#i really loved the stand off between arthur and morgana that man has cried so much recently and he still cries for her

[like-sands-of-time]

What the hell?? When/why/how would Kilgharrah let aithusa far from his sight ??? Let alone be anywhere near Morgana to heal her ?

Surely the writers weren't forgetting they said Morgana can't be killed by a mortal weapon? The sword wouldn't have been enough to kill her, just make it so she has to magically heal herself right?

And Are they not going against their own dragon lore by saying aithusa would go to anyone but Merlin or Kilgharrah? I thought the reveal was gonna be Mordred finding her but this doesn't even make sense . At least that explains why they just forgot about the dragon for the entire rest of the season bc that really seemed out of character for Merlin. That's a connection to his father right there, he wouldn't miss the opportunity to experience something his father had, watching a dragon grow up, teaching him how to speak, bonding

(also I can't believe the whole of Camelot was in the forest and nobody saw the great dragon flying overhead several times and LANDING NEARBY)

I keep hoping for this great battle between Merlin and Morgana, an actual show of powers like they keep giving us glimpses but then it'll fizzle out. Even in emrys/dragoon form he still only temporarily takes her magic at the end. This is Morganas second attempt at the throne, there were so many times Arthur could have died.

I know it's about not wanting to kill her, wishing she would return to who she was etc. But She's done so much and to so many, far more than Nimueh ever did and he killed her. I love her but it's almost insulting to her own powers to keep dragging it out isn't it? This isn't Harry Potter... Back again once a year for a murder attempt.

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Things Remembered

Pairing: Loki x Female reader (who is more than she seems)

fandom: MCU (takes place post-Thor: The Dark World)

word count: 1,921

TW: brief mentions of death, mostly hurt/comfort, some angst, a bit of romance

Notes: My first fan fic on Tumblr! This was inspired by a dream I had where I was wandering through an abandoned Marvel themed amusement park. The imagery was so vivid that the next day I was searching Google to find out if it was a real place. It’s not, but I did learn about a lot of other abandoned amusement parks in the US, Europe, and Japan, and looked at a lot of creepy pictures. Comments/Constructive Criticism are welcome! Otherwise, please enjoy!

I starred up at the chained wrought-iron gates of the old abandoned amusement park. I still wasn’t entirely sure what it was that had drawn me here, but I knew, deep down, that it was important. I had seen it my dreams, or were they visions? I wasn’t sure anymore. Even my memories weren’t reliable. There were the ones that were mine, and then there were the ones that weren’t, but they felt so real, like things that had happened. But if that was the case, why didn’t I remember them happening to me, in my lifetime? It was almost as if they belonged to someone else, in another life, in another time.

I peered through the bars into the front entrance of the park. The building that had once served as the box office was boarded up. Most of the paint had chipped away, and it looked like moss and mold were growing in spots. The roof looked like one strong gust of wind would be enough to tear it off.

I turned my attention to the gate and the padlocked chain that was supposed to be holding it shut. I’d done my research beforehand and knew from various urban explorer blogs that breaking in would be the easy part. I reached up and grabbed onto the iron bars, pushing one side of the gate away from me and the other side towards me. The chain didn’t put up any resistance and soon there was an opening big enough for me to slip between. I was in.

The ground was squishy under my feet from the morning’s rain. The skies above were still gray and threatening to storm. I shivered and pulled my coat tighter around me. I gave myself kudos for remembering to wear an old pair of boots. At least my feet would stay warm and dry. I glanced at remains of the park around me and started walking, making a point of staying alert and keeping an eye out for other trespassers.

It wasn’t long before I was approaching what used to be the Grand Fountain. The standing water that was still the fountain reeked of mold and mildew. The old white marble was cracked and crumbling. What a shame, I thought, I used to throw pennies in this fountain. I looked up at the hand painted billboard above the fountain. It was faded, but I could still make out the image of an older, white haired gentleman, with a salt and pepper mustache and glasses. Next to his smiling face were the words: “Excelsior, True Believers!” The man had once been the park’s founder and owner. After he had died the park had been sold to a group of investors. They had promised all sorts of updates and renovations, but none of it had ever materialized, and the park had fallen further into disrepair and debt, until it had been closed for good.

Next, I passed by the bumper cars. I stopped again, sighing gloomily at the sight of it. The cars were all sitting haphazardly in the middle of the floor. Red and gold, purple and green, red, white, and blue, and my favorite, the red and black one; all completely unmoving. It just didn’t feel right, none of this did. I forced myself to turn away and keep moving deeper into the park, closer to my ultimate destination.

A few minutes later I saw it, the Ferris Wheel, aka The Galactus. Painted purple and blue, it has once been the centerpiece of the park. Whatever voice had been calling to me in my dreams, it had been calling me from here. And then, almost as if someone had flipped a switch, the Ferris Wheel lit up and music began to play. It was now or never. I walked up to the entrance of the ride, and that’s when I saw him.

He was tall, with long black hair and a regal air about him. His face was angular and handsome in an other-worldly sense. His eyes, oh his eyes, they were piercing, haunting; I could get lost in those eyes. He smiled when he saw me and held out a hand to me.

“Welcome, my darling, so glad you finally made it. Won’t you step aboard?” He gestured with his other hand towards an open pod on the Ferris Wheel.

“It’s you,” I breathed, “you’re the voice that’s been calling to me.” I was sure I’d never met this man before, but he seemed so familiar, felt so familiar. I trusted him, I felt safe with him. I took his hand and let him pull me up onto the ride’s platform. It was strong, yet gentle. I gazed into his eyes as he lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

“My beloved, I’ve searched for you for so long,” he said, gazing back into my eyes. I followed him into the pod and sat down on the cold metal seat, He seated himself across from me, and closed the door. I heard the click of the metal lock latching shut, and then lurched forward as the Ferris Wheel began to move. My companion quickly reached out and grabbed my arm to steady me. “It’s alright my love, it’s quite safe. I would never allow any harm to come you.”

“Who are you?” I demanded, finally finding my voice. “What’s going on? How do you know me? Why do I feel like I know, even though I’m pretty bloody sure that I’ve never met you before?”

“All your questions will be answered, my love, but first, let me ask you: have you been having troubling dreams? Perhaps snippets of memory that aren’t necessarily yours, and yet, they feel like they are?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh, my dear,” he replied with a chuckle, “I know everything about you; who you were before, every life you’ve lived along the way up until now; every time I’ve gotten so close to reaching you, only to have death rip you away from me… tell me, do you believe in curses? Magic? Reincarnation?”

“I…I don’t know…maybe? A little? What does that have to do with anything?”

The Ferris Wheel suddenly stopped, with the two of us now stuck at the top. I had a moment of panic, looking down at the ground, and then back at the dark-haired man. He took my hand and held it between both of his.

“Calm yourself, my love, it’s fine. I just want to talk to you.”

“Fine?!” I cried. “How the bloody hell is this fine? Who are you? What do you want with me?”

“I want you to remember who you really are,” he said, and then, placing a hand under my chin, “Search your mind. Surely, you must remember me; you must remember us, and Camelot.”

“Camelot? Every UK child knows the stories of Camelot,” I told him. “My own memories are...confusing. It feels like there’s a wall around my mind. But there are cracks in that wall, and whenever I try to look between the cracks, that’s when I see things… I see me, living other lives. I have different names and different clothes, but it’s always me.” I raised my eyes to meet his. “I really do feel like I know you. I feel some strange connection with you, and I feel like it’s right there…like the answer is right there where the wall is, but I can’t break through to it.”

“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “The wall in your mind! Break the wall, break the curse! It’s already falling apart, so in theory, one good wrecking ball should be enough to shatter it. Oh Merlin, you lazy bastard, you let your own curse grow weak with time.” He pulled my face close so that it was merely centimeters from his. “I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to sound insane, impossible even, but I swear that every word is true. Do you trust me?” I nodded, tears starting to fall down my face. He gently brushed one away with his thumb. “Good. The truth is, that in your first life, your real life, you are Morgana Pendragon, half sister to Arthur, rightful Queen upon the throne of Camelot, my one true love, mother of our children, the most powerful sorceress that ever lived. I need you to remember! Wake up, Morgana! Wake up!”

He placed his fingers on my temples and something inside my head snapped. I felt the mental wall shatter and was blinded by a shining gold and green light. My head snapped back. Excruciating pain swept through me and I felt a scream escape my throat. And then I felt myself rising into the air. I heard the rumble of thunder above me and pain in my body was replaced by a strange, yet oh so familiar energy. And I remembered. I remembered everything.

One memory flashed after another: Camelot, Loki, my brother Arthur, and Merlin. Bloody fucking Merlin. His and my brother’s betrayal shown most vividly. That betrayal that had led to the slaughter of my two beautiful sons, and my own death at the stake. Merlin has cursed me while I burned, cursed me to be reborn over and over again, and die young if any inkling of my former life dared to bleed through. But as any well-versed magic wielder will tell you, curses will weaken if not maintained by the caster. Centuries has gone by, and every year Merlin’s curse had grown weaker, and little by little, the cracks had begun to form. And now my bonds were broken. I knew who I was, and I felt my magic flowing through me again as I levitated above the Ferris Wheel.

I was shocked out of my reverie, and thrown out of the sky, when a bolt of lightning broke through the storm clouds and hit me square in the back. I fell, but instead of hitting the ground I was caught but a pair of strong, comforting arms. I looked up to see my lover’s face looking back at me, full of deep concern.

“My love, Morgana, are you alright?”

“Loki?” I inquired, my voice shaking. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, my love, it’s me. I’m here, I’ve got you now, you’re safe,” he answered, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“You found me,” I said, reaching up and caressing his cheek with my fingertips.

“Of course, I found you,” he replied, “I never gave up hope that we would be together again. I swear that I’ll never let anyone take you from me again.” His lips met mine in the most loving of kisses. He was mine, and I was his, and no one would ever tear us apart again. But a question was still rolling around in my brain, and when we broke apart, I looked him straight in the eye and voiced it aloud:

“Loki, where the bloody hell is Merlin?”

 TO BE CONTINUED?

 Post Credits Scene:

Somewhere, on a small Mediterranean island, sat an older gentleman drinking espresso in a café. He was actually much older than he looked, but you wouldn’t think it to look at him. The darkening clouds and a rumble of thunder drew his eyes skyward. The energy in the air around him changed, and his brow furrowed. And then he felt it: a curse, specifically his curse, had at long last been broken. She was awake, and she would be coming for his head…

[boykisserbuckley]

oh oh oh i love this so much. how about bbc merlin/merthur + time loop :O

I got ridiculously carried away with this lmaoo I hope you like it!!

(we’re playing fanfic bingo if anyone wants to join!)

Merlin is getting really tired of evil sorceresses. There’s so many of them! Why are there so many? As if Morgana wasn’t bad enough, now they’ve got to deal with another? Really? 

Sure, magic is cool and all, but not when it’s being used against him. Magic is good for making his bed, or scrubbing the floor, or pranking Arthur—magic is not good for shooting him or Arthur with fireballs. He’s over it. He’s done with magic. 

You hear that, you ridiculously vague dragon? Done. With. It. Merlin thinks, in the general direction of Kilgharrah, as if the dragon would actually hear him. Who knows? Maybe that’s one of his abilities. It’s not like he would inform Merlin of that, if it was. That dragon is infuriating, at the best of times. 

“Merlin! Duck!” Arthur bellows, bringing Merlin back to the present just in time to dodge another spell heading his way. Damn, how fast can this woman pull these spells out? Even he can’t do magic this fast. They’ve barely had an opening to fight back, with the speed at which she’s been throwing things at them. 

The sorceress whips around to face Arthur again the second Merlin hits the ground. She brings some sort of shielding spell up to block his sword as it swings down towards her. The sword catches on the warding and bounces off, the force of the collision throwing it from Arthur’s hand and into the grass, just out of reach. 

Time seems to slow as Merlin watches the sword fall, watches the witch bring her hands up to cast again, watches the magic forming between her palms turn dark and ugly. That’s not just a spell, Merlin realizes as it builds. That’s the beginnings of a curse. 

And she’s about to hit Arthur. 

Merlin is back on his feet and moving before he even consciously recognizes what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what this will do to him, but he doesn’t really care. All that matters is that he has the means to break this curse, whatever happens, and Arthur doesn’t. He sees the moment Arthur registers what’s about to hit him, eyes going wide, and Merlin is in front of him barely a second later.

“Merlin!” Arthur cries in alarmed protest, but he’s too late. The crackling ball of magic strikes Merlin in the middle of the chest, sending him stumbling back into Arthur, and they both crash to the ground. Merlin feels like it should hurt. Magic like that should hurt, right? 

But it doesn’t hurt. He just fades, vision greying out before he can focus on Arthur speaking to him. He thinks, worth it, and then he’s gone. 

~~~

Merlin wakes up. He opens his eyes to the ceiling of his room in Gaius’ tower, feels the scratchy blankets beneath him, and surprisingly, he doesn’t feel like shit. Maybe he was wrong, and that blast wasn’t actually a curse? He can’t claim to be all-knowing when it comes to magic, so he can’t always be sure. He feels fine, at least right now, so maybe nothing happened? 

He hops out of bed and heads for the main room, looking for Gaius. He finds the man at the table, spooning oatmeal into a couple of bowls. He looks up when Merlin enters. 

“Ah, Merlin,” Gaius says mildly, “Just in time.” 

“Oatmeal again, Gaius?” Merlin groans, slumping down onto the bench and grabbing for his bowl. Gaius gives him a confused glance. 

“Again?” 

Merlin doesn’t get a chance to respond, because less than a second later Arthur comes barreling through the door in a nearly identical fashion to the way he’d come bursting in yesterday. Deja vu, Merlin thinks, and shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth before Arthur can pull him to his feet like Merlin is absolutely certain he’s going to. The idea of a curse is all but forgotten because he feels fine, really, and Arthur is hauling on his arm just like he did yesterday and rambling on about a sorceress, again. Do these women ever take a day off? 

It’s not until they’re out on a trail into the forests surrounding Camelot, searching for this sorceress, that Merlin realizes they’re heading in the same direction as yesterday. It’s possible that Arthur hadn’t defeated her yesterday after Merlin had passed out, and they’re just looking for her again to finish the fight—but things are starting to feel a little too familiar. The feeling grows as they circle closer to where the witch is hiding out; Merlin knows this area, knows they were here just yesterday, because it’s the exact same spot. Wouldn’t she have moved? 

Merlin pulls his horse up short, wanting to call out to Arthur and ask what exactly they were doing back here, but he never gets the chance. Arthur shouts from somewhere ahead of him, followed by a blast of heat and light that Merlin can feel even from where he stands. Merlin knows, before it happens, that Arthur’s horse is going to come bursting through the brush, but Arthur won’t be riding it. It will race past him and his own horse will startle, and he’ll have to wrestle with the reins to keep it under control, just like he did yesterday. Unless, it wasn’t yesterday? His deja vu has grown to epic proportions, and he knows exactly what’s going to happen right before it happens. It’s like he remembers it.

Almost as if he’s lived through it before. 

Merlin remembers the curse, then. Or at least, what he thought was a curse. It’s feeling more and more like it was a curse, because he’s apparently living through yesterday a second time, and he’s the only one who knows. Which means he’s the only one who knows what this sorceress is about to try to do to Arthur, too. 

The next few things happen in quick succession; Merlin dismounts and heads towards where he’d seen Arthur disappear, the sorceress throws a spell that blasts past his ear—only missing him because he remembers what it felt like to get hit with it before, and he manages to dodge this time—and before Merlin knows it they’re back where this all started. 

The sorceress forces Arthur’s sword from his hand, again, and winds up to toss the black ball of magic between her palms. Merlin doesn’t even hesitate this time. He slides himself between Arthur and the curse before the sorceress has even finished throwing it. He thinks he catches a flash of a knowing smirk on her face before it collides, and he’s slammed into darkness. 

~~~

Merlin wakes up. He opens his eyes to the ceiling of his room in Gaius’ tower, feels the scratchy blankets beneath him, and—wait. He’s done this before. 

He sits up and listens, and sure enough, he can hear Gaius muttering to himself about oatmeal in the next room. He climbs off the bed and steps out, knowing what he’ll see before he sees it: Gaius ladling oatmeal into two bowls at the table, and he’ll turn around once he notices Merlin and say—

“Ah, Merlin. Just in time.” 

Okay, so Merlin was right. This is definitely a curse, and he’s doomed to repeat the same day unless he can find a way to break the loop. Hopefully, that won’t be a big deal. 

Merlin just smiles at Gaius and accepts the oatmeal, making a show of eating a few mouthfuls as he listens for Arthur to come bursting through the door and haul him off to fight the sorceress in the woods. Again. 

Everything repeats. Arthur leads him out into the forest, they find the witch, she throws the curse; Merlin barely has enough time to think, let alone figure out how to break this loop he’s stuck in. Maybe doing something differently than before will throw it off? Worth a try, right? 

So he pushes Arthur out of the way rather than just standing in front of him. Yeah, it’s not much, but he’s working on a tight schedule here. Arthur hits the ground and the curse hits Merlin, and down he goes. 

~~~

Merlin wakes up. He sighs, frustrated, and tries again. He tries again, and again, and again. He wakes up again, and again, and again. No matter what he changes, the loop repeats. He wakes up in his bed and heads off into the woods and fights this sorceress, over and over again. 

It’s not always exactly the same. It starts the same, usually, with the oatmeal and the horses getting spooked and Arthur’s shout from ahead of him. But sometimes, the ending changes. Merlin is sure by about the fifth loop that the sorceress knows what’s happening, that she must be outside of the loop somehow, because she looks so smug when he arrives, every time. She seems to like switching it up, throwing him off when she can. It’s not always the curse that hits him. Sometimes it’s a blast of fire, a wave of red hot agony. Sometimes it’s lightning, crackling across his skin and leaving trails of burning pain. 

She gets creative, once, and pulls a glowing sword out of thin air. He’d be impressed, if she hadn’t used it to slice him nearly in half. That one took the longest before he’d looped—he’d heard her laughing as he bled out, with Arthur trying desperately to keep pressure on the wound. He’d died choking on his own blood, that time. Or, well, not really? He’s not dead anymore, because the day restarted, again. 

Merlin is so tired. He’s lost count by now of how many times he’s woken up. He’s lost track of what he’s tried to change, because nothing is working. He’s sure by now he’s tried everything, run through a million different versions of this day, and the only constant is that he makes sure that he saves Arthur every time. That, at least, he refuses to change. If the only way to break this curse is to let Arthur take it on? No way. That’s not even an option, really. Merlin will keep looping forever if he has to. He’s not about to let Arthur get hurt. 

~~~

Merlin wakes up. He forces himself out of his bed, ignores the oatmeal, and meets Arthur halfway down the corridor. He follows Arthur into the forest, dodges the blast of magic that flies past his ear, and sneers at the witch when she smiles knowingly at him. 

He doesn’t want to do this. Maybe if he doesn’t dodge this next spell, maybe if he lets it hit him before she can throw the curse again—

But Arthur is in front of him, sword raised, before he’s even finished that thought. Merlin startles, eyes widening. The sorceress has her arm poised and ready to strike, but this is different, this is new, and Merlin is supposed to be protecting Arthur, not the other way around, and he can’t let Arthur get hit, he can’t. 

Everything is happening so fast and Merlin doesn’t know how to stop it, and the witch is grinning at them, and then she cuts her arm through the air and an arc of light barrels towards them, like a blade meant to slice them in two. 

“Arthur, no–” Merlin starts, shoving at him, but Arthur plants himself and refuses to move. All Merlin can do is watch, and hope desperately that this won’t end the way he thinks it will. The light flashes and Merlin closes his eyes, begging whatever magic is holding him in this loop that he won’t have to watch Arthur die. He hears Arthur grunt and shift in front of him, and he wants to wake up, wake up, wake up. 

Merlin doesn’t wake up. Instead, to his surprise, he hears a shriek of pain that’s distinctly not Arthur, and pries his eyes open again to see the sorceress halfway across the clearing with a smoldering, blackened wound carved deep into her chest. 

Arthur is still in front of him, breathing hard, and grimacing down at what used to be his sword. The blade is drooping, half molten, and he drops it with a hiss when the hot metal bites through his glove. Apparently, he’d used his sword to deflect the spell back onto the witch.

“I wasn’t sure that would work,” he muses, and turns to look Merlin over. “You alright, Merlin?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Merlin manages, with less anger than he really meant for it to hold. He smacks Arthur halfheartedly on the arm. “You could’ve died.” 

Arthur shrugs and says, “Yeah. But I didn’t.” 

Merlin laughs, half hysterical. This man is unbelievable. He doesn’t know what to do with him. Arthur gives him a funny look, before turning and leading the way back to the horses. He snatches his sword up again on the way, under the pretense that the castle armory can melt it down the rest of the way and use the metal again. 

Merlin trails after him in a bit of a daze, confused by the fact that all of this is new. None of it has happened before. He doesn’t want to let himself hope, but when they’re back at the castle and he’s climbing into bed for the first time in who knows how long, he can’t help it. Maybe, just maybe, killing the witch had broken his curse?

~~~

Merlin wakes up. Tentatively, he gets out of bed and heads for the main room. When he peeks past his door, he sees Gaius by the table, with two bowls set out. He grimaces and looks, hesitantly, over Gaius’ shoulder to see what he’s holding. 

Merlin doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see a pot of soup in his life. 

[toocool2btrue]

All you need is Strength, Loyalty and Magic

Chapter Three: The White Lily

The swords clashed against one another and Lancelot took a step back panting heavily as he looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes. The king didn’t look any better, his face was red with exertion but there was fire in his cool blue eyes. Neither of them was ready to give up just yet and hence the fight continued. “I love this,” Gwaine declared, taking a bite of his apple as he watched the training take place from the sidelines. “I know! Both of them are so skilled. I can’t seem to figure out who will win” Merlin whispered from beside him, his eyes keenly following the fight.

“It’s not just that. This whole scene feels like I am watching a scene out of a poem, two men who are in love with the same woman fighting each other. You can practically feel the tension between them” Gwaine giddily stated as Merlin punched his shoulder, “You idiot! I told you that in confidence. Stop announcing it here!” he hissed. Gwaine heartily chuckled, “Ok but still as if it isn't obvious on it’s own. I now understood why I myself never stood a chance, who would want to go against such a handsome man and...Arthur” Gwaine disdainfully stated. “Honestly speaking...he hasn’t got a lot going for him but at least he is the King” Gwaine chuckled and Merlin found himself laughing as well.

“Speaking of which..” Gwaine said, nudging Merlin’s shoulder. “What’s going on between Gwen and Arthur? I have barely seen them together” He added and Merlin’s brows rose up in surprise, he forgot how dangerously observant Gwaine could be. “I don’t know” Merlin replied, shrugging his shoulders. He really hadn’t got the time to notice such things, it had become busier than usual with Arthur’s extra duties as King, his apprenticeship with Gauis and now the nightly hangouts with his friends. Gwen had her hands full as well ever since Arthur had made her the head of the royal household. “They are perhaps too busy with their duties. You should see Arthur at dinner, he can barely keep his eyes open but other than that I am sure everything is just fine” Merlin assured. By the time they turned back to the fight, Arthur had managed to defeat Lancelot but as opposed to what Gwaine had stated, there existed no grave tension among them and Arthur’s eyes glinted with pride at his knight’s progress.

“You are up next, Gwaine!!” Arthur shouted, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Finally!” Gwaine grinned as Merlin handed him his sword. “I will avenge you, dear friend” He said to Lancelot, who slowly walked towards them. Lancelot gave Gwaine a small smile, gratefully accepting the glass of water from Merlin. “Well I already exhausted him so your part will be easy” he cheekily stated, swiftly avoiding Gwaine’s playful punch whilst throwing a wink at Merlin. “Well I think you did great! I was pretty sure Arthur was gonna lose but then again-” Merlin abruptly stopped his babbling when he realized that Lancelot wasn’t even listening. There was a far off look in his eyes and when he followed his best friend’s gaze, he spotted Gwen standing several feet away from the training observing Gwaine and Arthur fight.

“You lost on purpose didn’t you?” Merlin questioned, narrowing his eyes. Lancelot jumped at his accusation, his cheeks flushed for being caught red handed but he still stubbornly shook his head. “No! Arthur’s just fought better than me” he excused, his eyes dancing around the surroundings in effort to avoid Merlin’s gaze. Merlin sighed, deciding to give his hopelessly in love yet devoted to his King friend a break. “So do you think Gwaine will be able to avenge you?” Merlin asked, nudging his shoulder. Lancelot smirked in response, “Well I certainly hope so”                            ________________________________________

 “So you see sister” Morgause grinned, as Lancelot’s face flashed in the crystal ball. “Sir Lancelot is Arthur’s most trusted knight and even one of his closest friends. There is no way Arthur would ever suspect him being the traitor to Camelot” Morgause informed, turning back to Morgana who smiled in agreement. “Even Arthur’s nosy manservant, Merlin is awfully fond of the commoner and would never go against him but..sister your plan has a great flaw to it. Lancelot would never willingly join us and betray Arthur” Morgana protested.

“Who says there will be any will involved?” Morgause smirked. “We will torture him till his mind breaks and then he will become nothing more than a puppet who will do our bidding” she explained. A faint shiver went down Morgana’s spine at Morgause’s cold words. “How will you lure him here?” she questioned and in response Morgause smirked. “If Arthur has Lancelot, that doesn’t we lack when it comes to loyal servants. Dear sister, it's time you meet my most gifted disciple”

“Elaine!” Morgause shouted at the cave’s entrance. “Come inside” she ordered and Morgana’s eyes widened in surprise when a girl around her age stepped inside, she had long strawberry blonde hair which strung into loose curls and captivating dark brown eyes. “My lady, you called for me?” Elaine asked softly, her voice was barely more than a whisper. Morguase nodded, “Dear Elaine, I have finally a mission that is worthy of your talents. Go to Camelot and lure Sir Lancelot to the abandoned castle. We will be waiting for you there”

“I’ll do as you desire” Elaine promised, the determination evident in her eyes as she bowed to Morguase. Morgana could see the pride evident in Morgause’s eyes, who stepped forward and handed Elaine a silver pendant. “This will greatly aid you in your quest now...don’t fail me” Morguase warned with a sudden flick of anger. “I would rather die” came the unwavering reply.

                                                               _________________________________________

 “You know what’s the best thing about being a knight?” Gwaine asked Elyan as they walked through the markets. Elyan quirked up a brow in amusement as he tried to balance the basket of fresh fruits he had received alongside the other small trinkets. “The honor of fighting alongside your King?” he teased. “No the free gifts!!” Gwaine protested, stealing another red apple from Elyan’s basket. “Hey! you have your own” Elyan reminded, his eyes narrowing towards Gwaine’s own supply.

“If I eat from mine then I’ll run out before midday besides it’s not like you actually like apples” Gwaine reminded him. “I don’t but they are Gwen’s favourite and she will be very happy to see them” Elyan explained. Gwaine slumped in defeat, “Fine keep your fruits. I’ll just go and get Lancelot's share” Gwaine decided, walking towards his other friend who was trying to kindly decline the baker’s offer of freshly baked bread. The knights of Camelot were already adored by the common people but it was no secret that the people held a special regard for those knights who once used to be commoners themselves. Whenever they visited the market on a day off, they were showered with various gifts ranging from food, at times fruits from foreign lands and even materials for clothes. Gwaine and Elyan wholeheartedly accepted each present while Lancelot and Percival were more reluctant in that matter. If by chance, the gift was being given by a fair maiden then Lancelot would kindly refuse to take it without a second thought leaving many young women heartbroken. Today would have been no different if Gwaine didn’t intervene. It all started when the pair was bickering about the fruits, “All I am saying is that I am willing to trade you the apples for your share of strawberries and black berries” Lancelot stated.

Gwaine huffed in annoyance, flicking his hair back. “You didn’t even want to take the fruit basket. Why all the deals now?” Gwaine wondered. “I didn’t know at first that it contained strawberries and blackberries before. Those are Merlin’s favorite” Lancelot informed and Gwaine’s face lit in remembrance. “Well if it’s for Merlin then I am willing to compromise” Gwaine agreed. Lancelot rolled his eyes bringing his basket forward, “How noble of you, Sir Gwaine” he sarcastically stated but before the exchange could take place, the pair was interrupted by a soft cough.

The friends turned around to find a beautiful young woman standing before them. At first the pair parted, making space for her to go pass them but she made no effort to do so. Instead she stood there with a nervous look in her eyes and that's when Gwaine noticed the bouquet of white lilies clutched tightly in her hands. He briefly glanced at his friend who seemed equally enchanted by the maiden before them and even she shyly glanced in Lancelot's direction in return. It was clear for whom the flowers were meant for, "Sir Lancelot.." she finally began, clearing her throat in nervousness. "Please accept these flowers as a token of gratitude for your services" she stated, pushing the bouquet towards him. By now Lancelot was broken from his enchantment and just as he was about to shake his head, Gwaine decided to step in. He had already heard Merlin's theory of Lancelot purposely losing and was tired of seeing his friend in such emotional distress.

"Would you give us a moment?" he interrupted, dragging his friend away. Lancelot felt deeply puzzled by his actions, "What are you doing?" he hissed at Gwaine. "Saving you from making another stupid mistake. Look Lance I know you are noble and all but why the hell do you reject every girl that shows interest in you?" he cried out in frustration.

"You already gave up Gwen for her happiness. What's stopping you from achieving your own? Are you waiting for Gwen? Do you want her to leave the freaking King and come to you?" Gwaine furiously questioned as Lancelot vigorously shook his head. "No I would never dream of that" he sincerely stated as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "Then are you making yourself go through this emotional torture. You literally have one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, offering you flowers. You go there and accept those flowers!” Gwaine ordered.

“But-” Lancelot began to protest but Gwaine’s glare was enough to shut him up. His friend was only looking after him, Lancelot couldn’t disagree with his logic either, it was a high time that he tried to move on and as he glanced back at the lady, their eyes met and once again Lancelot found himself going brain going blank, all thoughts and worries were erased from his mind and nothing else in the world seemed to matter aside from the fair lady in front of him. “Fine” he agreed, sparingly glancing at Gwaine before walking towards her.

Gwaine him with a wide grin on his face as Lancelot accepted the lilies and then kissed the top of the maiden's hand in gratitude. The maiden blushed furiously, radiating with happiness. After that they talked briefly and Gwaine had to admire his friend's skills, for a guy who was so reluctant a few seconds ago now was quite smoothly able to converse with his admirer. Gwaine made his way to Elyan and Percival who seemed frozen in shock at the sight. “Please don’t tell me this is all part of a dream, I really like my gifts” Elyan groaned. Percival numbly nodded in agreement, He had known Lancelot the longest and yet never seen him act like this before.

Gwaine grinned wider, crossing his arms against his chest. He couldn’t wait to tell Merlin what he had managed to accomplish.

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