fic: a humbled, contrite heart 3
Title: A Humbled, Contrite Heart Pt.3
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: 15
Word Count: 2099
Warnings: religious themes, angst
Summary:
What does it take for love to be able to survive?
“I can’t lose you again,” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s ear.
Merlin put his arms around Arthur, feeling the familiar contours of his back, which he had missed for so long. He never wanted to let go, never wanted to feel bereft of Arthur again. So he clung tightly, listening as Arthur mumbled; “please don’t leave me. We’ll work something out. We’ll think of something.”
Merlin pulled back; Arthur’s arms settling at his waist to hold him close. Merlin lifted his hand and cupped Arthur’s cheek, rubbing his thumb lightly under Arthur’s eye to brush away the tears. Merlin’s mind flashed back to a scene years before, not too dissimilar, and he felt the sharp pangs in his heart; the ones he always felt when a memory of Arthur resurfaced, the ones that said he missed him. Now, though, they were accompanied with a new welling up of hope.
“Merlin…” Arthur whispered, almost in awe, as he gently leaned into Merlin’s hand.
“Ahh!” a woman gasped, and Arthur practically leapt away from Merlin as if he’d received an electric shock.
...
“Longinus, this is madness!” Decius complained, shoving his helmet into a passing servant’s hands whilst trying to keep up with his comrade.
“I can’t just let him die, I can’t let him suffer like this!” Longinus shouted in response as he marched through his spacious Capernaum villa towards the sleeping quarters. He calmed himself down as he reached the door to one of them, knocked gently, and then walked inside.
“Physician, has there been any improvement?” Longinus asked as he knelt beside the bed and took the hand of the young man (he had only seen his nineteenth summer that year) into his own.
The Roman doctor shook his head, “I’m afraid not. I’ve tried everything in my power, but he is unresponsive to every form of treatment. Perhaps sacrificing a goat at the Temple of Vediovis in Rome would prove effective?”
Longinus snorted in disapproval, “and how am I supposed to get to Rome? If I desert my post, they’ll kill me, and by the time I get there it could be too late for Agathon. In any case, Vediovis can’t help me.”
The doctor looked sympathetic as he said, “I’m truly sorry, Centurion, I really am. But there is nothing else I can do, he is in the hands of the gods now.”
Decius quietly slipped the doctor some denarii and ushered him out of the room, giving Longinus some time alone with Agathon.
“I’m so sorry,” Longinus said, holding Agathon’s sweat-coated hand as the young boy murmured incoherently in his unconsciousness.
After a while, Longinus decided that he needed wine to numb some of his hurting. So he stood, removed his armour, and walked out into the hallway and headed towards the kitchens. As he approached them, he started to cry; he stopped and leaned against the wall sobbing quietly. It was at that time that two of his slaves walked out of an adjoining corridor. They didn’t see Longinus as they were deep in conversation about a teacher and healer who had come to the town.
At the mention of the word ‘healer’, Longinus was ripped from his stupor. He charged down the corridor to catch up with his slaves, who, when they noticed him, froze where they were, petrified. He grabbed one of them, a young woman from Gaul, by the shoulders and shook her quite violently as he demanded; “who is this healer?! Where is he?!”
“Dominus,” the slave managed to squeak, and Longinus relaxed his hold a little, “he is a Jewish Rabbi, he is known in all of Galilee as a great healer who casts out devils and gives sight to the blind…” she stuttered, not making eye contact.
“His name, wench! What is his name!” Longinus shouted.
“Jesus! Jesus of Nazareth!” The slave answered. Longinus released her then, and the two slaves scuttled away out of sight.
Longinus didn’t bother with his armour, which he knew he ought to wear going out into the city, but instead ran straight to his front door. Decius was there talking to one of the soldiers. The soldier, on seeing Longinus approach, hit his chest and saluted. Longinus didn’t respond, instead he grabbed the soldier’s water-skin and took a deep drink.
“Off out, brother?” Decius enquired.
“There’s a healer in town,” Longinus answered, “perhaps he can help Agathon.”
“A healer? You mean Jesus of Nazareth? Yes, I know he’s in town, he’s a troublemaker so I’ve got some men keeping an eye on him. You can’t possibly be thinking of going to see him?”
“Of course I am,” Longinus handed the skin back to the soldier.
“Brother,” Decius sighed, shooing the soldier away so he could speak privately, “he is a Jew. You are a Roman citizen! It was one thing for you to build that synagogue for them; the Senate was pleased that you were able to win the local population over with something as simple as a few blocks of stone. But this? This Jesus of Nazareth isn’t even accepted by his own people; he’s an outcast, a madman! Think of what damage it would do to Rome if you did go to see him, it might even foment a rebellion. Think also of your honour!”
“He is a healer, Decius. Agathon needs a healer. Do you really think Vediovis would help me? The gods don’t exist! But their God? Their Lord? I know you don’t believe me, brother, but… I believe! If this man Jesus is truly a healer, who works miracles in the name of their God, then how could I not go to see him? Agathon will die if I don’t.”
“Brother, he is just a servant…”
Longinus slapped Decius hard on the cheek, shocking the other man, “don’t ever speak of Agathon in that manner!” With that, Longinus stormed out of the villa, and into the dusty streets of Capernaum.
It wasn’t difficult to find Jesus, a crowd was already gathering around him, so Longinus just joined the queue of people making their way to where Jesus was entering the city. When people saw Longinus in his underclothes, they gave him a wide berth, and many of them were visibly nervous at seeing him.
As Longinus passed by the synagogue, he saw a few of the Jewish elders at prayer. He walked up the steps and into the sanctuary. When the elders saw it was him, and the state he was in, they rushed over; “Dominus! What has happened?”
“My boy is sick,” Longinus said, no longer to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks nor the quiver from his voice, “he is close to death. There is a healer coming, he is a Jew called Jesus of Nazareth. Will you go to him? Ask him to heal my boy Agathon?”
The elders looked at one another. One of them spoke, “Agathon? He is your boy… after the Greek fashion?”
“What of it?” Longinus asked, his hackles beginning to rise.
“The Law of Moses forbids it as an abomination, Dominus. If this prophet is sent from God, he will not heal him.”
“Does that mean we cannot try? Please!” Longinus begged, falling to his knees, “please, I cannot see him die!”
“Please, Dominus!” the elders objected, trying to pull him to his feet, “do not dishonour yourself!”
“Very well,” one of the wisest of the elders said, “we will go to this prophet Jesus. Wait here until we return, Dominus.” The elders left the synagogue, and Longinus pulled himself to his feet. He waited only a few minutes, before rushing after them; he had to make sure they were doing as they said.
When he caught up with them, he was amazed to see the figure they were with. He was evidently a gracious man, he carried himself with poise and dignity despite his tatty cream robes and poorly fitting sandals. His hair and beard were well-trimmed, and his eyes were piercing. He stood with a number of disciples around him, who shielded him from the over-zealous in the crowd who wanted to touch him with bits of cloth to take home as souvenirs.
The crowd had parted slightly where the elders were standing, giving them room to address Jesus. The wisest of them was speaking, and Longinus caught part of the conversation: “He is worthy of having you do this for him, for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us.” At that moment, Jesus’ eyes turned from the elders and settled on Longinus. For Longinus it was like a lance had just run him through; the world melted away around him until it was just him, and Jesus. He felt compelled to walk forward, towards him.
The crowd murmured and whispered in shocked tones. A couple of zealots angrily shouted insults at him: “Roman scum!” “Murderer!” and the like. But Longinus didn’t listen, his eyes were fixed on Jesus.
As he neared Jesus, he dropped to his knees in the dirt; the dust kicking up slightly into his face. Longinus didn’t look up at Jesus, but kept his gaze on his feet.
“Lord,” the crowd gasped, and the zealots shouted “Blasphemy!” at the use of the title; “my servant is lying at home paralysed, in terrible distress.”
As Longinus struggled to find the words to continue, the tears again rolled down his face. Jesus, however, calmly reached out his hand and pulled Longinus up to his feet; with his hand still on Longinus’ shoulder, he smiled genuinely and said; “I will come and cure him.”
Several of the people standing by objected, but Jesus did not listen to them. Longinus, however, shook his head and said quickly; “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof,” Jesus looked taken aback, but Longinus continued; “but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, ‘Go’, and he goes, and to another, ‘Come’, and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this’, and the slave does it…”
Jesus’ smile grew broader, until it filled his whole face and shone like the sun. He turned to the crowd around him, his eyes settling especially on the elders and the zealots, and said; “Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” At this the zealots, and some of the elders, turned and left, all the while complaining at such insults. The elders who remained looked at the ground, chastened. Jesus looked at those elders, and the wisest met his gaze as Jesus continued; “I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” As Jesus said this, his face grew sombre at the thought.
Then he squeezed Longinus’ shoulder and turned to look him in the eye; “Go; let it be done for you according to your faith.” Longinus smiled and laughed, he fell to the ground prostrate and thanked Jesus, his tears anointing the teacher’s feet. Then he scrambled to his feet in the most undignified way, and ran towards his villa flushed with excitement at seeing Agathon again.
As Jesus watched him running through the streets laughing, his face grew solemn. His mind drifted to all the couples down the ages who would not be as fortunate as Longinus and Agathon; to all those couples who would suffer at the hands of his people. These people - the ones who persecute and practise intolerance - they are no different to the zealots who stormed away, scandalised by what he had said and done. As Jesus thought of all the couples like Longinus and Agathon - rejected by his people - his thought landed also on Merlin and Arthur. Two people, in a sea of millions, in the same position. He saw them in perfect clarity. He saw them stood together on a cold night, at the gates to a park in Exeter, two thousand years in the future. He saw them stood embracing each other, struggling to accept the gift he had given to them. He saw their feelings; their hopes, fears, desires, and longings. To them, and to all, Jesus extended a needed blessing.
…
Merlin stumbled backwards, somewhat surprised, as Arthur pulled away from him. He felt the familiar surge of paranoia that he felt whenever he feared somebody had discovered his secret.
When Arthur span round to look, Merlin noticed his shoulders tense up immediately.
Arthur’s jaw dropped; “Guinevere.”
A/N: This chapter is a one-off; there won't be any more 'flashbacks' of the sort described here! But this one was necessary for the story I have in mind, and I hope it doesn't throw off too many people. Just a disclaimer particular to this chapter: I have quoted the words of Jesus directly from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke in the NRSV Scriptures (and, also, the centurion's dialogue with him). Tradition ascribes the name 'Longinus' to the centurion who pierced Jesus' side at the crucifixion; for the sake of this story I have considered that centurion to be the one described in the miracle accounts in Matthew and Luke; however it is highly unlikely (probably impossible) that they were the same person. The centurion's background and the scene I describe is largely my own speculation. Also, the words (besides those taken from the Gospels) and images I've put into Jesus' mind are my own speculation; I'm not for one moment suggesting that Jesus felt like that at that point in time, I can't possibly know that as I wasn't there :-)