As Clear As Blood (A Merlin Fan Fiction)

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The tree cast a shadow over a half sleeping Merlin who was slumped tiredly against the old trunk. Merlin was enclosed by the
shadow's cool and static temper, protecting him from the sun's burning gaze. His eyes slowly flicked open revealing his sparkling blue iris, which seemed to lock away all the pain he had ever seen, ever felt.

Merlin picked at an old scar on his shoulder, he'd got it from the Knights of Medhir years ago. The scar shouldn't still be as prominent as it was; that was all down to merlin who wouldn't stop picking it until it bled. Blood ran down his fingers and Merlin sighed, rubbing the scar anxiously. He had more scars than any Camelot knight, he'd fought with his life for Arthur in return for nothing and that had made him a target for any one with a glimmer of hatred towards Arthur. He'd got lots of scars on his arms, legs and torso, but his biggest one was a gaping hole in his mind, unleashing monsters from hell which taunted him at night.

He ran his fingers through the dust and dirt on the uneven forest ground, questioning who he would be if he had never come to Camelot. His life could have been peaceful, quiet, no pain, no scars, just happiness. But he'd left because his mother had wished Gaius to protect him, he'd agreed because he wasn't really happy there. To him he wasn't anybody really, just a guy born with magic, he hated to think what would he feel if he had no magic. If it was not for the constant nagging about his destiny, Merlin knew he'd be in a horrible place right now and those stupid beasts in his head, he feared, would be in control.

It had been years since Will, King Uther and Freya had died and not long since Lancelot and his father had died, just over a year, Merlin believed he was responsible for their deaths, to him it felt like he had stabbed each one of them in cold blood. If he had never let William fight, found the magic ruining his spell and saved Uther, if he'd only have looked after Freya more, not told Lancelot of his plan, never found his father they'd all surely be alive.

Merlin shivered at the sound of his name being called out into the trees, he pulled himself up off the ground only to realise he'd been crying. He desperately tried to pull the tears off his face before being founded by Arthur. His royal Pratt of a friend popped out behind a tree and rolled his eyes at the sight of Merlin.

"Merlin! I've been looking everywhere, why the hell have I found you here," Arthur shook his head in exasperation.

Merlin vigorously rubbed his eyes one last time before turning to Arthur, who gave him a suspicious look as he saw how bloodshot Merlin's eyes were.

"Merlin?"

"Yes I'll polish your armour" Merlin sighed unenthusiastically

"No I was going to ask you if everything is ok?" Arthur asked, trying and failing at hiding his concern for Merlin.

"Yes," He replied blankly, not looking up from his scratched shoes.

"Then I guess you can polish my armour," Arthur said, causing Merlin to sigh again, "and you can stop the sighing! I'm the King! It's your reward to be my servant, remember?"