Six of One: 1
Title: Six of One
Rating: PG-13 but see warnings
Warnings/Spoilers: set in season 5 but no specific spoilers. Character Death.
Word Count: 9673
Summary: History repeats itself. Arthur and his Queen cannot have children, they turn to Mordred, a child of the Druids, and seek their answer in magic. They trade a life for a life. The Queen is ready and willing to make the sacrifice for the future of Camelot. But magic never weaves straight.
Authors Note: written for a kinkme_merlin prompt HERE . Not a happy ending. I feel kind of bad about that. Was written as gen but some bits may be seen as unrequited Merdred feels from Mordred. Title comes from old saying: Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
Read on AO3
Mordred could feel the eyes on the back of his neck. They weren’t merely watching but assessing, always judging, waiting for Mordred to slip. It was not a comfortable sensation, it trickled and crawled. The ancient magic within Emrys sweeping his entire being inside and out, searching for the flaws.
“Mordred.”
Mordred blinked from where he had been staring into nothing, absently running a whetstone up and down his sword, to see the King stood before him in the armoury, still decked out in his fine armour, his eyes face drawn serious.
“Sire,” he replied deferentially, shifting on his perch on the bench.
“Queen Guinevere and I would like for you to join for dinner this evening.”
Mordred felt Emrys’ stare intensify against his back, he struggled not to squirm. “Of course my lord.”
“Excellent,” Arthur announced before turning to sweep from the room. “Merlin!”
Mordred turned just in time to see Emrys’ stare on him and the uncomfortable frown between his eyebrows before he escaped the room after the Once and Future King. Mordred couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief.
--
Mordred dressed and redressed many times before he found himself stood outside the royal quarters that night. He fidgeted and laid a hand gently over the plain wooden door. He could feel it; the power running through the grain, spreading out like a net around the King and Queen’s room. The warm, earthly magic could belong to none other than Emrys. Mordred studied its intricate patterns, the complexity of the protection and then blinked when the door opened and Emrys himself was staring back at him.
“Sir Mordred,” Emrys nodded, pulling the door back into the room.
Mordred swallowed and nodded back, stepping through the enchantments cloaking the room, feeling them wash over his skin like water. Inside the room was warm, lit with a multitude of burning torches and a large fire in the ornate fire place.
“Ah, Sir Mordred,” Arthur greeted with a smile, standing from the head of the small chamber table. His Queen was already sat at his side and gave Mordred a smile. “Please, come. Sit.”
Mordred swallowed and gave Emrys one last look, almost of permission, before he stepped forward. He sat at the table slowly, startling when Emrys leant forward to pour him a goblet of wine.
“Thank You,” Mordred said quietly.
There was almost silence as Emrys placed the dishes on the table before them all. Mordred clasped his hands beneath the table tightly and sat with a straight back. The King and Queens chambers these might be, but Emrys’ presence and magic were stamped all over them like a golden glow and Mordred felt like a trespasser on a scared place.
“Merlin,” the King barked once the table had been laid. Emrys snapped his head up from the servant’s position he had taken in the shadows by the wall. “You are dismissed for the evening, we can see to ourselves.”
“Arthur-“ Emrys blinked, taking an aborted step forward, his eyes flicking fearfully to Mordred for a moment before fixing back on his king.
Arthur just leant back, rolling his eyes. “I’m giving you the night off you idiot, do you really want to argue with me?”
“I heard Gwaine and Elyan were going to the tavern this evening, maybe you can join them,” the Queen spoke, giving Emrys a small smile.
Emrys rolled his eyes. “They’re always in the tavern.”
“Just go before I change my mind and send you to muck out the stables.”
“It’s pitch black out!” Emrys responded incredulously.
“What’s your point?”
“Fine,” Emrys huffed, his gaze flicking back up to Mordred fiercely once more, his eyes telling Mordred of swift retribution were anything to happen in his absence. Like anyone could possibly lay a finger on the royal couple within these protected chambers. The door shut behind the servant as he left and Mordred turned back to the smiling royal couple before him. He picked up his goblet and took a large gulp and hoped to the Gods neither of them choked on so much as a grape during this dinner.
--
The meal was quite pleasant; the Queen enquired about Mordreds life since Arthur had seen him last and seemed quite perturbed to discover he had been in a Druidic camp Uther had stormed.
“They are truly peaceful people,” Mordred explained. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn my Lord,” he spoke to Arthur quickly but although the King was frowning, it was in thought rather than displeasure and motioned for Mordred to continue. “Of course magic can be used for wrong, for death and hatred and revenge but…I have seen it heal the sick, create fires to keep us warm, enrich food when we were hungry, summon water when we were thirsty…”
Mordred trailed off staring back at the two Royals who were watching and listening in rapture.
“Magic,” the Queen spoke quietly, capturing her husband hand in hers, “it can be used to create a life can it not?”
“Yes,” Mordred spoke slowly, his gaze flicking back and forth between man and wife. “In some circumstance it has been known to do so.”
Queen Guinevere turned and looked at her husband pointedly who sighed deeply, lifting their connected hands and placing a kiss to the Queen’s knuckles. He turned back to Mordred with sombre eyes. “We cannot produce any offspring.”
“Sire?” Mordred answered in shock.
“The Queen and I… we have tried and been unsuccessful to produce an heir,” Arthur continued, his gaze drifting to the table. “The times are too dangerous to leave the throne unprotected, especially with Morgana around….” The King took a deep breath, lifting his blue eyes to stare straight at Mordred. “We want to enlist your help, and that of magic, to create an heir, a child.”
Mordred blinked and then blinked again and looked at the Queen’s serious face and back again. “You want me to use magic?”
“Yes,” Arthur nodded, squeezing his wife’s hand. “We have discussed it at great length and we… this I what we wish.”
“Sire,” Mordred began weakly, leaning forward in his chair. “You must know that is it not as simple as just lighting a flame. It’s forcing the balance of life and death. There will be a price.”
“We understand.”
“And are you willing to pay that price?”
“Yes,” Queen Guinevere spoke strongly. “Yes I am willing. For the future security of our kingdom.”
The royal couple looked at each other for a moment before Arthur sent his wife a small sad smile and turned back to the knight sat in shock before them both. “Will you do this for us Mordred? Will you help us and Camelot?”
“Yes sire,” Mordred responded at a whisper. “I would be honoured.”
--
Merlin had trotted around after Arthur all day, sending jibes and jokes in the King’s direction, trying to get some kind of response. But today it seemed the King’s mind was on greater things than his servant’s idiocy, his gaze set far away, his frown troubled and thoughtful.
After the council session Merlin stood in the King’s chambers carefully peeling Arthur’s red cloak from his back.
“You’d think after all these years you would have learnt to do this yourself,” Merlin quipped, hanging the cloak carefully over the changing screen for later.
“Hmmm,” Arthur mumbled in response, rounding his desk, eyes down on the papers on it.
Frowning, Merlin shook his head and stepped forward. “Alright, what is it?”
“What?” Arthur said blinking up at Merlin from his desk.
“You,” Merlin huffed. “You’ve missed at least three very good opportunities to mock me today. Something is definitely wrong.”
“Not now Merlin,” Arthur sighed, rifling through the papers on his desk. “I have too many things to do.”
“Arthur,” Merlin spoke softly, his face creasing in real concern. “Tell me.”
The King sighed, his gaze flicking up to his servant then to the blue sky blanketing above them through the window and took a deep breath. “Guinevere and I can’t have children.”
“Oh,” Merlin breathed in shock. “Oh Arthur, I’m sorry.”
But the King waved away his concern, his gaze still fixed resolutely out the window, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“There are options,” Merlin continued coming to stand at the side of the desk in hopes Arthur would look at him. “You could take one of the Knight’s children as a ward; train them to be your successor…”
“No,” Arthur replied, turning his gaze back down to the desk. “The Kingdom is not stable enough; there would be too much grey area for them to govern successfully. The only way to secure the future stability of Camelot is to have a successor whose rights are not in question.”
“Arthur, you have time. You don’t need to sort all this out now.”
“But I do Merlin,” Arthur replied hotly. “Don’t you see? Did Ismere not teach you anything? I could have died, perished in those tunnels had Mordred not saved me and I would have left my people unprotected.”
“So what will you do?” Merlin whispered, staring at his King with compassion in his eyes.
Arthur’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the entire Kingdom visible on them for that one moment. “What I must,” he replied sombrely, straightening his shoulders.
Something in his tone, that steadfast, stubborn tone that always preceded Arthur doing something reckless and dangerous, always ‘for the good of the Kingdom’, made Merlin straighten and look more intently at his King and Destiny.
“Arthur,” he said lowly. “What are you planning to do?”
Arthur fidgeted for a moment, before he took a breath and spoke with a steady voice. “Magic. We are going to use Magic to help us conceive.”
“Arthur no!” Merlin blurted out before he could stop himself. He leaned forward, his hands resting over the papers Arthur was pretending to read, but he could not fool Merlin. “Arthur there is another way, there must be! Did you not learn from the mistakes of your father?”
“I am not ignorant to what will be asked for Merlin,” Arthur replied shortly, staring at Merlin with burning blue eyes. “I am aware that there will be a price, and that I will lose that most dear to me. Trust me I am aware.”
“You may think you can prepare for the loss Arthur but it -“
“Do not presume to tell me what the loss of my wife will feel like Merlin. She is -” Arthur broke off and shook his head helplessly. Merlin swallowed and felt the aching loss that Arthur was preparing himself for. Merlin had felt it, multiple times over the years, and wouldn’t wish it upon anybody. But the King pulled himself taller and carried on gruffly, “but she has agreed it is for the best.”
“There is always a price Arthur,” Merlin cautioned urgently, “and you may not always know what it will be.”
“The balance is will be kept, don’t worry.”
Merlin blinked at stood back for a moment, weighing and considering all that had been said before a haunting realisation came over him. “You’ve already gone to some about this… Who?”
“…Mordred.”
The name punched through Merlin’s mind like a physical blow. “Mordred,” he whispered weakly. “But he’s just a boy-”
“He’s a druid,” Arthur interrupted. “He knows of their ways and teachings. He said he is capable.”
Merlin swallowed down the panic and impending doom he could feel coming upon him, this moment he was in, he could feel it, as he had felt countless moments before, where this conversation in this place could sway the tides of time. He leaned forward trying to catch Arthur’s eye and spoke seriously.
“You are trying to force the balance of the world in your favour Arthur.”
“I’m done talking about this now Merlin,” Arthur spoke dismissively, pointedly picking up a scroll of parchment and settling back in his chair. “Don’t you have something to clean?”
“Arthur, please,” Merlin continued urgently. “I’m talking to you as your friend. You don’t know the powers you are dealing with here.”
Arthur looked at Merlin with hard eyes over his papers. “And I am talking to you as your King: get back to work.”
Merlin swallowed and saw the stubborn set to Arthur’s eyes, the thick set to his jaw. The hurt of his dismissal was nothing compared to the fear growing rapidly inside him. He could feel the storm clouds building on the horizon and a familiar feeling of helplessness surrounded him. As soon as he was able, he left the chambers, his heart clamouring in his chest for a resolution.
--
Mordred felt him coming before he saw him. It was no surprise to him now that Emrys could find him wherever he fled, the ancient one’s ties to Magic so close all he needed to guide him was his senses.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Emrys’ cold voice spoke to Mordred’s back. Mordred looked out over the town of Camelot, hands resting lightly on the castle walls where he stood.
“I was just taking a moment to myself Emrys,” he responded purposefully ignorant. “I did not mean for my presence to disturb you.”
“You know that is not what I am talking about,” Emrys hissed coming to stand right behind him. Mordred didn’t turn but he could feel the heat from Emrys’ body and the sizzle of his power beating against his back. “You have told Arthur you will grant him a child, that you will use magic to do so. What do you think you are playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything,” Mordred said, gritting his teeth to retain his anger, his frustration. “It is doable, and they know of the consequences.”
“Do you?” Emrys growled. “These powers are much too ancient for a boy to play God with.”
Mordred twisted around now, coming nose to nose with the leader of his people, the saviour of his race, stood before him in tattered clothes, the servant to an ignorant King. He hated it. And he hated the sneer of distrust he saw every time he looked upon this prophesied being.
“Just because you are too afraid, too much of a coward to use the gifts you were born to Emrys, does not mean that I am not!”
“I am wise enough not to mess with such things!” Emrys shot back, gold power glinting in warning around the edges of his eyes.
Mordred’s magic felt the urge to cower, to kneel and plead forgiveness, but he swallowed it back and hardened his eyes. “The King has requested it and I am will do as he asked. You cannot sway me.”
He swept then passed Emrys’ still form and made for the door to the castle. Perhaps if he retired to his chambers he would get some peace for once.
“Mordred,” Emrys’ voice called out to him, its soft pleading tone stopped Mordred in his tracks, but he did not turn. “If you had any care for Emrys… I am asking you not to do this.”
Mordred swallowed back the tears wanting to spill and set his jaw. “I am sorry Emrys but you are no longer my king and Arthur has asked this of me. I will not deny him.”
Mordred walked away, his back to Emrys and did not look back.
--
Merlin tried and continued to try to convince Arthur, even Gwen, to not do this. All he succeeded in doing was make Arthur furious and make Gwen cry. The more he tried the more stubborn Arthur became and the further and further Merlin felt pushed away, sent on errands only to return to find Mordred leaving the royal chambers.
The knight’s eyes would meet his and skitter away quickly leaving before Merlin could even muster a reproving look.
They were all speeding towards a wall and Merlin was helpless to stop any of it.
--
Merlin felt it before Arthur announced to the council that Guinevere was expecting. He felt the balance of the world begin to tip beneath them all and his magic clamoured to correct it. But Merlin grit his teeth and served wine at the celebratory feast, kept his mouth shut and stuck to the shadows.
It was a mark of the downhill turn to his relationship with Arthur that Arthur hadn’t told him before, in fact they hadn’t spoken all day since the announcement was made.
That night Merlin absently went through the rotes of preparing the chambers, lighting the fire, dousing the candles. Arthur stood in his night clothes absently running through the reports on his desk.
“You know,” the king spoke into the silence of the night, startling Merlin from his distracted gaze into the fire, “a man who claims to be my friend would have congratulated me on the news of a child.”
Merlin snapped his gaze around from his crouch by the fire to stare at Arthur incredulously. “You want me to congratulate you? Really?”
“Merlin,” Arthur sighed. “This is what Guinevere and I want, we have made our choice, why can’t you accept that?”
“Because it will end in disaster.”
“I don’t want to lose a friend over this Merlin.” Arthur looked up with wet eyes. “My wife will be gone and I will need all the help and support I can get.”
“Then I am happy for you,” Merlin said standing up from his crouch. “But I cannot support this.”
Merlin left the chambers without another word and stayed awake all that night, trying to follow the tendrils of magic to see where this all would lead. When morning came his eyes itched from lack of sleep and the sun made his head pound and he still had no answers.
The Queen continued to blossom and grow the life within her, thriving with the magic used to create it. Merlin watched from afar as the King and Queen spent more solitary hours locked away together and felt he balance tip more wildly under his feet.
Part Two
Rating: PG-13 but see warnings
Warnings/Spoilers: set in season 5 but no specific spoilers. Character Death.
Word Count: 9673
Summary: History repeats itself. Arthur and his Queen cannot have children, they turn to Mordred, a child of the Druids, and seek their answer in magic. They trade a life for a life. The Queen is ready and willing to make the sacrifice for the future of Camelot. But magic never weaves straight.
Authors Note: written for a kinkme_merlin prompt HERE . Not a happy ending. I feel kind of bad about that. Was written as gen but some bits may be seen as unrequited Merdred feels from Mordred. Title comes from old saying: Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
Read on AO3
Mordred could feel the eyes on the back of his neck. They weren’t merely watching but assessing, always judging, waiting for Mordred to slip. It was not a comfortable sensation, it trickled and crawled. The ancient magic within Emrys sweeping his entire being inside and out, searching for the flaws.
“Mordred.”
Mordred blinked from where he had been staring into nothing, absently running a whetstone up and down his sword, to see the King stood before him in the armoury, still decked out in his fine armour, his eyes face drawn serious.
“Sire,” he replied deferentially, shifting on his perch on the bench.
“Queen Guinevere and I would like for you to join for dinner this evening.”
Mordred felt Emrys’ stare intensify against his back, he struggled not to squirm. “Of course my lord.”
“Excellent,” Arthur announced before turning to sweep from the room. “Merlin!”
Mordred turned just in time to see Emrys’ stare on him and the uncomfortable frown between his eyebrows before he escaped the room after the Once and Future King. Mordred couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief.
--
Mordred dressed and redressed many times before he found himself stood outside the royal quarters that night. He fidgeted and laid a hand gently over the plain wooden door. He could feel it; the power running through the grain, spreading out like a net around the King and Queen’s room. The warm, earthly magic could belong to none other than Emrys. Mordred studied its intricate patterns, the complexity of the protection and then blinked when the door opened and Emrys himself was staring back at him.
“Sir Mordred,” Emrys nodded, pulling the door back into the room.
Mordred swallowed and nodded back, stepping through the enchantments cloaking the room, feeling them wash over his skin like water. Inside the room was warm, lit with a multitude of burning torches and a large fire in the ornate fire place.
“Ah, Sir Mordred,” Arthur greeted with a smile, standing from the head of the small chamber table. His Queen was already sat at his side and gave Mordred a smile. “Please, come. Sit.”
Mordred swallowed and gave Emrys one last look, almost of permission, before he stepped forward. He sat at the table slowly, startling when Emrys leant forward to pour him a goblet of wine.
“Thank You,” Mordred said quietly.
There was almost silence as Emrys placed the dishes on the table before them all. Mordred clasped his hands beneath the table tightly and sat with a straight back. The King and Queens chambers these might be, but Emrys’ presence and magic were stamped all over them like a golden glow and Mordred felt like a trespasser on a scared place.
“Merlin,” the King barked once the table had been laid. Emrys snapped his head up from the servant’s position he had taken in the shadows by the wall. “You are dismissed for the evening, we can see to ourselves.”
“Arthur-“ Emrys blinked, taking an aborted step forward, his eyes flicking fearfully to Mordred for a moment before fixing back on his king.
Arthur just leant back, rolling his eyes. “I’m giving you the night off you idiot, do you really want to argue with me?”
“I heard Gwaine and Elyan were going to the tavern this evening, maybe you can join them,” the Queen spoke, giving Emrys a small smile.
Emrys rolled his eyes. “They’re always in the tavern.”
“Just go before I change my mind and send you to muck out the stables.”
“It’s pitch black out!” Emrys responded incredulously.
“What’s your point?”
“Fine,” Emrys huffed, his gaze flicking back up to Mordred fiercely once more, his eyes telling Mordred of swift retribution were anything to happen in his absence. Like anyone could possibly lay a finger on the royal couple within these protected chambers. The door shut behind the servant as he left and Mordred turned back to the smiling royal couple before him. He picked up his goblet and took a large gulp and hoped to the Gods neither of them choked on so much as a grape during this dinner.
--
The meal was quite pleasant; the Queen enquired about Mordreds life since Arthur had seen him last and seemed quite perturbed to discover he had been in a Druidic camp Uther had stormed.
“They are truly peaceful people,” Mordred explained. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn my Lord,” he spoke to Arthur quickly but although the King was frowning, it was in thought rather than displeasure and motioned for Mordred to continue. “Of course magic can be used for wrong, for death and hatred and revenge but…I have seen it heal the sick, create fires to keep us warm, enrich food when we were hungry, summon water when we were thirsty…”
Mordred trailed off staring back at the two Royals who were watching and listening in rapture.
“Magic,” the Queen spoke quietly, capturing her husband hand in hers, “it can be used to create a life can it not?”
“Yes,” Mordred spoke slowly, his gaze flicking back and forth between man and wife. “In some circumstance it has been known to do so.”
Queen Guinevere turned and looked at her husband pointedly who sighed deeply, lifting their connected hands and placing a kiss to the Queen’s knuckles. He turned back to Mordred with sombre eyes. “We cannot produce any offspring.”
“Sire?” Mordred answered in shock.
“The Queen and I… we have tried and been unsuccessful to produce an heir,” Arthur continued, his gaze drifting to the table. “The times are too dangerous to leave the throne unprotected, especially with Morgana around….” The King took a deep breath, lifting his blue eyes to stare straight at Mordred. “We want to enlist your help, and that of magic, to create an heir, a child.”
Mordred blinked and then blinked again and looked at the Queen’s serious face and back again. “You want me to use magic?”
“Yes,” Arthur nodded, squeezing his wife’s hand. “We have discussed it at great length and we… this I what we wish.”
“Sire,” Mordred began weakly, leaning forward in his chair. “You must know that is it not as simple as just lighting a flame. It’s forcing the balance of life and death. There will be a price.”
“We understand.”
“And are you willing to pay that price?”
“Yes,” Queen Guinevere spoke strongly. “Yes I am willing. For the future security of our kingdom.”
The royal couple looked at each other for a moment before Arthur sent his wife a small sad smile and turned back to the knight sat in shock before them both. “Will you do this for us Mordred? Will you help us and Camelot?”
“Yes sire,” Mordred responded at a whisper. “I would be honoured.”
--
Merlin had trotted around after Arthur all day, sending jibes and jokes in the King’s direction, trying to get some kind of response. But today it seemed the King’s mind was on greater things than his servant’s idiocy, his gaze set far away, his frown troubled and thoughtful.
After the council session Merlin stood in the King’s chambers carefully peeling Arthur’s red cloak from his back.
“You’d think after all these years you would have learnt to do this yourself,” Merlin quipped, hanging the cloak carefully over the changing screen for later.
“Hmmm,” Arthur mumbled in response, rounding his desk, eyes down on the papers on it.
Frowning, Merlin shook his head and stepped forward. “Alright, what is it?”
“What?” Arthur said blinking up at Merlin from his desk.
“You,” Merlin huffed. “You’ve missed at least three very good opportunities to mock me today. Something is definitely wrong.”
“Not now Merlin,” Arthur sighed, rifling through the papers on his desk. “I have too many things to do.”
“Arthur,” Merlin spoke softly, his face creasing in real concern. “Tell me.”
The King sighed, his gaze flicking up to his servant then to the blue sky blanketing above them through the window and took a deep breath. “Guinevere and I can’t have children.”
“Oh,” Merlin breathed in shock. “Oh Arthur, I’m sorry.”
But the King waved away his concern, his gaze still fixed resolutely out the window, his eyes suspiciously bright.
“There are options,” Merlin continued coming to stand at the side of the desk in hopes Arthur would look at him. “You could take one of the Knight’s children as a ward; train them to be your successor…”
“No,” Arthur replied, turning his gaze back down to the desk. “The Kingdom is not stable enough; there would be too much grey area for them to govern successfully. The only way to secure the future stability of Camelot is to have a successor whose rights are not in question.”
“Arthur, you have time. You don’t need to sort all this out now.”
“But I do Merlin,” Arthur replied hotly. “Don’t you see? Did Ismere not teach you anything? I could have died, perished in those tunnels had Mordred not saved me and I would have left my people unprotected.”
“So what will you do?” Merlin whispered, staring at his King with compassion in his eyes.
Arthur’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the entire Kingdom visible on them for that one moment. “What I must,” he replied sombrely, straightening his shoulders.
Something in his tone, that steadfast, stubborn tone that always preceded Arthur doing something reckless and dangerous, always ‘for the good of the Kingdom’, made Merlin straighten and look more intently at his King and Destiny.
“Arthur,” he said lowly. “What are you planning to do?”
Arthur fidgeted for a moment, before he took a breath and spoke with a steady voice. “Magic. We are going to use Magic to help us conceive.”
“Arthur no!” Merlin blurted out before he could stop himself. He leaned forward, his hands resting over the papers Arthur was pretending to read, but he could not fool Merlin. “Arthur there is another way, there must be! Did you not learn from the mistakes of your father?”
“I am not ignorant to what will be asked for Merlin,” Arthur replied shortly, staring at Merlin with burning blue eyes. “I am aware that there will be a price, and that I will lose that most dear to me. Trust me I am aware.”
“You may think you can prepare for the loss Arthur but it -“
“Do not presume to tell me what the loss of my wife will feel like Merlin. She is -” Arthur broke off and shook his head helplessly. Merlin swallowed and felt the aching loss that Arthur was preparing himself for. Merlin had felt it, multiple times over the years, and wouldn’t wish it upon anybody. But the King pulled himself taller and carried on gruffly, “but she has agreed it is for the best.”
“There is always a price Arthur,” Merlin cautioned urgently, “and you may not always know what it will be.”
“The balance is will be kept, don’t worry.”
Merlin blinked at stood back for a moment, weighing and considering all that had been said before a haunting realisation came over him. “You’ve already gone to some about this… Who?”
“…Mordred.”
The name punched through Merlin’s mind like a physical blow. “Mordred,” he whispered weakly. “But he’s just a boy-”
“He’s a druid,” Arthur interrupted. “He knows of their ways and teachings. He said he is capable.”
Merlin swallowed down the panic and impending doom he could feel coming upon him, this moment he was in, he could feel it, as he had felt countless moments before, where this conversation in this place could sway the tides of time. He leaned forward trying to catch Arthur’s eye and spoke seriously.
“You are trying to force the balance of the world in your favour Arthur.”
“I’m done talking about this now Merlin,” Arthur spoke dismissively, pointedly picking up a scroll of parchment and settling back in his chair. “Don’t you have something to clean?”
“Arthur, please,” Merlin continued urgently. “I’m talking to you as your friend. You don’t know the powers you are dealing with here.”
Arthur looked at Merlin with hard eyes over his papers. “And I am talking to you as your King: get back to work.”
Merlin swallowed and saw the stubborn set to Arthur’s eyes, the thick set to his jaw. The hurt of his dismissal was nothing compared to the fear growing rapidly inside him. He could feel the storm clouds building on the horizon and a familiar feeling of helplessness surrounded him. As soon as he was able, he left the chambers, his heart clamouring in his chest for a resolution.
--
Mordred felt him coming before he saw him. It was no surprise to him now that Emrys could find him wherever he fled, the ancient one’s ties to Magic so close all he needed to guide him was his senses.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Emrys’ cold voice spoke to Mordred’s back. Mordred looked out over the town of Camelot, hands resting lightly on the castle walls where he stood.
“I was just taking a moment to myself Emrys,” he responded purposefully ignorant. “I did not mean for my presence to disturb you.”
“You know that is not what I am talking about,” Emrys hissed coming to stand right behind him. Mordred didn’t turn but he could feel the heat from Emrys’ body and the sizzle of his power beating against his back. “You have told Arthur you will grant him a child, that you will use magic to do so. What do you think you are playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything,” Mordred said, gritting his teeth to retain his anger, his frustration. “It is doable, and they know of the consequences.”
“Do you?” Emrys growled. “These powers are much too ancient for a boy to play God with.”
Mordred twisted around now, coming nose to nose with the leader of his people, the saviour of his race, stood before him in tattered clothes, the servant to an ignorant King. He hated it. And he hated the sneer of distrust he saw every time he looked upon this prophesied being.
“Just because you are too afraid, too much of a coward to use the gifts you were born to Emrys, does not mean that I am not!”
“I am wise enough not to mess with such things!” Emrys shot back, gold power glinting in warning around the edges of his eyes.
Mordred’s magic felt the urge to cower, to kneel and plead forgiveness, but he swallowed it back and hardened his eyes. “The King has requested it and I am will do as he asked. You cannot sway me.”
He swept then passed Emrys’ still form and made for the door to the castle. Perhaps if he retired to his chambers he would get some peace for once.
“Mordred,” Emrys’ voice called out to him, its soft pleading tone stopped Mordred in his tracks, but he did not turn. “If you had any care for Emrys… I am asking you not to do this.”
Mordred swallowed back the tears wanting to spill and set his jaw. “I am sorry Emrys but you are no longer my king and Arthur has asked this of me. I will not deny him.”
Mordred walked away, his back to Emrys and did not look back.
--
Merlin tried and continued to try to convince Arthur, even Gwen, to not do this. All he succeeded in doing was make Arthur furious and make Gwen cry. The more he tried the more stubborn Arthur became and the further and further Merlin felt pushed away, sent on errands only to return to find Mordred leaving the royal chambers.
The knight’s eyes would meet his and skitter away quickly leaving before Merlin could even muster a reproving look.
They were all speeding towards a wall and Merlin was helpless to stop any of it.
--
Merlin felt it before Arthur announced to the council that Guinevere was expecting. He felt the balance of the world begin to tip beneath them all and his magic clamoured to correct it. But Merlin grit his teeth and served wine at the celebratory feast, kept his mouth shut and stuck to the shadows.
It was a mark of the downhill turn to his relationship with Arthur that Arthur hadn’t told him before, in fact they hadn’t spoken all day since the announcement was made.
That night Merlin absently went through the rotes of preparing the chambers, lighting the fire, dousing the candles. Arthur stood in his night clothes absently running through the reports on his desk.
“You know,” the king spoke into the silence of the night, startling Merlin from his distracted gaze into the fire, “a man who claims to be my friend would have congratulated me on the news of a child.”
Merlin snapped his gaze around from his crouch by the fire to stare at Arthur incredulously. “You want me to congratulate you? Really?”
“Merlin,” Arthur sighed. “This is what Guinevere and I want, we have made our choice, why can’t you accept that?”
“Because it will end in disaster.”
“I don’t want to lose a friend over this Merlin.” Arthur looked up with wet eyes. “My wife will be gone and I will need all the help and support I can get.”
“Then I am happy for you,” Merlin said standing up from his crouch. “But I cannot support this.”
Merlin left the chambers without another word and stayed awake all that night, trying to follow the tendrils of magic to see where this all would lead. When morning came his eyes itched from lack of sleep and the sun made his head pound and he still had no answers.
The Queen continued to blossom and grow the life within her, thriving with the magic used to create it. Merlin watched from afar as the King and Queen spent more solitary hours locked away together and felt he balance tip more wildly under his feet.
Part Two