21Last chapter;) I'm starting to notice that they get progressively shorter . . . hmm.
There are spoilers in this fic up to Series 3 (sorry, I said 4, I was incorrect). Also, if you hadn't already figured that out from the summary, there are some pretty strong religious themes in this story. If you don't like that sort of stuff, this story is not for you. Thanks to Kitty O for beta-ing for me:D
I don't own Merlin, or the song this fic was based on, 'Did You Think To Pray?"
Arthur's father had once told him that he would need a guardian angel in his road to being king. Though he hadn't thought about it a lot at the time, Arthur had by now figured that his father was probably right. How many times had he almost been killed, only to miraculously escape? He had lost count.
Arthur only wished his father had had such a guardian to save him from Morgana's hate. Those days the king had spent in the dungeons must have been among the worst in his life, watching his beloved wa-daughter flaunt her new-found allegiances in his face, hunt down his son, and torture his people.
Speaking of which . . . Arthur's eyes swept around the courtyard in front of him. He was sitting on the steps, taking a break from helping the cleanup, and trying to think of other ways to help. Self-loathing filled him as he saw a few more bodies being carted away to the pyres. Some prince he was, when he couldn't even tell his own frie-sister was becoming evil, when he could barely reclaim the kingdom from her fingers. How had he not noticed the glint in her eye, the self-righteous smirk on her lips?
He sighed. He supposed that self-recrimination did no good. But what was he supposed to do? His people were suffering, looking to him for the comfort he hadn't found himself. The sight of his childhood friend sitting straight-backed and cold on the throne had torn a hole in his chest. If Merlin hadn't said what he had in the cave, Arthur might have taken even longer to rally and fight back. As it was, he still tried to ignore the pain of her betrayal.
It wasn't working.
He shivered slightly. Don't be such a weakling! he told himself, annoyed. You're Arthur, you can pull through this. You don't need outside help, you've gone through worse.
Another voice, sounding something like Merlin, interrupted. That is your pride talking, Arthur. The voice was disappointed.
Who could he turn to in this moment of anguish? Merlin came to mind, but somehow this grief seemed too private, even to share with his ser-friend. And Merlin had his own troubles, anyway. Arthur could not, in all decency, add to them.
Guardian angel, his father had said. And who would have sent Arthur an angel? The answer was simple, even if he didn't understand why.
Casting his eyes towards the heavens, Arthur muttered, "I could really use that guardian angel right about now."
People rushed up and down the busy staircase, talking, laughing, carrying, silent. The re-building efforts continued. Arthur sighed, thinking that he would have to wait for another day for closure.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and a moment later Merlin settled down next to him on the step. The servant smiled at him before turning his attention outward.
Arthur almost laughed as a strange thought occurred to him, and, as he looked down and caught sight of his scuffed boots, he couldn't help thinking that God had a wicked sense of humor.
"When sore trials come upon you, / Did you think to pray?/ When your heart was full of sorrow, / Balm of Gilead did you borrow / At the gates of day?"
-Mary A. Pepper Kidder
Okay . . . all I can say is, I really need to branch out into other fandoms. As soon as The Sorcerer's Apprentices is done, expect fewer Merlin-related stories. Maybe. *is helpless against the plot bunnies* sob! ANYWAY. Please leave a review this one last time;) That's all, folks!