Work Text:
Lancelot watched the shadows play on his friend’s serene features. He was in the same room as Camelot’s bravest and he felt honoured. His dream had come true, finally he was a knight, he was someone, not a peasant. That title before his name made all the difference.
Only he knew that the bravest of them all was still just a lowly servant. Merlin deserves so much more, but instead he risked his life every day without any recognition whatsoever.
Lancelot had never had such a loyal friend before, but he knew he'd give his life for him without a second thought, just like Merlin would for Arthur. Merlin’s life was so much more valuable. No one knew him like Lancelot did. That secret of his kept everyone at a distance. He knew that despite all the friends Merlin had found in the knight’s, he would still be irredeemably lonely.