Merlin. fic. PG
Here's another of the NaNo bits, cleaned up a good deal, and sparked by a discussion about whether Merlin feels lonely in this odd life of his. I'm not sure that's exactly what this ended up being about, but it's part of it.
Title: In the Lick of the Firelight, Under the Gleam of the Moon
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Merlin, mentions of Gwaine and Arthur
Wordcount: 796
Summary: Merlin sits and thinks of Arthur. And his life. And what it all means. Set during “In the Eye of the Phoenix.” S3.E8.
Merlin sits and stares into the fire. Nearby Gwaine snores softly, wrapped in his cloak, boots close to the fire for warmth. In the distance an owl hoots as it flies overhead and the stream they had chosen to camp near trickles along, gurgling over its rocky shallows.
But Merlin, wrapped in his thoughts, hears none of these things. He sits, lost in his thoughts, pondering how his life had come to this. He knows that Arthur, when they find him, will be extremely displeased to see them. But there are some things more important than Arthur's pride, Arthur's life for one thing. Merlin had been surer of that than ever on the day he’d watched through that crack in the chapel doors, and saw Arthur, kneeling in prayer, the warmth of the sunlight turning his white robes golden and glorious. It had taken his breath away, and he suspected he would never be able to forget the sight of his Prince, his friend, his … other, if Kilgarrah was to be believed… bathed in a golden glow, head bowed, but back straight, radiating pride, and purpose, and dedicating himself to a quest for the love of a kingdom which would someday be his.
Sights like that were all very splendid, but when, he wondered, had his life had become something all about someone else? How had he ended up spending his days thinking "but Arthur believes..."; "but Arthur needs..."; "but Arthur wants...." Was it ever going to matter what Merlin wants? As a log snaps in the fire, and falls to pieces, sending sparks dancing up into the air, Merlin realizes that somewhere along the line, for good or ill, what he wants is the same as what Arthur wants. He laughs quietly to himself. He hadn't asked for any of this. Sure, he’d been hungry for a new life someplace bigger and more important than Ealdor. But that had been as far as his thoughts had taken him when he set out for Camelot, his mother's letter to Gaius tucked deeply into his carryall.
He feeds the fire, and wonders what it would have felt like to live a normal, simple life, a life where he has no knowledge of the feeling of magic flowing through his veins and tickling across his skin. He thinks of the nights he lies in his bed and longs for that simpler life. But here under the stars and the soft gleam of the moonlight, he knows that he would have found a life like that tedious. Adrenaline and magic feel very much the same to him now, and he's not sure when he came to the conclusion that he didn't want to live without feeling either one. But God help him, he doesn’t.
He pauses to question a life without Arthur. He decides there are too many answers to that question. Most days Arthur, the man, drives him around the bend and he does find himself wishing they'd never met. But Prince Arthur, heir to the throne of Camelot, in whose hands the destiny of the kingdom lies, that man Merlin would follow to the depths of hell. What proof of that did he need aside from the fact that here he was, gazing at the firelight as he and Gwaine made their way to the Perilous Lands to guard the life of that very Prince.
Merlin admits it feels somehow unfair that his destiny is bound up with this other man. Some days he'd like to be the one in charge of his own life, thank you very much. But mostly he figures that not only does he not have a choice (destiny is funny that way) but that somehow, being with Arthur makes Merlin a better man. He'd like the think the reverse is true and that somehow Arthur feels that way too. He does know, without question, that Arthur would die for Camelot, for any of its subjects, and it's not even his kingdom yet. And for all that Arthur’s future seems to be destined for greatness, Merlin isn’t sure he needs to know anything other than this.
He's not sure when Arthur became the person he would willingly lay down his life for. Sometimes he thinks he should never have gotten mixed up in this whole mess in the first place. But his life is what it is. He serves a man who serves his people. And somehow, as everyone keeps telling him in portentous tones, his life ... their lives... are intertwined.
So when Gwaine sits up, stretches, and then reaches out to pull Merlin into his arms, wrapping his still warm cloak around them both, Merlin closes his eyes contentedly, and knows that destiny or not, he’s on the right path.
This entry was originally posted at http://valancy-joy.dreamwidth.org/139786.html