished.

"If Gwaine tells Arthur, you have to stand dow-"

"Merlin," Lancelot stood up abruptly, so he could properly face Merlin, his friend following his suit. "I can't. Do not ask that of me. You are my friend… and you are a good person, it does not matter if you have magic or not, and if Arthur or Gwaine or anyone within Camelot cannot see you, then did they really deserve your friendship to begin with? Merlin. You are amazing, clever, witty. You've done so much for Camelot, and you're telling me, you're telling me that if Gwaine tells Arthur, and Arthur decides to punish you for something you cannot control, for something you have used only for the protection of Camelot, despite the laws, that I have to stand down? That I cannot stand in front of my friend, and tell them that they're all wrong? That I cannot do at least one thing to protect my friend, who has protected so many? You put your life on the line every single day that you live in Camelot, and yet you will not let me put my own life on the line to protect my friend?"

Lancelot's chest shook, as he forced himself to take deep breaths in and out.

"No, Merlin," he continued. "I will not do that. I just wish you would only realise that your life means so much more, and that people care about you for you, rather than how you can serve or protect them. Promise me that you won't let yourself die because Arthur decrees it. Don't die for something absolutely stupid."

Lancelot's body was shaking, and he was aware of the tears steadily making trails on his face, could taste the saltiness on his lips. All he wanted was Merlin to understand just how much he meant to him. How much he wished his friend wouldn't degrade himself.

Merlin opened his mouth, looking absolutely flabbergasted, staring at Lancelot in shock. Lancelot wished there was light so he could see truly what was going through his best friend's eyes, but there was none, so he stood silently for a few more moments, taking the time to calm his racing thoughts, before continuing in a quiet voice.

"You're my best friend, Merlin," he whispered, gripping Merlin's shoulder, before pulling him into a tight hug. "You've been on your own for so long, that you've forgotten what it is to have help. Let me support you. Let me be there for you, when no one else can. I may not understand what it's like to have magic, nor will I ever, but it's going to take a lot more than Arthur or Gwaine to keep me from your side. Let me protect the protector."

In this moment, Lancelot knew that there was nothing more he could do. He had always told Merlin that he would support him, but until this moment, Lancelot didn't think Merlin believed it.

So many people had promised Merlin things which had never happened.

Lancelot wasn't going to be one of those people.