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Merlin was not having a good couple of days.
Ever since that damned Julius Borden had arrived in the middle of the night, everything had gone to horse dung. The arguments with Gaius, the betrayal of Borden, the worry over the fate of the last dragon egg, the stress of knowing it would be his fault if anything happened to it. He could slowly feel the weight of it all settling on his shoulders like a heavy cloud. It was darkening his thoughts and dampening his spirit. Things were just not going his way.
The fire was beginning to dwindle; he would need to add more wood soon. As it was, he sat slightly apart from Arthur and his knights, who sat close to the flickering warmth, all listening to some absurd story of Gwaine's. Knowing the drunkard knight, about twenty per cent of it would be true. But this was one Merlin had no interest in hearing, too busy dealing with his own thoughts.
He wondered when all of the pressures of late had finally gotten to him and shrouded his mind. Looking back over the day of travelling, of tracking, Merlin felt he had been dealing with it all quite well, considering. Right up until…
Ah. There it was. At dinner, when he had been tricked into thinking the knights had left none for him. That one moment of doubt when he wondered if they had truly forgotten him. That was the breaking point right there. Merlin couldn't help but feel slightly childish at the realisation.
He had always known how to take a joke. Had always seen the funny side of things. It was one of the reasons he and the commoner-knights got along so well (and even Leon when he managed to loosen up). He could always accept whatever fun they made of him and knew how to give back just as much. It was a constant back and forth between them that only continued to strengthen the bond they had.
Except for tonight. Even when Merlin had turned around to Leon holding up his own bowl of stew, the other knights and Arthur standing behind him with amused grins on their faces, and Merlin knew he had just been the butt of another practical joke, something within him remained unsettled.
He and his mother had not always had food a plenty in Ealdor. It was a small village, and that thug Kanen had not been the first to find them an easy target. Some seasons were not as plentiful as others, some winters were especially harsh. Merlin had not always found a meal on the table when the sun went down, no matter how much Hunith had tried to provide for him. And he was okay with that. It was what he had grown up with, and he had not begrudged anyone for the fact.
But the pain of hunger remained forever in his memory. It was not a pleasant one, though the memory of his mother's misplaced guilt was worse. There had been dark times that were reflected on Merlin's thin frame, and tonight, when he was already so close to a dark place in his mind, all of those times had come rushing back to him. The gates had opened and all the stress, all the worry, had flooded through him.
And now he could not seem to lock it all back up where it belonged. He poked the leafy ground with a stick sourly, admonishing himself for being so weak. This should not have affected him so. He should not be so bothered by this. It wasn't…
"Merlin!"
The young warlock was dragged out of his thoughts and he glanced up at five sets of eyes now on him. "Sorry?" he said, giving himself another mental kick.
"I said, we need more firewood," Arthur explained with exasperation.
Merlin glanced at the fire, now almost non-existent. "Oh. Right." He pushed himself up and walked aimlessly away from the campsite, picking up random twigs and old logs or branches as he went. Chatter rose up behind him as the knights went back to whatever they had been talking about, but soon went quiet again as he meandered out of earshot, his mind immediately going back to his dark thoughts.
***
Merlin sighed. This was taking much longer than should be necessary. This was a blasted forest, after all, shouldn't there be more damn wood to burn? Merlin had just started to grumble when he heard a rustling behind him and he turned so fast he almost lost balance.
But it was only Percival, a small handful of wood in one arm. Merlin let out a heavy breath and his tense muscles relaxed. Percival grinned. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Merlin forced a smile he did not feel. "It's alright."
Percival studied him for a moment, not bothering to stoop and grab a small branch just by his feet, and Merlin suddenly wondered on his motivations for coming and helping the servant. However, Percival was a man of few words, and it seemed he was not going to be forthcoming on answers. Merlin shook his head and turned back to look for more wood. He just needed a little bit more…
"Are you okay Merlin?"
Merlin paused in his search, not looking back at the knight. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"You just seemed… rather quiet."
A small smile, much more genuine than the last, graced Merlin's lips. "I appreciate the concern, Percival. But really, I'm okay."
"Is it about the dinner?"
This time Merlin did look back at his friend, genuine surprise on his face. "What?"
Percival looked uncomfortable. "You know, about how we… hid it from you."
Merlin laughed. Outright and loud, he laughed, apparently startling Percival slightly. "Ah, Percy. If only my problems were as simple as a practical joke."
This was, of course, the wrong thing to say. Percival frowned. "What do you mean?"
Merlin shook his head quickly. "Nothing. It doesn't matter. No, I'm not upset about dinner. Really." The muscled knight looked unconvinced and so he continued with more levity than he had felt in a while, "besides. Just think who's making your breakfast. You really don't think I'll be able to get back at you all?"
Percival smiled and a bit of tension left his shoulders. There was the cheeky, bubbly Merlin he knew. "I'll remember to be wary," he said, and finally picked up the piece of wood. Merlin nodded.
"That should be enough," he decided, beginning to make his way back to the camp and passing Percival as he did so. "Thanks for the help."
He stopped as a surprisingly gentle hand rested on his shoulder. "Merlin…" he looked back at the knight in askance. Percival continued sincerely, "if you do have any problems more… serious than missing stew… you can talk to me, you know. Or any of us."
Merlin had to quickly look away to hide the sudden blush creeping into his cheeks. "I know. Thank you." Merlin knew it was not as simple as that. He knew he could not simply tell his friends about his pressure as the last Dragonlord, or the guilt that was on his conscience, or the fear he held for the future. But he knew despite this, they were still his friends, and they were concerned. And that, just that little bit of reassurance, was what he needed.
That soft touch on his shoulder alleviated some of the weight there, and Merlin found a bit of renewed strength to carry on.