Post by consultingwarlock on May 24, 2012 10:15:46 GMT -5
Merlin wasn't sure how long he'd been standing in the shallows of the lake, water lapping at his ankles. He didn't notice the sky growing darker, or the persistant rain that was falling softly all around him; he only had eyes for the boat that was slowly making its way towards the horizon, the magical fire inside a glowing beacon on the black water surrounding it. This fire he knew encompassed the body of the girl he had grown to love, a girl who he had promised to run away with. The most beautiful girl he had ever met, in both body and soul. Freya.
From the first moment he saw her in that loathesome steel cage, he knew he would help her, consequenses be damned. As soon as Gauis had uttered the words 'Uther offers a hansome reward for anyone with magic', he had pictured himself in her place, fear and desperation in his eyes. Which was why he had ignored Gaius' warning, and had broken the girl out of the cage, hiding her deep beneath Camelot's walls. He didn't realise as he was holding his hands over her chains and whispering 'Tospringe' that he would fall for her in a way he had never felt before. But now he would never be able to find a house by a lake, surrounded by mountains and rolling fields filled with wild flowers, with a few cows. And he couldn't help thinking that it was all his fault.
He couldn't blame Arthur. Arthur was only doing his duty and protecting Camelot from the threat he had perceived. He wasn't to know that the creature he had mortally wounded was a girl, or that the very same girl was one that his servant was in love with. He only saw the danger to his people, to Camelot. And Merlin would not, could not lay the blame on the Prince. If only he'd been there for her, if only he'd got there fast enough to stop Arthur's attack. He'd made a promise to look after her. And he had failed.
Forcing himself out of his thoughts, Merlin swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, mixing tears and rain together on the fabric. The boat was now no more than a dot on the horizon, the blood orange of the fire a contrast to the bruised purple of the darkening sky. A fleeting thought that he should make his way back to the city before the gates closed, or Gauis started to worry crossed his mind, and he moved for the first time in what felt like hours. Casting one last look at boat that held his love, Merlin waded from the water and onto the shore, making his way back to Camelot.
He barely registered anything on the way back, too numb to focus on his surroundings, trying too hard to keep his thoughts away from Freya so as to stop from breaking down in the middle of the forest. He probably wouldn't have noticed if bandits were to jump from the shadows, nor put up much of a fight if they did. His heart was broken, and for the time being, nothing else mattered. But luckily for Merlin, he reached the towering walls of Camelot without incident, and passed through the portcullis just as it was about to close. Not wanting to return to Gauis' chambers just yet, he slowly climbed the stairs that lead towards the castle, before stopping halfway and lowering himself to the stone below. Leaning back on his elbows he willed his mind to empty, looking towards the stars to distract himself. He had to try and regain some semblance of composure before he faced Gauis, faced anyone. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, listening to the sounds of Camelot preparing for the night. If he could just put on a facade long enough to get past anyone he might encounter, then when he got into the privacy of his own room, that was when he could let it fracture and break. But not just yet.
Setting: The Lake; later Camelot Courtyard
Time of Day: Evening
Timeline: During the end of The Lady of the Lake
Tag: Guinevère [/blockquote]
