The Code of Chivalry, as adhered to by the Knights of the Round Table in Arthurian legend, told of the five virtues of knighthood - Honour, Bravery, Gallantry, Valour and Loyalty. No one man embodies these qualities more than Sir Lancelot.
Mini Mercelot Week - Day 2: Grace!
Music - When a Knight Won His Spurs by Martin Simpson
(It has been a loooog time since I last made a video so please excuse the quality. And I forgot how difficult voice isolation is so the audio isn’t as good as it should be, but hopefully you can forgive me! 😊)
Modern Reincarnation AU. Merlin and Lancelot go through a photo album. ~1700 words. Lancelot/Merlin. No warnings apply. (Mention of car wreck that killed Lancelot in a past life.)
A late birthday gift for Mod @little-ligi, because I couldn't have made this fest work without her. You're the best Ligi 💗
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There’s no need to print photographs anymore. It’s easy enough to look at a screen and and flip through thousands, hundreds of thousands of images. But there has always been something special about choosing individual moments, perfect snapshots, and cataloging them into a book whose pages he can flip through. Merlin has been alive for over 1500 years. Books are one of the most familiar things he knows. One of the only things that hasn’t changed much in 1500 years.
People changed, clothes changed, transport changed, but not books. Those had remained nearly the same. You open the front cover and you look at what’s inside, just like always.
After 1500 years of adaptations, it was nice for this one thing to remain the same.
So when Lancelot hands him the photo album, Merlin is about to break his own face in half with how much he smiles at it. It’s a good thing, no a great thing, that Lancelot has done. The photo album is a deep forest green, the cover embossed with “The Book of Us.” In silver letters that Merlin traces with his fingers.
“What’s the occasion?” He asked, almost unable to take his eyes off of the book.
“Today is the day we met in this life, 10 years ago. I thought it might be nice.” Lancelot’s voice is so sincere, that Merlin has to look at him, has to look at the face of the man that he has loved without end or conditions for 1500 years. Tears prick his eyes because of all the love he see’s in Lancelot’s.
“I love you.” Merlin’s voice is soft when he finally finds it, and Lancelot crushes him to his broad chest, giving him a stability Merlin didn’t even know he needed until he had it.
“And I you,” Lancelot kissed Merlin’s cheek and Merlin’s fingers itched to open the photo album, but he didn’t want to leave the circle of Lancelot’s arms. He’s content to just listen to soft sound of Lancelot’s breaths, feel the pounding of his heart against his chest.
It’s Lancelot who finally breaks the silence. “Would you like to see the photos, my love?” His voice is soft and nonjudgemental. It’s obvious to Merlin that either a yes or a no would be acceptable.
“Yeah,” Merlin finally says, composing himself to pull away and walk with Lancelot to the couch.
They sit and Lancelot waits patiently for Merlin to feel ready to open the book.
The first few pages cover the span of over a year, with so few pictures taken before Lancelot knew him, before he remembered. Several of them are pulled from Instagram, captions included. There’s one of an empty seat and a drained coffee cup, and the caption just reads “I think I’ve met the man of my dreams.” It’s from their first coffee date, Lancelot’s post-date instagram update. Merlin laughed aloud, almost having forgotten it. The next is a candid shot of Merlin. They’d taken a weekend holiday a few months into dating and gone for a hike. The sun was setting behind Merlin, blurring out his features, but the silhouette was so obviously him.
The next was one of Lancelot cooking breakfast, looking over his shoulder to smile curiously at the camera.
Then the first selfie they’d ever taken together, complete with Lancelot pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek.
The photographs become more numerous, after that. Some of them and all their friends. There’s the photoset from Morgana’s birthday party (She’d rented a photo booth “because why they hell shouldn’t I spend Uther’s money on bullshit?”) There’s the Christmas photos for the dinner they always throw at Merlin’s because Lancelot doesn’t have any living family to go home to. Arthur and Morgana pop by when Uther becomes insufferable. Gwen and Elyan bring their father by to say hi. Leon stops by with gifts on his way to Mithian’s parent’s house. All these silly little moments caught on camera and made eternal, printed and carefully organized.
There’s the set they took at their third anniversary, a gift from Gwen and Arthur (who had recently gotten their heads out of unsavory places and started dating). There’s the picture of he and Gwaine standing side be side, smiling like old friends despite having just met twenty minutes ago. Merlin has a bruise forming on his cheek, but he’d insisted Lancelot take picture, to commemorate. “It’s not everyday I get in a bar fight, my love. Humor me.” And Lancelot always did.
There’s the terrible sledding disaster of 2015, where Merlin had crashed straight into a tree, and had been having too much fun to stop it with his magic. This is a still from a video, shortly before the actual disaster occurred. By the time the disaster was eminent Lancelot was no longer filming.
There’s the pictures he and Lancelot used to sneak of each other, just to have. Lancelot watching tellie. Merlin having a nap on the couch. Lancelot unclogging the sink. Merlin folding laundry. There was no rhyme or reason, then, for why they took the photos. It was a fun phase, each feeling challenged to take the most mundane pictures, always followed by a faked whining or griping.
There’s the picture of them from two years ago, in tailored suits, surrounded by friends, making their vows, followed by a series of all their friends dancing. A professional photographer had taken these photos, but Merlin always preferred the less polished pictures he and Lancelot took themselves that day.
Like the one Merlin had taken of Lancelot after he’d shoved cake in his face. Or Gwen’s candid picture of them gazing at each other like the biggest idiots in love.
Merlin doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he feels a tear roll down his face only when Lancelot pushes it away.
“I hope these are happy.” Lancelot puts his arm around him and Merlin nuzzles his shoulder. It’s enough, right now, to feel his warmth and smell his soap and just be near him. It’s grounding in a way only Lancelot ever was. The years with Lancelot, and there always seemed to be so many fewer of those than years without him, always made him feel the most alive. The most loved. The memories of Lancelot were good, but they didn’t sustain him, not like this would.
“Come here.” Merlins said, wiping his face and standing suddenly. He takes Lancelot’s hand and leads him out to the car.
“Where are we going?” He asked as they buckled the seat belts, but Merlin just shook his head.
“I want to show you something.”
—
The self storage place they pull up to is one of the last things Lancelot expects.
“Come on.” Merlin gets out and Lancelot dutifully follows, just like always. He lets Merlin take his hand again and watches as he pulls out a key ring that Lancelot’s never seen before and flips through them.
‘I put everything away, every time I meet one of you.” Merlin explains. “I used to have to keep the houses, to keep the things, but these are more secure.” He finally finds the key he needs as they stop outside a storage unit. “This one is from when we lived in the 1960s. Found you in Wales, then, of all places.” He smiled wanly. “We had 10 years together before you died in 1968. Car wreck.”
Lancelot only ever remembers bits of pieces of his past lives, normally only the good bits. “You weren’t with me, I presume?”
Merlin laughed as he wrenched the storage room door open. “You wouldn’t let me.”
“Is that why you never let me ride in a car without you now?”
“Part of it. I also just don’t like to be away from you.” Merlin flicked a light on and Lancelot was surprised by the sheer volume of things that existed in the room. “This was all of your things. I usually give myself about a year to wallow before I pack it away. If it’s here I never have to forget it, but I can still come and see it, if I need to.” He drags Lancelot to the back. On a wire rack there are plastic containers that looks like they’ve been taped shut. Merlin mutters a quick spell to remove the taping and then digs through the box. There are books, folders, papers, but then Merlin pulls out a photo album.
“I want you to see this. Because… I don’t know. It feels important.” Merlin is a very very old man, but he still doesn’t always have all the answers. Sometimes he just has to trust his gut and hope for the best.
He takes the album gently. It doesn’t smell stale the way old books usually do, most likely due to Merlin’s magic, but he flips it open anyway, without question. The first picture is of him and Merlin, a different him, but the same Merlin, Merlin’s arm is slung over him and they’re posing much more like a happy couple than a pair of friends. “Who took this?” He asked, tracing the lines of Merlin’s face. He looks so much older here than the Merlin he knows.
“Elyan. He liked photography. Took well to most of the Arts that life, actually.” Merlin smile and flipped a few pages to show Lancelot a picture of Elyan with a painting. “Abstraction was sort of the thing, then. He does a good job of it.”
“I don’t know anything about art, but it’s very compelling.” Even in the dreamy old photo, which was saying quite a lot.
“I brought it, a few years after he died. It’s in one of the other units.”
“How many of these do you have?” Lancelot asked, turning the page and almost laughing aloud at the image of Gwaine holding Arthur in a headlock. The two of them never changed, apparently.
“Just a couple. There are quite a lot of units in each building.”
“You own this building?”
“I’ve been alive for 1500 years, my love.” Merlin kisses his cheek and Lancelot closes the album. “I have a lot of stuff.”
“We’re taking this with us.”
“That was always the intent.” Merlin closes the box and spells the tape back into place. “That was a gift from you, too, actually, birthday present.”
“I’m predictable.”
Merlin laughed and wrapped an arm around Lancelot, tilting his head up to kiss his forehead. “You’re sentimental, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He pulled Merlin’s head back down to kiss hims squarely on the lips, making Merlin finally pause for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. “Neither would I.”
So it’s a day late, but it’s here! Mini @mercelotweek day 5: Gifts!
Blackberries, Griffins and a Kiss For You
💕 Read on Ao3 HERE! 💕
“Oh,” Lancelot exclaimed quietly. He stepped around Gwaine and reached for a small cherry wood sculpture of a griffin. He turned it over in his hands, a chuckle rumbling in the back of his throat.
“I have to buy this for Merlin,” he said, lifting the tiny wooden creature up to his face.
“He likes griffins, does he?” Gwaine asked, confused. He’d never heard Merlin express any kind of fondness about them.
“Not particularly, no.” Lancelot chuckled again and moved over to the stallholder, holding the griffin statuette up and pulling out his moneybag.
Lancelot is a sweetheart and likes buying Merlin gifts. 🎁
Merlin will do anything to free Shade Lancelot from Morgana's evil magic and get his beloved knight back. Even if it means poisoning him, tying him to a horse and riding deep into the mountains to seek a higher power in a lake.
“Thank you,” Merlin called over his shoulder to the dragon as he turned to sprint back towards the castle.
He was completely breathless by the time he got up to Gaius’s chambers. But the fact he was still grinning – albeit through the panted breaths – made Gaius’s face light up with hope when Merlin burst into the room.
“I’ve got it…” he puffed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for a second, before striding across the room to pull a satchel off the hook on the wall.
“Merlin, my lad, slow down. What did the dragon say?”
Merlin continued stuffing provisions and other things he thought he might need for the journey into the satchel, glancing up at Gaius briefly. “The Cauldron of Arianrhod! Kilgharrah says if I can get Lancelot into the waters there, then the White Goddess’s power can free him from Morgana’s hold.”
Written for @merlinbingo square - Back From The Dead
And Mini @mercelotweek day 3 - Angst
Chapter two will be up tomorrow (MMW day 4 - Travel)
Merlin will do anything to free Shade Lancelot from Morgana's evil magic and get his beloved knight back. Even if it means poisoning him, tying him to a horse and riding deep into the mountains to seek a higher power in a lake.
They were just crossing a wide field, sunlight filtering through the swirling clouds, when Lancelot shifted in Merlin’s grip. Merlin automatically pulled his arms tighter, dipping his head to rub his cheek against Lancelot’s hair, before he registered what Lancelot moving meant. His eyes flew up to the sun, squinting as he checked its position in the sky. He’d missed giving Lancelot the latest dose of belladonna to keep him unconscious and the Shade was waking.
Blanching, he pulled back from Lancelot, his hand flying to his pocket. But his hand got tangled in his jacket as he frantically tried to pull the bottle out and yank on the reins to stop the horse at the same time. He was still fighting to free the little bottle from the confines of his jacket when Lancelot groaned and tensed in front of him. He dropped the reins, his hand flying up to Lancelot’s chest to hold him steady.
Lancelot opened his eyes.
Written for @merlinbingo square - Back From The Dead
