Mykonos 11/16
| Masterpost| Part Ten|
“The dragon is kept as an example of the beasts that caused the Flood,” Arthur said slowly, though he clearly didn’t believe the words, looking at Merlin for confirmation, unsurprised when Merlin shook his head sadly.
“The dragons were slaughtered long before then. Your Dragonlords enslave him, twist his magic until it literally burns inside of him. He’s dying and all your sorcerers do is torture him more.” Merlin gritted his jaw, wanting to tell Arthur about the atrocities his father was allowing, but knowing that there was more to the story that he had to tell before then.
For his part, Arthur was willing to listen. He’d so far asked questions in the right place and taken in everything Merlin had to say, but that was the easy parts of the story. Even telling him that what Arthur knew about dragons was a lie was easy, compared to the other secrets Merlin carried.
“Do you want to do this now?” he asked quietly, knowing that once he’d started, he wouldn’t stop. But he was giving Arthur a choice. They knew each other now, Merlin could find Arthur again if he had to, but it had to be Arthur who made the choice. It was his world Merlin was going to destroy, a world he had grown up in and lived in his whole life.
“Yes,” Arthur replied instantly, before he gave a light snort of laughter. “No,” he said a second later, smiling slightly at Merlin. “I don’t think I ever want to hear how corrupt the City is, but that’s no longer an option.”
He sprang off of the sofa, pacing the space between the television wall and the doorway to his bedroom.
“You’ve been through so much and you’re still here, willing to tell me everything even though I…” Arthur cut himself off, stopping mid-stride and turning his head to look at Merlin. “Even though I thought you were working for Nimueh and everything had been a ploy to get in my head.”
Merlin knew he wasn’t only referring to today’s actions and ducked his head slightly.
“If it helps, he said lightly, “I did steal some of your shirts.”
The look Arthur gave him made Merlin shift uncomfortably.
“My shirts?” Arthur said, half bemused and half annoyed. “Do I even want to know why?”
And before he could stop himself, Merlin channelled Gwen’s words from the morning after, “It wasn’t a trophy or anything.”
Arthur raised his eyebrow again, eyes darting to the side. “Okay then,” he said, drawling out the words before shaking his head. “I don’t expect you’ll give them back?”
Merlin knew he should give them back, he’d stolen the shirts after all, but they were nicer than anything he’d ever worn, including the clothes Gwen and Morgana had piled on him. Clearly a perk of being royalty, but Merlin didn’t want to hand them back. Silly as it sounded, he’d grown attached to the idea of having the dragon over his chest, even if he hadn’t fully connected the dots back then.
“They’re really nice clothes?” he tried, wincing slightly as Arthur gave him another odd look.
“You can keep them,” he muttered, coming to take his seat back on the sofa. “Not like I can’t afford more,” he added with a grin, looking at Merlin pointedly.
Merlin took the jibe how it was intended and smiled back at Arthur, nudging him with his foot as he stretched his legs out.
“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted after a moment of quiet. Merlin’s feet were still resting against Arthur’s crossed legs and neither made a move to separate.
“I want to know everything, but at the same time I know that nothing will be the same after that.” Arthur looked at Merlin, searching for something in his eyes.
“Is there anything we can ease into?” he asked, and Merlin knew he wasn’t expecting the answer he wanted.
There were little details that Merlin could tell him, and he said as much, though they would all eventually lead to the truth.
But, for now, Merlin told Arthur about the refugee camps, of the living conditions and the equal hope and despair of people having their children and loved ones taken away. When Merlin mentioned the Pickings, a dark look crossed Arthur’s face and Merlin wondered if he didn’t have to explain any of that because Arthur already knew… but then the look was gone, Arthur clearly wondering where the people were going rather than outright knowing.
He carried on, telling Arthur about Mordred and the other Urchin children, smiling as he remembered some of their antics.
“They didn’t care for rules or regulations,” Merlin said. “Mordred was one of the druids so he didn’t quite have the same wild element as the others, but they were all free. None of them listened to rules, but that was their way of living and it was good for them.”
The Wild Children had been free of society and made up their own rules. They’d accepted Mordred when he’d had no place to go, and even accepted Merlin the night before he’d gone to the Tower. He remembered their scraggy forms huddled together for warmth, and then how the Police had shot more than one of them just for fun, and looked at Arthur, wanting to tell him how horrible life was outside of the City.
“The Police make games out of shooting the children,” he said and Arthur’s shoulder stiffened. “One less Urchin child, all the better to them.”
“My father-“ Arthur began, but cut himself off. Merlin knew why; Arthur wasn’t an idiot and he knew there was something far worse to come. His father may be the king and good to the people here, but the people outside weren’t human, and Arthur knew how his father saw things.
“How much do you know about the world outside Camelot?” Merlin asked, the sudden change in conversation causing Arthur to look up in curiosity.
When he spoke, his voice was slightly unsure, as if Merlin knew far more than he could ever hope to understand.
“We’ve always been taught that the only people left in the world live in Sky Cities. I never had reason to question that until I heard my father and Nimueh talking, saying something about increasing the Pickings on the refugees outside.” Arthur paused, looking away from Merlin for a moment.
“I didn’t understand what it meant back then, but I wanted to know why my father didn’t tell me there were people who needed help.” Arthur sighed, leaning back against the cushion and running a hand through his hair again.
“I looked through a lot of books,” he continued, flashing a glance over at Merlin and smiling. “Proper books too, the old ones from before the Floods.”
Merlin had seen books, of course he had. Some of them had been waterlogged and some had been in perfect condition, and then there had been the book of dragons his mother had said belonged to his father… but he couldn’t imagine flipping through an endless amount of books, especially ones from centuries ago, as if it was no big deal.
“I found what I was looking for in the Chronicles of Beltane,” Arthur said and Merlin looked at him, recognising the name from the book Gaius had read from when he’d told Merlin about the Old magic and why he could use it.
“There is a prophecy, repeated over and over in the Chronicles, of a man who would have more power than the Ocean itself. He was named as the one person who would be able to save those in need, even in the blindness of humanity.” Arthur looked at Merlin, gaze unwavering.
“They called him Emrys, so I want searching. There were people out there who needed help and I thought that I’d be able to bring the mighty warrior here to help.” Merlin looked down, not knowing what to say. He was no mighty warrior, no glorified human or anything other than a young man.
“My Obsidian,” Arthur continued, holding the stone that was resting against his chest. “It was given to me by my mother, before she died. I was young, lost the memories of her, but I knew that I had to use it to find you.”
Merlin knew from what Kilgharrah had said that Arthur was smart. He’d made the Obsidian connect to the Stone Circle without a hint of magic, forced his dragon-holograph form through it and found Merlin. He was resourceful, sharp, and willing to see where everyone else turned their heads.
These facts also made him dangerous. If Merlin ever became a threat to Arthur, revealed something at the wrong time or acted to betray Arthur, he knew that Arthur wouldn’t feel regret for any action against Merlin. They weren’t friends, yet, and maybe their stances towards each other would change, but for now they were simply two people who had to work together. (Merlin promptly ignored the churn his magic threw out at the idea of Arthur hating Merlin. That could be dealt with another day.)
“The druids,” Arthur said next, frowning as he re-caught Merlin’s attention. “They live in the space between these two fences?”
Merlin nodded. He’d explained the land at the base of the towers, how there was the sea, the refugees, the walls and the spaces between them. He hadn’t explained further than getting past the wall, and he wondered how much he should explain now, about Gaius and Ygraine.
“My father used to live in Camelot,” Merlin said instead. “He had to leave, but he was friends with the queen and Gaius, your doctor?”
At Arthur’s slight smile, Merlin continued. “I met Gaius. He took me in at the druid camp, when I told him about my family and who I was.”
Shock was clear on Arthur’s face and Merlin knew that he couldn’t tell him about his mother just yet. If this was his reaction to Gaius, there was no telling how Arthur would react when he found out about Ygraine.
“My father said he transferred to another City,” Arthur murmured, loosening his grip on his Obsidian and letting the stone fall onto his chest.
“He knew the prophecies,” Merlin said quietly, “But he didn’t choose to leave Camelot.”
Arthur’s eyes were clear when he looked at Merlin. There was a heavy weight on his shoulders; Merlin could see it even though there wasn’t technically anything to see.
“It’s late,” he said suddenly, and Merlin started a little in surprise. It was true that it was late, but this was a bit more pressing than bedtime.
And then he looked at Arthur again, into his eyes and at the lines of tiredness on his face. It was then that Merlin realised something. All the time he’d been crossing the Ocean and climbing the Tower, he’d still had his goal, known what he had to do. Merlin had had Gaius and Ygraine, and Mordred and Aglain, and even the other druids. He had been supported, even though he’d never quite realised that.
But Arthur? He was a prince who knew that his kingdom was corrupt, that his own father was lying and that the whole world was twisted. Arthur had sat next to his father and with Nimueh knowing that there were people suffering, but there was nothing he could do because Merlin wasn’t there. Merlin may be the one who had the magical power, but Arthur was the one born to be a ruler, and he’d known about his people’s suffering and simply had to wait.
“You’re right,” Merlin rushed out, standing and tucking his Obsidian under his shirt. “I should go.”
Arthur opened his mouth slightly, before he shut it again, clearly thinking against whatever it was he was going to say.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” Merlin asked, unsure how he’d react if Arthur said no. Thankfully, Arthur nodded slowly.
“I won’t be here in the morning, but I’ll give you the code to get in. Just come around whenever,” he waved his hands around the room, “And help yourself to food, the TV, whatever.”
To anyone else, it may seem odd that Arthur was willing to open his doors to a stranger, but it was just a house to Arthur, and they had to get along.
“If you need me before,” Merlin said, shuffling to the door somewhat reluctantly. “Then I’m at Gwen and Morgana’s.”
Arthur nodded distractedly, handing Merlin a piece of paper with a four digit code on it. He pocketed the paper, letting Arthur lead the way to the door. Arthur opened it and Merlin lingered in the threshold, catching Arthur’s hand where it was resting on the doorframe.
“I know it’s not the best situation,” he began, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “Some of the things I have to say won’t be nice, but I just want you to know that I’ll be there until it’s all over. I want to be your friend, if you’ll have me.”
Merlin tried not to shift as he felt Arthur’s gaze inspecting him. He felt Arthur’s hand twitch under his and looked up, mirroring Arthur’s sudden smile.
“Careful Merlin,” he said, smirking slightly, “I might just have to take you up on that.”
The door closed as Merlin stepped back, a smile on his lips and heart heavier than it had been for weeks, months even. He’d finally found his dragon - Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot, Ygraine’s son - and now neither of them were alone anymore.
The walk back to Gwen and Morgana’s was slow, Merlin keeping his head down and thinking about what he needed to tell Arthur. The sky above was dark, but there were no stars and after a moment of trying to find them, Merlin looked away, disgusted. He missed the wind and the stars, the open Ocean and the sound of waves. None of that echoed around Camelot, at least not yet.
“Merlin!” Gwen gasped as soon as he opened the door, flinging her arms around him. “Where the hell have you been?”
Morgana was by their side in an instant, pale-faced and wide eyed.
“For fuck’s sake,” she said, pushing Gwen to the side slightly and whacking Merlin on the arm, hard. “I got a call from Gwen saying that you took off like a nutter and she had no idea where you went, then you’re not home for hours?”
She grabbed him, hugging him tightly, before pulling back and hitting his arm again.
“Where were you?” Gwen asked and Merlin looked at her, guilt coiling in his stomach as he took in her red eyes. She, and Morgana now that he looked twice, had been crying.
“I…” Merlin began, but he couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, could he? And it was very suspect suddenly taking off, but at the time, Merlin hadn’t been thinking. He’d needed to see Arthur there and then, needed to confirm everything that had suddenly clicked.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, but Morgana tsked and shook her head.
“Not good enough. We’re your friends Merlin, and you just left Gwen there thinking something awful had happened.” Morgana bit her lip and added, “Left me thinking that something awful had happened, considering…”
She cut herself off, Gwen shooting her a sharp look. Merlin caught it and his gaze darted between them, trying to place whatever it was together.
“Considering what?” he asked, voice low and curious. There was something strange in the looks Gwen and Morgana kept shooting at each other and Merlin realised there was something they hadn’t told him.
“Morgana,” he said firmly, catching her eye.
He was tired of the secrets and the lies. In truth, Merlin would have liked nothing more than to tell the girls everything, but that would place them in a dangerous position. He was already treading a thin line, what with stealing someone’s identity and sneaking into the City, but Merlin didn’t want to include Morgana or Gwen even further if he could avoid it.
“Morgause was asked to look out for someone,” she said, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. He felt his blood run cold and took a step back, shoulders resting against the closed door.
“She used to belong to the sorcerers, but left to found the Isle. Still, Nimueh knows her well and asked her a favour.” Morgana sighed. “It’s only because you came in with me that Morgause hasn’t told her.”
Gwen made as if to comfort Merlin, but she paused at his wide eyes and shaking head. He’d thought he was safe, and yet all this time, Nimueh had been searching for him? Had she known the moment he’d switched places with the guard or had he at least been able to get into the City and merge into the endless amount of people before she’d seen what he looked like.
“Morgause won’t tell her,” Morgana added hastily. “She wouldn’t betray me like that.”
He was almost about to ask how Morgana could know that in so much confidence, when he realised she had more to say, avoiding his eyes and sharing more fervent looks with Gwen.
“And,” Gwen said softly, Merlin turning his head sharply towards her. “She said you have magic, but that Nimueh wasn’t extending an invitation to the sorcerers.”
They both looked worried, but Merlin didn’t know how to quell the worries. He felt them, even stronger than they must be feeling, and though they weren’t turning him away right now, they hardly knew even a scratch of the truth.
“Whatever Nimueh wants from you,” Morgana said, voice fierce, “We can help you.”
Gwen was nodding at the words, determined look on her face, and Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. Here were two women he’d lied to, crashed into their lives and kept up a charade - one they’d known had to be a lie, for Morgause must have told them ages ago - and yet they were still willing to defend him, to go against the most powerful sorceress in the City, and all for a man they hardly knew.
“What if I’m a terrible person?” Merlin asked, cruel smile on his face. It felt odd, too sharp and wide, but what could he do? They didn’t know him and wouldn’t like him if they did. “What if I said that I lied to you this whole time, that I manipulated my way into your lives and used you?”
Merlin didn’t wait for a response, ploughing on, “What if you found out that I’d hurt people, betrayed people when they needed me? What if you found out I had the potential to destroy everything you knew… would you still want to help me then?”
“You idiot!” Morgana said, moving forwards to stare Merlin down. “Do you think we didn’t imagine all of that? That you were some criminal who had climbed the Tower and come to take revenge?”
She gave a harsh laugh, “Our scenarios are a thousand times worse than anything that could ever be the truth and you know what?”
Merlin could scarcely breathe, heart hammering in his chest at Morgana’s next words.
“We decided that we didn’t care.” She moved back to stand beside Gwen, face softening and sighing. “We decided that it didn’t matter, because whatever you did, it’s not who you are.”
The words took all the energy out of Merlin and he slumped against the door.
“Look,” Morgana said quietly, crouching down until she was level with Merlin. “Nimueh is not a nice person. Whatever she wants you for,” Morgana looked away shaking her head.
“Maybe,” Gwen cut in, “We should sit down and have some tea.” Merlin looked at her. “And maybe we can explain everything to each other.”
As Gwen went to the kitchen, Morgana and Merlin moved to the sofas. Merlin wondered if every serious conversation in his life was now going to take place on a sofa, but accepted the mug of tea Gwen came back with graciously. He jiggled his leg a little nervously as they were all seated, waiting for someone else to start.
“I have these… dreams,” Morgana began, legs crossed on the sofa and mug clutched in her hands. “I’ve always had them, but I never thought they were anything more than nightmares until Morgause found me.”
Merlin looked at her, waiting for more of the story.
“Morgause is my half-sister,” she said, and Merlin looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t been able to tell that, what with only knowing Morgause for a brief moment, but there had clearly been a connection between her and Morgana.
“She told me that it used to be a powerful gift, one that sorcerers of the past were able to channel and use for prophecy.” Morgana gave a slightly pained smile, “But that magic is all but dead and I only get the echoes haunting me.”
She looked at Merlin, eyes searching his. “Morgause hid me from Nimueh. If she’d discovered I had magic, I would have been recruited into the sorcerers.”
It was odd for Morgana to act this way, Merlin thought. To the public, the sorcerers of the City were good people, honest and working on ways to prolong Camelot’s life. But Morgana wasn’t exactly an ordinary person; she’d grown up at Court and knew more about what went on behind closed doors than almost everyone else.
Her situation was similar to Arthur’s in the fact that they were both placed in difficult positions. Arthur for what he knew, and Morgana for a power she had been born with. Both of them had had choices to come clean and confess what they knew, but they’d both chosen to side against Nimueh, something Merlin was indefinitely grateful for.
“There’s more to them than meets the eye,” Morgana hurried on. “Whatever Nimueh’s trying to find you for, she’ll drag you down and they’ll do terrible things, beyond imagining.”
Merlin gave a small snort of laughter, meeting Morgana’s shocked gaze.
“What makes you think she hasn’t already?” he said quietly.
This was what he’d wanted to admit all evening, but hadn’t been able to because Arthur wouldn’t be able to understand. For Arthur, even in the short time Merlin had known him, his father was important. Morgana had been hiding her gifts all her life and had a greater bond to think of with Morgause than worry about the king. Morgana, when she’d confided her secrets, hadn’t been rejected by the one person who loved her.
Arthur didn’t have anyone. Aside from Uther, who Merlin could guess was hardly a fatherly figure at best of times considering how Ygraine had talked of him and the pinch in Gaius’ face when they’d discussed certain matters, there wasn’t anyone else for Arthur to turn to. He’d had to reach out over an Ocean to find someone willing to help, that’s how alone he’d been.
At least Morgana had had Morgause, at least she understood what was at stake for Merlin and had given him something in return for the truth. She had trusted him with her secret, given him it as a token, so that neither of them had anything to lose anymore. That was why he could say these things to Morgana and Gwen, and why Arthur would have to wait.
“Already?” Gwen said, voice incredulous. “You can’t mean…”
Merlin ducked his head slightly, looking down at the tea in his mug. They didn’t need to know all the details, but he could share his story with them.
“I come from the Island of Ealdor,” he said, not meeting their eyes. “I washed up on Camelot and was found.”
Merlin knew that he couldn’t say too much. He couldn’t tell Gwen or Morgana about what Arthur had done, or about Gaius and Ygraine. They could know about him, but they couldn’t know everything Arthur was involved in.
“Nimueh wanted me because I have magic,” he said, skimming over the subject. “I escaped before she could get to me and lied my way into Camelot.”
“You mean you impersonated a member of Nimueh’s ranks,” Morgana stated curtly. “So what happened to that man you impersonated? Did you kill him?”
Looking up, Merlin knew that she didn’t buy all of his story. She knew there was something more, but he wasn’t going to tell her. That much belonged to Arthur, not Morgana, and he would keep it down to just him and Arthur as long as he could.
Besides, the more Morgana knew, the more she and Gwen were in danger. Arthur knew the risks, but the two here had no idea how big everything was.
“I switched places with him in my cell,” Merlin said flatly, not outright lying as he had switched places. “I expect that’s how Nimueh knew I’d escaped.”
Gwen gave a little gasp, rising on her knees, moving forwards to the sofa Merlin and Morgana were sitting on, throwing the little cushion nest she’d made into disarray.
“Merlin,” she said, catching his wrist. “You didn’t use your card did you, back at the Restaurant?”
Frowning, Merlin shook his head. “I don’t have my own cards or anything.”
“Exactly,” Gwen said, darting a look at Morgana. “What if Nimueh already knew and started tracking you back then?”
Merlin was about to dismiss the notion and to shake it off with a laugh, when he realised that Nimueh would have had plenty of time to realise what had happened. Merlin had been having blood work done, it was entirely possible that someone had called the room, or even visited, only to find Merlin gone and his guard strapped up.
There had certainly been time enough for the discovery to be made. Merlin had spent over a day there, walking down to the dragon and back, before entering Camelot. What if Nimueh had let him enter, if she’d simply watched as he negotiated the New World, waiting to strike.
But… then again…
“Wouldn’t she have done something by now?” Merlin asked, frowning and hoping desperately.
Morgana raised an eyebrow, smiling sadly. “She’d rather wait in hiding and corner you with no other option. Nimueh will wait weeks if she has to, let someone grow complacent and lazy, thinking their safe. But the moment you become open to strike,” Morgana leaned forwards, hissing, “That’s when she’ll take you down.”
Swallowing thickly, Merlin looked down at his tea again. It was tepid now, not suitable for drinking, but the earthy colour reminded him of home, of his mother and for all the reasons he was doing this.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly, wondering if they’d really ask him to leave.
Gwen’s hand on his wrist tightened.
“We’re all going to go to bed. It’s far too late for this sort of talk,” she said sternly, fixing Morgana with a look as she began to protest. “Then in the morning, we’re going to have breakfast early and Morgana and I will go to work, where we’ll try to find out something about Nimueh and how much she knows.
“When we come back, we expect you to be here.” Gwen squeezed his wrist again, firmer this time. “You can tell us what you need to and we will tell you what we’ve managed to find out.”
Morgana made a noise, as if she was about to say something in protest, but Gwen simply shot her a dark look and that was the end of that. Merlin was just beginning to learn that Gwen was a formidable force when she wanted to be.
“Merlin can tell us what he needs to and no more,” she reinforced, directing the words to Morgana. “He’s our friend and I think I speak for the both of us when I say that whatever this is, Merlin knows best about what he wants to reveal.”
Merlin felt the look Morgana shot him, as if she was unhappy about the whole thing and only obeying because it was Gwen, before Morgana stood and walked to her room, full mug left on the table.
Sighing, Gwen said, “I’m sorry about her.” She moved up until she sat next to Merlin. “All her life she’s had these dreams of someone sneaking into Camelot, being the first to come from the Islands. She dreamt of a terrible choice they’d have to make and how they’d change the world either way.”
She paused and was silent for a few moments.
“I don’t really want to know if you’re capable of changing the world,” she whispered, tucking her head against Merlin’s shoulder. “But Morgana told me about the terrible things that could happen either way, and if it really is you… then it doesn’t have to happen just yet.”
She sniffed and Merlin froze, not knowing what to do or say.
“We don’t have to lose you just yet,” Gwen said as she slid from the sofa and away into her room, leaving Merlin alone, staring at the wall with wide eyes.
What Gwen didn’t know, and Morgana probably only suspected, was that Merlin had heard similar words before. Kilgharrah had warned him of a choice he’d have to make, a terrible choice that would either save them all or condemn them. If Morgana was a Seer as Merlin suspected, not someone who simply saw the echoes of magic, then she had the power to see the future and see what Merlin’s choice would be.
He sighed, burying his head into his hands. When had everything become so complicated and twisted? Morgana and Gwen were never supposed to know about his true identity, and now that they had, they wanted to know more. Sure they’d respected his boundaries, but Merlin had already told them far more than he’d ever wanted to.
He ran his fingers through his hair, mind racing. He had to see Arthur tomorrow, and tell him about Morgana and Gwen, but did he come back? He could just run away from Morgana and Gwen, let them think he was a callous bastard in the end, but at least they wouldn’t know more.
Yet, if Nimueh already knew who he was, it wasn’t a far cry to assume that she also knew about Gwen and Morgana. Even if he left, would Morgana and Gwen be safe?
There was only one person who would be able to help him out there. There was one person who had already protected Morgana and Merlin knew would continue to protect her, and through her, Gwen. It meant that he’d have to visit Morgause, but it would be worth it in the end.
Plus, Merlin knew Arthur would come too. That’s just how it was now; him and Arthur through everything. Not even Morgana or Gwen could come close to the bond Merlin had with Arthur, though their relationship was rocky and fledgling.
It took a while for Merlin to sleep that night, but when he eventually did, his Obsidian was around his neck and his dreams were of a golden dragon curled around a throne.
.
Merlin ignored the stare pressing against him in favour for looking at the door. Arthur was standing, slightly hunched with his hands in his pockets, by Merlin’s side, eyes fixed on Merlin.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he muttered, for what had to be the hundredth time.
“Yes,” Merlin hissed back, nudging Arthur with his shoulder a little. “It is. Morgana said that Morgause protected her so we can trust her.” Merlin hoped that Arthur couldn’t hear the slight shake in his voice and that he’d just accept the situation for what it was.
Except Arthur was still staring at him and Merlin knew he’d never accept it for what it was.
The morning had passed far too easily. Gwen, Morgana and Merlin had had breakfast, Gwen and Morgana had gone to work and Merlin had gone to Arthur’s as soon as he could, spending the day flicking between Arthur’s books and the blinding programmes on the TV, far more enchanted with the books.
Arthur had returned to the house haggard and grim-faced, pausing in the doorway slightly as he’d caught site of Merlin sprawled over his sofa.
“You’re here,” he’d said, voice tired, and Merlin had jolted up from reading, looking at Arthur blearily.
“Yeah,” he’d replied, smiling widely as his magic coiled warmly in his chest, just how Merlin imagined dragon’s fire to.
It was only lunchtime and Arthur explained that he’d managed to get off general princely duties for the afternoon by saying he had some matters to attend to. Apparently Uther respected Arthur a great deal, for he’d simply waved his son off home and wished him luck with the projects.
They’d eaten more New Food, tasteless, easy to cook stuff as Arthur hadn’t been able to pick anything up, and Merlin had told him about Morgana and Gwen.
“You know how I said I lived with Morgana and Gwen?” Merlin had begun, and Arthur had raised an eyebrow over the forkful of suspicious blue mush he was eating. “Well, they may have accosted me when I got back last night.”
In his defence, Arthur waited patiently until Merlin was done before he burst out laughing, eyes crinkling.
“I wish I’d seen your face,” he said, setting his fork down and looking at an un-amused Merlin. “I bet horror looks good on you.”
They’d settled into an amiable relationship, set on jibes and laughs at each other, feeling their boundaries and testing them. Arthur was a good person, Merlin had come to realise, and he knew Arthur felt similar.
He’d gone on then to explain why they needed to visit Morgause and how she could be important in whatever upcoming battles they had to face - metaphorical or not.
So Arthur had taken them through the busier parts of Camelot, passing over the little bridge that led to the square, leaving the disembodied voice begging for wishes behind, and through the square. He continued leading them, pointing out places of interest to Merlin in a way that Merlin knew was instinctual and made Arthur feel more in-control of the situation.
The building they’d ended up at, Merlin had realised, was the Isle. It looked smaller than it had the night they’d been here, and Merlin shot Arthur a quick look, wondering what memories the Isle brought back for him.
The door opened and a burly man looked at them, scanning them with his eyes before stepping back and nodding.
“Morgause is down the hall, the smaller door,” he huffed out, letting Arthur and Merlin in.
“So much for forgetting,” Arthur muttered, falling into step beside Merlin as they walked down the stairs, heading for the door Morgana had taken him to first of all.
“Somehow I don’t think this is a conversation we’d want to forget.” Merlin stopped before the door. “Besides, not everything’s good to forget, is it?”
It was the only time they’d mentioned the night between them at the Isle in the open, and Merlin wondered if he’d been an idiot to bring it up.
Arthur looked at him, warm smile just curling the edges of his lips. “No,” he admitted, “I don’t suppose it is.”
It was a simple admission, and to anyone else it might have seems that the conversation was innocent, but Merlin remembered part of that night and clearly so did Arthur. They hadn’t spoken of it, but hearing Arthur say that he hadn’t forgotten, that he didn’t want to forget, sent a thrill through Merlin and he hid his smile, ignoring the way his magic wriggled inside of him.
There was another reason why Merlin would never tell Morgana and Gwen the same as he’d tell Arthur. His magic didn’t respond in the same way to them as it did Arthur, wanting to curl around him and pull him close. Though he could shake it off, say that his magic was simply remembering the night they’d spent, and how Merlin had never felt it before because he’d never done it before, but that would only be a half-truth. His magic, though it had been dulled at the Isle before, had sought Arthur out willingly. His magic liked Arthur just as much as Merlin did and had chosen to form a connection with the man, for whatever reason.
The door to the room the bouncer had said Morgause would be in was open. The club was strange, lit up brighter than it had been so that it looked normal, not like the mysterious place you came to to forget, but the magic pulsing through the building was much the same.
As they stepped into the room, Merlin shivered at the sudden weight of magic, focused solely on him now that Morgana wasn’t in the room, and Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder, worry evident on his face.
“I’m fine,” Merlin said quickly, “It’s just this place has so much magic running through its walls.”
He almost added that the magic wanted him to use it, but he hadn’t quite explained about that to Arthur in a way that didn’t make him sound like a madman who went around picking up stray strands of magic like it was nothing. Magic, to the rest of the world, was a dying force that people were using the ability to use.
Arthur knew that the strongest sorcerer was losing her grip on her magic and even though he knew that Merlin was powerful, it was a bit much to explain he could technically just draw out every inch of magic in the City with very little effort.
“Oh,” Arthur replied, shooting a look around the room. “I thought it felt different.”
Merlin wondered if Arthur could feel the magic stronger than anyone else without magic. He remembered Ygraine’s horrified confession that her son had been born with the use of magic, how his life had sacrificed a child taken during the Pickings, and that had to have a direct link to what Arthur could feel, surely?
Whatever Nimueh had done, a spell, an enchantment, a curse… it had t ohave left Arthur with some sense for magic, latent or otherwise. He had to be able to feel the magic in the room more powerful than what someone without his history could, though he doubted that Arthur knew why, or even suspected he could have been born due to magical means.
“I thought you might come,” a voice said, and Morgause walked into the room with a grim look on her face. “Though I did hope otherwise,” she added, looking Arthur up and down before turning to Merlin.
“And I’ll admit I never thought you would bring the prince himself here. Morgana mentioned she saw you with a companion, but she was never able to pick the person out.” Morgause gave them a wary smile, taking a half-step back gesturing for them to go through the door she’d just entered in.
Merlin picked his way forwards through the dim room, ignoring the hiss of magic as it tried to lull him in, tried to merge with his own, and stepped through the doorway with Arthur just behind him.
Instantly, the atmosphere changed, almost as if they’d stepped into a completely new building. The light was brighter, the air fresher, and Merlin realised that this was where Morgause lived, that her home was directly connected to the Isle.
He didn’t even want to think about what the constant feel of the magic was like and turned his attention to Morgause and Arthur, who were both taking seats around a table, situated in the centre of the room. It was the only object in the room, but somehow it didn’t make the room seem empty or unused.
“I take it that you know Morgana had dreams of you?” Morgause asked, curt and to the point. She seemed a formidable woman, even more so than Morgana, and that was saying something.
“She explained about her nightmares to me last night,” Merlin began, looking at Arthur, who nodded, even though he hadn’t been there. The support was well-intended, though, and Merlin was grateful for it.
“That doesn’t answer why you’d be here,” said Morgause, eyes flickering from Merlin to Arthur and pausing for a moment. “But I can guess it’s one of a few things.”
She put her elbows on the table in front of her, looking directly to Merlin and linking her fingers, waiting for what he had to say.
Swallowing, Merlin began, “I don’t want Morgana or Gwen involved.” Morgause didn’t look surprised by the statement, but her face softened slightly.
“It’s obvious that you know more about Nimueh than they do, and while I have no idea if you know the truth, I know I can trust you to protect them if Nimueh decides to go after them because of their association with me.” Merlin looked at the table, running a finger over the smooth wood.
“I don’t want to leave them,” he said softly, and it was true. They were his friends, people who were willing to sacrifice whatever they needed to to help him, but Merlin couldn’t let them. They were never supposed to have changed their lives for him, yet that is exactly what they had done and were prepared to carry on doing.
“But I value their safety and that’s why I have to go.” Merlin looked at Arthur, remembering the other conversation they’d had earlier. Merlin had explained the situation, and Arthur had sat there with a frown, letting Merlin think it through before coming up with his proposal.
“You can come and live with me,” he’d said, calmly and openly. Merlin had looked at him sharply, asked if he was sure, and Arthur had simply nodded.
“You’ll be here a lot of the time anyway and no one will expect you to be friends with the prince if you’re a revolutionary.” Arthur had grinned, almost wickedly, “All I have to do is back everything my father and Nimueh say, not obviously so it looks like I have something to hide, and you can stay here without anyone the wiser.”
They’d hashed out a basic plan, that Merlin would go to Morgana and Gwen and tell them a few truths. After that, they’d go to work and during that time, Merlin would pack everything and leave without a trace. It was cold hearted, but he couldn’t let them be dragged into this too.
Morgause sighed, bringing Merlin back to the present day. She tilted her head, letting blonde curls cover her face slightly, before she turned her gaze to Merlin once more.
“You realise that Nimueh is going to realise I’m against her if I do this?” she said, sounding weary of the situation already.
“Yes,” Arthur said simply, as Merlin failed to think of a counter. “But I can speak for the both of us when I say we want to keep Morgana safe. We’ve never got on, you and I, but you want Morgana to be safe more than anything. If Nimueh knew that Morgana was tied to Merlin, what would she do?”
The venom in Morgause’s glare directed to Arthur was visible from where Merlin was sitting. He’d know they had their differences, but Merlin had never realised how much Morgause and Arthur’s history laid between them. Still, Arthur had made a good point, and Merlin hoped it would be enough.
“I’ve had to take the measures I did because of what your father did,” Morgause hissed, look furious. “Your father forced me to turn my back on my teachers, my career and all of my friends. I was shunned from the moment I walked away from the sorcerers and all because your father would have forced my sister to comply with the sorcerers too. I might have enjoyed the work, but Morgana was never meant for it. Your father-“
“He’s Morgana’s father too,” Arthur stated simply, calmly.
Merlin’s eyes widened. Morgana had never mentioned anything about being related to Arthur or the king, and neither had Arthur. Everyone else knew Morgana as the king’s ward so the information had to be classified to some degree, but the way Arthur had said it was so casual, it was if he’d known for a long time, come to acceptance of the fact even.
“And that makes it better?” Morgause said in disgust, fury flashing in her eyes.
“No,” Arthur reasoned firmly. “But if Uther was going to bend the rules for anyone, it would have been Morgana. You knew that, Morgana knew that, and yet you both chose to turn away from Nimueh.”
Merlin waited patiently, knowing that this was not a conversation he could just enter. This was something deeper than just asking Morgause for help, it was proving to her that she needed to help them, and the only person who would be able to convince her would be Arthur.
“What was I supposed to do?” Morgause said, still glaring at Arthur and unwilling to lose the fight. It was a quality Merlin admired and knew would come in handy, if they managed to get her on their side.
“Exactly what you did,” Arthur said, resting his elbows on the table, mirroring Morgause. “But don’t blame me for something that my father did. I am not him, and I thought I made that clear by showing up with Merlin today, but it seems you need a deeper explanation.”
Arthur took in a deep breath before he spoke. “My father has controlled my life ever since my mother died.” Merlin listened intently, wanting to know about Arthur’s life and what had driven him to this moment.
“Ever since I was a child, all I’ve known is that my father gets the final say on everything, from who I make friends with, to what I eat, how I dress and what I’ve learnt about.” Arthur clenched his jaw, but refused to take his eyes from Morgause. “I’ve been the perfect prince for a long time, but that didn’t make me a nice person.”
Morgause gave a harsh chuckle, “Such as when you found out about Morgana? You said you would get on a boat and sail away where no one cared.” She gave a withering look in Merlin’s direction, “It sounds so melodramatic, but he was going to do it. He had guards tracking him around the City for weeks.”
Her voice was gleeful, but Merlin could hear the malice behind it.
“I was a brat,” Arthur said, “Though when you’ve spent your life being told how much your father loved his wife and found out he was having it off with another woman behind her back all the while, it changes your behaviour a little. I think even you, Morgause, can acknowledge that, considering you were the one who told me.”
Morgause rolled her eyes.
“My point it, my father is a different man to who I am. He’s tried to shape me in his image, but if he’d been successful, would I be asking for your help today?” Arthur tilted his chin and Merlin looked at him, amazed by the shift he’d brought on with that slight movement. He wasn’t playing Morgause’s game anymore, he was telling her what she had to do and giving her straight choices.
Morgause looked at Arthur, hard, for a moment, before she suddenly turned to Merlin pointing a finger at him
“Why is Nimueh so interested in you?” she asked. “And don’t give me some half worked story that you no doubt told Morgana. She’s willing to believe more things than I am and if I find out that you’ve lied to me, there’s nowhere in the whole of Camelot that can hide you.”
It was a test, Merlin knew, and he rose to the challenge, meeting Morgause’s eyes without fear or regret.
“Because she’s afraid of me,” he said simply, as it was the honest truth. Merlin knew too much, was too powerful, and it scared Nimueh enough for her to take action against him.
Morgause laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “What is there to be afraid of? That you’re an unchecked sorcerer in the City? There’s more than one of those and she’s never been this ruthless.”
She sat back in her chair, arms slipping from the table, as she regarded Merlin casually, digging out the truth.
“I know about what they’re doing to the thousands of people in the Tower. I know that they’re using the Obsidian circle and the last dragon to force magic from those people. I know that they hunt and kill refugee children without any remorse,” Merlin said, voice low as he leant forwards.
“You don’t think that I know that? Anyone let into the sorcerers is told that, made to sign pacts of allegiance stating they’d never reveal that publically.” Morgause shot Arthur another weighted look. “No one ever expects to leave the sorcerers, because when you do, you’re not on either side. You can’t be in the public because you know the atrocities, but you can’t stay with the people doing it because you chose not to.”
She looked away, “No one likes doing it, Merlin, but we all stood together and got through it, because we were all the same. People with magic who were helping the non-magical people and keeping Camelot alive.”
She smiled bitterly, grimacing as the smile curled. “When I chose to protect Morgana, hide her gifts, I had to turn my back on all the people who accepted me. Do you know how horrible it is to wake up every morning and know the truth, but that you can’t do anything to change it, or even speak about it?”
There was silence for a moment, before Merlin spoke softly.
“I do,” he said. “Every night of my life before I found Arthur.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur start and look at him, but he couldn’t pay mind to that now, not when he needed Morgause to understand what he was doing here and how much they needed her help.
Merlin told her about Ealdor, about thinking he could save everyone because of the Obsidian and how he’d caused everyone to die. He told her about the refugee camps, how many people had simply given up hope and the others who were clinging to it desperately. He then told both her and Arthur about the druids, how they’d told him about his magic and the prophecy, how Aglain had trained him and how others had taken him in, looked after him.
Morgause had been silent when he’d told them that friends were taken during the Pickings, and her face paled when Merlin explained how he’d offered himself up freely, calling for the Police to scan him, capture him when it could well have been the end of his life.
“I woke up inside a cell, something I doubt anyone else is able to.” Merlin looked at Morgause, “Not because they don’t want to, but because I have more magic than they could take out of me.” He shook his head. “I switched places with my guard, which is how Nimueh found out about me… but you knew I’d done that.”
Morgause nodded slowly and Merlin continued, not daring to look at Arthur. He hadn’t told the prince this part of the story yet, of the Pickings and everything that came with it, and he didn’t want to see Arthur’s face just yet.
If Merlin had a choice, he would never have told Morgause all of this. He hadn’t know how difficult getting her help was and, despite what Arthur had said when he’d mentioned the plan first about how tough it would be, realised that now he had to play all his cards, no matter the personal cost.
It didn’t matter that it felt wrong telling someone else these things, someone who wasn’t Arthur, because Merlin had to do it. Morgause had the power to help Gwen and Morgana as well as give them needed information about Nimueh. They needed her on their side, or else she could choose to reveal them to Nimueh.
“I went to talk to the Great Dragon, Kilgharrah,” Merlin said and Morgause arched an eyebrow.
“He spoke to you?” she asked, incredulously.
“My father was a Dragonlord,” Merlin explained, and did look at Arthur this time. “Balinor; he was friends with your mother.”
There were so many little connections between him and Arthur, Merlin was beginning to realise, and wondered if there was someone else the prophecy had mentioned, something everyone had overlooked because they weren’t the person with the magic to right the world. He’d have to read through Arthur’s copy of the Chronicles of Beltane to find out, but there had to be more than just coincidence.
“He was exiled from Camelot when he discovered the truth. He chose not to sign any agreement of silence and he suffered, though he wasn’t the only one who was forced to leave,” Merlin said, looking away and down at his hands on the table.
It would be so easy now, just to say that Ygraine was alive and that everything Arthur knew was an even bigger lie. And Merlin would have, really, except Morgause didn’t need more fuel to the fire against Arthur, and Arthur would likely never forgive him if he blurted out now. So Merlin took the easier way out, choosing only to tell them about Gaius.
“Gaius, the court physician, was also exiled when he learnt the truth,” Merlin said, and Arthur jerked in his chair.
“Then the Gaius I knew and the one you mentioned are the same?” Arthur asked a beat later, remembering one of the conversations they’d had through the Obsidians.
Merlin nodded. “I didn’t know until later,” he said. “Otherwise I would have told you.”
Arthur gave him a look, as if he doubted that Merlin would have, but then shook his head and relaxed in his seat, waiting for the rest of what Merlin had to stay.
“My point is,” Merlin continued, looking at Morgause. “That I am going to stop what Nimueh and the others are doing. I have the power to do it and I have Arthur to help me. Together, we’re going to save every single person who is being tortured in the Tower, and we are going to help the people dying outside of the gates simply because they’re not good enough for Camelot.”
At first, Merlin had assumed it was an issue of space, but now he was in Camelot, now that he’d seen the New World, he realised that that wasn’t the issue at all. There was plenty of space in Camelot itself, and development could be undertaken on the Tower itself, let alone the support towers. There was so much potential, but it had been cast aside because the people on the ground weren’t better than vermin in the eyes of the king and his sorcerers.
“And what we came here for today,” Merlin continued, nodding at Arthur, “Was to see if you would protect people we cared about and help us save those you didn’t get the chance to.”
Merlin knew that Morgause was a good person. She had to be to protect Morgana from living with the same burden that she did. That didn’t mean that she had to help them, though, but Merlin hoped she would.
“You have to leave her as soon as you can,” Morgause said, and Merlin only just refrained from breaking into a smile, hearing the acceptance in her voice.
“And you can’t come here anymore. I’ll find someone to act as a go-between, but we can’t see each other, in public or private. I don’t trust Nimueh and if there’s a way she can find you, she’d use it no matter the cost.” Morgause eyed Arthur heavily for a moment. “That’s how she’s always been,” she said slowly, and Merlin knew that she had at least guessed the truth behind Arthur’s birth.
Still, she shook her head and her eyes cleared, obviously sensing that now wasn’t the time and that it wasn’t her place to be the one to tell Arthur.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, surprising both Merlin and Morgause. “You didn’t have to do this for us and while I know it’s more for Morgana’s sake than ours, we’re still grateful”
For a moment, Morgause didn’t say anything, simply looked at Arthur oddly. Then she half-smiled, acknowledging Arthur with a nod of the head, before she turned to Merlin.
“Morgana will want to know where you are and if you’re alright,” she said, though it sounded as if she thought Morgana was crazy for wanting to know. Merlin didn’t blame her; Morgause clearly cared for her own and her own alone. Merlin was an outsider, Arthur too, and she would never have agreed to do business if Morgana hadn’t been at risk.
“You can tell her I’m safe, and that you’re in contact with me if you want,” Merlin said, standing from the table and looking to Arthur, who rose to follow.
Morgause didn’t show them out, but neither Merlin nor Arthur had expected her to. The bouncer they’d met at the door let them out, and they stepped back into the crowds of Camelot as if they hadn’t just secured their role in starting a revolution.
“I’ll go back to Morgana and Gwen’s now,” Merlin said, though he didn’t want to leave Arthur’s company just yet.
“It would probably be best,” Arthur agreed, though he made no move to say goodbye, and they walked in companionable silence a little more.
“I’ll bring everything I can,” Merlin said as they walked through the square and paused on the bridge. The disembodied voice didn’t float from the well this time, thankfully. “Tomorrow,” Merlin clarified, drawing a nod from Arthur.
“And then we can figure out how to work our way through this mess,” he said, voice tired.
Merlin couldn’t do much but nod to that and watch as Arthur walked over the bridge and away, alone and looking so small compared to the bustle and life of the rest of the City.
.
| Part Twelve|
“The dragon is kept as an example of the beasts that caused the Flood,” Arthur said slowly, though he clearly didn’t believe the words, looking at Merlin for confirmation, unsurprised when Merlin shook his head sadly.
“The dragons were slaughtered long before then. Your Dragonlords enslave him, twist his magic until it literally burns inside of him. He’s dying and all your sorcerers do is torture him more.” Merlin gritted his jaw, wanting to tell Arthur about the atrocities his father was allowing, but knowing that there was more to the story that he had to tell before then.
For his part, Arthur was willing to listen. He’d so far asked questions in the right place and taken in everything Merlin had to say, but that was the easy parts of the story. Even telling him that what Arthur knew about dragons was a lie was easy, compared to the other secrets Merlin carried.
“Do you want to do this now?” he asked quietly, knowing that once he’d started, he wouldn’t stop. But he was giving Arthur a choice. They knew each other now, Merlin could find Arthur again if he had to, but it had to be Arthur who made the choice. It was his world Merlin was going to destroy, a world he had grown up in and lived in his whole life.
“Yes,” Arthur replied instantly, before he gave a light snort of laughter. “No,” he said a second later, smiling slightly at Merlin. “I don’t think I ever want to hear how corrupt the City is, but that’s no longer an option.”
He sprang off of the sofa, pacing the space between the television wall and the doorway to his bedroom.
“You’ve been through so much and you’re still here, willing to tell me everything even though I…” Arthur cut himself off, stopping mid-stride and turning his head to look at Merlin. “Even though I thought you were working for Nimueh and everything had been a ploy to get in my head.”
Merlin knew he wasn’t only referring to today’s actions and ducked his head slightly.
“If it helps, he said lightly, “I did steal some of your shirts.”
The look Arthur gave him made Merlin shift uncomfortably.
“My shirts?” Arthur said, half bemused and half annoyed. “Do I even want to know why?”
And before he could stop himself, Merlin channelled Gwen’s words from the morning after, “It wasn’t a trophy or anything.”
Arthur raised his eyebrow again, eyes darting to the side. “Okay then,” he said, drawling out the words before shaking his head. “I don’t expect you’ll give them back?”
Merlin knew he should give them back, he’d stolen the shirts after all, but they were nicer than anything he’d ever worn, including the clothes Gwen and Morgana had piled on him. Clearly a perk of being royalty, but Merlin didn’t want to hand them back. Silly as it sounded, he’d grown attached to the idea of having the dragon over his chest, even if he hadn’t fully connected the dots back then.
“They’re really nice clothes?” he tried, wincing slightly as Arthur gave him another odd look.
“You can keep them,” he muttered, coming to take his seat back on the sofa. “Not like I can’t afford more,” he added with a grin, looking at Merlin pointedly.
Merlin took the jibe how it was intended and smiled back at Arthur, nudging him with his foot as he stretched his legs out.
“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted after a moment of quiet. Merlin’s feet were still resting against Arthur’s crossed legs and neither made a move to separate.
“I want to know everything, but at the same time I know that nothing will be the same after that.” Arthur looked at Merlin, searching for something in his eyes.
“Is there anything we can ease into?” he asked, and Merlin knew he wasn’t expecting the answer he wanted.
There were little details that Merlin could tell him, and he said as much, though they would all eventually lead to the truth.
But, for now, Merlin told Arthur about the refugee camps, of the living conditions and the equal hope and despair of people having their children and loved ones taken away. When Merlin mentioned the Pickings, a dark look crossed Arthur’s face and Merlin wondered if he didn’t have to explain any of that because Arthur already knew… but then the look was gone, Arthur clearly wondering where the people were going rather than outright knowing.
He carried on, telling Arthur about Mordred and the other Urchin children, smiling as he remembered some of their antics.
“They didn’t care for rules or regulations,” Merlin said. “Mordred was one of the druids so he didn’t quite have the same wild element as the others, but they were all free. None of them listened to rules, but that was their way of living and it was good for them.”
The Wild Children had been free of society and made up their own rules. They’d accepted Mordred when he’d had no place to go, and even accepted Merlin the night before he’d gone to the Tower. He remembered their scraggy forms huddled together for warmth, and then how the Police had shot more than one of them just for fun, and looked at Arthur, wanting to tell him how horrible life was outside of the City.
“The Police make games out of shooting the children,” he said and Arthur’s shoulder stiffened. “One less Urchin child, all the better to them.”
“My father-“ Arthur began, but cut himself off. Merlin knew why; Arthur wasn’t an idiot and he knew there was something far worse to come. His father may be the king and good to the people here, but the people outside weren’t human, and Arthur knew how his father saw things.
“How much do you know about the world outside Camelot?” Merlin asked, the sudden change in conversation causing Arthur to look up in curiosity.
When he spoke, his voice was slightly unsure, as if Merlin knew far more than he could ever hope to understand.
“We’ve always been taught that the only people left in the world live in Sky Cities. I never had reason to question that until I heard my father and Nimueh talking, saying something about increasing the Pickings on the refugees outside.” Arthur paused, looking away from Merlin for a moment.
“I didn’t understand what it meant back then, but I wanted to know why my father didn’t tell me there were people who needed help.” Arthur sighed, leaning back against the cushion and running a hand through his hair again.
“I looked through a lot of books,” he continued, flashing a glance over at Merlin and smiling. “Proper books too, the old ones from before the Floods.”
Merlin had seen books, of course he had. Some of them had been waterlogged and some had been in perfect condition, and then there had been the book of dragons his mother had said belonged to his father… but he couldn’t imagine flipping through an endless amount of books, especially ones from centuries ago, as if it was no big deal.
“I found what I was looking for in the Chronicles of Beltane,” Arthur said and Merlin looked at him, recognising the name from the book Gaius had read from when he’d told Merlin about the Old magic and why he could use it.
“There is a prophecy, repeated over and over in the Chronicles, of a man who would have more power than the Ocean itself. He was named as the one person who would be able to save those in need, even in the blindness of humanity.” Arthur looked at Merlin, gaze unwavering.
“They called him Emrys, so I want searching. There were people out there who needed help and I thought that I’d be able to bring the mighty warrior here to help.” Merlin looked down, not knowing what to say. He was no mighty warrior, no glorified human or anything other than a young man.
“My Obsidian,” Arthur continued, holding the stone that was resting against his chest. “It was given to me by my mother, before she died. I was young, lost the memories of her, but I knew that I had to use it to find you.”
Merlin knew from what Kilgharrah had said that Arthur was smart. He’d made the Obsidian connect to the Stone Circle without a hint of magic, forced his dragon-holograph form through it and found Merlin. He was resourceful, sharp, and willing to see where everyone else turned their heads.
These facts also made him dangerous. If Merlin ever became a threat to Arthur, revealed something at the wrong time or acted to betray Arthur, he knew that Arthur wouldn’t feel regret for any action against Merlin. They weren’t friends, yet, and maybe their stances towards each other would change, but for now they were simply two people who had to work together. (Merlin promptly ignored the churn his magic threw out at the idea of Arthur hating Merlin. That could be dealt with another day.)
“The druids,” Arthur said next, frowning as he re-caught Merlin’s attention. “They live in the space between these two fences?”
Merlin nodded. He’d explained the land at the base of the towers, how there was the sea, the refugees, the walls and the spaces between them. He hadn’t explained further than getting past the wall, and he wondered how much he should explain now, about Gaius and Ygraine.
“My father used to live in Camelot,” Merlin said instead. “He had to leave, but he was friends with the queen and Gaius, your doctor?”
At Arthur’s slight smile, Merlin continued. “I met Gaius. He took me in at the druid camp, when I told him about my family and who I was.”
Shock was clear on Arthur’s face and Merlin knew that he couldn’t tell him about his mother just yet. If this was his reaction to Gaius, there was no telling how Arthur would react when he found out about Ygraine.
“My father said he transferred to another City,” Arthur murmured, loosening his grip on his Obsidian and letting the stone fall onto his chest.
“He knew the prophecies,” Merlin said quietly, “But he didn’t choose to leave Camelot.”
Arthur’s eyes were clear when he looked at Merlin. There was a heavy weight on his shoulders; Merlin could see it even though there wasn’t technically anything to see.
“It’s late,” he said suddenly, and Merlin started a little in surprise. It was true that it was late, but this was a bit more pressing than bedtime.
And then he looked at Arthur again, into his eyes and at the lines of tiredness on his face. It was then that Merlin realised something. All the time he’d been crossing the Ocean and climbing the Tower, he’d still had his goal, known what he had to do. Merlin had had Gaius and Ygraine, and Mordred and Aglain, and even the other druids. He had been supported, even though he’d never quite realised that.
But Arthur? He was a prince who knew that his kingdom was corrupt, that his own father was lying and that the whole world was twisted. Arthur had sat next to his father and with Nimueh knowing that there were people suffering, but there was nothing he could do because Merlin wasn’t there. Merlin may be the one who had the magical power, but Arthur was the one born to be a ruler, and he’d known about his people’s suffering and simply had to wait.
“You’re right,” Merlin rushed out, standing and tucking his Obsidian under his shirt. “I should go.”
Arthur opened his mouth slightly, before he shut it again, clearly thinking against whatever it was he was going to say.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” Merlin asked, unsure how he’d react if Arthur said no. Thankfully, Arthur nodded slowly.
“I won’t be here in the morning, but I’ll give you the code to get in. Just come around whenever,” he waved his hands around the room, “And help yourself to food, the TV, whatever.”
To anyone else, it may seem odd that Arthur was willing to open his doors to a stranger, but it was just a house to Arthur, and they had to get along.
“If you need me before,” Merlin said, shuffling to the door somewhat reluctantly. “Then I’m at Gwen and Morgana’s.”
Arthur nodded distractedly, handing Merlin a piece of paper with a four digit code on it. He pocketed the paper, letting Arthur lead the way to the door. Arthur opened it and Merlin lingered in the threshold, catching Arthur’s hand where it was resting on the doorframe.
“I know it’s not the best situation,” he began, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “Some of the things I have to say won’t be nice, but I just want you to know that I’ll be there until it’s all over. I want to be your friend, if you’ll have me.”
Merlin tried not to shift as he felt Arthur’s gaze inspecting him. He felt Arthur’s hand twitch under his and looked up, mirroring Arthur’s sudden smile.
“Careful Merlin,” he said, smirking slightly, “I might just have to take you up on that.”
The door closed as Merlin stepped back, a smile on his lips and heart heavier than it had been for weeks, months even. He’d finally found his dragon - Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot, Ygraine’s son - and now neither of them were alone anymore.
The walk back to Gwen and Morgana’s was slow, Merlin keeping his head down and thinking about what he needed to tell Arthur. The sky above was dark, but there were no stars and after a moment of trying to find them, Merlin looked away, disgusted. He missed the wind and the stars, the open Ocean and the sound of waves. None of that echoed around Camelot, at least not yet.
“Merlin!” Gwen gasped as soon as he opened the door, flinging her arms around him. “Where the hell have you been?”
Morgana was by their side in an instant, pale-faced and wide eyed.
“For fuck’s sake,” she said, pushing Gwen to the side slightly and whacking Merlin on the arm, hard. “I got a call from Gwen saying that you took off like a nutter and she had no idea where you went, then you’re not home for hours?”
She grabbed him, hugging him tightly, before pulling back and hitting his arm again.
“Where were you?” Gwen asked and Merlin looked at her, guilt coiling in his stomach as he took in her red eyes. She, and Morgana now that he looked twice, had been crying.
“I…” Merlin began, but he couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, could he? And it was very suspect suddenly taking off, but at the time, Merlin hadn’t been thinking. He’d needed to see Arthur there and then, needed to confirm everything that had suddenly clicked.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, but Morgana tsked and shook her head.
“Not good enough. We’re your friends Merlin, and you just left Gwen there thinking something awful had happened.” Morgana bit her lip and added, “Left me thinking that something awful had happened, considering…”
She cut herself off, Gwen shooting her a sharp look. Merlin caught it and his gaze darted between them, trying to place whatever it was together.
“Considering what?” he asked, voice low and curious. There was something strange in the looks Gwen and Morgana kept shooting at each other and Merlin realised there was something they hadn’t told him.
“Morgana,” he said firmly, catching her eye.
He was tired of the secrets and the lies. In truth, Merlin would have liked nothing more than to tell the girls everything, but that would place them in a dangerous position. He was already treading a thin line, what with stealing someone’s identity and sneaking into the City, but Merlin didn’t want to include Morgana or Gwen even further if he could avoid it.
“Morgause was asked to look out for someone,” she said, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. He felt his blood run cold and took a step back, shoulders resting against the closed door.
“She used to belong to the sorcerers, but left to found the Isle. Still, Nimueh knows her well and asked her a favour.” Morgana sighed. “It’s only because you came in with me that Morgause hasn’t told her.”
Gwen made as if to comfort Merlin, but she paused at his wide eyes and shaking head. He’d thought he was safe, and yet all this time, Nimueh had been searching for him? Had she known the moment he’d switched places with the guard or had he at least been able to get into the City and merge into the endless amount of people before she’d seen what he looked like.
“Morgause won’t tell her,” Morgana added hastily. “She wouldn’t betray me like that.”
He was almost about to ask how Morgana could know that in so much confidence, when he realised she had more to say, avoiding his eyes and sharing more fervent looks with Gwen.
“And,” Gwen said softly, Merlin turning his head sharply towards her. “She said you have magic, but that Nimueh wasn’t extending an invitation to the sorcerers.”
They both looked worried, but Merlin didn’t know how to quell the worries. He felt them, even stronger than they must be feeling, and though they weren’t turning him away right now, they hardly knew even a scratch of the truth.
“Whatever Nimueh wants from you,” Morgana said, voice fierce, “We can help you.”
Gwen was nodding at the words, determined look on her face, and Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. Here were two women he’d lied to, crashed into their lives and kept up a charade - one they’d known had to be a lie, for Morgause must have told them ages ago - and yet they were still willing to defend him, to go against the most powerful sorceress in the City, and all for a man they hardly knew.
“What if I’m a terrible person?” Merlin asked, cruel smile on his face. It felt odd, too sharp and wide, but what could he do? They didn’t know him and wouldn’t like him if they did. “What if I said that I lied to you this whole time, that I manipulated my way into your lives and used you?”
Merlin didn’t wait for a response, ploughing on, “What if you found out that I’d hurt people, betrayed people when they needed me? What if you found out I had the potential to destroy everything you knew… would you still want to help me then?”
“You idiot!” Morgana said, moving forwards to stare Merlin down. “Do you think we didn’t imagine all of that? That you were some criminal who had climbed the Tower and come to take revenge?”
She gave a harsh laugh, “Our scenarios are a thousand times worse than anything that could ever be the truth and you know what?”
Merlin could scarcely breathe, heart hammering in his chest at Morgana’s next words.
“We decided that we didn’t care.” She moved back to stand beside Gwen, face softening and sighing. “We decided that it didn’t matter, because whatever you did, it’s not who you are.”
The words took all the energy out of Merlin and he slumped against the door.
“Look,” Morgana said quietly, crouching down until she was level with Merlin. “Nimueh is not a nice person. Whatever she wants you for,” Morgana looked away shaking her head.
“Maybe,” Gwen cut in, “We should sit down and have some tea.” Merlin looked at her. “And maybe we can explain everything to each other.”
As Gwen went to the kitchen, Morgana and Merlin moved to the sofas. Merlin wondered if every serious conversation in his life was now going to take place on a sofa, but accepted the mug of tea Gwen came back with graciously. He jiggled his leg a little nervously as they were all seated, waiting for someone else to start.
“I have these… dreams,” Morgana began, legs crossed on the sofa and mug clutched in her hands. “I’ve always had them, but I never thought they were anything more than nightmares until Morgause found me.”
Merlin looked at her, waiting for more of the story.
“Morgause is my half-sister,” she said, and Merlin looked at her in surprise. He hadn’t been able to tell that, what with only knowing Morgause for a brief moment, but there had clearly been a connection between her and Morgana.
“She told me that it used to be a powerful gift, one that sorcerers of the past were able to channel and use for prophecy.” Morgana gave a slightly pained smile, “But that magic is all but dead and I only get the echoes haunting me.”
She looked at Merlin, eyes searching his. “Morgause hid me from Nimueh. If she’d discovered I had magic, I would have been recruited into the sorcerers.”
It was odd for Morgana to act this way, Merlin thought. To the public, the sorcerers of the City were good people, honest and working on ways to prolong Camelot’s life. But Morgana wasn’t exactly an ordinary person; she’d grown up at Court and knew more about what went on behind closed doors than almost everyone else.
Her situation was similar to Arthur’s in the fact that they were both placed in difficult positions. Arthur for what he knew, and Morgana for a power she had been born with. Both of them had had choices to come clean and confess what they knew, but they’d both chosen to side against Nimueh, something Merlin was indefinitely grateful for.
“There’s more to them than meets the eye,” Morgana hurried on. “Whatever Nimueh’s trying to find you for, she’ll drag you down and they’ll do terrible things, beyond imagining.”
Merlin gave a small snort of laughter, meeting Morgana’s shocked gaze.
“What makes you think she hasn’t already?” he said quietly.
This was what he’d wanted to admit all evening, but hadn’t been able to because Arthur wouldn’t be able to understand. For Arthur, even in the short time Merlin had known him, his father was important. Morgana had been hiding her gifts all her life and had a greater bond to think of with Morgause than worry about the king. Morgana, when she’d confided her secrets, hadn’t been rejected by the one person who loved her.
Arthur didn’t have anyone. Aside from Uther, who Merlin could guess was hardly a fatherly figure at best of times considering how Ygraine had talked of him and the pinch in Gaius’ face when they’d discussed certain matters, there wasn’t anyone else for Arthur to turn to. He’d had to reach out over an Ocean to find someone willing to help, that’s how alone he’d been.
At least Morgana had had Morgause, at least she understood what was at stake for Merlin and had given him something in return for the truth. She had trusted him with her secret, given him it as a token, so that neither of them had anything to lose anymore. That was why he could say these things to Morgana and Gwen, and why Arthur would have to wait.
“Already?” Gwen said, voice incredulous. “You can’t mean…”
Merlin ducked his head slightly, looking down at the tea in his mug. They didn’t need to know all the details, but he could share his story with them.
“I come from the Island of Ealdor,” he said, not meeting their eyes. “I washed up on Camelot and was found.”
Merlin knew that he couldn’t say too much. He couldn’t tell Gwen or Morgana about what Arthur had done, or about Gaius and Ygraine. They could know about him, but they couldn’t know everything Arthur was involved in.
“Nimueh wanted me because I have magic,” he said, skimming over the subject. “I escaped before she could get to me and lied my way into Camelot.”
“You mean you impersonated a member of Nimueh’s ranks,” Morgana stated curtly. “So what happened to that man you impersonated? Did you kill him?”
Looking up, Merlin knew that she didn’t buy all of his story. She knew there was something more, but he wasn’t going to tell her. That much belonged to Arthur, not Morgana, and he would keep it down to just him and Arthur as long as he could.
Besides, the more Morgana knew, the more she and Gwen were in danger. Arthur knew the risks, but the two here had no idea how big everything was.
“I switched places with him in my cell,” Merlin said flatly, not outright lying as he had switched places. “I expect that’s how Nimueh knew I’d escaped.”
Gwen gave a little gasp, rising on her knees, moving forwards to the sofa Merlin and Morgana were sitting on, throwing the little cushion nest she’d made into disarray.
“Merlin,” she said, catching his wrist. “You didn’t use your card did you, back at the Restaurant?”
Frowning, Merlin shook his head. “I don’t have my own cards or anything.”
“Exactly,” Gwen said, darting a look at Morgana. “What if Nimueh already knew and started tracking you back then?”
Merlin was about to dismiss the notion and to shake it off with a laugh, when he realised that Nimueh would have had plenty of time to realise what had happened. Merlin had been having blood work done, it was entirely possible that someone had called the room, or even visited, only to find Merlin gone and his guard strapped up.
There had certainly been time enough for the discovery to be made. Merlin had spent over a day there, walking down to the dragon and back, before entering Camelot. What if Nimueh had let him enter, if she’d simply watched as he negotiated the New World, waiting to strike.
But… then again…
“Wouldn’t she have done something by now?” Merlin asked, frowning and hoping desperately.
Morgana raised an eyebrow, smiling sadly. “She’d rather wait in hiding and corner you with no other option. Nimueh will wait weeks if she has to, let someone grow complacent and lazy, thinking their safe. But the moment you become open to strike,” Morgana leaned forwards, hissing, “That’s when she’ll take you down.”
Swallowing thickly, Merlin looked down at his tea again. It was tepid now, not suitable for drinking, but the earthy colour reminded him of home, of his mother and for all the reasons he was doing this.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly, wondering if they’d really ask him to leave.
Gwen’s hand on his wrist tightened.
“We’re all going to go to bed. It’s far too late for this sort of talk,” she said sternly, fixing Morgana with a look as she began to protest. “Then in the morning, we’re going to have breakfast early and Morgana and I will go to work, where we’ll try to find out something about Nimueh and how much she knows.
“When we come back, we expect you to be here.” Gwen squeezed his wrist again, firmer this time. “You can tell us what you need to and we will tell you what we’ve managed to find out.”
Morgana made a noise, as if she was about to say something in protest, but Gwen simply shot her a dark look and that was the end of that. Merlin was just beginning to learn that Gwen was a formidable force when she wanted to be.
“Merlin can tell us what he needs to and no more,” she reinforced, directing the words to Morgana. “He’s our friend and I think I speak for the both of us when I say that whatever this is, Merlin knows best about what he wants to reveal.”
Merlin felt the look Morgana shot him, as if she was unhappy about the whole thing and only obeying because it was Gwen, before Morgana stood and walked to her room, full mug left on the table.
Sighing, Gwen said, “I’m sorry about her.” She moved up until she sat next to Merlin. “All her life she’s had these dreams of someone sneaking into Camelot, being the first to come from the Islands. She dreamt of a terrible choice they’d have to make and how they’d change the world either way.”
She paused and was silent for a few moments.
“I don’t really want to know if you’re capable of changing the world,” she whispered, tucking her head against Merlin’s shoulder. “But Morgana told me about the terrible things that could happen either way, and if it really is you… then it doesn’t have to happen just yet.”
She sniffed and Merlin froze, not knowing what to do or say.
“We don’t have to lose you just yet,” Gwen said as she slid from the sofa and away into her room, leaving Merlin alone, staring at the wall with wide eyes.
What Gwen didn’t know, and Morgana probably only suspected, was that Merlin had heard similar words before. Kilgharrah had warned him of a choice he’d have to make, a terrible choice that would either save them all or condemn them. If Morgana was a Seer as Merlin suspected, not someone who simply saw the echoes of magic, then she had the power to see the future and see what Merlin’s choice would be.
He sighed, burying his head into his hands. When had everything become so complicated and twisted? Morgana and Gwen were never supposed to know about his true identity, and now that they had, they wanted to know more. Sure they’d respected his boundaries, but Merlin had already told them far more than he’d ever wanted to.
He ran his fingers through his hair, mind racing. He had to see Arthur tomorrow, and tell him about Morgana and Gwen, but did he come back? He could just run away from Morgana and Gwen, let them think he was a callous bastard in the end, but at least they wouldn’t know more.
Yet, if Nimueh already knew who he was, it wasn’t a far cry to assume that she also knew about Gwen and Morgana. Even if he left, would Morgana and Gwen be safe?
There was only one person who would be able to help him out there. There was one person who had already protected Morgana and Merlin knew would continue to protect her, and through her, Gwen. It meant that he’d have to visit Morgause, but it would be worth it in the end.
Plus, Merlin knew Arthur would come too. That’s just how it was now; him and Arthur through everything. Not even Morgana or Gwen could come close to the bond Merlin had with Arthur, though their relationship was rocky and fledgling.
It took a while for Merlin to sleep that night, but when he eventually did, his Obsidian was around his neck and his dreams were of a golden dragon curled around a throne.
.
Merlin ignored the stare pressing against him in favour for looking at the door. Arthur was standing, slightly hunched with his hands in his pockets, by Merlin’s side, eyes fixed on Merlin.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he muttered, for what had to be the hundredth time.
“Yes,” Merlin hissed back, nudging Arthur with his shoulder a little. “It is. Morgana said that Morgause protected her so we can trust her.” Merlin hoped that Arthur couldn’t hear the slight shake in his voice and that he’d just accept the situation for what it was.
Except Arthur was still staring at him and Merlin knew he’d never accept it for what it was.
The morning had passed far too easily. Gwen, Morgana and Merlin had had breakfast, Gwen and Morgana had gone to work and Merlin had gone to Arthur’s as soon as he could, spending the day flicking between Arthur’s books and the blinding programmes on the TV, far more enchanted with the books.
Arthur had returned to the house haggard and grim-faced, pausing in the doorway slightly as he’d caught site of Merlin sprawled over his sofa.
“You’re here,” he’d said, voice tired, and Merlin had jolted up from reading, looking at Arthur blearily.
“Yeah,” he’d replied, smiling widely as his magic coiled warmly in his chest, just how Merlin imagined dragon’s fire to.
It was only lunchtime and Arthur explained that he’d managed to get off general princely duties for the afternoon by saying he had some matters to attend to. Apparently Uther respected Arthur a great deal, for he’d simply waved his son off home and wished him luck with the projects.
They’d eaten more New Food, tasteless, easy to cook stuff as Arthur hadn’t been able to pick anything up, and Merlin had told him about Morgana and Gwen.
“You know how I said I lived with Morgana and Gwen?” Merlin had begun, and Arthur had raised an eyebrow over the forkful of suspicious blue mush he was eating. “Well, they may have accosted me when I got back last night.”
In his defence, Arthur waited patiently until Merlin was done before he burst out laughing, eyes crinkling.
“I wish I’d seen your face,” he said, setting his fork down and looking at an un-amused Merlin. “I bet horror looks good on you.”
They’d settled into an amiable relationship, set on jibes and laughs at each other, feeling their boundaries and testing them. Arthur was a good person, Merlin had come to realise, and he knew Arthur felt similar.
He’d gone on then to explain why they needed to visit Morgause and how she could be important in whatever upcoming battles they had to face - metaphorical or not.
So Arthur had taken them through the busier parts of Camelot, passing over the little bridge that led to the square, leaving the disembodied voice begging for wishes behind, and through the square. He continued leading them, pointing out places of interest to Merlin in a way that Merlin knew was instinctual and made Arthur feel more in-control of the situation.
The building they’d ended up at, Merlin had realised, was the Isle. It looked smaller than it had the night they’d been here, and Merlin shot Arthur a quick look, wondering what memories the Isle brought back for him.
The door opened and a burly man looked at them, scanning them with his eyes before stepping back and nodding.
“Morgause is down the hall, the smaller door,” he huffed out, letting Arthur and Merlin in.
“So much for forgetting,” Arthur muttered, falling into step beside Merlin as they walked down the stairs, heading for the door Morgana had taken him to first of all.
“Somehow I don’t think this is a conversation we’d want to forget.” Merlin stopped before the door. “Besides, not everything’s good to forget, is it?”
It was the only time they’d mentioned the night between them at the Isle in the open, and Merlin wondered if he’d been an idiot to bring it up.
Arthur looked at him, warm smile just curling the edges of his lips. “No,” he admitted, “I don’t suppose it is.”
It was a simple admission, and to anyone else it might have seems that the conversation was innocent, but Merlin remembered part of that night and clearly so did Arthur. They hadn’t spoken of it, but hearing Arthur say that he hadn’t forgotten, that he didn’t want to forget, sent a thrill through Merlin and he hid his smile, ignoring the way his magic wriggled inside of him.
There was another reason why Merlin would never tell Morgana and Gwen the same as he’d tell Arthur. His magic didn’t respond in the same way to them as it did Arthur, wanting to curl around him and pull him close. Though he could shake it off, say that his magic was simply remembering the night they’d spent, and how Merlin had never felt it before because he’d never done it before, but that would only be a half-truth. His magic, though it had been dulled at the Isle before, had sought Arthur out willingly. His magic liked Arthur just as much as Merlin did and had chosen to form a connection with the man, for whatever reason.
The door to the room the bouncer had said Morgause would be in was open. The club was strange, lit up brighter than it had been so that it looked normal, not like the mysterious place you came to to forget, but the magic pulsing through the building was much the same.
As they stepped into the room, Merlin shivered at the sudden weight of magic, focused solely on him now that Morgana wasn’t in the room, and Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder, worry evident on his face.
“I’m fine,” Merlin said quickly, “It’s just this place has so much magic running through its walls.”
He almost added that the magic wanted him to use it, but he hadn’t quite explained about that to Arthur in a way that didn’t make him sound like a madman who went around picking up stray strands of magic like it was nothing. Magic, to the rest of the world, was a dying force that people were using the ability to use.
Arthur knew that the strongest sorcerer was losing her grip on her magic and even though he knew that Merlin was powerful, it was a bit much to explain he could technically just draw out every inch of magic in the City with very little effort.
“Oh,” Arthur replied, shooting a look around the room. “I thought it felt different.”
Merlin wondered if Arthur could feel the magic stronger than anyone else without magic. He remembered Ygraine’s horrified confession that her son had been born with the use of magic, how his life had sacrificed a child taken during the Pickings, and that had to have a direct link to what Arthur could feel, surely?
Whatever Nimueh had done, a spell, an enchantment, a curse… it had t ohave left Arthur with some sense for magic, latent or otherwise. He had to be able to feel the magic in the room more powerful than what someone without his history could, though he doubted that Arthur knew why, or even suspected he could have been born due to magical means.
“I thought you might come,” a voice said, and Morgause walked into the room with a grim look on her face. “Though I did hope otherwise,” she added, looking Arthur up and down before turning to Merlin.
“And I’ll admit I never thought you would bring the prince himself here. Morgana mentioned she saw you with a companion, but she was never able to pick the person out.” Morgause gave them a wary smile, taking a half-step back gesturing for them to go through the door she’d just entered in.
Merlin picked his way forwards through the dim room, ignoring the hiss of magic as it tried to lull him in, tried to merge with his own, and stepped through the doorway with Arthur just behind him.
Instantly, the atmosphere changed, almost as if they’d stepped into a completely new building. The light was brighter, the air fresher, and Merlin realised that this was where Morgause lived, that her home was directly connected to the Isle.
He didn’t even want to think about what the constant feel of the magic was like and turned his attention to Morgause and Arthur, who were both taking seats around a table, situated in the centre of the room. It was the only object in the room, but somehow it didn’t make the room seem empty or unused.
“I take it that you know Morgana had dreams of you?” Morgause asked, curt and to the point. She seemed a formidable woman, even more so than Morgana, and that was saying something.
“She explained about her nightmares to me last night,” Merlin began, looking at Arthur, who nodded, even though he hadn’t been there. The support was well-intended, though, and Merlin was grateful for it.
“That doesn’t answer why you’d be here,” said Morgause, eyes flickering from Merlin to Arthur and pausing for a moment. “But I can guess it’s one of a few things.”
She put her elbows on the table in front of her, looking directly to Merlin and linking her fingers, waiting for what he had to say.
Swallowing, Merlin began, “I don’t want Morgana or Gwen involved.” Morgause didn’t look surprised by the statement, but her face softened slightly.
“It’s obvious that you know more about Nimueh than they do, and while I have no idea if you know the truth, I know I can trust you to protect them if Nimueh decides to go after them because of their association with me.” Merlin looked at the table, running a finger over the smooth wood.
“I don’t want to leave them,” he said softly, and it was true. They were his friends, people who were willing to sacrifice whatever they needed to to help him, but Merlin couldn’t let them. They were never supposed to have changed their lives for him, yet that is exactly what they had done and were prepared to carry on doing.
“But I value their safety and that’s why I have to go.” Merlin looked at Arthur, remembering the other conversation they’d had earlier. Merlin had explained the situation, and Arthur had sat there with a frown, letting Merlin think it through before coming up with his proposal.
“You can come and live with me,” he’d said, calmly and openly. Merlin had looked at him sharply, asked if he was sure, and Arthur had simply nodded.
“You’ll be here a lot of the time anyway and no one will expect you to be friends with the prince if you’re a revolutionary.” Arthur had grinned, almost wickedly, “All I have to do is back everything my father and Nimueh say, not obviously so it looks like I have something to hide, and you can stay here without anyone the wiser.”
They’d hashed out a basic plan, that Merlin would go to Morgana and Gwen and tell them a few truths. After that, they’d go to work and during that time, Merlin would pack everything and leave without a trace. It was cold hearted, but he couldn’t let them be dragged into this too.
Morgause sighed, bringing Merlin back to the present day. She tilted her head, letting blonde curls cover her face slightly, before she turned her gaze to Merlin once more.
“You realise that Nimueh is going to realise I’m against her if I do this?” she said, sounding weary of the situation already.
“Yes,” Arthur said simply, as Merlin failed to think of a counter. “But I can speak for the both of us when I say we want to keep Morgana safe. We’ve never got on, you and I, but you want Morgana to be safe more than anything. If Nimueh knew that Morgana was tied to Merlin, what would she do?”
The venom in Morgause’s glare directed to Arthur was visible from where Merlin was sitting. He’d know they had their differences, but Merlin had never realised how much Morgause and Arthur’s history laid between them. Still, Arthur had made a good point, and Merlin hoped it would be enough.
“I’ve had to take the measures I did because of what your father did,” Morgause hissed, look furious. “Your father forced me to turn my back on my teachers, my career and all of my friends. I was shunned from the moment I walked away from the sorcerers and all because your father would have forced my sister to comply with the sorcerers too. I might have enjoyed the work, but Morgana was never meant for it. Your father-“
“He’s Morgana’s father too,” Arthur stated simply, calmly.
Merlin’s eyes widened. Morgana had never mentioned anything about being related to Arthur or the king, and neither had Arthur. Everyone else knew Morgana as the king’s ward so the information had to be classified to some degree, but the way Arthur had said it was so casual, it was if he’d known for a long time, come to acceptance of the fact even.
“And that makes it better?” Morgause said in disgust, fury flashing in her eyes.
“No,” Arthur reasoned firmly. “But if Uther was going to bend the rules for anyone, it would have been Morgana. You knew that, Morgana knew that, and yet you both chose to turn away from Nimueh.”
Merlin waited patiently, knowing that this was not a conversation he could just enter. This was something deeper than just asking Morgause for help, it was proving to her that she needed to help them, and the only person who would be able to convince her would be Arthur.
“What was I supposed to do?” Morgause said, still glaring at Arthur and unwilling to lose the fight. It was a quality Merlin admired and knew would come in handy, if they managed to get her on their side.
“Exactly what you did,” Arthur said, resting his elbows on the table, mirroring Morgause. “But don’t blame me for something that my father did. I am not him, and I thought I made that clear by showing up with Merlin today, but it seems you need a deeper explanation.”
Arthur took in a deep breath before he spoke. “My father has controlled my life ever since my mother died.” Merlin listened intently, wanting to know about Arthur’s life and what had driven him to this moment.
“Ever since I was a child, all I’ve known is that my father gets the final say on everything, from who I make friends with, to what I eat, how I dress and what I’ve learnt about.” Arthur clenched his jaw, but refused to take his eyes from Morgause. “I’ve been the perfect prince for a long time, but that didn’t make me a nice person.”
Morgause gave a harsh chuckle, “Such as when you found out about Morgana? You said you would get on a boat and sail away where no one cared.” She gave a withering look in Merlin’s direction, “It sounds so melodramatic, but he was going to do it. He had guards tracking him around the City for weeks.”
Her voice was gleeful, but Merlin could hear the malice behind it.
“I was a brat,” Arthur said, “Though when you’ve spent your life being told how much your father loved his wife and found out he was having it off with another woman behind her back all the while, it changes your behaviour a little. I think even you, Morgause, can acknowledge that, considering you were the one who told me.”
Morgause rolled her eyes.
“My point it, my father is a different man to who I am. He’s tried to shape me in his image, but if he’d been successful, would I be asking for your help today?” Arthur tilted his chin and Merlin looked at him, amazed by the shift he’d brought on with that slight movement. He wasn’t playing Morgause’s game anymore, he was telling her what she had to do and giving her straight choices.
Morgause looked at Arthur, hard, for a moment, before she suddenly turned to Merlin pointing a finger at him
“Why is Nimueh so interested in you?” she asked. “And don’t give me some half worked story that you no doubt told Morgana. She’s willing to believe more things than I am and if I find out that you’ve lied to me, there’s nowhere in the whole of Camelot that can hide you.”
It was a test, Merlin knew, and he rose to the challenge, meeting Morgause’s eyes without fear or regret.
“Because she’s afraid of me,” he said simply, as it was the honest truth. Merlin knew too much, was too powerful, and it scared Nimueh enough for her to take action against him.
Morgause laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “What is there to be afraid of? That you’re an unchecked sorcerer in the City? There’s more than one of those and she’s never been this ruthless.”
She sat back in her chair, arms slipping from the table, as she regarded Merlin casually, digging out the truth.
“I know about what they’re doing to the thousands of people in the Tower. I know that they’re using the Obsidian circle and the last dragon to force magic from those people. I know that they hunt and kill refugee children without any remorse,” Merlin said, voice low as he leant forwards.
“You don’t think that I know that? Anyone let into the sorcerers is told that, made to sign pacts of allegiance stating they’d never reveal that publically.” Morgause shot Arthur another weighted look. “No one ever expects to leave the sorcerers, because when you do, you’re not on either side. You can’t be in the public because you know the atrocities, but you can’t stay with the people doing it because you chose not to.”
She looked away, “No one likes doing it, Merlin, but we all stood together and got through it, because we were all the same. People with magic who were helping the non-magical people and keeping Camelot alive.”
She smiled bitterly, grimacing as the smile curled. “When I chose to protect Morgana, hide her gifts, I had to turn my back on all the people who accepted me. Do you know how horrible it is to wake up every morning and know the truth, but that you can’t do anything to change it, or even speak about it?”
There was silence for a moment, before Merlin spoke softly.
“I do,” he said. “Every night of my life before I found Arthur.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur start and look at him, but he couldn’t pay mind to that now, not when he needed Morgause to understand what he was doing here and how much they needed her help.
Merlin told her about Ealdor, about thinking he could save everyone because of the Obsidian and how he’d caused everyone to die. He told her about the refugee camps, how many people had simply given up hope and the others who were clinging to it desperately. He then told both her and Arthur about the druids, how they’d told him about his magic and the prophecy, how Aglain had trained him and how others had taken him in, looked after him.
Morgause had been silent when he’d told them that friends were taken during the Pickings, and her face paled when Merlin explained how he’d offered himself up freely, calling for the Police to scan him, capture him when it could well have been the end of his life.
“I woke up inside a cell, something I doubt anyone else is able to.” Merlin looked at Morgause, “Not because they don’t want to, but because I have more magic than they could take out of me.” He shook his head. “I switched places with my guard, which is how Nimueh found out about me… but you knew I’d done that.”
Morgause nodded slowly and Merlin continued, not daring to look at Arthur. He hadn’t told the prince this part of the story yet, of the Pickings and everything that came with it, and he didn’t want to see Arthur’s face just yet.
If Merlin had a choice, he would never have told Morgause all of this. He hadn’t know how difficult getting her help was and, despite what Arthur had said when he’d mentioned the plan first about how tough it would be, realised that now he had to play all his cards, no matter the personal cost.
It didn’t matter that it felt wrong telling someone else these things, someone who wasn’t Arthur, because Merlin had to do it. Morgause had the power to help Gwen and Morgana as well as give them needed information about Nimueh. They needed her on their side, or else she could choose to reveal them to Nimueh.
“I went to talk to the Great Dragon, Kilgharrah,” Merlin said and Morgause arched an eyebrow.
“He spoke to you?” she asked, incredulously.
“My father was a Dragonlord,” Merlin explained, and did look at Arthur this time. “Balinor; he was friends with your mother.”
There were so many little connections between him and Arthur, Merlin was beginning to realise, and wondered if there was someone else the prophecy had mentioned, something everyone had overlooked because they weren’t the person with the magic to right the world. He’d have to read through Arthur’s copy of the Chronicles of Beltane to find out, but there had to be more than just coincidence.
“He was exiled from Camelot when he discovered the truth. He chose not to sign any agreement of silence and he suffered, though he wasn’t the only one who was forced to leave,” Merlin said, looking away and down at his hands on the table.
It would be so easy now, just to say that Ygraine was alive and that everything Arthur knew was an even bigger lie. And Merlin would have, really, except Morgause didn’t need more fuel to the fire against Arthur, and Arthur would likely never forgive him if he blurted out now. So Merlin took the easier way out, choosing only to tell them about Gaius.
“Gaius, the court physician, was also exiled when he learnt the truth,” Merlin said, and Arthur jerked in his chair.
“Then the Gaius I knew and the one you mentioned are the same?” Arthur asked a beat later, remembering one of the conversations they’d had through the Obsidians.
Merlin nodded. “I didn’t know until later,” he said. “Otherwise I would have told you.”
Arthur gave him a look, as if he doubted that Merlin would have, but then shook his head and relaxed in his seat, waiting for the rest of what Merlin had to stay.
“My point is,” Merlin continued, looking at Morgause. “That I am going to stop what Nimueh and the others are doing. I have the power to do it and I have Arthur to help me. Together, we’re going to save every single person who is being tortured in the Tower, and we are going to help the people dying outside of the gates simply because they’re not good enough for Camelot.”
At first, Merlin had assumed it was an issue of space, but now he was in Camelot, now that he’d seen the New World, he realised that that wasn’t the issue at all. There was plenty of space in Camelot itself, and development could be undertaken on the Tower itself, let alone the support towers. There was so much potential, but it had been cast aside because the people on the ground weren’t better than vermin in the eyes of the king and his sorcerers.
“And what we came here for today,” Merlin continued, nodding at Arthur, “Was to see if you would protect people we cared about and help us save those you didn’t get the chance to.”
Merlin knew that Morgause was a good person. She had to be to protect Morgana from living with the same burden that she did. That didn’t mean that she had to help them, though, but Merlin hoped she would.
“You have to leave her as soon as you can,” Morgause said, and Merlin only just refrained from breaking into a smile, hearing the acceptance in her voice.
“And you can’t come here anymore. I’ll find someone to act as a go-between, but we can’t see each other, in public or private. I don’t trust Nimueh and if there’s a way she can find you, she’d use it no matter the cost.” Morgause eyed Arthur heavily for a moment. “That’s how she’s always been,” she said slowly, and Merlin knew that she had at least guessed the truth behind Arthur’s birth.
Still, she shook her head and her eyes cleared, obviously sensing that now wasn’t the time and that it wasn’t her place to be the one to tell Arthur.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, surprising both Merlin and Morgause. “You didn’t have to do this for us and while I know it’s more for Morgana’s sake than ours, we’re still grateful”
For a moment, Morgause didn’t say anything, simply looked at Arthur oddly. Then she half-smiled, acknowledging Arthur with a nod of the head, before she turned to Merlin.
“Morgana will want to know where you are and if you’re alright,” she said, though it sounded as if she thought Morgana was crazy for wanting to know. Merlin didn’t blame her; Morgause clearly cared for her own and her own alone. Merlin was an outsider, Arthur too, and she would never have agreed to do business if Morgana hadn’t been at risk.
“You can tell her I’m safe, and that you’re in contact with me if you want,” Merlin said, standing from the table and looking to Arthur, who rose to follow.
Morgause didn’t show them out, but neither Merlin nor Arthur had expected her to. The bouncer they’d met at the door let them out, and they stepped back into the crowds of Camelot as if they hadn’t just secured their role in starting a revolution.
“I’ll go back to Morgana and Gwen’s now,” Merlin said, though he didn’t want to leave Arthur’s company just yet.
“It would probably be best,” Arthur agreed, though he made no move to say goodbye, and they walked in companionable silence a little more.
“I’ll bring everything I can,” Merlin said as they walked through the square and paused on the bridge. The disembodied voice didn’t float from the well this time, thankfully. “Tomorrow,” Merlin clarified, drawing a nod from Arthur.
“And then we can figure out how to work our way through this mess,” he said, voice tired.
Merlin couldn’t do much but nod to that and watch as Arthur walked over the bridge and away, alone and looking so small compared to the bustle and life of the rest of the City.
.
| Part Twelve|