Too Well Do I Know, My Friend
Title: Too Well Do I Know, My Friend
Characters: Lancelot, Merlin, implied Merlin/Arthur and Lancelot/Gwen
Rating: G
Spoilers: For episode 2x04, Lancelot and Guinivere
Summary: Merlin and Lancelot understand one another better than they think.
A/N: This is a tiny little snippet of a deleted scene that I wrote partially because I was unsatisfied with how easily Lancelot left and partially because I didn't want the Lancelot/Merlin bromance to end. It was just too fab. First Merlin fic I've written. New fandoms keep eating my face. Grah.
Excerpt:
"Protecting those you love is not always easy," Lancelot says. "Sometimes, you must do what you believe to be right, even if it means taking a decision out of their hands. Even if that decision is one that some would consider rightfully theirs to make."
Lancelot stares blindly into the trees, watching the light begin to filter through the leaves, tapping his sword nervously against the air. He hears Merlin's approach, and he glances up as the other man sits down next to him. Lancelot leans more heavily into the tree his shoulder is pressed against.
"Is it true... that Arthur came to rescue Gwen because Morgana begged him?" he asks.
Merlin remains silent, but his eyes speak volumes. Lancelot nods.
"He has feelings for her, doesn't he?"
"What about you," Merlin says, "do you have feelings for Gwen?"
"My feelings do not matter." His heart knows it for the lie it is even as he speaks it, so he follows it with truth. "I will not come between them."
Lancelot pauses. The decision is already made, but it still pains him to utter it.
"Tell Gwen...tell Gwen that she has changed me forever, but some things cannot be."
He lapses into silence again. When he finally looks at Merlin once more, the other man's face is etched in an expression of resigned acceptance, almost disappointment.
"Why not?" Merlin asks him, voice just above a whisper. "Why can't some things be? It's obvious she cares about you in return."
"It does not change the fact that I must go," Lancelot says.
"It should," Merlin retorts. "Shouldn't she at least get a say in this? Shouldn't you let her decide for herself?" His tone is accusatory now, eyes blazing.
His words might sway a man of lesser resolve. They still sear poisoned hope against Lancelot's chest. But his mind is made up.
"And what good would that do, Merlin?" Lancelot asks. "I have nothing to offer her, not even a stable income. I am simply a sword easily hired out for cheap entertainment. To protect her better interests, I must take myself out of the equation."
"That's not true," Merlin says. "You're running away. How are you protecting her by running from her? She should be allowed to choose her own path."
"I see," Lancelot says, narrowing his eyes. "Then you've told Arthur about your tricks, have you?"
Merlin jolts back as if Lancelot's slapped him. He is silent for a few tense beats.
"What... what does that have to do with anything?" Merlin finally asks.
"Protecting those you love is not always easy," Lancelot says. "Sometimes, you must do what you believe to be right, even if it means taking a decision out of their hands. Even if that decision is one that some would consider rightfully theirs to make."
This time, Lancelot's words are not meant to accuse or wound, but Merlin's eyes widen and his skin goes paler than it already is. The sorcerer's eyes briefly flick over to land upon the sleeping form of the prince, and Lancelot sees a sentiment reflected in that look that he had not expected. If his heart wasn't already breaking, he might find it in himself to feel sorrow for his friend. Lancelot's lips turn up in a rueful, commiserating smile.
"Before Gwen, I had lost my reason for being," Lancelot says. "She's given me that back, at least. I will strive to be worthy of it. Arthur is already the king I would serve. It seems only fitting that she should be the queen."
Merlin nods but remains silent. His brow is furrowed, and his gaze is fixed somewhere on the patch of ground in front of his feet. Lancelot pushes off of the tree, sheathes his sword, and claps a hand to Merlin's shoulder.
"I think of all people, you can understand why I must take this course of action," he says.
"...I get it," Merlin says. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
"The right thing is, sadly, often not an enjoyable thing to do," Lancelot says. "You and I... In some ways, our time may simply be yet to come. However, it is best if we put certain desires out of our minds."
"Lest they expose us for being the insane twats we obviously are," Merlin says with a half-smirk.
"Lest they cause us more heartache than is necessary," Lancelot corrects.
"You're a cheery one, aren't you?" Merlin asks dryly. It startles a short laugh out of Lancelot.
"Well, it's not been the happiest of years."
He steps forward and clasps Merlin's arm above the wrist. Merlin returns the gesture in kind.
"Until we meet again, Merlin," Lancelot says.
"Take care of yourself," Merlin says. His lips quirk wickedly, and he pulls Lancelot into a brief, undignified hug.
"And you as well," Lancelot says as he pulls back.
Merlin nods, eyes full of affection and camaraderie. Lancelot manages a tight smile before he turns to walk away.
He only darts one glance back toward the sleeping Guinivere before there is a curve in the path, and the trees obscure his view.
Characters: Lancelot, Merlin, implied Merlin/Arthur and Lancelot/Gwen
Rating: G
Spoilers: For episode 2x04, Lancelot and Guinivere
Summary: Merlin and Lancelot understand one another better than they think.
A/N: This is a tiny little snippet of a deleted scene that I wrote partially because I was unsatisfied with how easily Lancelot left and partially because I didn't want the Lancelot/Merlin bromance to end. It was just too fab. First Merlin fic I've written. New fandoms keep eating my face. Grah.
Excerpt:
"Protecting those you love is not always easy," Lancelot says. "Sometimes, you must do what you believe to be right, even if it means taking a decision out of their hands. Even if that decision is one that some would consider rightfully theirs to make."
Lancelot stares blindly into the trees, watching the light begin to filter through the leaves, tapping his sword nervously against the air. He hears Merlin's approach, and he glances up as the other man sits down next to him. Lancelot leans more heavily into the tree his shoulder is pressed against.
"Is it true... that Arthur came to rescue Gwen because Morgana begged him?" he asks.
Merlin remains silent, but his eyes speak volumes. Lancelot nods.
"He has feelings for her, doesn't he?"
"What about you," Merlin says, "do you have feelings for Gwen?"
"My feelings do not matter." His heart knows it for the lie it is even as he speaks it, so he follows it with truth. "I will not come between them."
Lancelot pauses. The decision is already made, but it still pains him to utter it.
"Tell Gwen...tell Gwen that she has changed me forever, but some things cannot be."
He lapses into silence again. When he finally looks at Merlin once more, the other man's face is etched in an expression of resigned acceptance, almost disappointment.
"Why not?" Merlin asks him, voice just above a whisper. "Why can't some things be? It's obvious she cares about you in return."
"It does not change the fact that I must go," Lancelot says.
"It should," Merlin retorts. "Shouldn't she at least get a say in this? Shouldn't you let her decide for herself?" His tone is accusatory now, eyes blazing.
His words might sway a man of lesser resolve. They still sear poisoned hope against Lancelot's chest. But his mind is made up.
"And what good would that do, Merlin?" Lancelot asks. "I have nothing to offer her, not even a stable income. I am simply a sword easily hired out for cheap entertainment. To protect her better interests, I must take myself out of the equation."
"That's not true," Merlin says. "You're running away. How are you protecting her by running from her? She should be allowed to choose her own path."
"I see," Lancelot says, narrowing his eyes. "Then you've told Arthur about your tricks, have you?"
Merlin jolts back as if Lancelot's slapped him. He is silent for a few tense beats.
"What... what does that have to do with anything?" Merlin finally asks.
"Protecting those you love is not always easy," Lancelot says. "Sometimes, you must do what you believe to be right, even if it means taking a decision out of their hands. Even if that decision is one that some would consider rightfully theirs to make."
This time, Lancelot's words are not meant to accuse or wound, but Merlin's eyes widen and his skin goes paler than it already is. The sorcerer's eyes briefly flick over to land upon the sleeping form of the prince, and Lancelot sees a sentiment reflected in that look that he had not expected. If his heart wasn't already breaking, he might find it in himself to feel sorrow for his friend. Lancelot's lips turn up in a rueful, commiserating smile.
"Before Gwen, I had lost my reason for being," Lancelot says. "She's given me that back, at least. I will strive to be worthy of it. Arthur is already the king I would serve. It seems only fitting that she should be the queen."
Merlin nods but remains silent. His brow is furrowed, and his gaze is fixed somewhere on the patch of ground in front of his feet. Lancelot pushes off of the tree, sheathes his sword, and claps a hand to Merlin's shoulder.
"I think of all people, you can understand why I must take this course of action," he says.
"...I get it," Merlin says. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
"The right thing is, sadly, often not an enjoyable thing to do," Lancelot says. "You and I... In some ways, our time may simply be yet to come. However, it is best if we put certain desires out of our minds."
"Lest they expose us for being the insane twats we obviously are," Merlin says with a half-smirk.
"Lest they cause us more heartache than is necessary," Lancelot corrects.
"You're a cheery one, aren't you?" Merlin asks dryly. It startles a short laugh out of Lancelot.
"Well, it's not been the happiest of years."
He steps forward and clasps Merlin's arm above the wrist. Merlin returns the gesture in kind.
"Until we meet again, Merlin," Lancelot says.
"Take care of yourself," Merlin says. His lips quirk wickedly, and he pulls Lancelot into a brief, undignified hug.
"And you as well," Lancelot says as he pulls back.
Merlin nods, eyes full of affection and camaraderie. Lancelot manages a tight smile before he turns to walk away.
He only darts one glance back toward the sleeping Guinivere before there is a curve in the path, and the trees obscure his view.