Chapter 7 - A Flower for Your Thoughts

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Merlin smiles to himself, eyes shut as he sways to the music. He hums a little with the tune, pretending that he's there standing amongst those noblemen and women. Pretending that he's there with Arthur as his father brings the ceremonial sword down upon his shoulder. The warlock smiles looking up at the ceiling as though he can see through the rock and up into the throne room wherever it may be. 

He wonders if it's strange to feel proud. To feel pride in his friend's achievement. He knows best how hard Arthur's worked for this day and he wouldn't want anything more than to be able to go up there to the castle just to be there to see him. But he can't.

Merlin sighs at the thought, the music no longer as soothing as before. He gets to his feet, stretching his arms in the air as he starts to pace the cell, his stomach rumbling. He looks to the door, wondering where the caretaker was. They normally would deliver his meal early in the morning, yet it's already the afternoon and they're still not here. Perhaps even they are busy with Arthur's knighting ceremony?

The warlock slumps back down against the wall, looking up at the light that filters through the grate, half expecting Arthur's head to poke out from between the bars despite knowing that the prince will probably not come today. There's a feast after the knighting ceremony. He won't have time for him. 

"Merlin?" A voice calls, as someone enters the room. 

The warlock sits up, "Gwen? Aren't you watching Arthur's knighting ceremony?"

The maid settles down in front of the grate, smiling down at him. "It's not exactly open to servants," she says a little sadly, "So I thought I'd keep you company before the feast starts."

Merlin frowns, sad to hear that Gwen can't attend, but also a little happy that at least there's someone with him. Arthur's gotten busier now that he's older as his father takes him out on various trips and assignments more often. He has to admit he's gotten lonely recently, but at least Morgana and Gwen try their best to come visit him whenever Arthur can't. "Thank you."

Gwen smiles and the two chat for awhile, talking about all sorts of things from Gwen's brother, Elyan, to Morgana and Arthur's bantering. They laugh and enjoy themselves as much as they can before the feast begins. 

It's late afternoon before Gwen gets to her feet, stretching her arms in the air before turning towards the door with a farewell. Merlin's sad to see her go, but knows that he can't keep her from her duties and so doesn't complain.

When the door shuts behind her Merlin slumps down lower against the wall, suddenly thrust back into the reality of that cold room. He feels lonely. So utterly lonely. Almost instinctively he reaches up to the cloth tied around his neck, to the neckerchief that Arthur had given him a year ago. He's found much comfort in it this last year. 

He looks around, wondering what he could do until it's late enough to head to sleep. After searching around for a few moments he picks up one of his books from off the ground. He flips to one of the pages he's marked with the yellow rose Arthur had given him and starts to study the image on the page. The image of a butterfly. 

It's been years now since he first attempted to make the insect but still he can't get it looking right. Arthur's said he's improved, but it's still not perfect. 

He holds his palms out in front of him, focusing all his magic towards the centre of his cupped hands as he chants. There's a glow of blue, then a ticklish feeling on his palm as the creature shifts in his hands. Merlin smiles at the little butterfly, proud of the slight improvements he's made. He watches it flutter into the air, circling around the room for a few minutes before it leaves through the grate. 

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