The eternal suffering

DIR(9): Hierarchy

 (random art ahead.)

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"Merlin, wait!"
Arthur was running after Merlin. Unaware that he was followed by Merlin's grandmother Irene and Alantrope (the tiny dragon). To be fair, his mind was currently preoccupied.

Merlin was faster than he had anticipated. He had marched right back to the town, his anger flaring around him. Arthur had never seen Merlin angry.
Frustrated, yes. Annoyed? At Arthur's antics regularly. Grieving? Distant? All of that, absolutely. But never angry. Right now, Merlin was furious.

"Merlin, wait up!", Arthur shouted again, but Merlin suddenly started to sprint. Arthur cursed under his breath. He may be a skilled fighter and all that, but Merlin was faster and more agile than he was. Clumsier as well, needless to say. But fast.
Maybe Merlin's magic was supporting him in his stamina as well. How would Arthur know. It was definitely a possibility.
Now that he thought about it, the magic did explain a lot of odd talents that his servant randomly portrait sometimes.

Anyway, Arthur ran after him. Their distance wasn't as great as Arthur had feared. Maybe a part of Merlin wanted to be reached. Maybe, he wanted to be stopped.
Arthur was 90 % sure that Merlin let him catch up to him.
But when he finally did, he didn't act gently. To, let's say, turn Merlin around and talk to him, like a normal person would.
No. That was never Arthur's plan.
Instead, he jumped right at him and knocked Merlin to the ground with him. A startled yelp echoed over the grassy field. Startling Irene and the dragon that had followed her here.

For a moment, Arthur feared he had hurt Merlin, but the servant was fighting back with vigor.

"Get OFF me!", Merlin demanded angrily and he glared in Arthur direction, before shoving him away and struggling to get up himself.
But Arthur hadn't done this to let Merlin escape again. So, he pushed him down again, refusing to let Merlin leave.

The entire situation resulted in the two of them rolling around in the grass. Trying to cage each other or escape and run away. But as soon as Merlin managed to get up, Arthur would grab him by the leg and pull him to the ground once more.

Merlin growled and suddenly his shoving grew to be punches. They became stronger with each attempt. But Arthur was a warrior. He had been stabbed with swords and knifes and all kinds of weapons. He regularly fought in tournaments. Merlin's punches wouldn't even leave a bruise.
Despite the fact that Arthur could easily evade those punches, could easily grab Merlin by the arm and twist it in a way that would have the warlock surrender.
Arthur didn't.

He took in the punches like he deserved them. And never really punched back. He only shoved and pulled at Merlin, keeping him in reach, never letting him go. Forcing him to fight.

Because... well.
This was what all Arthur knew.

Arthur was horrible with all kinds of emotions. With hurt and sadness and grief and mourning. He was bad at talks. At asking questions and getting answers. He was horrible at prodding and prying and showing empathy. Showing that he cared. He knew, in the end, he would only feel guilty and then Merlin would have to comfort him instead and he knew that wouldn't help Merlin at all.
Maybe, if Merlin had been sad, Arthur would have reacted differently. Would have tried to do something else. Anything else, really.

But this.... this were emotions he was familiar with.

"Arthur, fuck you, let me go!", Merlin was fuming. Rage. Yes. Rage and fear were within Arthur's skill set. You defeated fear by confronting them.
But rage? You defeated rage by letting it all out. Merlin had taken the brunt of Arthur's rage many times. Had held the shield that Arthur was working on with an axe. Had hid behind targets, when Arthur used bows and arrows to pierce through them. Because anger comes, when you bottle up emotions.
And true.... letting them out won't solve your problems.