BRAVEST AND MOST NOBLE • merlot post

[northumbria]

brave warlock

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[northumbria]

Lancelot does his lazy best to hit Merlin back. He knows he's probably not going to get much but a touch to his friend's arm. Lancelot himself only turns his head so he can look into those blue eyes. The ones that shine bright gold and do amazing things. How anyone could hate him for a gift so beautiful he will never know.

"It's not the last time we'll see each other. At least I'll know where you are."

Can't be that bad! He will have to visit. He'd miss the sense of familiarity and peace that always comes with Merlin around.

[bravelyspoken]

"Will you visit?" He settles a little more comfortably onto his side, holding Lancelot's gaze in a mixture of hope and curiosity. "While I'm there, I mean. Will you come see me? I know it's a long way, but... I'll miss you. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I know you'll be great. Honestly, you'll be amazing at whatever you do. I just know it."

[northumbria]

Lancelot's own is ... He's not even sure. Part of him cannot wait for the adventure, the chance to finally become what he knows he should be. He should be a knight to be able to defend anyone that needs it.

But... Merlin's still got a lot of needed protecting. There's no denying Lancelot will miss everything from his terrible jokes to his perfect ability to get in trouble.

"I'll miss you too much not to visit you." Maybe they should focus on the positive instead. Merlin's got a lot of faith in him. Lancelot should return the favor. "What do you think you'll do when you get there? Not like you can farm anymore."

[bravelyspoken]

Merlin sighs at that and rolls under his back again, lips twitching ruefully.

"I don't know. Magic's the only thing I've ever been good at." He mulls it over a moment, watching the clouds. "I'll find something. Maybe I can do jobs Gaius until I do. He's the Court Physician there, he was friends with my mother once. A long time ago. She thinks he'll help me."

[northumbria]

"I hope so." The worry is impossible to hide. He wouldn't bother anyway. They don't really know who this Gaius is, if he'll help. But, no one could argue with Hunith. Wisest woman you could ever meet and Lancelot is all the more thankful for it.

"I'm.. sure it will be fine," he adds to convince himself and Merlin. "You're better at a lot more than you realize."

[bravelyspoken]

He snorts a that, turning to look sideways at Lancelot again.

"Like what?"

Merlin doesn't think eating a lot of food counts as an actual skill.

[northumbria]

Lancelot has to stare up at the sky long and hard.

And stare.

"You can..."

Most of it is just for show, but some of it was honest. Not that Lancelot could to any better. "Well you're not dead yet," he offers with a shrug and jutted out bottom lip.

Finally he turns to his friend, "At least you aren't trying to be a knight with no fighting skills. Besides rescuing you and Will.."

[bravelyspoken]

"I knew it," he groans dramatically, "I'm going to be useless. At least you know what you want to do -- you can learn to fight."

Merlin doesn't even know what he should start learning. He suspects he'd be a terrible physician. Panic and do something wrong.

[northumbria]

"You aren't useless," He reassures with what can only be a desperate plea of sincerity. "You'll find what you're good at in no time at all."

That's the thing about Merlin: he's clever. He's clumsy but he's capable of doing anything he tries. Maybe it's the magic working in a different way. Lancelot finally sits up to properly look at his friend and another wave of longing hits him.

"You'll be fine."

[bravelyspoken]

Merlin sighs and rolls over onto his stomach, picking at the grass miserably. He probably will be fine, he knows that really, but that doesn't mean he has to enjoy it.

"I wish I had your confidence. You always seem to just... know."

[northumbria]

Lancelot takes this opportunity to use Merlin as a bed by laying perpendicular to him on his back. Oh yes, much better than the ground this is.

"It's not really about knowing, at least for me. It's about deciding." He looks to his fr-- well, the back of his friend's head. "I do know about you."

[bravelyspoken]

"Oh?" Merlin prompts, half turning his head even though he can't quite turning enough to see Lancelot. "And what do you know about me, then? Other than the fact that I have no useful skills to speak of."

[northumbria]

Lancelot doesn't pause. The compliments, the sincerity, it all comes right out. It's not only to make Merlin feel better, it's to tell him something that Lancelot can't quite figure out what it is. He just knows it's important to say, so he will.

"I know that you're the kindest and smartest person I've ever met. I know you have a difficult time giving up. And I know you've got more power than... anyone."

Who needed a sword when you could have Merlin's magic? Sure, it wasn't much yet, but that glow was unmistakable. There is power there. A power that inspires hope in him, while others might cower in fear.

[bravelyspoken]

"Flatterer."

Merlin's tone is equal parts fond and chiding, pleased by the sweet words but slightly embarrassed all the same. At least Lancelot can keep his feet under him. How is it he's got so much good luck? Kind and handsome and coordinated and brave? Merlin finds this painfully unfair.

[northumbria]

"I don't think it counts as flattery if it's the truth."

At last, he moves himself off of Merlin. The day is only getting shorter. They have chores to finish up before planning and packing. Probably the last things they'll ever do in Ealdor. It makes moving from their hill that much harder. This might be the last time he ever sees those ridiculous ears.

What can he say that hasn't already been said? Eyes soften and don't trail too far from the best friend he's ever had.

"Merlin."

He should have planned past getting his attention...

[bravelyspoken]

"Mmmm?" He pushes up a little, blinks curiously at Lancelot -- then lets his expression dip into a frown. "Don't say goodbye. Please."

Merlin doesn't want it to be goodbye. Doesn't want to admit he might never see his friend again. Doesn't want to think about it right now, while they still have each other's company.

[northumbria]

Lancelot doesn't want it to be goodbye either. Goodbyes are too final. Goodbyes mean that you might not see each other no matter how badly you want it to be. He bites his bottom lip, eyes still wide with worry and heartache and-- everything.

"I won't say anything, so you'll have to see me again."

That works, right?

[bravelyspoken]

Merlin thinks about this, studying Lancelot's face, then nods. It makes sense, to him. No goodbyes.

"All right. Then you have to. Come see me, I mean. You can tell me everything you've been doing, everything I've missed, and I'll tell you all about Camelot."

[northumbria]

He holds up a scolding finger. "Don't leave until I find you." If he managed to miss Merlin... Well, he supposes his new quest would be to find him, wouldn't it? He can't imagine spending the rest of his life without seeing that ridiculous face ever again.

And, because he knows it's coming anyway, Lancelot holds his arms open for one final hug.

[bravelyspoken]

He hurls himself forward immediately, sprawling half on top of Lancelot and clinging on to him.

"I won't go anywhere, I promise. I'll wait until you come find me. As long as I need to."

[northumbria]

Lancelot almost falls over from Merlin rushing to him. Partially an exaggeration. He doesn't really care either way. Every part of him is telling him not to let go. "I promise I'll come find you."

And yet, part they must. Lancelot stays that way for as long as he can, but eventually they must. Their journeys cannot begin. They can't do what they're meant to do clinging to each other. It's a sad truth. Doesn't make it any less true.

At last, Lancelot pulls away and stands. There are no goodbyes. Only soft smiles and lingering promises. "Stay safe, Merlin." It's an honest partial warning.

[bravelyspoken]

"I will."


He tries, honestly he does. Yet trouble always finds Merlin. He invites it, even when he knows he shouldn't. He can't help making jokes that people don't like, can't bear to stand by and watch a person get hurt. Merlin couldn't explain why he saved Arthur, he only knows that Arthur -- whatever his other crimes -- had done nothing to deserve death right then. He knew that Valiant couldn't be allowed to win by cheating. He knew Nimueh couldn't be allowed to succeed.

He knew that if he had to drink the wine so Arthur would not, well, then he must.

At the very least, though, his life does have some idle points. He misses the quiet of Ealdor at times, with how rushed he is now -- helping Gaius, being manservant to Arthur, saving Camelot -- but simple tasks like picking mushrooms are at least a moment's respite. They were. Until just then.

Merlin startles at the sound of wing-beats, nearly trips backwards and barely rescues his basket of mushrooms as the griffin lands. He's never seen one before, why would he have? Never seen anything like it and he's at once terrified and in awe of it. It's magnificent.

It's also about to rip him apart unless he does something. Like run.

[northumbria]

Lancelot is not entirely sure how he is alive at this point. He's tried for several sword masters, defending those in bar fights, helping keep away thieves on journeys. He's honestly surprised he's got all of his limbs.

But now. Now that he's got some training, it's time to keep his promise. How long has it been since he last saw the best friend he's ever had? A small part of him swells thinking how proud Merlin will be. How proud he hopes Merlin will be. He's probably seen all sorts of fantastic things in the heart of one of the greatest cities. Everywhere talks of Camelot.

He's so very near to it, so ready for a rest.

There's a scream-- no, a screech. It's unlike any animal or man ever heard before. It sends a chill right down to him. There's a flash of red running followed by something infinitely larger aiming for it. He has to help. Merlin, you will just have to wait.

He drops everything but his sword, no armor to his name. It will have to do. As quick as he can, Lancelot jumps into action.

[bravelyspoken]

Merlin is scrambling through the forest by now, basket dropped in favour of running faster. He trips, back-pedals and is quite sure this is the part where his life flashes before his eyes --

and then it must be doing just that, because the person standing between him and the griffin looks so familiar. The utterly ridiculous person wearing not a shred of armour, waving a sword, and he barely manages to start to exclaim his name before he's being hauled to his feet and they're running --

He's always been lucky, but even Merlin can't believe this. Of all the people, of all the times to turn up.

He sits panting for air, waiting to see if the Griffin will wing back and spot them huddled against the log, but they've made it. Somehow, by some impossible means they've made it. He's alive, and Merlin turns to grin at his friend.

"You were almost late."

[northumbria]

Lancelot wastes no time. He does not hesitate for a second. If he and his sword are all that can stand between whatever this is and Merlin, he will defend.

That is, until his sword breaks. There's one very important thing he's learned in his short experience travelling: when to run. There is a difference between being brave and being stupid.

They jump behind a log and try to catch their breath as they watch the griffin soar overhead. It's only then that Lancelot realizes he's sustained a wound and his hand rests on it. He does offer a very weak smile to Merlin anyway. "Told you not... to get in trouble."

That little wound has taken more out of him than he knows. The travel right before didn't help he... he just needs to sleep for a while. Let himself catch up. He'll be fine if he closes his eyes, really...