Those Who Waited (BBC Merlin)

Chapter 20: To Share A Mind

Chapter 20: To Share A Mind

"Oi, you've got to do better than that if you want to even bruise me," the man slurs, swaying and smirking. His thick dark hair is messy, obscuring his vision but the skin revealed from his torn shirt shows no sign of bruising.

The man scowling at him is sweaty and pig-headed, and technically threw the first swing. All over the score of American football. His opponent could be no more than twenty, yet is beefy and obviously has poor judgment even without the beers he's just gulped down.

The man doing all the taunting is definitely a few years older, and obviously holding his alcohol better. The swaying and slurring can't be all drunkenness, otherwise there's no way he'd be unharmed. His t-shirt is torn halfway down the front, but looks like an old college shirt anyway, and his jeans are fitted but soft and flexible with wear. His boots are solid, but not heavy and also are well worn.

Behind him, in the back corner of the bar a man sits alone, quiet but watching intently. His shoulders are clad in a beige polo shirt, but his arms on the table have no watch or rings. He looks younger than the brunette fighter, but not by much, though his face has only stubble to accentuate his elegant jaw and high cheekbones. Rich, chocolate eyes follow the fighting's every move, a smirk somewhere between proud and entertained. And then they are looking straight into me. And I am no longer observing, but am corporeal. I feel my tongue, heavy in my mouth, and I feel my heart beating unevenly in my chest. Lancelot. He nods and smiles.

Messy hair and broad shoulders dance into my vision as the taunting fighter bounces around, making his opponent's annoyance increase.

"Gwaine, you troublemaker," I feel my lips smile around the words, the endearment feeling familiar on my tongue as I watch my comrade dodge another stupid, beefy swing. The smirking fighter turns back and winks at me, before jumping gracefully onto the bartop and kicking the idiot boy's drink right into his face.

"Are we going crazy?" she breathed. Gwen frowned, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I don't think we can both be going crazy the same way," she said.

I keep my lips tightly pressed together so as not to allow even my breath to make noise as I spy intently. I'm spying, no point denying it or saying it's an accident. I purposefully wore my old, dirty cloak with the hood that is so grass stained it blends into the ground -- thank the gods my subjects are walking in the trees where I at least have some shade from the burning sun.

"Ooh, what are we doing?" a voice whispers so close to my ear that I wiggle and nearly snort as the breath tickles my skin. I glare at Rowanna for startling me, and nearly giving away my -- now our -- hiding place.

"Merlin and Susetthe, duh," I whisper back, unable to hold the glare for long before grinning mischievously. Rowanna grins and plops down beside me, again making more noise than I like "Shh, you'll get us caught you oaf."

She scoffs. "They're far too wrapped up in each other," she argues, though her voice is considerably quieter. We settle in the underbrush at the base of one of the larger trees, lying across the large roots to see our friends.

They don't quite walk, but they don't quite stand still either. Their voices are too quiet for us to hear, but I know we both saw the way Merlin's shoulders and head curve towards her smaller figure, and how she almost makes a point to face him completely when she speaks. I'm pretty sure a damn tiger could jump out and they'd only barely look around at it.