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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 10 months

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Mercelot Week 2023 Day 6: Ocean/Missing Clothes (When Love Was An Act Of Defiance Sneak Peak)

In which Lancelot doesn't die and that changes... well, not that much, actually. Up until it does.

<< That's what the summary would be IF I HAD A COMPLETE FIC TO POST. These are sneak peaks posted as part of Mercelot Week 2023.

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Nothing to make you feel lov-warm and fuzzy like your bro buddy lending you his jacket. Literally, nothing but warm fuzzy feelings here, hahaha. So, about that Caerleon…

Fill for Day 6: Ocean/Missing Clothes! From ep His Father's Son (4x05) or "I'm Sorry, For I Never Felt Like Anybody". These are a few scenes put together. Um. Implied off-scene violence. Also, what do I even tag for Agravaine? Just uhhh watch out for manipulation and isolation.

Ao3

“So,” Merlin said, when Lancelot walked up to where he was rooting around his bag. “Not Odin.”

“I heard.” He glanced back to the group of knights he’d left guarding their prisoners. “Men from Caerleon.”

“Not only Caerleon’s men — King Caerleon himself was found among them.” Merlin gestured back. His cape swished with his arm and exposed the armour he wore underneath.

“Huh.”

“Arthur is here as well,” he pointed out.

Lancelot looked back at his face and blinked. He thought back, trying to figure out where that comment had come from and how to answer it.

“True,” he said eventually, “but there’s a difference between taking part in a military endeavor that could affect the peace of two kingdoms and going along on a raid of a border patrol— what are you doing?”

Merlin finished unlacing his cape and folded it into his bag. “Well, it’s all a bit heavy.”

Lancelot watched him fumble with one vambrace, then the other.

“We are still a way from the castle,” he said, eyes on Merlin's hands as he took off his belt.

“Yes, but…” he pressed his lips together before spreading them in a rueful smile. “Everyone’s staring at me. It’s fine,” he chuckled when Lancelot shifted guiltily. “I get it. I look a little ridiculous like this.”

“No, you don’t,” Lancelot denied at once. Maybe even with too much force, he reflected, when a few knights turn around.

“Odd, then,” Merlin conceded. He pulled his chainmail up to his head, but it kept falling and getting caught on his nose, so he couldn’t get it off.

“You’re wrong,” Lancelot insisted, grabbing the chainmail himself. “No one’s laughing at you.”

Merlin blinked owlishly at him, his hair in disarray, and Lancelot contradicted himself immediately.

“That was easier to put on,” Merlin defended himself, patting his hair down. He started tugging at the lacings of his gambeson and sighed. “See, this? This I will miss. It’s so warm.”

“So keep it,” Lancelot shrugged. “At least, until we get back. It’s not like I need two of them.”

Merlin slowed down. “Are you sure?” He played with the strings some more, but he didn’t unlace them. He kept arguing half-heartedly, “It’ll be weird, me doing the dishes, dressed like a noble.”

“No, you know what actually looks ridiculous?” Lancelot reached up to scrub Merlin’s face, but stopped when he realized that he was wearing gloves. He gestured to it instead. “You have half the Plains on your face, you rascal, you should clean up.” Merlin laughed and Lancelot couldn’t keep up his nagging front, cracking up as well. “I mean it!”

“It’s not worth it!” Merlin ran the back of his hand through his cheeks, smudging the dirt there instead of cleaning it. “I’ll just get dirty again!”

“Do you like having dirt on your face?” Merlin shook his head, still laughing and rubbing, so Lancelot shrugged. “Then clean it and, if it gets dirty again, clean it again.”

“It sounds like common sense when you say it.” Merlin dropped his hands and sighed. “Alright, but can you go sit with Arthur while I run to the river?”

Lancelot was a little confused at his apparent belief that the king needed to be babysat, but he wasn’t going to argue. He looked around.

“Where is he?” Lancelot frowned at Arthur’s absence.

“Agravaine’s convinced him they need to set up their own camp away from the rest to discuss Caerleon privately,” Merlin sneered.

“Really.”

“They’ve set up guards, too.” He pointed to a fire a little way off.

Lancelot blew out a breath. “Sure, I’ll go.”

“Thanks. Too much time alone with Agravaine and he might decide to build his own castle to protect state secrets,” Merlin quipped before walking away, leaving Lancelot to control his laughter.

He was still sniggering when he came upon the guards around Arthur and Agravaine’s fire. One made to raise his axe, but he changed his mind with a roll of his eyes and let him through.

“We're not on the borders now, Agravaine. This is the heart of the kingdom. He took a grave risk coming here,” Arthur was saying, incensed.

“Perhaps he doesn't see it that way,” Agravaine suggested. Arthur’s whole stance demanded an explanation, so he went on, “I fear it's no coincidence that all this has happened since Uther's death.”

“What do you mean?”

“Arthur, your father was a strong king,” Agravaine extolled. “His enemies feared and respected that strength.”

“Are you saying I'm not worthy of that respect?” Arthur challenged.

“No, sire, not at all,” Agravaine soothed, the very image of deference. “There isn't a citizen of Camelot who would not lay down their life for you.” He stood up and continued emphatically, “But your enemies...to the enemies of Camelot, you are still untested as a king. You must send a clear message that any action against Camelot will be met without mercy.”

“Did we not achieve that here today?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, Agravaine,” Lancelot cut in at last. “We’ve just curtailed a raiding operation that’s been going on for months, led by the king of a renowned warrior nation. Whatever they thought they could achieve here, we’ve proved them wrong.”

Arthur accepted his presence with no more than a slight start, but Agravaine shot a glance at the guards, as if wondering how he’d gotten past.

“Have we?” he disagreed. “Will this be enough to deter the likes of Odin, who is still at large,” he reminded Arthur, “and Bayard and the countless others who covet Camelot's wealth?”

“We don’t know that they’re our enemies, but that will change if we treat them as such,” Lancelot cautioned.

To his dismay, Arthur raised a hand to quiet him and turned to his uncle.

“Well, what do you suggest?”

“I suggest that we force him to accept a treaty on our terms,” Agravaine bid in an urgent tone, stepping closer to Arthur for full effect. “He must withdraw his men from our land, return our territories to us.”

Arthur shared a look with Lancelot. He was forced to agree to the wisdom of the plan. It was something Caerleon would’ve had to do either way after his defeat, but setting them as release terms would put the power wholly on Arthur’s hands. Agravaine glanced his way as well, an indecipherable flicker on his face.

“He must surrender Everwick,” he went on.

Lancelot almost choked on air, letting out a mix between a cough and an incredulous laugh.

“He’d rather die than agree to such terms,” Arthur rejected the idea, gesturing to Lancelot as if he’d made a good argument.

“Then you are left with no choice,” Agravaine concluded with a regretful shake of his head.

“Except for not enforcing terms which you know are unreasonable in the first place,” Lancelot denied, still laughing, but starting to sober up. “What happened to not strangling people with that iron hand?”

“Camelot’s people, of course, but we can’t expect the king to treat everyone like he would his own subjets,” Agravaine mocked, but Lancelot stood firm.

“Can’t he?”

“Sir Lancelot, you’re a good warrior. A good knight,” Agravaine said with an admiring smile. “I wish all men were like you. But they’re not. So we, as statesmen” —he turned back to Arthur, closing Lancelot out— ”must be equal to them.”

“Lancelot’s right, I can't just kill a man in cold blood,” Arthur balked.

“Arthur, you must do what you need to do to assert your authority on this land,” Agravaine insisted.

Arthur shook his head. “Well, there must be another way.”

“There's no other way.” He offered Arthur a look halfway between sympathetic and encouraging. “Think on it. Decide by tomorrow.”

He rose to his feet and left to the knights’ area. Lancelot wondered why he’d insisted on setting the space apart for himself and Arthur if he wasn’t going to use it, but decided there were more important things to worry about.

“You know, you don’t actually have to decide by tomorrow,” he said. Arthur didn’t answer. “We can take him to Camelot. Think through the terms. Even if you decide to go through with Agravaine’s plan and Caerleon refuses, you can take it to the queen—“

“So, I go crying to his wife when he rejects my terms?” Arthur scoffed. “I’ll look weak. Same as if I delay taking action. He’ll think I’m indecisive, or feeble, which…” he let out a barking laugh.

“Well, if he does, he’s wrong,” Lancelot argued, “because you—“

“I need some time to think,” Arthur dismissed him.

Lancelot grit his teeth. Then, he bowed and walked away. At least, he wasn’t leaving him alone with Agravaine.

“Whatever Lancelot’s told you, I hope he didn’t forget to mention that I want peace and quiet,” was how Arthur greeted Merlin when he returned. It was, in fact, pretty much what he’d expected from Lancelot’s description.

“Well, after escaping a horde of angry warriors, so do I,” he shot back, wrangling a snort out of his friend. He didn’t push his good mood, though, setting out his sleeping roll instead. Arthur’d probably realize what a bad idea this was on his own. For his part, Merlin wiggled on the ground, enjoying the added comfort the gambeson provided, and fell asleep at once.

He still didn’t worry when he woke up to the sight of Arthur’s empty, unused roll. He was concerned, sure, but for him, not about him.

He went to the creek, drank some water from Arthur’s cup, then refilled it and brought it to him. It took a couple of tries to get his attention. That he’d let the fire die also spoke to his frame of mind. Still, it’s wasn’t until Merlin saw the pile of kindle to the side, as full as he'd left it the night before, which Arthur would’ve used if he’d noticed that it was needed at all, that his alarm was set off.

He played nonchalant as he worked on the fire.

“You must be cold.” No response but a vague movement of the head. “Have you slept at all?”

“Been thinking.”

“About what Agravaine said?” Merlin prodded.

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Honestly.”

“You would’ve told me anyway,” Merlin defended himself and Lancelot, but Arthur was too busy laughing to pay attention.

“What are you wearing?!” He gestured to him.

Merlin looked down at the gambeson he’d tugged on unconsciously. He shrugged. “It’s cold. He said I could keep it until we got back to Camelot.”

“Of course he did.” Arthur was barely biting down a smile.

“He already brought one for himself,” he pointed out. It was actually feeling rather warm out there, all of a sudden.

“It only makes sense,” Arthur agreed. That is, he should have agreed, since it was the truth, but there was a definite mocking edge to his tone. “He’s so sensible, that Lancelot.”

“He is.” Merlin wished he could say that he pulled them back to Agravaine’s plan because he’d sensed that Arthur was in a more amenable mood, or that it seemed like a good segue. In truth, he was just flustered by Arthur’s mystifying jokes, doubly so by the inkling that they weren't that mystifying at all, so he crushed it all down. “Like his ideas about how to deal with Caerleon.”

“Merlin.” Arthur lost his cheer.

“They’re good,” Merlin insisted. “And they don’t involve murdering someone, which clearly bothers you, if it kept you up all night—“

“They’re good ideas for dealing with Caerleon today,” Arthur said. “They’re not good enough to keep him away. Or anyone who might come after him, who’ll be looking at how I act now for weaknesses." He gave a thoughtful nod. "I must have none. Show that I'm worthy of my father's name.”

“Caerleon won't sign it.” Merlin asserted. Arthur’s jaw twitched, so he pressed, “You know that?”

“Caerleon brought this upon himself,” Arthur declared, voice as steely as he probably wished he was.

“Arthur,” Merlin started, hoping to remind him of the truth. “You've always shown mercy in battle. You've never sought to humiliate your enemy in this way. This isn't like you. This isn't who you are—”

“You have no idea what it is to make these decisions,” Arthur cut him off. “Decisions that will shape the future of this land.”

“Arthur—" There were so many things wrong with that sentence and so many reasons he couldn’t correct it. He didn’t even get to try.

“So, please…” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t get angry. Still, there was no room for argument. "Stick to what you do know.”

He left without another word. After a while of sitting by the fire, Merlin sniffed and took off the gambeson. It was warm enough.

Arthur didn’t order Lancelot to gather the knights and Caerleon for a negotiation meeting. He sent Agravaine to do it. Who informed him of Arthur’s wishes loud enough that everyone heard him and knew, exactly, how the chain of command went. Lancelot grit his teeth against the snub. He told himself he might have known if he’d stuck to Arthur the way Agravaine did, if he’d taught him he could rely on Lancelot the way his uncle had. He reminded himself that Agravaine did outrank him, if not officially as the Constable, then unofficially as Arthur’s closest living relative. He did this quite forcefully when he was handed the roll of parchment Caerleon was too prideful to take so that he could hold it open for him to read.

He also told himself that the disdainful look Agravaine shot them was directed at Caerleon.

He shook his head. These were such small snubs. Everything seemed to irritate him that morning. Against his will, his eyes drifted towards the edge of the clearing, where Merlin was standing, but he dragged them back to Caerleon. This wasn’t the time to obsess over his decision to trade the gambeson for his jacket. Even the justifications he tried to tell himself, like how he might prefer his own clothes’ comfort, had no place at a moment like this.

“You expect me to sign this? To humiliate myself before you?” Caerleon demanded once he finished reading, as if to prove it.

“You invaded our kingdom and took what did not belong to you,” Agravaine accused.

“And if I do not sign?” Caerleon’s whole demeanor was detached. He either thought there would be no actual repercussions for his actions, or he felt so much disdain for them that there wasn't room left for fear.

“Then you will pay, with your life.” Agravaine spoke as if by rote, at least to Lancelot, who knew how he expected this negotiation to go from the start. Besides that, though, there was an unnerving relish in his tone.

Caerleon scoffed. “And who makes these terms?”

The answer to that was obvious, but the act of questioning itself carried quite the punch. To Agravaine, it reminded him that, whatever his posturing, he was still acting on someone else’s orders. To Arthur…

“Arthur Pendragon,” he declared, walking forward at last. “King of Camelot.” He gave no indication that, with a throwaway comment, Caerleon had torn apart the effect he’d wished to create by having his second-in-command speak to him.

A passing thought reminded Lancelot that Arthur was using the same tactic with the enemy king that he’d used on him that morning. He stamped it down. Arthur had just been passing a message along. He hadn’t meant to emphasize Lancelot’s lack of importance. Even if that was what had ended up happening.

Caerleon pushed his arm, still holding up the treaty, out of the way. Percival tried to stop him from stepping towards Arthur, but he shoved him away, too. He kept a derisive sneer at all times, but he wasn’t forceful or even threatening.

“Very well. Then make it quick,” he told Arthur, taking a knee.

Arthur shifted his jaw. Lancelot understood his hesitance. This was what they’d expected to happen all along. In some ways, although he was sure that Arthur didn’t see it that way, being able to not just make the threat, but also carry through with it would be for the best. It would leave no doubt as to their strength, no possible suspicion that they’d been bluffing. And yet, there was a dignity in Caerleon’s bearing, even in his quickness to submit, that made their attempts at a powerplay look like a children’s tantrum.

“Think what you're doing, Caerleon,” Arthur said. “This treaty could seal a truce between us. There would be peace. Like there was between your father and mine.”

Hearing his words, so full of hope for peace, something eased in Lancelot’s chest. He hadn’t been aware before that moment that he’d doubted Arthur’s intentions. If they were going to commit regicide, Lancelot thought wryly, at least it was due to an honest belief that it would be best for the kingdom and not to assuage his ego. It shouldn’t have made as much of a difference for him, but it did.

A pity that Caerleon didn’t appreciate it.

“I am not my father” —he paused, his voice turning contemptuous— “and you are not Uther.” He watched the effect of his words on Arthur, then went on, almost conversationally, “Do you really have the guts to kill me?”

Arthur took a moment to respond. To Lancelot’s trained eye, it was clear that he was still reeling and trying to recover.

“You leave me no other choice,” he said.

“You do not choose anything, boy!” Caerleon finally let go of his temper. Lancelot wondered if Agravaine’s influence was that obvious, when he continued, “It is I who choose to die, and I alone. Now, get on with it.”

He bent over even further, offering up his neck to Arthur. All eyes went to their king, waiting to see what he’d do. There was still time to back down. Not without looking bad, things had gotten too far for that, but dammit, Lancelot thought, maybe that was what Arthur deserved after pushing for this at all. He could fix still it, though.

If he wanted to.

“So be it,” Arthur declared. He unsheathed his sword.

Notes:

No, for real, what do I tag for Agravaine? Made a small change in that last scene from “no choice” to “no other choice” to fit better with Caerleon’s next comment, because like, yeah, he just said that he doesn’t choose anything. Duh. This isn't the last we've seen of the gambeson, but this one's already kinda long and the two other scenes are too involved with ~~~the plot~~~.

#MercelotWeek2023 #mercelot #Merlin #Lancelot #Arthur Pendragon #Agravaine #Merlin BBC #Caerleon's such a minor character here I've decided not to tag him #lancelot lives au #alt season 4 #she's writing her tags she's checking them twice - bc she's already written mercelotweek2023 wrong twice

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