The Tournament of Gladiators

Two~Hunting

     "Hey, Merlin!" Gwaine called out to the boy. "Can you get me some more of that stew you made? It was fantastic." Merlin sighed, putting down his own bowl. He hadn't even gotten a bite yet. And it sounded like he wasn't going to, especially considering the other knights had begun to ask for more as well.

      "And, Merlin?" Arthur's voice made the servant wince. "Once you're done, make sure you check on the horses." And there it is. More thankless chores. Not that he wasn't used to it at this point. Quickly, he spooned the remaining food into the knight's bowls, one by one, simply nodding as they thanked him.

      "Well, if you all are done eating my portion of the food, I'm going to wash the dishes." The knights laughed, handing off their dirty bowls to the servant.

      "Merlin, wait! You forgot to check the horses!" Merlin rolled his eyes, letting the bowls fall from his arms with a loud clank.

      "Right away, sire. Would you perhaps like me to tuck you into your bedroll before I go?" Laughter from the knights echoed in the dark woods at his comment.

      "I'd like you to tuck me in, Merlin." Gwaine joked, grunting as Elyan elbowed him jokingly.

      "Yeah, Merlin! Why don't you tuck us all in?" Percival chimed in, triggering a whole new round of laughter. Lancelot chuckled, standing up.

      "I'll help you with the horses, Merlin." The two friends walked off into the distance, the sound of laughter following them even once the knights themselves were nearly out of sight. They walked in silence, allowing Merlin to think, to reflect on the past few days.  Times in Camelot had been tough for everyone, but Merlin especially. It seemed like at every turn he would have some new peril thrown at him, someone he loved taken away. Merlin felt his breath hitch at the thought of the ones he had lost. The anniversary of Freya's death was in a week. Merlin had thought he was able to put that aside, but seeing her in the puddle two months ago had reopened the wound. "-lin? Merlin?" The warlock snapped his head up, breaking away from his apparent trance by Lancelot's voice. He suddenly became aware of the tear that had begun it's decent down his face.

      "I'm alright." He whispered, trying to ease his friend's worries. Lancelot looked unconvinced.

       "You don't seem alright, Merlin. I've been saying your name for two minutes. I honestly thought you had somehow gone to sleep standing up." Merlin gave a small huff that could've passed for a laugh.

      "I feel like I could. Arthur has practically made me do all the work on this trip." Lancelot sent him an amused glance, but it morphed back into a serious one.

      "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" Merlin gave a slight shake of his head, but once glance at his friend said that he wasn't going to drop the subject.

      "In one week, it marks the anniversary of the death of Fre-... of someone I loved." Lancelot nodded, encouraging his friend to go on. "She was amazing, Lancelot. I loved her. I loved her so much that I was going to leave Camelot to be with her. We were going to find a home with a mountains, a few fields, wildflowers, a couple of cows, and- and-" Merlin felt his breath hitch. He could practically hear Freya's voice saying it in his head. "And a lake. We were going to be happy." Lancelot looked at the ground, trying to process his friend's words.

      "What happened to her?"

      "She was killed." Merlin could hear his voice become sharp. "She was killed, and it wasn't even her fault. She'd been cursed to become a terrible beast at night. She attacked the knights of Camelot, and Arthur-" Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat as Lancelot watched his friend with wide eyes. "Arthur killed her. He didn't know it wasn't her fault."