Gwen knows Lancelot still has some feelings for her. It would be easy to ask him to protect Arthur, she knows he would do anything for her. It would also be cruel, and Gwen, for all her love and worry for Arthur, doesn't have the heart for this.
She waits with the knights, quietly talking with Elyan. She waits for the only person she knows she can trust with such a grave task.
"Please," she prays to Merlin. "Keep him safe. Return him to me alive."
Merlin wouldn't do it for her. She knows he loves Arthur, just as dearly as she does, if not more. Merlin saw Arthur safe through many ills and threats over the years. Merlin would lay down his life to protect their prince. She doesn't even need to ask him. She does it to warn him, to open his eyes to Arthur's grave burden, to him looking back and taking in Camelot as though he's seeing it for the last time.
"Of course," Merlin responds quietly, solemnly. And of course Merlin has already seen it, for he is always with Arthur and knows him better than he does himself. "Take care of him," he pleads in return, and Gwen promises the same.
~~~
Lancelot is used to pair off with Merlin. All their adventures in the last year always felt like that to him — adventures. He's a safe harbor for Merlin; and Merlin keeps him, all of them, safe.
Other knights might feel unsure when walking into danger, might hesitate at the low odds in an ambush, might be wary at the sight of magical foes. But Lancelot knows that Merlin always keeps them safe, always has a few more tricks up his sleeve, and Lancelot cherishes, chases the moments after the danger has passed and they would be eyeing each other with mischief in their eyes at Arthur's obliviousness to the source of their salvation.
Standing by Merlin's side feels like standing at the eye of a storm. All-seeing, all-knowing, safe amidst the force of nature.
Merlin's voice still sounds lost and fractured in Lancelot's mind, for magic is a part of Merlin, and that part was lost when the Dorocha came.
For the first time, Lancelot hears Merlin afraid.
When they returned from Howden, Lancelot didn't leave Merlin's side. He followed the warlock to the privacy of his chambers, and slowly they coaxed Merlin's magic back into the world, the butterfly wings so fragile that Lancelot had to stay, had to reassure him some more, voice going softer with each conjured sun in Merlin's eyes.
And he might be angry, he has the right to feel angry on behalf of Merlin, because Merlin never is (never for himself). He's angry at the kingdom which denies Merlin his magic, and now at the whole world joining in the denial. Magic is a part of Merlin, and for all that Lancelot loves him for his kind heart, he can't look away from the splinters running through Merlin's very being, splinters where magic rests unsure. Lancelot can't think of Merlin without his magic, without the sunrise in his eyes, and he easily volunteers to accompany Arthur to close the Veil. Anything to bring his sun back.
Of course, Merlin follows them, he always does. And if before Lancelot hasn't complained about Arthur taking his unarmed and unarmored servant on every quest, now Lancelot feels an urge to scream, to shake Arthur by his shoulders and ask him why, why he's always so careless with a man he refuses to knight and to call a friend.
Now Lancelot shadows Merlin's every stubborn step, and watches out for danger in every whisper of their road, and doesn't see the promised end in Melin's determined words and wistful eyes.
I have seen quite a bit of people talking about how during the year between season 3 and 4, Lancelot was likely helping Merlin with his magically shenanigans but more often then not it’s portrayed as like this
Like everyone forgets Lancelot straight up committed identity fraud because Merlin batted his eyes at him??? Lancelot casually and subtly encourages Merlin to do magic (aka commit treason) in the middle of the crowded hallways?? Yes Lancelot was probably helping as much as Merlin let him but it was probably more like:
Poor Gaius has to deal with his disaster nephew/son/ward AND his disaster nephew/son/ward’s disaster treason buddy/best friend/boyfriend with full knowledge of what they are up to and just barley managing to avoid even more chaos. The real reason the writers never let Gwaine figure out Merlin’s magic is he’d be just as much an enabler as Lancelot, and more than willing to cause more chaos.
The crowd outside the cage certainly loves him, would love him both victorious and with his guts spilled — depending on which side they have bet on. The cheers and the boos wash his skin with grime and blood, but they welcome him and love him, nonetheless.
Lancelot tries not to wonder what Merlin would think of him now. Merlin is far away in Camelot, and Lancelot would be long dead before Merlin would think of him, would learn of his fate. The knights didn't love him in the end, so Lancelot settled for someone who would, someone who could use his sword, and that, unfortunately, was only ever someone like Hengist.
Lancelot skips towards the center of the cage and takes in his opponent. The guy is a mountain of a man, and the bloodthirsty crowd goes wild around him. If he wins against that, it's going to be a whole bag of gold, and if not — well, Lancelot wouldn't need to worry about it then.
He throws a last look towards their host to gauge his mood and stops short.
On Hengist's right hand, pale against the opulence of furs and skulls, sits someone who should have been safe and happy in Camelot. Their gazes meet over the rambunctious crowd, and it's the start of the battle that makes Lancelot avert his own, but something vile and shameful spikes his veins as the blue eyes of Hengist's guest keep following him.
But soon, those blue eyes have to leave his mind, for he's moving around the cage, slashing and parrying and pushing — all the usual moves of his favorite dance. He doesn't mind the pain, the blood, the grime; they're all a package deal to what he was born to do, and a twisted sense of belonging fills him while he fights to kill amidst the lowlives' gazes, all while blue eyes still pierce him from high above.
The finishing moves of his dance bring his sword to the man's throat, and he knows what he must do; he has done it before. The sword inches further, grazing the neck in a death's chaste kiss, but the weight on his shoulders makes him look up and meet Merlin's eyes over the hungry crowd that urges him to kill, kill, kill.
Lancelot stays his blade.
It is against the rules of the cage, and maybe Lancelot has allowed this sick place to permeate him, grime and blood long stuck under his fingernails, but he can't fall even lower in Merlin's eyes. He sheathes the sword and doesn't look at the terrified eyes of his opponent, and he leaves the cage behind him. With the hungry crowd booing at him for his bloodless victory, his feet bring him to Hengist.
He tries to look at Merlin only briefly, to not show his interest in front of their host, but what he sees leaves him paralyzed, cold sweat running down the temples and heart beating frantically, like a rabbit in a snare.
What first gets his attention is a bruise, blooming red on Merlin's cheek, right under his eyes, bright with disbelief. He can't look at them, though, as his gaze falls lower to the neck where Merlin's usual neckerchief is missing, some bulky, ugly collar clasped tight around his throat.
While his eyes are fixed on Merlin, he misses Hengist's face going ripe red with anger and him giving a sign to his men.
At once, two thugs step forward, grip him by the shoulders, and push him to his knees. His sword at the hip clinks uselessly against the stone floor. He can't run, there are too many people, and like vultures, they would eat him before he even reaches the cages. He can't run and leave Merlin here.
He stays still on his knees as Hengist spits at him. "There's no mercy in this place, you stupid rat." And again, the hungry crowd shouts and urges for the kill, kill, kill. "You should have known better. I will always have some blood, one way or another."
Hengist gives another signal, and Lancelot hears a thug drawing a dagger, still dirty with another's caked blood, and swallows his fear at the kiss of the blade on his throat. He doesn't want to leave Merlin here alone, but he can't run.
"Wait!" Merlin shouts. His voice is hoarse and weak, and his eyes seem feverish. "Don't kill him. Please."
"Would you look at that," Hengist laughs, and bile reaches Lancelot's throat as the lord's attention shifts to his prisoner. "My pet sorcerer took a liking to you."
Sorcerer. Is it good that Hengist knows about it, would see him as valuable enough to spare? Is it bad? Lancelot doesn't know.
"What's it about, hm?" Hengist watches them. "Is it the way he fought? Would you ask the same for any of my men, pet?"
"No," Merlin answers bluntly, defiance still shining through his features despite everything.
"Then why?" Hengist indulges him, a twisted smile stuck on his face.
"He has a kind heart. It should not be wasted."
Lancelot looks down, shame piercing that same heart. What value is it if he's here of his own volition, fighting and killing for money? Has Merlin really looked at it, or does he still remember that naive lad from when he first came to Camelot?
"A kind heart?" Hengist laughs with abandon, and his thugs echo him. "And what do you think it's worth? A gold piece a pound? A silver? I'll tell you what it's worth — nothing."
Hengist raises his hand to give another signal for his execution, but Merlin grabs at it. "Don't!" The shackles on his wrists clink with an ugly sound, and Lancelot despairs at the sight. "Don't hurt him. I'll do what you want, just don't hurt him."
Hengist seethes at the touch and grips Merlin's shackled hand with his own, hard, squeezing it until he cries out. Hengist doesn't release him then. He stands up and, his meaty palm still on Merlin, strides purposefully towards the cages, Merlin stumbling after him.
They stop at the entrance, the crowd going silent with curiosity around them. The thugs turn Lancelot around, curious as well, and the dagger grazes his throat at the careless movement.
Hengist puts Merlin's back to him and reaches for one of the heavy keys strung at his neck. He unlocks the shackles and the collar at Merlin's nape, and in one swift movement shoves him brutally into the cage. Merlin crashes hard onto the rough stone, scraping his palms against it.
In front of him stands the cowering form of a giant Lancelot spared, his sword long gone to the vultures outside the cage.
Behind him, the door slams shut, with Hengist leaning against it, and Lancelot can't see the sleazy smile on his face, but he can definitely hear it.
"I'm feeling kind today," and the crowd cackles with him. "I'll give one of you rats another chance."
At these words, the giant stops cowering, and a huge bloody smile shines on his face. His eyes go to the still kneeling form in front of him. Merlin is still panting and coughing and doesn't get up. Lancelot would shout for him to get up, but the dagger presses closer to his neck, and he has to swallow his words lest he soaks them with blood.
"You," Hengist addresses the warlock. "If you lose, or decide to spare him, I'll kill that rat over there," he pauses to let that sink in. The weight of these words falls heavily on Merlin, as he struggles to get up on shaking legs. "Show me what you're worth."
And it is all the signal the giant needs. He surges forward, as if pushed by his chance to stay alive and keep the worthless life Lancelot desperately regrets sparing. He throws himself at Merlin, crushing into him with all his weight, and brings him back down onto the bloody floor.
Lancelot watches, helplessness and misery clawing at his throat worse than any dagger could. He thrashes against his captors, but their iron grip locks him in place, and a heavy fist buries itself deep into his gut, knocking the breath out of him along with all the struggle, and only the sickening nausea remains. He is forced to watch, and he won't blink, won't avert his gaze from whatever happens, because it's the only thing he can do for Merlin, and he should see the consequences of his own actions.
The giant brings his hands to Merlin's neck, pushing into where the collar was just a minute ago, and Merlin lets out a pained and breathless gasp, his own hands going weakly for the giant's. Still, the thug's hands cling to Merlin's neck, like he clings to his own chance to live. There's no regret or shame on the bloody face, only a smile of a man breathing in his freedom.
Merlin's hands fall down. Lancelot's heart skips a beat, and there's a moment of sick triumph on the giant's face before he is suddenly, violently thrown back by an invisible force. The man's massive frame flies easily through the air and crashes into the iron cage with a rattle and a wet, loud crunch of bone. It slides heavily onto the floor and doesn't get up. Blood leaks from his fractured skull in a thick stream, and his lifeless eyes stare wide, frozen in a permanent, glassy gaze of horror directed right at Merlin.
Merlin stands up shakily, his breath fast and gulping, and stares at the body with golden eyes.
Hengist appears at his back and snaps the collar back around his throat, and the sun in Merlin's eyes instantly dies out, giving way to the feverish, dazed blue. Merlin's breath hitches loudly, painfully, and he brings his shaking hands to the collar and then jerks them away, as if burned.
All the while, Hengist laughs amidst the uneasy spectators and leads the sorcerer out by his arm. He nods at Lancelot's captors, and he is set free, and at once he rushes closer, stopping at the edge of the crowd.
Up close, Merlin looks even worse now. His skin shines with sweat, and he wheezes with each breath, and a new bruise blooms under the metal collar. It was put there by another's hands, but those as well may be Lancelot's own. Lancelot yearns to close the distance and to rip away the damn collar which must be hurting him somehow, to plead forgiveness for his mistake Merlin had to pay for, to take him away from Hengist.
He stays, rooted to the spot, afraid of making another mistake. Merlin doesn't look at him.
Hengist reaches for a bag at his belt and throws it at Lancelot. He catches it on a reflex, and the gold burns his hands.
"For the entertainment," Hengist comments and watches him before once again shifting his attention to the prisoner. He grabs the sorcerer by the collar, dirty nails biting into the skin. "You truly think that guy's heart is kind?" Someone from the crowd laughs on reflex but quickly shuts up at Hengist's annoyed glare. "That rat kills just like anyone does. All for a bag of gold."
The statement punches him in the gut and once again knocks all air and struggle out of him. It's the truth, and it settles heavy on his shoulders, a perfect fit. It's the truth, and it flays at his chest, reaching toward his heart with each bloody memory, each murder. It's the truth, and Lancelot looks down in shame, not wishing to see Merlin's disappointed look, not deserving of the blood on Merlin's hands.
It's no matter. By the time he finds the courage to look up, both Hengist and Merlin are gone.
The crowd disperses, finally sated with their bloody meal, and the dirty bag of gold burns a hole through his hands and falls down on the floor.
i struggle to think of modern au mercelot scenarios because imo their relationship is so contextual and relies on the fantasy elements of the canon setting. i could see lancelot wanting to become... law enforcement (ew) because of his childhood tragedy, since there are a lot of stories like that already. either that or a soldier/join the army. the latter is more likely i think. but what about merlin??? so much of their friendship is about bravery on the face of the different challenges the world throws at them, the magic that merlin has and lancelot guards and adores. i could see merlin as a doctor of some kind, but WHAT would be his secret??? (that he's queer)
aaaah idk idk. thoughts????? would love to hear about other people's visions
I've thought about it and I have an idea... 🤔 Consider underground fighter Lancelot. Think about Lancelot from season 2. He had nothing and no one and fought for money.
I think it sounds delicious.
(the whole story outline under the cut)
Lancelot might have had a dream of being something else (those sweet ideas like a doctor, or a law enforcer (ew), or something). But Lancelot is a poor orphan and doesn't have money for that education or enough smarts for a scholarship (maybe he had tried for it and didn't pass and the uni told him to try next year). And he might have been disillusioned about the dream (especially if it's a law enforcer? Uther might be connected with it).
And then someone got him into illegal fighting for money, and Lancelot is very good at fighting.
Let's call the fighting place "The Lair".
I can see Lancelot using that money to help in the orphanage, or at the food banks, etc. Maybe he actually needs money for some other orphan kid's hospital bills. Maybe he self-studies at a public library. And/or saves up money for his education.
After Lancelot got a little used to the fighting gig, a new face appears there — Merlin. Merlin takes care of everyone's wounds and he's much better than the previous hack they had.
Merlin cleans and stitches up his wounds with careful hands and a gentle smile, and no one has ever treated Lancelot this kind. Lancelot soaks up his care and gets into more fights (for more money and/or to meet Merlin) and sometimes they talk.
And then one time they meet outside the Lair, at a public library. Lancelot is flabbergasted and Merlin casually strides up to him and comments on his reading and gives a few pointers if it's about medicine. Then one of them suggest they go for a coffee and they have a good time (it's a date).
Now, what's the deal with Merlin? (aside from him being queer)
Merlin has a pretty good friend (on a good day) — Arthur. Arthur's father - Uther - is a head of the police/mayor. Uther and his people are jerks but Merlin worked his magic on Arthur and Arthur isn't much of a jerk anymore. Arthur wants to succeed his father and to turn the system for the better.
However, Merlin is not going to wait forever for that change. Merlin has a vigilante group running, solving crimes, helping the victims and getting them legal assistance, fucking up the elites. Kilgharrah is their grumpy informant (they're chatting over text and never saw each other), Gaius might be a lawyer (sorry for not making him a doctor. he paid for Merlin's doctor education though). But the main workers are Merlin and Morgana (and sometimes Gwen helps?).
Arthur didn't know about it (Merlin had to do a lot of shady things for his group? and it was risky telling Arthur?). But with Uther's death a few months ago, Merlin was just going to tell Arthur over some dinner, but Arthur never came.
After Uther's death, Agravaine got appointed as the new head. Agravaine is corrupt, and his corrupt friends got him the place at the top, and Agravaine will close his eyes on some of the city regions, or some business, or some people disappearances, especially if it's the Lair and if it's Arthur's disappearance.
Merlin went undercover to the Lair. It was on their radar for a while, but Arthur's disappearance and some vague shady traces leading to the Lair's involvement got him running head first into the danger. The shady shit is well hidden however, and it takes some time to investigate it.
There he meets Lancelot and is surprised how such a seemingly nice person got there.
Merlin investigates Lancelot and one time even stalks him to the library (what if Lancelot has a shady meeting there, huh?). Lancelot noticed him, and Merlin had to approach him and have a talk (it was very nice).
Lancelot later catches Merlin at his shady activities (sneaking around or hacking or killing someone with a gun...) and keeps quiet about it and then helps Merlin, putting his own position and life at risk. Some action and bloody filled plot unravels at the Lair...
I'm just imagining Lancelot for the whole of it with some scrapes and bruises and bandages
Just read a line fanfic line "That’s one thing Merlin missed with Lancelot. He never stopped being his friend whenever he put on the knight’s cape." And excuse you, but I'mma go lie down and die.
"What happened there?" Arthur whispered in the disquiet of the forest, kneeling beside his servant, who curled up in sleep in the corner of their camp.
Lancelot didn't have an answer for him. He didn't remember. His head felt hollow, scraped from the inside out, as disjointed thoughts echoed in there with a hissing sound. All he knew was that their last adventure left Merlin shivering in his bedroll, hugging himself with scraped arms in a last bid for comfort, as a single silent tear traveled across his cheek.
Lancelot reached out to swipe at it with a gentle hand and, while tugging Merlin's neckerchief to better hide the Fomorroh's scar from Arthur's eyes, revealed something else entirely.
All breath had left him as he stared at Merlin's heavily bruised throat. Cold horror ran through his veins, as hot rage bloomed in his heart at the monster who dared to hurt, to taint Merlin like this, to lay their hands on him as though they could stifle the sun and not be burnt for it.
He put his shaking fingers above the ugly bruises, and they were the perfect shape.
Merlin whimpered in his sleep and inched away from him.
"The destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young man" - wdym rests? He got crushed, absolutely flattened. Destiny turned that man into a pancake
