Arthur has an unbelievably compassionate heart.
It's to the point that his compassion for others pushes them into impossible situations that never otherwise happen.
The real problem is for Arthur to understand that compassion can also show strength. Gwen knows this well and can see where his problems lie: When looking directly at his actions, and not moving through them, Arthur begins to stumble.
He could have killed Caerleon. Very quickly, that situation could have been immensely difficult if they hadn't sent word to queen Annis, his wife, about the foreign king's wrongdoings. Once a message had come back, all they had to do was wait.
Five pensive days pass and Annis arrives by horse and guard. She stays overnight, feasts with Arthur, and leaves with her husband– still in chains. Caerleon just spits at Arthur's feet.
Five days since they had received the message is when they arrive, meaning Annis takes her time traveling to pick up the horrid man she married.
There was something gutting about his prideful exit from Camelot. With a patched face, arching from his nose to cheek, and a sneer, he left with the royal guard.
Gwen thinks that Caerleon's punishment thus far has been a slap on the wrist compared to whatever Annis could do. Just one look and one evening in her presence remind her that yes, women are scary.
It's reassuring, really.
Arthur took one step into looking at compassion as what it is: strength and kindness tied together. Gwen hopes she is strong enough to support him whenever she can— because she wants to, Gwen wants to help— for him to continue growing.
.oOo.
Merlin remembers... only a bit of what happens during the next week.
First things first, he feels like the pulp of a juiced orange. Pulverized. It's how things go— things are great, then dull, then he gets hurt, he is hurt more, and it starts over again.
Merlin, unaware of their heading through The Valley of the Fallen Kings, realizes something is wrong.
Sometimes he feels the way the air is still, or how the ground settles into its graves. It is more magical sense than anything. His heart turns to clover when a shrine is nearby, bubbling thoughts rise up when druids are close, and holy ground pokes his feet upon contact.
Now? His ears are wind chimes and rain and moss. It tickles, and he wants out.
Then he sees a (huge) fallen statue's head.
Merlin was unaware of where they are going but now swears under his breath. The Valley of the Fallen Kings. "Arthur? You are not serious."
"What else do you have in mind?"
"Anything. Nothing good ever happens in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. No one in their right mind would go in there." Nothing good happens there. It is only bandits, thugs, and more bandits. He is sick of it, honestly.
Percy speaks up. "Exactly." It's like he's trying to prove the point, but with not even a fact to back it up.
"The route's a secret, Merlin." Arthur snides, "That's why we chose it."
And woe to them all, and especially Merlin, as armed men swarm down the hillside, and from all sides. "Not so secret after all." Merlin is sick of this, every day.
And the king replies, throwing off his cape, "No need to get cocky!"
It is a fair bit of clanging, one very visible spell from Merlin, and a horseman who swings a mace into Merlin's chest before Arthur stops in horror.
YOU ARE READING
Mostly because dead people don't talk back
FanfictionVery often and sometimes a bit too many times for his taste, Gwaine found himself in very unique situations when near to Merlin. The smell of blood and dirt smothered his senses, and Gwaine couldn't get up the energy to remove himself from this sit...
