[fanfic] Why We Fight - Part Ten (Merlin/Arthur)
Merlin woke up to find Arthur gone and Will leaning against a tree not so far off.
“Will? Where’s Arthur?” Merlin asked, scrambling to his feet and looking around for any trace of the prince.
“He went on ahead, to Stafford. Said to let you rest,” Will answered a little too unconcerned for Merlin’s liking.
“You let him run off to Stafford on his own?!” Merlin shouted. “Without even a sword?”
“He wanted to get there as soon as possible, and didn’t want us getting involved,” Will said, as if Merlin didn’t look close to murdering him, or at least giving him a good kick in the ass. “Much as I hate to say it, but he was right, Merlin. It’s not your battle to fight. You owe nothing to Camelot.”
“Not my battle to fight?” Merlin repeated. “Of course it’s my battle to fight. Arthur is the Once and Future King. He’s my King. If I’m not to help him, then what are my powers for?”
“To get Carmarthen back on its feet, not help the bloody prince of Camelot,” Will scowled.
“There will be no Carmarthen, no Albion, if Arthur gets himself caught or killed!” Merlin snapped. With a wave of his hand, the bedroll rolled itself up and joined the rest of the packs dumped by Will’s feet. From there, they bundled up and loaded onto the two horses nearby. “I’m going to Stafford. Whether you come with me or not is your choice.” Merlin breezed past Will and mounted the horse he’d been riding for the past several days.
With a huff, Will climbed onto his own horse and said, “Like I’m leaving you alone in this stupid kingdom.”
Merlin gave him a smile before kicking his horse into motion. They had to travel fast; Arthur had at least a few hours of travel ahead of them, and Merlin did not want Arthur confronting the priestesses or Sigan alone by any chance. He also tried not to wonder if Arthur had purposefully timed last night’s confession to give Merlin the slip.
Riding fast, Stafford was only two days’ ride from Cameliard. It was morning, just an hour after dawn that they reached the city. Merlin cast a quick spell to hide the scar on his face before he and Will entered the city. Merlin knew from his nightly conversations with Arthur back in the Carmarthian refuge that the city’s castle had been claimed by the Northumbrians and was being renovated to suit their needs. As such, Lancelot lived, not in the castle, but in a large manor house just outside.
There were only a few guards stationed outside of the house, which Merlin was grateful for, and they didn’t stop Merlin and Will from knocking on the door. A servant answered the door, and Merlin briefly wondered if Arthur’s cousin was the type to own slaves. If he and Gwen were indeed in love with each other as Arthur claimed, then given Gwen’s disapproval of slavery, Lancelot might not, and that definitely gave Merlin respect for the man.
“How may I help you?” the servant asked.
“We need to speak to Sir Lancelot. It’s a matter of great importance,” Merlin said, trying to adapt a voice that broached no argument or questions-a voice he’d picked up from Arthur, truthfully.
The servant looked at him and then Will before bowing his head. “Right this way please.”
They followed the servant into the house, down a hallway to a pair of closed doors. The servant gestured for them to wait before slipping inside. Moments later, one of the doors swung open and they were greeted with a view of a library, the walls lined with shelves stuffed to the brim with books.
“Come in. Sir Lancelot will see you,” the servant said, waving them in.
Merlin, with Will in tow, stepped inside and saw even more of the room, including a table where two people sat quietly conversing. One of them was Gwen, who looked up at his entrance.
“Merlin!” She was crossing the room before he could answer, and to his surprise, she pulled him into a hug.
“It’s great to see you, Gwen,” he said, daring to give her a hug back. And he remembered. He wasn’t a slave anymore; he was free, despite the scar he’d hidden from his face. Gwen pulled away and looked him up and down.
“You look well,” she remarked with a smile before looking over at Will.
“Gwen, this is Will, my brother-in-law. Will, this is Lady Guinevere,” Merlin introduced. “She’s…Arthur’s fiancé.”
Grimness settled in for the first time since that night outside of Cameliard. Gwen was Arthur’s fiancé, even if he had to feelings for him. Whatever Merlin and Arthur shared, the…fondness they had for each other, Arthur had responsibilities to his kingdom and Albion. Merlin was but an ex-slave, and a man, and a sorcerer. But the disappointment and hopelessness that settled inside weren’t unfamiliar; he had spent thirteen years enslaved after all. He would get through this, he reassured himself, even if whatever he and Arthur were beginning to share couldn’t survive.
And then all his thoughts grinded to a halt when Gwen said, “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’m not anymore.”
“You’re not?” he asked. Gwen shook her head, smiling knowingly. If he hadn’t been in shock at the moment, he would have groaned, recalling the conversation they’d had before he and Arthur fled Astolat.
“My father broke off the engagement after what had happened, you know, in Astolat,” she explained.
“Oh…”
“Yes. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? Not that I hated the idea of marrying Arthur,” Gwen quickly corrected herself. “Not that Arthur will make an awful husband. It’s just-I mean, I told you before. He’s like family to me; I don’t love him like that. But he isn’t bad-at least he’s-” She caught herself from continued and flushed a little.
Merlin laughed and said, “It’s all right. I understood what you meant. I’m glad for you.” And for Arthur, though the thought of that was a little too selfish and very much too hopeful.
“Yes, well…” Gwen looked over at Will and gave him a warm smile. “Anyways, hello, Will. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello.” Will gave her a stiff little bow that would have made Merlin laugh in other circumstances.
“You must be Merlin.” Merlin looked over to the man who’d come over to stand behind Gwen’s shoulder. He assumed that this was Lancelot. Arthur’s cousin was good looking, but with nearly the complete opposite complexion-olive skin, dark eyes and dark brown hair. He dressed as any knight in leisure did-loose tunic, trousers tucked into boots and a sword hanging from his belt. “I’m Lancelot.” He held out a hand to Merlin to shake. “I’ve heard great things about you,” Lancelot remarked as Merlin shook his hand. His grip was strong, but not threateningly so, just firm and confident. His smile was warm and genuine, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” he replied. Lancelot gave him a nod before turning to Will.
“Hello, good to meet you, Will.” He offered Will his hand as well, and to Merlin’s relief, Will stepped forward and shook his hand. It seemed Will’s issue with Camelot nobles lied with mainly Arthur; Merlin wasn’t really surprised. “I’m guessing you’re looking for Arthur?”
“Yes. Is-was he here?” Merlin asked, leaning forward and failing to hide his slight desperation.
“He arrived yesterday night. Gwen and I were hard-pressed to convince him to rest before going off to accuse the Northumbrians,” Lancelot said. “I haven’t seen him today. He could still be sleeping; he came in quite late yesterday night. Let me sent someone up.” Lancelot stuck his head out the door and told a servant in the hallway to go upstairs to check on Arthur.
During the wait, Gwen gently took hold of Merlin’s wrists. “He freed you,” she said, looking at his bare neck.
Merlin nodded. “He asked me to take them off.” When Gwen gave him a perplexed look, he grinned and said, “I got my magic back.”
“Merlin, that’s wonderful,” Gwen said. “Is that why…?” She gestured to his left cheek.
“I can’t remove it,” Merlin said. “I’m just hiding it. It’s pretty recognizable after all…” Gwen’s smile faltered, worry wrinkling her brow. “I’m all right, really. I mean. I’m free, and I have my magic back!” And he had Arthur¬-maybe, hopefully, at least for a while. At the very least, Arthur would be willing to acknowledge him as Emrys, advisor to the Once and Future King. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Then, the servant hurried into the room and announced, “The prince has left the house.”
He was answered with a chorus of “What?!” Merlin was at the door in seconds, ready to run out after Arthur at any moment. But he paused when Lancelot asked, “Did anyone see which way he went? The guards?”
The servant nodded. “He was heading towards the Temple of the Old Religion, sir, the one the Northumbrians just finished building.”
Merlin cursed under his breath. “That clotpole, he’s gone to confront the priestesses-and Sigan-all by himself,” he hissed. “Lancelot, please show me where the temple is. We’ve got to save Arthur.”
Lancelot nodded, and they soon were out the door and out of the manor house, Gwen and Will following closely behind them.
The temple was located by the western side of the wall surrounding the castle. It hadn’t been difficult to spot, its architecture so different from all the buildings around it. While the building itself was rectangular in dimensions, its façade was lined with columns reaching to the very top of the building, and a set of sweeping stairs went from the street up to the large set of double doors serving as the entrance.
Merlin had only seen one temple dedicated to the Old Religion before, and it had been old and slightly crumbling with the priestesses exiled. He didn’t take the time to appreciate the grandeur of this newly built temple, instead rushing up the stairs to the doors. The others were close at his heels.
“You’re Nimueh’s servant. I should have figured you were a sorcerer as well,” they heard Arthur’s voice echo through the temple the moment they entered.
“I’m not just any old sorcerer, Prince Arthur, and I’m not Nimueh’s servant.” Merlin recognized that voice, but it was no longer sycophantic; it was harsh and unwavering and unsettled him even more than it had before. It was Cedric’s voice. And everything became clearer, in particular that one conversation he’d overheard from the priestesses and Cedric, who probably wasn’t even Cedric at all. Merlin picked up his pace, running through the winding hallway. He wondered vaguely how voices could project through the building from so far away, but it probably had something to do with the interior architecture, which Merlin had no time to worry about now. All he cared about was reaching Arthur before it was too late.
“Who are you then? And what exactly do you want with me?” Arthur was saying.
“Do you really think a sword will do you any good? I am the one of most powerful sorcerers in history, Cornelius Sigan.” Merlin stopped breathing for a second, and then cursed at Arthur. The prince didn’t stand a chance against Sigan, and Merlin had no clue if he did either. “As for what I want with you, you’ll find out shortly.”
“What are you-?!” Merlin’s heart clenched when Arthur was cut off, and he could see Lancelot’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye.
They reached the heart of the temple a few seconds later, just in time to see Arthur slump onto the ground and a strange blue smoke surround him, travelling into his body through his parted lips.
Possession, Merlin realized Sigan and the priestesses’ goal much too late. The transferring of Sigan’s soul into Arthur’s body. With Sigan in possession of Arthur, he could easily gain hold of Camelot. Then, with Arthur’s birthright, the strength of Camelot’s army, and Sigan’s magic alone, the rest of Albion would easily fall to them like dominoes. And Arthur, Arthur’s soul would be trapped within his own body, unable to do anything but watch as Sigan took over his life and Albion.
“No! This can’t happen!” Merlin shouted, rushing forward.
A string of no no no no no streamed through his mind, alarm growing as the last of the blue smoke disappeared into Arthur. He stumbled as the ground shook, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of his slipping control over his magic due to his panic or if it was before Arthur had just risen from the floor, eyes glowing an unnatural electric blue. Sigan-Arthur-Sigan laughed, and the sound made Merlin’s skin crawl, because such a twisted laugh was something he’d never expected to hear with Arthur’s voice.
Sigan hadn’t spotted him yet, flexing Arthur’s arms and hands as if learning how to move his body, and Merlin surged forward, ready to launch himself at the distracted sorcerer even if he had no clue how to get him out of Arthur’s body. Vaguely, he knew he wasn’t thinking straight, hadn’t been since he heard Sigan reveal himself, but he just wanted Sigan out of Arthur. Suddenly, arms wrapped themselves around his own, and he let out an indignant grunt, struggling against their hold on him. It was Lancelot and Will, pulling him away from the large room, pulling him away from Sigan and Arthur’s body.
“Let me go!” he hissed, struggling even harder. He thought fleetingly of using his magic, but it was slipping out of his control just like his panic was, and even in his state of mind he knew he couldn’t risk hurting them. They dragged him back into the hallway and kept going, Gwen looking on with a pale, drawn expression. “I have to save him! I can’t let Sigan do this!”
“Cool it, Merlin. I didn’t grow up with sorcerers, with you, for nothing,” Will growled, jostling him a little. “You can’t just jump into a fight with Sigan without preparing. That’d be ridiculous, even for you.”
“But he has Arthur!” Merlin protested, although he’d sagged a bit, allowing the two men to drag him along. He turned his head and gave Lancelot a withering look. “He’s your cousin, your friend. How can you possibly leave him behind like this?!”
“I don’t exactly have much choice, do I?” Lancelot replied, jaw clenched and eyes stormy. “If he is as powerful as he claims, we cannot run headlong into a battle. We need to think and plan ahead. And I have a feeling you don’t know quite how to deal with that sorcerer yet.” Lancelot gave him a raised eyebrow, and Merlin scowled at him. He gave in though, if only because he needed to be calm and rational in this situation, and only he was reacting so badly to what had happened. To defeat Sigan, he knew that he would need help.
Back at Lancelot’s manor house, they sequestered themselves in the library room from before. Merlin looked at the others seated at the table around him. Lancelot looked brooding and just a little dangerous, a wrinkle in his brow and a downward turn on the corners of his lips. Gwen, looking worried but not cowed, had her hands clenched in the folds of her skirts, and like Lancelot, she stared at the tabletop, biting her bottom lip and furrowing her brow. Will simply looked as sour as ever, giving Merlin a glance that asked what Merlin intended to do next. Merlin sighed, and the others took that as a signal to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, though he thinks really should be saying it to Arthur. “I should have figured it out sooner. And I should have known Arthur would be stupidly noble enough to go off and fight them on his own.”
“What exactly happened back there?” Gwen asked. “Because I know what I thought I saw, and I…just want to be sure.”
“Sigan transferred his soul from Cedric’s body into Arthur’s. He’s controlling Arthur right now,” Merlin explained with a grimace.
“…and Arthur?” Lancelot asked.
“He’s still in there. He can see everything Sigan does, but can’t stop him,” Merlin explained. Although, with a lesser sorcerer, Merlin wouldn’t have been surprised if Arthur managed to break free of possession through willpower alone. Unfortunately, they were dealing with Sigan.
“That’s horrible,” Gwen said. Lancelot grimaced, and even Will wrinkled his nose.
“Gwen told me you were a sorcerer,” Lancelot said, “and Arthur mentioned it too, yesterday night, but are you powerful enough for this Sigan?”
Will snorted. “Merlin’s very existence is part of Carmarthian legend. He’s powerful all right.”
“Will,” Merlin hissed when Lancelot and Gwen looked at him with wide eyes. Merlin sighed and crossed his arms. “Power’s nothing if I don’t know how to use it, and I don’t know how to get Sigan out of Arthur’s body.”
“Then what are we to do? The priestesses and Sigan are planning to take over Albion using Arthur, aren’t they?” Lancelot said.
“I’m going to have to ask for advice,” Merlin said.
“From the dragon?” Will asked, once again startling the others into staring at Merlin.
“Dragon?” Lancelot and Gwen repeated.
“Yes. I’m a Dragonlord-the last one too, apparently,” Merlin said with a frown. “I’ll call the Great Dragon and ask him what I need to do to get Sigan out.” And hope Kilgharrah gave him a straight answer, Merlin thought to himself.
After he’d promised them that he wouldn’t confront Sigan before telling them what the dragon told him, Merlin rushed out of the city on horseback. He headed for the mountains that nearly shadowed Stafford, using a bit of magic to spur his horse a little faster. He stopped in a grassy flat stretch of land on the very edge of the mountain and dismounted, tying his horse to a tree before walking further out towards the center of the valley.
“Kilgharrah!” Merlin shouted into the heavens, following with the roaring words that beckoned the Great Dragon to him.
He’d suppressed the nearly consuming panic from before down to a low, manageable level of anxiety during his talk with the others. Still, it coursed through his veins and kept him for sitting down to wait for the dragon’s arrival. Instead he paced back and forth, wearing a small indent into the ground.
Kilgharrah arrived ten minutes later, his large wings sending gusts of wind that nearly knocked Merlin to the ground.
“Merlin, I see you have control of your magic again,” the dragon remarked upon settling on the ground.
“Yes, I do,” Merlin said, giving him a quick smile, though he knew it was strained.
“And what do you require from me, young warlock?”
“It’s Arthur. Cornelius Sigan is working with the priestesses. He’s possessed Arthur.”
“Hmm. That is quite unfortunate.”
“Please, I have to know how to get Sigan out. You know I can’t lose Arthur.”
“You and Arthur are two sides of a coin, bound together by destiny and the magic of the land. You were born to bear each other’s burdens. Take his burden, and the rest will follow,” Kilgharrah said, as cryptic as ever.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying!”
“I’m sorry, young warlock. This is your battle to fight. Good luck.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to leave me to handle this when I don’t even have a clue what you just said?” Merlin shouted.
“I’ve told you all you need to know.” Kilgharrah shifted his weight to his back legs, clearly marking the end of the conversation. Merlin scowled up at him. “When I see you again, it will be to be to ask for your help. I do hope at that time, this business with the priestesses and Sigan will be dealt with.”
Merlin forgot his frustration for a moment, looking up at Kilgharrah with disbelief.
“Me? You need my help? With what?”
“Since the Fall, our kin has been struggling, Dragonlord. But that is not for you to worry about just yet. Prince Arthur’s safety is of greater importance.”
“I still don’t understand what I have to do.”
“You will,” the dragon simply said, and Merlin glared at him again. “Goodbye, young warlock. I will seek you out when the time comes.” Kilgharrah took off from the ground, and Merlin staggered back a step to keep his footing. The dragon was soon just dark speck in the sky, and Merlin sighed. He now knew why handling the dragons had left his father irritated at times.
It was an hour or so after noon when Merlin returned, and Lancelot was standing just inside the house vestibule, waiting for him.
“What is it?” he asked, noting the discontent on the knight’s face.
“It’s Arthur-well, Sigan. He returned here, pretending to be Arthur. He doesn’t know that we know,” Lancelot said.
“Where is he now?” Merlin asked.
“Upstairs, in the room I gave him the night before. He said he was tired and wanted to be left alone for a while.”
Merlin headed straight for the stairs, but Lancelot stopped him, placing a hand on his arm.
“What did the dragon say? Do you know how to save Arthur?”
Merlin huffed. “The dragon was as cryptic as ever. He basically said I’d figure it out.”
Lancelot frowned and asked, “Then what are we to do?”
Merlin ran a hand through his hair, weighing their options. “I’ll deal with Sigan. In the meantime, could you find some way of proving Arthur had been framed?”
“Yes, I’ve been searching since Gwen came to me and explained everything.”
“All right then. I’ll go up to face Sigan then.” Merlin nodded towards the stairs.
“Should we be there? To help you?”
Merlin shook his head. “I don’t want to endanger you. Kilgharrah said I’d understand what to do, but better not to risk the rest of you too. If I can do it, then I have to do it alone anyways.”
Lancelot looked as if he didn’t like the idea, but nodded and let go of his arm. “His room is the second door to your left. Good luck. We are counting on you.”
“Right. No pressure.” He gave Lancelot a wry smile before beginning up the stairs.
Merlin knocked on the door once but did not wait for a reply, simply stepping inside the room and closing the door again behind him. Inside the room, Sigan lounged in an armchair, a sheet of parchment in his hand. It was unsettling, to say the least, to see Arthur’s face, Arthur’s body, but to know that it was a different person in control of Arthur. The electric blue in his eyes from before had faded, and one couldn’t really tell that Arthur was possessed-except Arthur’s eyes had never looked so cold, so dead.
“Sigan,” Merlin said.
“Hello, Merlin. Who would have believed it? You, the powerful Emrys of all people,” Sigan remarked, getting to his feet.
“Get out of Arthur’s body,” Merlin said, daring to move closer to him.
Sigan ignored him and continued, “And Prince Arthur, the Once and Future King. What a surprise. Funny how fate brought the two of you together.”
“I will not let you do this. I won’t let you stay in Arthur’s body.” The more Sigan spoke using Arthur’s voice, the angrier Merlin felt himself becoming. Power crackled between his fingertips and the familiar rush from using magic coursed through him. Sigan noticed, of course.
“Such power, for one still so young. You do not deserve to be simply an adviser to a lesser man. You could rule the world, Emrys, if you join me.”
“I don’t want that. My place is by Arthur’s side.”
“So you’ll lower yourself to serve a magic-less king. I am disappointed, Emrys.”
“I was meant to be by Arthur’s side, and I want to be by his side. I will always choose a good man over an evil one. Now, you will get out of Arthur, or I will make you get out.”
Then everything just clicked. Take his burden, and the rest will follow,the dragon had said. Knowledge had no play here, only instinct. And instinct told him exactly what to do.
“Then so be-” Sigan was saying but Merlin grabbed hold of his arm.
Merlin closed his eyes and let his magic, the fire in his body and being drawn from all around him, take charge, his consciousness exerting just enough control to guide it where he wanted it. And he saw with his magic the blue haze inside Arthur that was Sigan’s soul. His magic rushed forward wrapping itself around one tendril of the blue smoke. Distantly, he felt Sigan’s-Arthur’s-body stiffen. Assuming that was an indication that he was doing things correctly, he tightened his magic’s hold on the blue haze and pulled, pulled it out of Arthur’s body and into his own. The dragon had meant it quite literally when he’d said to take Arthur’s burden. And really, Merlin would have rolled his eyes in any other circumstances. Instead, he focused on getting the task done, and the rest of the world faded away, his attention honed on dealing with Sigan.
How foolish, Emrys, he heard once he’d pulled all of Sigan inside of himself. Since you will not join me, I will use your body and your magic with my own to rule the world.
My magic answers only to me, Sigan. And I trust in it to protect me, and that means from you.
At his words, his magic, glowing gold just like Arthur’s aura, engulfed the blue haze inside of him. He could feel the two forces push at each other, or rather, Sigan pushing outwards at the walls of magic surround him. His magic nipped away at Sigan’s blue smoke, each time eliciting a flinch from Sigan. But Sigan would always surge forward again, aided by his own magic, and Merlin would have growled in frustration if he was in control of his body.
Merlin, you idiot, hurry up, Merlin heard in the distance. Arthur. A wave of strength, reassurance-something filled him, and his magic flared in response, growing even stronger than he’d ever expected.
Sigan let out a shout, and then, he was gone, shredded to pieces by Merlin’s magic.
When Merlin welcomed reality back into his awareness, it was to a pair of warm, strong hands cradling his head on someone’s lap. He opened his eyes and blinked, finding himself looking into Arthur’s eyes, bright and warm like they should be.
“Arthur,” he said, giving him a small smile.
“Merlin.” Arthur grinned back at him.
Without really thinking about it, Merlin reached up and grabbed the back of Arthur’s neck. He pulled Arthur down and pressed his lips hard against Arthur’s. Arthur made a short strangled sound before kissing back, and Merlin felt his hands shift around his head, a thumb stroking his left cheekbone. Merlin released Arthur and pulled back. Merlin would have laughed at the affronted pout on Arthur’s face if he wasn’t more than a little angry. “You stupid prat!” he hissed, pushing himself up into sitting position. “I can’t believe you thought you could just run off and handle Sigan, Sigan, on your own.”
“I didn’t want to endanger you,” Arthur said petulantly, shifting himself off his knees and into a squat.
“Well obviously, I can take care of myself, considering I was the one to save your ass,” Merlin said, giving him a smirk. Arthur scowled, giving him a cuff on the back of his head before resting his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it, but thank you, Merlin.”
Merlin beamed, a giddiness he hadn’t felt in years filling him. “You’re welcome, sire.”
Arthur gave his shoulder a squeeze before getting to his feet. He then pulled Merlin up as well and didn’t let go of his hand.
“Is Sigan…gone?” Arthur inquired, and Merlin nodded.
“Not sure how, but my magic destroyed his soul.” Merlin shuddered a little at the thought, even though Sigan had deserved it.
Arthur raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “All right, then we better deal with Nimueh and Morgause now.” Despite his words, Arthur’s eyes were on the bed in the room, and Merlin gave him a knowing look. Arthur rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder against Merlin. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the time, Merlin,” Arthur said, as if Merlin was the only one thinking about it. “Let’s go. We need to talk to Lancelot and Gwen.” He tugged Merlin towards the door.
“I asked Lancelot to look for proof that you were framed.”
“I certainly need it. Nimueh and Morgause are at Camelot,” Arthur said with a frown. “Come on, Merlin. Best join them downstairs.”
They discovered that only Gwen was downstairs. Gwen looked relieved to find Arthur back to normal, and said as much. Lancelot and Will, she told them, had left to sneak into the Stafford Castle. The three of them settled in the dining hall to eat the lunch they’d skipped earlier. They ate in comfortable silence, though Merlin nearly choked on his food when Arthur, who was sitting across the table, pressing his foot against Merlin’s calf. While Gwen’s attention was on her food, Arthur gave Merlin a smirk, looking even more like the prat he was. Merlin rolled his eye, but pressed his leg back against Arthur’s foot. And Merlin found that he liked-loved-liked the boyish smile Arthur hid when he ducked his head and pretended to be eating.
Lancelot and Will came back soon after they finished lunch, bursting into the room with a chest between the two of them. Lancelot brightened at the sight of Arthur, setting the chest down by the door before crossing the room to him.
“Arthur, it’s good to have you back,” Lancelot said.
“It’s good to be back,” Arthur replied. They gripped each other’s forearms, shaking hands the way Merlin had seen knights often do. The manly posturing just made Merlin want to roll his eyes. “Did you find anything?”
Lancelot nodded. “We only took some, but in the castle treasury, we found some of the weapons and personal items that belonged to those in Sir Tristan’s travelling party. And…” Lancelot went back to the chest and flipped the top open. He pulled out a sheathed sword and partially unsheathed it, just enough to reveal some elegant script etched just above the sword hilt. He sheathed the sword again and held it out to Arthur with it lying across two hands, his palms up. “Tristan’s sword…”
Arthur stared at the sword with wide eyes before reaching out and touching its sheath almost reverently. Sliding a hand down and then back up the sheath, Arthur gripped the sword tightly. For a moment, he looked as broken as he had in the Western Tower, and Merlin felt an urge to hug Arthur, but didn’t. He didn’t know what boundaries their relationship now had, and he knew Arthur didn’t want comfort at this point, not in front of others where he needed to appear strong. Instead, he reached out and gave Arthur’s shoulder a squeeze. Arthur glanced at him briefly before letting go of the sword, and the broken expression disappeared, replaced with determination.
“We leave for Camelot as soon as we’re ready,” Arthur announced, sounding every inch like the king he was to become. Merlin found himself mesmerized at the sunlight flooding into the room and etching Arthur’s features and hair in gold.
Lancelot seemed to be under the same spell, as he took a step back and bowed his head to him. “Yes, sire,” he said, and Merlin didn’t need his magic to see that Lancelot might very well become the King’s Champion the moment Arthur ascended to the throne.
Arthur gave Lancelot a small smile before leaving the room, gesturing for Merlin to follow him out.
It was an interesting five days as they made the journey from Stafford to Camelot. Gwen looked quite fierce and formidable in riding breeches and a tunic, and Merlin was starting to find that Lancelot might possibly be the noblest person he’d ever meet, with swordsmanship that rivals Arthur’s based on their short sparring sessions before dinnertime. Will oscillated between respectful regard for Gwen and Lancelot and restrained contempt for Arthur. Judging by the number of times he’d caught Gwen and Lancelot staring at each other while the other wasn’t looking, he determined that Arthur was indeed correct in his assumption that the two were hopelessly in love with each other. Every night, Arthur would make Merlin sleep closer to him than one would deem appropriate, not that Merlin was necessarily complaining, and every morning, Merlin would wake up with his arm thrown over Arthur’s waist or Arthur’s arms wrapped around his, and they would scramble apart before the others, particularly Will, would wake up and notice. Merlin looked forward to the day he and Arthur would actually discuss how this thing between them would work out, but it would probably have to wait until Arthur was back under his father’s good graces and the priestesses were dealt with.
The castle of Camelot was beautiful, with its white walls and its graceful towers and turrets. Even from a distance, he could see the scarlet and gold Pendragon flags flying from the battlements, and the colors blazed against the blue sky. While Merlin saw Astolat’s similarities to Camelot, its castle having probably been designed after Camelot, there was really no comparison. Arthur noticed his awe and gave him a proud smile.
“Welcome to Camelot, Merlin,” he said, before spurring his horse a little faster and beckoning Merlin to follow suit with a tilt of his head and raised eyebrows.
Their arrival in Camelot was greeted with a group of four knights and three guards. Leading them was Sir Leon, who couldn’t quite hide his relief and delight at seeing Arthur and probably Lancelot. Leon bowed to Arthur before saying:
“Sire, the king has already heard word of your arrival. He asked for your presence in the throne room.”
Arthur nodded and said, “Lead the way.”
Leon inclined his head before turning back towards the castle. Their horses were led away to the stables, though Arthur and Lancelot took the time to remove the chest they’d lashed up between two of the horses. Taking hold of one of the chest’s handle, Arthur soon fell into step beside Leon, with Lancelot holding up the other end of the chest on his right. Merlin and Gwen followed closely behind, while Will lingered a bit further behind.
“Sire, before you…disappeared,” Leon glanced back at Merlin before continuing, “all of us feared you had gone mad. So I must ask, are you well?”
“Come now, Leon, you know Arthur as well as I do. Does Arthur look unwell to you?” Lancelot interjected. “I assure you that Arthur is sane and well.”
“…yes, I supposed you’re right,” Leon agreed. “Forgive me, sire.”
Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “We have other things to worry about,” he said. “Are the Ladies Morgause and Nimueh still here?”
“They are, sire.”
“In the throne room?”
“No, sire, I believe they are still in their rooms.”
“Have someone keep an eye on them. They are enemies of Camelot and I will deal with them once I’ve spoken to the King,” Arthur ordered.
“Y-yes, sire.” Leon waved one of the knights over and relayed Arthur’s orders as they continued their walk in the castle and down the hall.
They were soon in front of the double doors of the throne room, and the two guards at the doors pushed them open. They entered the room, Arthur, Lancelot, and Leon at the forefront. The courtiers present all fell silent and all eyes were on them as they walked down the long stretch of red carpet to the royal dais. King Uther sat up straighter upon the sight of them as Queen Ygraine broke into a smile, no doubt relieved to see her son again.
“Prince Arthur, your highnesses,” Leon announced, “accompanied by Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. As well as…” Leon hesitated, looking questioningly at Merlin and Will. Arthur whispered something into the knight’s ear, and Leon said, “As well as Freemen Merlin and Will, of Carmarthen.”
A murmur rose from the courtiers at the mention of Carmarthen, and the corners of the king’s lips were pressed tightly together. Merlin wondered why Arthur had felt the need to announce his and Will’s origins to the court; it would only make things difficult in the near future.
They all bowed to the king and queen, even Gwen, who was still dressed in men’s clothes. Will had looked scornful at the idea of bowing, but Merlin had glared at him until Will had huffed and bent at his waist into some semblance of a bow.
“Arthur. You’ve been missing for nearly a month. What do you have to say for yourself?” Uther said once they’d straightened.
“Father, I was forced to flee from Astolat for my own safety and for the safety of the kingdom,” Arthur said, standing tall and proud with feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart and a hand on the pommel of his sword. “I wish to speak with you in private. I hope to shed light on the recent events that have brought us to this impasse.”
Uther studied him for a moment as the rest of the court seemed to hold its breath. He then said, “Did you kill Sir Tristan Du Bois?”
“No, sire,” Arthur promptly answered.
“Can you swear on the king’s sword that you did not commit the murder?” Uther demanded.
“Yes, sire, I can.”
“You refused to even look at the sword the last time. What has changed?”
“I know now who the true murderers were, and Lancelot and I bring with us proof.” Arthur gestured to the chest set down on the ground between him and Lancelot.
Uther looked down at the case and then back up at Arthur. He studied them all in turn, narrowing his eyes at Merlin. There was no question that Uther recognized him, even if Merlin was now properly dressed and the brand on his face hidden with magic.
“Uther, dear,” Ygraine said, breaking the king from his scrutiny of them. She said no more, instead giving him a look that only the king seemed to understand. He sighed and nodded. Together, he and Ygraine rose to their feet.
“Come. I will speak with you in private as you requested,” Uther announced. He took the Queen’s arm, and the two swept out of the hall through their private exit.
Arthur nodded to Leon, who took the knights who’d escorted them and left. Arthur and Lancelot picked up the chest again, and the group of them followed the king and queen out of the room, leaving in their wake a fury of whispers from the court.
Despite his role in assisting Arthur, Merlin’s presence wasn’t allowed as Arthur and Lancelot made their case to the king and queen behind the closed doors of their inner chambers, so he sat in the antechamber with Gwen for company. Will had declared he’d rather not take part in whatever politics they were getting themselves involved in and had slipped out in search of the kitchens.
“So, Merlin,” Gwen said, smoothing the folds of her skirt nonchalantly, “are you still going to deny that you and Arthur don’t have feelings for each other?”
Merlin coughed. “Sorry? I thought we already discussed this.”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Merlin. I’m not blind. I see the way you two look at each other,” Gwen said.
“Don’t you mean the way you and Lancelot look at each other?” Merlin took the chance to tease, and Gwen flushed quite visibly.
“We don’t-I mean-oh, don’t think you can avoid this that easily, Merlin.” Gwen scowled at him. “You and Arthur. You’ve changed Arthur. Ever since he met you, he’s changed, become a better man. You did that, Merlin, and he’s never acted the way he does with you. I won’t know what happened since I saw you last, and perhaps it is because you have your magic back, but I think you’ve changed because of him too. It’s strange, but you complete each other. The two of you together, there’s a sense of greatness to you.”
Merlin blinked at her, and then said, “Are you sure you haven’t been speaking to Kilgharrah?”
Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. “The dragon? Why?”
“Because you’re sounding like him, only less cryptic,” Merlin said with a shrug. “But…” Merlin bit his bottom lip, wavering between telling her the truth or not. “…I care about Arthur…and he cares about me-” Merlin cut off Gwen’s exclamation of delight by saying, “but please don’t say anything about it. It’s really not the time and place, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”
“Of course not,” Gwen said, taking his hands into her. “Merlin, you could very well be the best thing that’s ever happened to Arthur.” Merlin gave her a disbelieving look. “I mean it. Honestly. I won’t do anything that might separate you two. Like I said, you’re destined for great things, the two of you.”
Merlin opened his mouth to remark on that, but before the words could come out, the doors to the inner chambers burst open and the Pendragon family and Lancelot entered the antechamber.
“Ygraine and I will be waiting in the throne room,” Uther was saying. “Find Nimueh and Morgause and all the Northumbrians with them and bring them to us. These villains must be dealt with.”
“Yes, sire,” Arthur and Lancelot both answered. “I’ve already instructed Sir Leon to have an eye on them. It shouldn’t be difficult to find them,” Arthur added.
“Then first get your guests situated into rooms, my boy,” Ygraine said, giving Arthur a warm smile and a pat on his arm. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Ygraine added, “The priestesses aren’t brutes. If there was anything I learned about them that is correct, it’s that they will choose to talk first rather than lash out. Unless they’ve already fled, of course. Don’t worry. You’ll have time.” She gave Arthur’s arm a light squeeze.
Arthur frowned a little, considering her words, before he nodded and said, “Yes, Mother.”
Uther , though, still looked ready to argue, but Ygraine gave him a stern look. “Lady Gwen deserves the best treatment we can give her, as do the people who saved our son’s life,” she said. Uther sighed and nodded.
“Very well, Arthur, get your guests situated but make sure the guards are looking for the Northumbrians,” Uther acquiesced.
“Yes, sire,” Arthur said.
With another nod, Uther left with Ygraine for the throne room, but not before she’d given Gwen and Merlin a smile. Merlin definitely liked the Queen better than the King.
“Lancelot, Gwen, you’re welcome to take the rooms you’ve always been given. I’m sure they’ve already been prepared for use,” Arthur said. Gwen and Merlin got to their feet.
Lancelot cleared his throat before holding out an arm and saying to Gwen, “Allow me to escort you, milady.”
“Of course,” Gwen replied, taking Lancelot’s arm as Merlin and Arthur exchanged looks. Merlin gave Gwen a smirk before she hissed, “Hush, you. You’re one to talk.” She gave him a pointed look before leaving with Lancelot.
“…she knows, doesn’t she?” Arthur asked the moment the two had left.
“Yes, she does,” Merlin said. “It’s not a problem for you, is it?” He searched Arthur’s face for answer but only found what looked like exasperation.
Arthur sighed. “It’s all right. You can’t really hide things from Gwen.”
“If you’re sure…”
“She won’t give us away, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Merlin shook his head. “I know that. I mean, you’re okay with it? We haven’t had time to discuss anything. You know, us-how to act around others, what we expect from each other, those kinds of things. And I’m a sorcerer.”
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You’re right. Until we’ve brought Nimueh and Morgause to justice, however, I don’t believe we really can figure things out. Even from a friendship perspective, my father won’t like that you were once a slave and that you’ve somehow overcome the Rites, though my mother is probably delighted with you right now. Though maybe if we said you’re practically Carmarthian royalty and tell them everything you’ve done for me and Camelot, my father’s opinion might change.”
“You’re going to lie to your father? For me?”
“More like omitting certain things and telling him the things he’d approve of. All I can say is, I’m glad you’re here, Merlin, and I can’t guarantee how things will work, but I swore to you that I’d made things right again, and I will. And when I’m king, Merlin, you’ll have a place by my side-as a court sorcerer, as an advisor, as a consort, whatever it takes.”
Merlin sputtered at his words, because he really hadn’t expected Arthur to surprise him more than he’d had already over the past several months. “Consort?” he repeated, and Arthur looked vaguely panicked.
“Obviously, it’s a bit too soon for that, and I don’t know if it’ll actually happen,” Arthur corrected. “The court certainly wouldn’t approve, and I have a duty to continuing the Pendragon line. I just-” Merlin cut him off by pulling Arthur forward and giving him a firm kiss on the lips.
“For now, let’s just take what we can get, yeah?” Merlin grinned.
“Yes, I supposed we can do that,” Arthur said in his most prattish voice that Merlin knew was for show, and Merlin couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“Since that’s out of the way, why don’t I show you to your chambers?” Arthur said after a pause He gave Merlin a look was probably supposed to be suggestive but came off as slightly ridiculous. Merlin rolled his eyes.
“It’s not like we can do anything. We need to find Nimueh and Morgause.”
“My mother said I should make sure my guests are comfortably situated, and I intend to do just that.”
“You’re a mummy’s boy?” Merlin teased.
Arthur lightly cuffed the back of his head. “Shut up, Merlin.”
As they travelled through the halls of Camelot, Arthur pointed out small features of the castle and recounted tales from his childhood relating to them. Merlin spent a great portion of the time laugh, sometimes with Arthur and sometimes at him, and for those several minutes, they shut out the rest of the world, forgot about the tasks that still remained. Of course, this only lasted until Arthur showed him a set of guest rooms in the eastern wing, where Arthur hinted his own rooms were close to.
“Sire, the Northumbrian delegates have disappeared,” a guard called, running down the hallway to Arthur.
Arthur frowned before saying to Merlin, “I better go help the knights. I’ll send someone for you when we find them.”
“Why can’t I just go with you?”
“There’s no need for both of us to look in the same places. If you can keep yourself from getting lost, you can look on your own. But let me know if you find them.”
Merlin snorted, “You mean before they attack me or I try and stop them?”
“I’m serious, Merlin. I need you to be careful.”
“I will be,” Merlin reassured him. Arthur gave him a stern look before clapping a hand briefly on his shoulder and leaving with the guard.
Instead of cooping himself in the chambers, though he did take time to glance around, Merlin opted to instead wander the halls, searching for the priestesses on his own as Arthur had begrudgingly suggested. Arthur had only left for a few minutes when Merlin encountered trouble.
“Merlin, or should I say Emrys?” he heard a voice behind him say. He didn’t have the time to react before an armored arm was thrown over his shoulders and a small blade was pressed lightly to the side of his throat. He glanced to the side and recognized Morgause right away, though she looked different with her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail.
“Morgause, are you here to kill me for interfering?” Merlin said, glancing back and forth between her face and the knife.
“Actually, I thought we’d have a chat first,” she said. “Come, walk with me.”
Left without a choice, Merlin allowed her to urge him into walking alongside her, the blade hidden in her hand still touching his neck.
Then Merlin blinked, and he could feel magic wrapping itself around him. The world shifted. One moment he was walking down a hall of Camelot and then next he was walking on the Isle of the Blessed, the place Nimueh used to oversee when she was in charge of the Cup of Life. Since her exile, no one he knew of had ever made the journey to the Isle, but he had no difficulty recognizing it. The ruins of a castle surrounded them, ancient runes older than the Old Languages still visible in the walls still standing. The old magic seeped into the ground and heavy in the air made his skin prickle and the magic in his blood sing in response. The buzz of adrenaline that he’d managed to clamp down on after regaining his magic was back again, and he struggled to keep it from distorting his awareness to everything around him.
Morgause let go of him now that he didn’t really have anywhere to go to. Merlin followed Morgause warily, splitting his attention on keeping an eye on her and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. She took him to the center of the ruins, where grass covered any hint of a stone floor and Nimueh stood with bare feet in a long red dress. She smiled at the sight of him, and he was reminded of how much he disliked her smile. Distractedly, he realized he’d seen her smile-and Morgause’s eyes-before, in fragmented, half-remembered dreams; it seemed the dreams had been visions.
“How good to finally meet you properly, Warlock,” Nimueh greeted him. Morgause crossed the expanse of grass to join Nimueh’s side, but Merlin remained where he was, watching the two of them warily.
“Morgause said you wanted to talk,” he said, keeping his hands loose by his side. He didn’t always need his hands to do magic, but using hands helped with his control which was already being tested these days.
“Yes. Do you know of what we wish to achieve?” she asked.
“You want to create a world ruled by magic, and you tried to use Arthur do to so. “
“Yes, and you are destined to become the greatest sorcerer of all time. We should not be enemies, Emrys,” Nimueh said.
“Join us. You are a creature of the Old Religion just like us,” Morgause added.
“I’m nothing like you. You’re mistaken if you think I’ll join forces with you,” Merlin replied. “Thousands of lives will be lost if you try to seize Albion. Your desires are selfish and cruel. The two of you have lost sight of what the Old Religion is about, and I want no part of it.”
Nimueh’s deceptively sweet smile left, her face turning hard and cold. “So be it. Unfortunately, we can’t have you interfere with our plans again.”
With a flick of her wrist, and a few words, a beam of magic, red hot and crackling, cut the air and straight at him. Fortunately, it was a spell he recognized well, having used it often during the war, and he shouted out a cancelling spell, stopping before it reached him. But Morgause took advantage of his attention on Nimueh to send a different spell at him. Merlin cursed under his breath-he hadn’t dueled another sorcerer in years, let alone two of them like the priestesses-and he threw up a shield to deflect the burst of power, but abruptly, the attack was dispelled before it’d even touched his shield.
Emrys, a voice echoed in his head. He glanced to his right and spotted Mordred, appearing from the ruins and lashing out at Morgause with a whip of magic.
“Mordred, I am disappointed in you,” Morgause said, slicing the whip to pieces with a swipe of her hand. Mordred gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Mordred, why are you here? Merlin asked, unable to hide his surprise. He ducked just in time to avoid the ball of crackling energy Nimueh threw his way.
I had a change of heart, Mordred replied lightly, shielding himself from an attack from Morgause.
Really? Merlin said, his mental voice heavy with disbelief.
No. But wouldn’t you like help? You should be more careful, Mordred remarked.
“Holding private conversations, boys? Don’t you underestimate us,” Nimueh hissed, throwing a slew of spells at Merlin. He deflected a few of them while finding a few that he could simply absorb into his outstretched hand to reuse.
He and Mordred cut off communications, throwing themselves fully into battle against the two priestesses. Merlin tried not to think of how much it reminded of his childhood, of fighting alongside Mordred in paired duels or against rampant magical creatures. He hoped, for now at least, that he could trust Mordred.
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Mordred blast a wave of magic at Morgause that flung her against one of the columns still standing among the ruins. Another blast hit her, and she stopped moving. Merlin felt old magic around him shift and grow. Morgause was dead.
Merlin turned his attention back to Nimueh, just in time to deflect a shower of ice daggers. He retaliated with a collection of jagged stones wrapped in magic, but Nimueh lit them on fire with a chant and repelled them back at him. With a rushed whisper under his breath, they turn into ash before they can hit him.
But they were merely a distraction and Merlin was too slow to react to the fireball Nimueh hurled at him. It hit him in the chest and sent him flying onto his back. He gasped at the pain blooming on his chest. He was stunned by it, mind bleary and unable to move as Nimueh stepped a little closer.
“This is the end, Emrys. Such a pity. I expected more.” With a wave of her hand, blades of pure magic flew at him. Unable to move, he could only watch their path through the air to him.
Suddenly, Mordred was in front of him, standing halfway between Ninmueh and Merlin with a hastily thrown up shield. The shield didn’t hold. Merlin watched in shock as the blades sink into Mordred’s chest. Mordred stumbled back a step with a wet cough-blood in his lungs-before crumpling to the sodden grass.
Nimueh shrieked her anger, but the time Mordred had given Merlin was enough. Enough for him to finally move, and to take advantage of her distraction. The power that was always there, deep inside him, the power that required no commanding words, no incantations, just instinct, roared up and out of his body with the simple raise of his hand. Lightning shot from his fingers and engulfed Nimueh before she could lift even a finger. With another shriek, this time of pain, Nimueh was ripped to shreds. Merlin stumbled back a step at the drain in his powers, watching the priestess’s ashes disintegrate.
“Mordred,” Merlin called the moment all traces of Nimueh disappeared into the air. He rushed to the man’s side.
I never did forget, Emrys, his once-friend said into his head, sounding as raspy as if he were actually speaking. A little late, but I promised I’d be there for you if you needed me, didn’t I?
Why? Merlin wasn’t sure if he was asking why Mordred had betrayed him or why he’d protected him, but maybe it was both.
I’ve always envied you. You had everything I wanted-friends, family, Morgana, respect, real power-and sometimes…I hated you, and I hated myself because you were my friend. That day…I wanted you to suffer, but I never wanted to see you dead. I knew you’d survive.
Merlin sighed. I don’t understand you, Mordred.
You were my closest friend. You understood me better than most. Mordred’s eyes fluttered shut. Take care of yourself, Emrys.
I will, Merlin said, but Mordred was gone. Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
On to Part Eleven | Masterpost
“Will? Where’s Arthur?” Merlin asked, scrambling to his feet and looking around for any trace of the prince.
“He went on ahead, to Stafford. Said to let you rest,” Will answered a little too unconcerned for Merlin’s liking.
“You let him run off to Stafford on his own?!” Merlin shouted. “Without even a sword?”
“He wanted to get there as soon as possible, and didn’t want us getting involved,” Will said, as if Merlin didn’t look close to murdering him, or at least giving him a good kick in the ass. “Much as I hate to say it, but he was right, Merlin. It’s not your battle to fight. You owe nothing to Camelot.”
“Not my battle to fight?” Merlin repeated. “Of course it’s my battle to fight. Arthur is the Once and Future King. He’s my King. If I’m not to help him, then what are my powers for?”
“To get Carmarthen back on its feet, not help the bloody prince of Camelot,” Will scowled.
“There will be no Carmarthen, no Albion, if Arthur gets himself caught or killed!” Merlin snapped. With a wave of his hand, the bedroll rolled itself up and joined the rest of the packs dumped by Will’s feet. From there, they bundled up and loaded onto the two horses nearby. “I’m going to Stafford. Whether you come with me or not is your choice.” Merlin breezed past Will and mounted the horse he’d been riding for the past several days.
With a huff, Will climbed onto his own horse and said, “Like I’m leaving you alone in this stupid kingdom.”
Merlin gave him a smile before kicking his horse into motion. They had to travel fast; Arthur had at least a few hours of travel ahead of them, and Merlin did not want Arthur confronting the priestesses or Sigan alone by any chance. He also tried not to wonder if Arthur had purposefully timed last night’s confession to give Merlin the slip.
Riding fast, Stafford was only two days’ ride from Cameliard. It was morning, just an hour after dawn that they reached the city. Merlin cast a quick spell to hide the scar on his face before he and Will entered the city. Merlin knew from his nightly conversations with Arthur back in the Carmarthian refuge that the city’s castle had been claimed by the Northumbrians and was being renovated to suit their needs. As such, Lancelot lived, not in the castle, but in a large manor house just outside.
There were only a few guards stationed outside of the house, which Merlin was grateful for, and they didn’t stop Merlin and Will from knocking on the door. A servant answered the door, and Merlin briefly wondered if Arthur’s cousin was the type to own slaves. If he and Gwen were indeed in love with each other as Arthur claimed, then given Gwen’s disapproval of slavery, Lancelot might not, and that definitely gave Merlin respect for the man.
“How may I help you?” the servant asked.
“We need to speak to Sir Lancelot. It’s a matter of great importance,” Merlin said, trying to adapt a voice that broached no argument or questions-a voice he’d picked up from Arthur, truthfully.
The servant looked at him and then Will before bowing his head. “Right this way please.”
They followed the servant into the house, down a hallway to a pair of closed doors. The servant gestured for them to wait before slipping inside. Moments later, one of the doors swung open and they were greeted with a view of a library, the walls lined with shelves stuffed to the brim with books.
“Come in. Sir Lancelot will see you,” the servant said, waving them in.
Merlin, with Will in tow, stepped inside and saw even more of the room, including a table where two people sat quietly conversing. One of them was Gwen, who looked up at his entrance.
“Merlin!” She was crossing the room before he could answer, and to his surprise, she pulled him into a hug.
“It’s great to see you, Gwen,” he said, daring to give her a hug back. And he remembered. He wasn’t a slave anymore; he was free, despite the scar he’d hidden from his face. Gwen pulled away and looked him up and down.
“You look well,” she remarked with a smile before looking over at Will.
“Gwen, this is Will, my brother-in-law. Will, this is Lady Guinevere,” Merlin introduced. “She’s…Arthur’s fiancé.”
Grimness settled in for the first time since that night outside of Cameliard. Gwen was Arthur’s fiancé, even if he had to feelings for him. Whatever Merlin and Arthur shared, the…fondness they had for each other, Arthur had responsibilities to his kingdom and Albion. Merlin was but an ex-slave, and a man, and a sorcerer. But the disappointment and hopelessness that settled inside weren’t unfamiliar; he had spent thirteen years enslaved after all. He would get through this, he reassured himself, even if whatever he and Arthur were beginning to share couldn’t survive.
And then all his thoughts grinded to a halt when Gwen said, “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’m not anymore.”
“You’re not?” he asked. Gwen shook her head, smiling knowingly. If he hadn’t been in shock at the moment, he would have groaned, recalling the conversation they’d had before he and Arthur fled Astolat.
“My father broke off the engagement after what had happened, you know, in Astolat,” she explained.
“Oh…”
“Yes. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? Not that I hated the idea of marrying Arthur,” Gwen quickly corrected herself. “Not that Arthur will make an awful husband. It’s just-I mean, I told you before. He’s like family to me; I don’t love him like that. But he isn’t bad-at least he’s-” She caught herself from continued and flushed a little.
Merlin laughed and said, “It’s all right. I understood what you meant. I’m glad for you.” And for Arthur, though the thought of that was a little too selfish and very much too hopeful.
“Yes, well…” Gwen looked over at Will and gave him a warm smile. “Anyways, hello, Will. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello.” Will gave her a stiff little bow that would have made Merlin laugh in other circumstances.
“You must be Merlin.” Merlin looked over to the man who’d come over to stand behind Gwen’s shoulder. He assumed that this was Lancelot. Arthur’s cousin was good looking, but with nearly the complete opposite complexion-olive skin, dark eyes and dark brown hair. He dressed as any knight in leisure did-loose tunic, trousers tucked into boots and a sword hanging from his belt. “I’m Lancelot.” He held out a hand to Merlin to shake. “I’ve heard great things about you,” Lancelot remarked as Merlin shook his hand. His grip was strong, but not threateningly so, just firm and confident. His smile was warm and genuine, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” he replied. Lancelot gave him a nod before turning to Will.
“Hello, good to meet you, Will.” He offered Will his hand as well, and to Merlin’s relief, Will stepped forward and shook his hand. It seemed Will’s issue with Camelot nobles lied with mainly Arthur; Merlin wasn’t really surprised. “I’m guessing you’re looking for Arthur?”
“Yes. Is-was he here?” Merlin asked, leaning forward and failing to hide his slight desperation.
“He arrived yesterday night. Gwen and I were hard-pressed to convince him to rest before going off to accuse the Northumbrians,” Lancelot said. “I haven’t seen him today. He could still be sleeping; he came in quite late yesterday night. Let me sent someone up.” Lancelot stuck his head out the door and told a servant in the hallway to go upstairs to check on Arthur.
During the wait, Gwen gently took hold of Merlin’s wrists. “He freed you,” she said, looking at his bare neck.
Merlin nodded. “He asked me to take them off.” When Gwen gave him a perplexed look, he grinned and said, “I got my magic back.”
“Merlin, that’s wonderful,” Gwen said. “Is that why…?” She gestured to his left cheek.
“I can’t remove it,” Merlin said. “I’m just hiding it. It’s pretty recognizable after all…” Gwen’s smile faltered, worry wrinkling her brow. “I’m all right, really. I mean. I’m free, and I have my magic back!” And he had Arthur¬-maybe, hopefully, at least for a while. At the very least, Arthur would be willing to acknowledge him as Emrys, advisor to the Once and Future King. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Then, the servant hurried into the room and announced, “The prince has left the house.”
He was answered with a chorus of “What?!” Merlin was at the door in seconds, ready to run out after Arthur at any moment. But he paused when Lancelot asked, “Did anyone see which way he went? The guards?”
The servant nodded. “He was heading towards the Temple of the Old Religion, sir, the one the Northumbrians just finished building.”
Merlin cursed under his breath. “That clotpole, he’s gone to confront the priestesses-and Sigan-all by himself,” he hissed. “Lancelot, please show me where the temple is. We’ve got to save Arthur.”
Lancelot nodded, and they soon were out the door and out of the manor house, Gwen and Will following closely behind them.
The temple was located by the western side of the wall surrounding the castle. It hadn’t been difficult to spot, its architecture so different from all the buildings around it. While the building itself was rectangular in dimensions, its façade was lined with columns reaching to the very top of the building, and a set of sweeping stairs went from the street up to the large set of double doors serving as the entrance.
Merlin had only seen one temple dedicated to the Old Religion before, and it had been old and slightly crumbling with the priestesses exiled. He didn’t take the time to appreciate the grandeur of this newly built temple, instead rushing up the stairs to the doors. The others were close at his heels.
“You’re Nimueh’s servant. I should have figured you were a sorcerer as well,” they heard Arthur’s voice echo through the temple the moment they entered.
“I’m not just any old sorcerer, Prince Arthur, and I’m not Nimueh’s servant.” Merlin recognized that voice, but it was no longer sycophantic; it was harsh and unwavering and unsettled him even more than it had before. It was Cedric’s voice. And everything became clearer, in particular that one conversation he’d overheard from the priestesses and Cedric, who probably wasn’t even Cedric at all. Merlin picked up his pace, running through the winding hallway. He wondered vaguely how voices could project through the building from so far away, but it probably had something to do with the interior architecture, which Merlin had no time to worry about now. All he cared about was reaching Arthur before it was too late.
“Who are you then? And what exactly do you want with me?” Arthur was saying.
“Do you really think a sword will do you any good? I am the one of most powerful sorcerers in history, Cornelius Sigan.” Merlin stopped breathing for a second, and then cursed at Arthur. The prince didn’t stand a chance against Sigan, and Merlin had no clue if he did either. “As for what I want with you, you’ll find out shortly.”
“What are you-?!” Merlin’s heart clenched when Arthur was cut off, and he could see Lancelot’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye.
They reached the heart of the temple a few seconds later, just in time to see Arthur slump onto the ground and a strange blue smoke surround him, travelling into his body through his parted lips.
Possession, Merlin realized Sigan and the priestesses’ goal much too late. The transferring of Sigan’s soul into Arthur’s body. With Sigan in possession of Arthur, he could easily gain hold of Camelot. Then, with Arthur’s birthright, the strength of Camelot’s army, and Sigan’s magic alone, the rest of Albion would easily fall to them like dominoes. And Arthur, Arthur’s soul would be trapped within his own body, unable to do anything but watch as Sigan took over his life and Albion.
“No! This can’t happen!” Merlin shouted, rushing forward.
A string of no no no no no streamed through his mind, alarm growing as the last of the blue smoke disappeared into Arthur. He stumbled as the ground shook, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of his slipping control over his magic due to his panic or if it was before Arthur had just risen from the floor, eyes glowing an unnatural electric blue. Sigan-Arthur-Sigan laughed, and the sound made Merlin’s skin crawl, because such a twisted laugh was something he’d never expected to hear with Arthur’s voice.
Sigan hadn’t spotted him yet, flexing Arthur’s arms and hands as if learning how to move his body, and Merlin surged forward, ready to launch himself at the distracted sorcerer even if he had no clue how to get him out of Arthur’s body. Vaguely, he knew he wasn’t thinking straight, hadn’t been since he heard Sigan reveal himself, but he just wanted Sigan out of Arthur. Suddenly, arms wrapped themselves around his own, and he let out an indignant grunt, struggling against their hold on him. It was Lancelot and Will, pulling him away from the large room, pulling him away from Sigan and Arthur’s body.
“Let me go!” he hissed, struggling even harder. He thought fleetingly of using his magic, but it was slipping out of his control just like his panic was, and even in his state of mind he knew he couldn’t risk hurting them. They dragged him back into the hallway and kept going, Gwen looking on with a pale, drawn expression. “I have to save him! I can’t let Sigan do this!”
“Cool it, Merlin. I didn’t grow up with sorcerers, with you, for nothing,” Will growled, jostling him a little. “You can’t just jump into a fight with Sigan without preparing. That’d be ridiculous, even for you.”
“But he has Arthur!” Merlin protested, although he’d sagged a bit, allowing the two men to drag him along. He turned his head and gave Lancelot a withering look. “He’s your cousin, your friend. How can you possibly leave him behind like this?!”
“I don’t exactly have much choice, do I?” Lancelot replied, jaw clenched and eyes stormy. “If he is as powerful as he claims, we cannot run headlong into a battle. We need to think and plan ahead. And I have a feeling you don’t know quite how to deal with that sorcerer yet.” Lancelot gave him a raised eyebrow, and Merlin scowled at him. He gave in though, if only because he needed to be calm and rational in this situation, and only he was reacting so badly to what had happened. To defeat Sigan, he knew that he would need help.
Back at Lancelot’s manor house, they sequestered themselves in the library room from before. Merlin looked at the others seated at the table around him. Lancelot looked brooding and just a little dangerous, a wrinkle in his brow and a downward turn on the corners of his lips. Gwen, looking worried but not cowed, had her hands clenched in the folds of her skirts, and like Lancelot, she stared at the tabletop, biting her bottom lip and furrowing her brow. Will simply looked as sour as ever, giving Merlin a glance that asked what Merlin intended to do next. Merlin sighed, and the others took that as a signal to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, though he thinks really should be saying it to Arthur. “I should have figured it out sooner. And I should have known Arthur would be stupidly noble enough to go off and fight them on his own.”
“What exactly happened back there?” Gwen asked. “Because I know what I thought I saw, and I…just want to be sure.”
“Sigan transferred his soul from Cedric’s body into Arthur’s. He’s controlling Arthur right now,” Merlin explained with a grimace.
“…and Arthur?” Lancelot asked.
“He’s still in there. He can see everything Sigan does, but can’t stop him,” Merlin explained. Although, with a lesser sorcerer, Merlin wouldn’t have been surprised if Arthur managed to break free of possession through willpower alone. Unfortunately, they were dealing with Sigan.
“That’s horrible,” Gwen said. Lancelot grimaced, and even Will wrinkled his nose.
“Gwen told me you were a sorcerer,” Lancelot said, “and Arthur mentioned it too, yesterday night, but are you powerful enough for this Sigan?”
Will snorted. “Merlin’s very existence is part of Carmarthian legend. He’s powerful all right.”
“Will,” Merlin hissed when Lancelot and Gwen looked at him with wide eyes. Merlin sighed and crossed his arms. “Power’s nothing if I don’t know how to use it, and I don’t know how to get Sigan out of Arthur’s body.”
“Then what are we to do? The priestesses and Sigan are planning to take over Albion using Arthur, aren’t they?” Lancelot said.
“I’m going to have to ask for advice,” Merlin said.
“From the dragon?” Will asked, once again startling the others into staring at Merlin.
“Dragon?” Lancelot and Gwen repeated.
“Yes. I’m a Dragonlord-the last one too, apparently,” Merlin said with a frown. “I’ll call the Great Dragon and ask him what I need to do to get Sigan out.” And hope Kilgharrah gave him a straight answer, Merlin thought to himself.
After he’d promised them that he wouldn’t confront Sigan before telling them what the dragon told him, Merlin rushed out of the city on horseback. He headed for the mountains that nearly shadowed Stafford, using a bit of magic to spur his horse a little faster. He stopped in a grassy flat stretch of land on the very edge of the mountain and dismounted, tying his horse to a tree before walking further out towards the center of the valley.
“Kilgharrah!” Merlin shouted into the heavens, following with the roaring words that beckoned the Great Dragon to him.
He’d suppressed the nearly consuming panic from before down to a low, manageable level of anxiety during his talk with the others. Still, it coursed through his veins and kept him for sitting down to wait for the dragon’s arrival. Instead he paced back and forth, wearing a small indent into the ground.
Kilgharrah arrived ten minutes later, his large wings sending gusts of wind that nearly knocked Merlin to the ground.
“Merlin, I see you have control of your magic again,” the dragon remarked upon settling on the ground.
“Yes, I do,” Merlin said, giving him a quick smile, though he knew it was strained.
“And what do you require from me, young warlock?”
“It’s Arthur. Cornelius Sigan is working with the priestesses. He’s possessed Arthur.”
“Hmm. That is quite unfortunate.”
“Please, I have to know how to get Sigan out. You know I can’t lose Arthur.”
“You and Arthur are two sides of a coin, bound together by destiny and the magic of the land. You were born to bear each other’s burdens. Take his burden, and the rest will follow,” Kilgharrah said, as cryptic as ever.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying!”
“I’m sorry, young warlock. This is your battle to fight. Good luck.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to leave me to handle this when I don’t even have a clue what you just said?” Merlin shouted.
“I’ve told you all you need to know.” Kilgharrah shifted his weight to his back legs, clearly marking the end of the conversation. Merlin scowled up at him. “When I see you again, it will be to be to ask for your help. I do hope at that time, this business with the priestesses and Sigan will be dealt with.”
Merlin forgot his frustration for a moment, looking up at Kilgharrah with disbelief.
“Me? You need my help? With what?”
“Since the Fall, our kin has been struggling, Dragonlord. But that is not for you to worry about just yet. Prince Arthur’s safety is of greater importance.”
“I still don’t understand what I have to do.”
“You will,” the dragon simply said, and Merlin glared at him again. “Goodbye, young warlock. I will seek you out when the time comes.” Kilgharrah took off from the ground, and Merlin staggered back a step to keep his footing. The dragon was soon just dark speck in the sky, and Merlin sighed. He now knew why handling the dragons had left his father irritated at times.
It was an hour or so after noon when Merlin returned, and Lancelot was standing just inside the house vestibule, waiting for him.
“What is it?” he asked, noting the discontent on the knight’s face.
“It’s Arthur-well, Sigan. He returned here, pretending to be Arthur. He doesn’t know that we know,” Lancelot said.
“Where is he now?” Merlin asked.
“Upstairs, in the room I gave him the night before. He said he was tired and wanted to be left alone for a while.”
Merlin headed straight for the stairs, but Lancelot stopped him, placing a hand on his arm.
“What did the dragon say? Do you know how to save Arthur?”
Merlin huffed. “The dragon was as cryptic as ever. He basically said I’d figure it out.”
Lancelot frowned and asked, “Then what are we to do?”
Merlin ran a hand through his hair, weighing their options. “I’ll deal with Sigan. In the meantime, could you find some way of proving Arthur had been framed?”
“Yes, I’ve been searching since Gwen came to me and explained everything.”
“All right then. I’ll go up to face Sigan then.” Merlin nodded towards the stairs.
“Should we be there? To help you?”
Merlin shook his head. “I don’t want to endanger you. Kilgharrah said I’d understand what to do, but better not to risk the rest of you too. If I can do it, then I have to do it alone anyways.”
Lancelot looked as if he didn’t like the idea, but nodded and let go of his arm. “His room is the second door to your left. Good luck. We are counting on you.”
“Right. No pressure.” He gave Lancelot a wry smile before beginning up the stairs.
Merlin knocked on the door once but did not wait for a reply, simply stepping inside the room and closing the door again behind him. Inside the room, Sigan lounged in an armchair, a sheet of parchment in his hand. It was unsettling, to say the least, to see Arthur’s face, Arthur’s body, but to know that it was a different person in control of Arthur. The electric blue in his eyes from before had faded, and one couldn’t really tell that Arthur was possessed-except Arthur’s eyes had never looked so cold, so dead.
“Sigan,” Merlin said.
“Hello, Merlin. Who would have believed it? You, the powerful Emrys of all people,” Sigan remarked, getting to his feet.
“Get out of Arthur’s body,” Merlin said, daring to move closer to him.
Sigan ignored him and continued, “And Prince Arthur, the Once and Future King. What a surprise. Funny how fate brought the two of you together.”
“I will not let you do this. I won’t let you stay in Arthur’s body.” The more Sigan spoke using Arthur’s voice, the angrier Merlin felt himself becoming. Power crackled between his fingertips and the familiar rush from using magic coursed through him. Sigan noticed, of course.
“Such power, for one still so young. You do not deserve to be simply an adviser to a lesser man. You could rule the world, Emrys, if you join me.”
“I don’t want that. My place is by Arthur’s side.”
“So you’ll lower yourself to serve a magic-less king. I am disappointed, Emrys.”
“I was meant to be by Arthur’s side, and I want to be by his side. I will always choose a good man over an evil one. Now, you will get out of Arthur, or I will make you get out.”
Then everything just clicked. Take his burden, and the rest will follow,the dragon had said. Knowledge had no play here, only instinct. And instinct told him exactly what to do.
“Then so be-” Sigan was saying but Merlin grabbed hold of his arm.
Merlin closed his eyes and let his magic, the fire in his body and being drawn from all around him, take charge, his consciousness exerting just enough control to guide it where he wanted it. And he saw with his magic the blue haze inside Arthur that was Sigan’s soul. His magic rushed forward wrapping itself around one tendril of the blue smoke. Distantly, he felt Sigan’s-Arthur’s-body stiffen. Assuming that was an indication that he was doing things correctly, he tightened his magic’s hold on the blue haze and pulled, pulled it out of Arthur’s body and into his own. The dragon had meant it quite literally when he’d said to take Arthur’s burden. And really, Merlin would have rolled his eyes in any other circumstances. Instead, he focused on getting the task done, and the rest of the world faded away, his attention honed on dealing with Sigan.
How foolish, Emrys, he heard once he’d pulled all of Sigan inside of himself. Since you will not join me, I will use your body and your magic with my own to rule the world.
My magic answers only to me, Sigan. And I trust in it to protect me, and that means from you.
At his words, his magic, glowing gold just like Arthur’s aura, engulfed the blue haze inside of him. He could feel the two forces push at each other, or rather, Sigan pushing outwards at the walls of magic surround him. His magic nipped away at Sigan’s blue smoke, each time eliciting a flinch from Sigan. But Sigan would always surge forward again, aided by his own magic, and Merlin would have growled in frustration if he was in control of his body.
Merlin, you idiot, hurry up, Merlin heard in the distance. Arthur. A wave of strength, reassurance-something filled him, and his magic flared in response, growing even stronger than he’d ever expected.
Sigan let out a shout, and then, he was gone, shredded to pieces by Merlin’s magic.
When Merlin welcomed reality back into his awareness, it was to a pair of warm, strong hands cradling his head on someone’s lap. He opened his eyes and blinked, finding himself looking into Arthur’s eyes, bright and warm like they should be.
“Arthur,” he said, giving him a small smile.
“Merlin.” Arthur grinned back at him.
Without really thinking about it, Merlin reached up and grabbed the back of Arthur’s neck. He pulled Arthur down and pressed his lips hard against Arthur’s. Arthur made a short strangled sound before kissing back, and Merlin felt his hands shift around his head, a thumb stroking his left cheekbone. Merlin released Arthur and pulled back. Merlin would have laughed at the affronted pout on Arthur’s face if he wasn’t more than a little angry. “You stupid prat!” he hissed, pushing himself up into sitting position. “I can’t believe you thought you could just run off and handle Sigan, Sigan, on your own.”
“I didn’t want to endanger you,” Arthur said petulantly, shifting himself off his knees and into a squat.
“Well obviously, I can take care of myself, considering I was the one to save your ass,” Merlin said, giving him a smirk. Arthur scowled, giving him a cuff on the back of his head before resting his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it, but thank you, Merlin.”
Merlin beamed, a giddiness he hadn’t felt in years filling him. “You’re welcome, sire.”
Arthur gave his shoulder a squeeze before getting to his feet. He then pulled Merlin up as well and didn’t let go of his hand.
“Is Sigan…gone?” Arthur inquired, and Merlin nodded.
“Not sure how, but my magic destroyed his soul.” Merlin shuddered a little at the thought, even though Sigan had deserved it.
Arthur raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “All right, then we better deal with Nimueh and Morgause now.” Despite his words, Arthur’s eyes were on the bed in the room, and Merlin gave him a knowing look. Arthur rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder against Merlin. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the time, Merlin,” Arthur said, as if Merlin was the only one thinking about it. “Let’s go. We need to talk to Lancelot and Gwen.” He tugged Merlin towards the door.
“I asked Lancelot to look for proof that you were framed.”
“I certainly need it. Nimueh and Morgause are at Camelot,” Arthur said with a frown. “Come on, Merlin. Best join them downstairs.”
They discovered that only Gwen was downstairs. Gwen looked relieved to find Arthur back to normal, and said as much. Lancelot and Will, she told them, had left to sneak into the Stafford Castle. The three of them settled in the dining hall to eat the lunch they’d skipped earlier. They ate in comfortable silence, though Merlin nearly choked on his food when Arthur, who was sitting across the table, pressing his foot against Merlin’s calf. While Gwen’s attention was on her food, Arthur gave Merlin a smirk, looking even more like the prat he was. Merlin rolled his eye, but pressed his leg back against Arthur’s foot. And Merlin found that he liked-loved-liked the boyish smile Arthur hid when he ducked his head and pretended to be eating.
Lancelot and Will came back soon after they finished lunch, bursting into the room with a chest between the two of them. Lancelot brightened at the sight of Arthur, setting the chest down by the door before crossing the room to him.
“Arthur, it’s good to have you back,” Lancelot said.
“It’s good to be back,” Arthur replied. They gripped each other’s forearms, shaking hands the way Merlin had seen knights often do. The manly posturing just made Merlin want to roll his eyes. “Did you find anything?”
Lancelot nodded. “We only took some, but in the castle treasury, we found some of the weapons and personal items that belonged to those in Sir Tristan’s travelling party. And…” Lancelot went back to the chest and flipped the top open. He pulled out a sheathed sword and partially unsheathed it, just enough to reveal some elegant script etched just above the sword hilt. He sheathed the sword again and held it out to Arthur with it lying across two hands, his palms up. “Tristan’s sword…”
Arthur stared at the sword with wide eyes before reaching out and touching its sheath almost reverently. Sliding a hand down and then back up the sheath, Arthur gripped the sword tightly. For a moment, he looked as broken as he had in the Western Tower, and Merlin felt an urge to hug Arthur, but didn’t. He didn’t know what boundaries their relationship now had, and he knew Arthur didn’t want comfort at this point, not in front of others where he needed to appear strong. Instead, he reached out and gave Arthur’s shoulder a squeeze. Arthur glanced at him briefly before letting go of the sword, and the broken expression disappeared, replaced with determination.
“We leave for Camelot as soon as we’re ready,” Arthur announced, sounding every inch like the king he was to become. Merlin found himself mesmerized at the sunlight flooding into the room and etching Arthur’s features and hair in gold.
Lancelot seemed to be under the same spell, as he took a step back and bowed his head to him. “Yes, sire,” he said, and Merlin didn’t need his magic to see that Lancelot might very well become the King’s Champion the moment Arthur ascended to the throne.
Arthur gave Lancelot a small smile before leaving the room, gesturing for Merlin to follow him out.
It was an interesting five days as they made the journey from Stafford to Camelot. Gwen looked quite fierce and formidable in riding breeches and a tunic, and Merlin was starting to find that Lancelot might possibly be the noblest person he’d ever meet, with swordsmanship that rivals Arthur’s based on their short sparring sessions before dinnertime. Will oscillated between respectful regard for Gwen and Lancelot and restrained contempt for Arthur. Judging by the number of times he’d caught Gwen and Lancelot staring at each other while the other wasn’t looking, he determined that Arthur was indeed correct in his assumption that the two were hopelessly in love with each other. Every night, Arthur would make Merlin sleep closer to him than one would deem appropriate, not that Merlin was necessarily complaining, and every morning, Merlin would wake up with his arm thrown over Arthur’s waist or Arthur’s arms wrapped around his, and they would scramble apart before the others, particularly Will, would wake up and notice. Merlin looked forward to the day he and Arthur would actually discuss how this thing between them would work out, but it would probably have to wait until Arthur was back under his father’s good graces and the priestesses were dealt with.
The castle of Camelot was beautiful, with its white walls and its graceful towers and turrets. Even from a distance, he could see the scarlet and gold Pendragon flags flying from the battlements, and the colors blazed against the blue sky. While Merlin saw Astolat’s similarities to Camelot, its castle having probably been designed after Camelot, there was really no comparison. Arthur noticed his awe and gave him a proud smile.
“Welcome to Camelot, Merlin,” he said, before spurring his horse a little faster and beckoning Merlin to follow suit with a tilt of his head and raised eyebrows.
Their arrival in Camelot was greeted with a group of four knights and three guards. Leading them was Sir Leon, who couldn’t quite hide his relief and delight at seeing Arthur and probably Lancelot. Leon bowed to Arthur before saying:
“Sire, the king has already heard word of your arrival. He asked for your presence in the throne room.”
Arthur nodded and said, “Lead the way.”
Leon inclined his head before turning back towards the castle. Their horses were led away to the stables, though Arthur and Lancelot took the time to remove the chest they’d lashed up between two of the horses. Taking hold of one of the chest’s handle, Arthur soon fell into step beside Leon, with Lancelot holding up the other end of the chest on his right. Merlin and Gwen followed closely behind, while Will lingered a bit further behind.
“Sire, before you…disappeared,” Leon glanced back at Merlin before continuing, “all of us feared you had gone mad. So I must ask, are you well?”
“Come now, Leon, you know Arthur as well as I do. Does Arthur look unwell to you?” Lancelot interjected. “I assure you that Arthur is sane and well.”
“…yes, I supposed you’re right,” Leon agreed. “Forgive me, sire.”
Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “We have other things to worry about,” he said. “Are the Ladies Morgause and Nimueh still here?”
“They are, sire.”
“In the throne room?”
“No, sire, I believe they are still in their rooms.”
“Have someone keep an eye on them. They are enemies of Camelot and I will deal with them once I’ve spoken to the King,” Arthur ordered.
“Y-yes, sire.” Leon waved one of the knights over and relayed Arthur’s orders as they continued their walk in the castle and down the hall.
They were soon in front of the double doors of the throne room, and the two guards at the doors pushed them open. They entered the room, Arthur, Lancelot, and Leon at the forefront. The courtiers present all fell silent and all eyes were on them as they walked down the long stretch of red carpet to the royal dais. King Uther sat up straighter upon the sight of them as Queen Ygraine broke into a smile, no doubt relieved to see her son again.
“Prince Arthur, your highnesses,” Leon announced, “accompanied by Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. As well as…” Leon hesitated, looking questioningly at Merlin and Will. Arthur whispered something into the knight’s ear, and Leon said, “As well as Freemen Merlin and Will, of Carmarthen.”
A murmur rose from the courtiers at the mention of Carmarthen, and the corners of the king’s lips were pressed tightly together. Merlin wondered why Arthur had felt the need to announce his and Will’s origins to the court; it would only make things difficult in the near future.
They all bowed to the king and queen, even Gwen, who was still dressed in men’s clothes. Will had looked scornful at the idea of bowing, but Merlin had glared at him until Will had huffed and bent at his waist into some semblance of a bow.
“Arthur. You’ve been missing for nearly a month. What do you have to say for yourself?” Uther said once they’d straightened.
“Father, I was forced to flee from Astolat for my own safety and for the safety of the kingdom,” Arthur said, standing tall and proud with feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart and a hand on the pommel of his sword. “I wish to speak with you in private. I hope to shed light on the recent events that have brought us to this impasse.”
Uther studied him for a moment as the rest of the court seemed to hold its breath. He then said, “Did you kill Sir Tristan Du Bois?”
“No, sire,” Arthur promptly answered.
“Can you swear on the king’s sword that you did not commit the murder?” Uther demanded.
“Yes, sire, I can.”
“You refused to even look at the sword the last time. What has changed?”
“I know now who the true murderers were, and Lancelot and I bring with us proof.” Arthur gestured to the chest set down on the ground between him and Lancelot.
Uther looked down at the case and then back up at Arthur. He studied them all in turn, narrowing his eyes at Merlin. There was no question that Uther recognized him, even if Merlin was now properly dressed and the brand on his face hidden with magic.
“Uther, dear,” Ygraine said, breaking the king from his scrutiny of them. She said no more, instead giving him a look that only the king seemed to understand. He sighed and nodded. Together, he and Ygraine rose to their feet.
“Come. I will speak with you in private as you requested,” Uther announced. He took the Queen’s arm, and the two swept out of the hall through their private exit.
Arthur nodded to Leon, who took the knights who’d escorted them and left. Arthur and Lancelot picked up the chest again, and the group of them followed the king and queen out of the room, leaving in their wake a fury of whispers from the court.
Despite his role in assisting Arthur, Merlin’s presence wasn’t allowed as Arthur and Lancelot made their case to the king and queen behind the closed doors of their inner chambers, so he sat in the antechamber with Gwen for company. Will had declared he’d rather not take part in whatever politics they were getting themselves involved in and had slipped out in search of the kitchens.
“So, Merlin,” Gwen said, smoothing the folds of her skirt nonchalantly, “are you still going to deny that you and Arthur don’t have feelings for each other?”
Merlin coughed. “Sorry? I thought we already discussed this.”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Merlin. I’m not blind. I see the way you two look at each other,” Gwen said.
“Don’t you mean the way you and Lancelot look at each other?” Merlin took the chance to tease, and Gwen flushed quite visibly.
“We don’t-I mean-oh, don’t think you can avoid this that easily, Merlin.” Gwen scowled at him. “You and Arthur. You’ve changed Arthur. Ever since he met you, he’s changed, become a better man. You did that, Merlin, and he’s never acted the way he does with you. I won’t know what happened since I saw you last, and perhaps it is because you have your magic back, but I think you’ve changed because of him too. It’s strange, but you complete each other. The two of you together, there’s a sense of greatness to you.”
Merlin blinked at her, and then said, “Are you sure you haven’t been speaking to Kilgharrah?”
Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. “The dragon? Why?”
“Because you’re sounding like him, only less cryptic,” Merlin said with a shrug. “But…” Merlin bit his bottom lip, wavering between telling her the truth or not. “…I care about Arthur…and he cares about me-” Merlin cut off Gwen’s exclamation of delight by saying, “but please don’t say anything about it. It’s really not the time and place, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”
“Of course not,” Gwen said, taking his hands into her. “Merlin, you could very well be the best thing that’s ever happened to Arthur.” Merlin gave her a disbelieving look. “I mean it. Honestly. I won’t do anything that might separate you two. Like I said, you’re destined for great things, the two of you.”
Merlin opened his mouth to remark on that, but before the words could come out, the doors to the inner chambers burst open and the Pendragon family and Lancelot entered the antechamber.
“Ygraine and I will be waiting in the throne room,” Uther was saying. “Find Nimueh and Morgause and all the Northumbrians with them and bring them to us. These villains must be dealt with.”
“Yes, sire,” Arthur and Lancelot both answered. “I’ve already instructed Sir Leon to have an eye on them. It shouldn’t be difficult to find them,” Arthur added.
“Then first get your guests situated into rooms, my boy,” Ygraine said, giving Arthur a warm smile and a pat on his arm. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Ygraine added, “The priestesses aren’t brutes. If there was anything I learned about them that is correct, it’s that they will choose to talk first rather than lash out. Unless they’ve already fled, of course. Don’t worry. You’ll have time.” She gave Arthur’s arm a light squeeze.
Arthur frowned a little, considering her words, before he nodded and said, “Yes, Mother.”
Uther , though, still looked ready to argue, but Ygraine gave him a stern look. “Lady Gwen deserves the best treatment we can give her, as do the people who saved our son’s life,” she said. Uther sighed and nodded.
“Very well, Arthur, get your guests situated but make sure the guards are looking for the Northumbrians,” Uther acquiesced.
“Yes, sire,” Arthur said.
With another nod, Uther left with Ygraine for the throne room, but not before she’d given Gwen and Merlin a smile. Merlin definitely liked the Queen better than the King.
“Lancelot, Gwen, you’re welcome to take the rooms you’ve always been given. I’m sure they’ve already been prepared for use,” Arthur said. Gwen and Merlin got to their feet.
Lancelot cleared his throat before holding out an arm and saying to Gwen, “Allow me to escort you, milady.”
“Of course,” Gwen replied, taking Lancelot’s arm as Merlin and Arthur exchanged looks. Merlin gave Gwen a smirk before she hissed, “Hush, you. You’re one to talk.” She gave him a pointed look before leaving with Lancelot.
“…she knows, doesn’t she?” Arthur asked the moment the two had left.
“Yes, she does,” Merlin said. “It’s not a problem for you, is it?” He searched Arthur’s face for answer but only found what looked like exasperation.
Arthur sighed. “It’s all right. You can’t really hide things from Gwen.”
“If you’re sure…”
“She won’t give us away, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Merlin shook his head. “I know that. I mean, you’re okay with it? We haven’t had time to discuss anything. You know, us-how to act around others, what we expect from each other, those kinds of things. And I’m a sorcerer.”
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You’re right. Until we’ve brought Nimueh and Morgause to justice, however, I don’t believe we really can figure things out. Even from a friendship perspective, my father won’t like that you were once a slave and that you’ve somehow overcome the Rites, though my mother is probably delighted with you right now. Though maybe if we said you’re practically Carmarthian royalty and tell them everything you’ve done for me and Camelot, my father’s opinion might change.”
“You’re going to lie to your father? For me?”
“More like omitting certain things and telling him the things he’d approve of. All I can say is, I’m glad you’re here, Merlin, and I can’t guarantee how things will work, but I swore to you that I’d made things right again, and I will. And when I’m king, Merlin, you’ll have a place by my side-as a court sorcerer, as an advisor, as a consort, whatever it takes.”
Merlin sputtered at his words, because he really hadn’t expected Arthur to surprise him more than he’d had already over the past several months. “Consort?” he repeated, and Arthur looked vaguely panicked.
“Obviously, it’s a bit too soon for that, and I don’t know if it’ll actually happen,” Arthur corrected. “The court certainly wouldn’t approve, and I have a duty to continuing the Pendragon line. I just-” Merlin cut him off by pulling Arthur forward and giving him a firm kiss on the lips.
“For now, let’s just take what we can get, yeah?” Merlin grinned.
“Yes, I supposed we can do that,” Arthur said in his most prattish voice that Merlin knew was for show, and Merlin couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“Since that’s out of the way, why don’t I show you to your chambers?” Arthur said after a pause He gave Merlin a look was probably supposed to be suggestive but came off as slightly ridiculous. Merlin rolled his eyes.
“It’s not like we can do anything. We need to find Nimueh and Morgause.”
“My mother said I should make sure my guests are comfortably situated, and I intend to do just that.”
“You’re a mummy’s boy?” Merlin teased.
Arthur lightly cuffed the back of his head. “Shut up, Merlin.”
As they travelled through the halls of Camelot, Arthur pointed out small features of the castle and recounted tales from his childhood relating to them. Merlin spent a great portion of the time laugh, sometimes with Arthur and sometimes at him, and for those several minutes, they shut out the rest of the world, forgot about the tasks that still remained. Of course, this only lasted until Arthur showed him a set of guest rooms in the eastern wing, where Arthur hinted his own rooms were close to.
“Sire, the Northumbrian delegates have disappeared,” a guard called, running down the hallway to Arthur.
Arthur frowned before saying to Merlin, “I better go help the knights. I’ll send someone for you when we find them.”
“Why can’t I just go with you?”
“There’s no need for both of us to look in the same places. If you can keep yourself from getting lost, you can look on your own. But let me know if you find them.”
Merlin snorted, “You mean before they attack me or I try and stop them?”
“I’m serious, Merlin. I need you to be careful.”
“I will be,” Merlin reassured him. Arthur gave him a stern look before clapping a hand briefly on his shoulder and leaving with the guard.
Instead of cooping himself in the chambers, though he did take time to glance around, Merlin opted to instead wander the halls, searching for the priestesses on his own as Arthur had begrudgingly suggested. Arthur had only left for a few minutes when Merlin encountered trouble.
“Merlin, or should I say Emrys?” he heard a voice behind him say. He didn’t have the time to react before an armored arm was thrown over his shoulders and a small blade was pressed lightly to the side of his throat. He glanced to the side and recognized Morgause right away, though she looked different with her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail.
“Morgause, are you here to kill me for interfering?” Merlin said, glancing back and forth between her face and the knife.
“Actually, I thought we’d have a chat first,” she said. “Come, walk with me.”
Left without a choice, Merlin allowed her to urge him into walking alongside her, the blade hidden in her hand still touching his neck.
Then Merlin blinked, and he could feel magic wrapping itself around him. The world shifted. One moment he was walking down a hall of Camelot and then next he was walking on the Isle of the Blessed, the place Nimueh used to oversee when she was in charge of the Cup of Life. Since her exile, no one he knew of had ever made the journey to the Isle, but he had no difficulty recognizing it. The ruins of a castle surrounded them, ancient runes older than the Old Languages still visible in the walls still standing. The old magic seeped into the ground and heavy in the air made his skin prickle and the magic in his blood sing in response. The buzz of adrenaline that he’d managed to clamp down on after regaining his magic was back again, and he struggled to keep it from distorting his awareness to everything around him.
Morgause let go of him now that he didn’t really have anywhere to go to. Merlin followed Morgause warily, splitting his attention on keeping an eye on her and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. She took him to the center of the ruins, where grass covered any hint of a stone floor and Nimueh stood with bare feet in a long red dress. She smiled at the sight of him, and he was reminded of how much he disliked her smile. Distractedly, he realized he’d seen her smile-and Morgause’s eyes-before, in fragmented, half-remembered dreams; it seemed the dreams had been visions.
“How good to finally meet you properly, Warlock,” Nimueh greeted him. Morgause crossed the expanse of grass to join Nimueh’s side, but Merlin remained where he was, watching the two of them warily.
“Morgause said you wanted to talk,” he said, keeping his hands loose by his side. He didn’t always need his hands to do magic, but using hands helped with his control which was already being tested these days.
“Yes. Do you know of what we wish to achieve?” she asked.
“You want to create a world ruled by magic, and you tried to use Arthur do to so. “
“Yes, and you are destined to become the greatest sorcerer of all time. We should not be enemies, Emrys,” Nimueh said.
“Join us. You are a creature of the Old Religion just like us,” Morgause added.
“I’m nothing like you. You’re mistaken if you think I’ll join forces with you,” Merlin replied. “Thousands of lives will be lost if you try to seize Albion. Your desires are selfish and cruel. The two of you have lost sight of what the Old Religion is about, and I want no part of it.”
Nimueh’s deceptively sweet smile left, her face turning hard and cold. “So be it. Unfortunately, we can’t have you interfere with our plans again.”
With a flick of her wrist, and a few words, a beam of magic, red hot and crackling, cut the air and straight at him. Fortunately, it was a spell he recognized well, having used it often during the war, and he shouted out a cancelling spell, stopping before it reached him. But Morgause took advantage of his attention on Nimueh to send a different spell at him. Merlin cursed under his breath-he hadn’t dueled another sorcerer in years, let alone two of them like the priestesses-and he threw up a shield to deflect the burst of power, but abruptly, the attack was dispelled before it’d even touched his shield.
Emrys, a voice echoed in his head. He glanced to his right and spotted Mordred, appearing from the ruins and lashing out at Morgause with a whip of magic.
“Mordred, I am disappointed in you,” Morgause said, slicing the whip to pieces with a swipe of her hand. Mordred gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Mordred, why are you here? Merlin asked, unable to hide his surprise. He ducked just in time to avoid the ball of crackling energy Nimueh threw his way.
I had a change of heart, Mordred replied lightly, shielding himself from an attack from Morgause.
Really? Merlin said, his mental voice heavy with disbelief.
No. But wouldn’t you like help? You should be more careful, Mordred remarked.
“Holding private conversations, boys? Don’t you underestimate us,” Nimueh hissed, throwing a slew of spells at Merlin. He deflected a few of them while finding a few that he could simply absorb into his outstretched hand to reuse.
He and Mordred cut off communications, throwing themselves fully into battle against the two priestesses. Merlin tried not to think of how much it reminded of his childhood, of fighting alongside Mordred in paired duels or against rampant magical creatures. He hoped, for now at least, that he could trust Mordred.
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Mordred blast a wave of magic at Morgause that flung her against one of the columns still standing among the ruins. Another blast hit her, and she stopped moving. Merlin felt old magic around him shift and grow. Morgause was dead.
Merlin turned his attention back to Nimueh, just in time to deflect a shower of ice daggers. He retaliated with a collection of jagged stones wrapped in magic, but Nimueh lit them on fire with a chant and repelled them back at him. With a rushed whisper under his breath, they turn into ash before they can hit him.
But they were merely a distraction and Merlin was too slow to react to the fireball Nimueh hurled at him. It hit him in the chest and sent him flying onto his back. He gasped at the pain blooming on his chest. He was stunned by it, mind bleary and unable to move as Nimueh stepped a little closer.
“This is the end, Emrys. Such a pity. I expected more.” With a wave of her hand, blades of pure magic flew at him. Unable to move, he could only watch their path through the air to him.
Suddenly, Mordred was in front of him, standing halfway between Ninmueh and Merlin with a hastily thrown up shield. The shield didn’t hold. Merlin watched in shock as the blades sink into Mordred’s chest. Mordred stumbled back a step with a wet cough-blood in his lungs-before crumpling to the sodden grass.
Nimueh shrieked her anger, but the time Mordred had given Merlin was enough. Enough for him to finally move, and to take advantage of her distraction. The power that was always there, deep inside him, the power that required no commanding words, no incantations, just instinct, roared up and out of his body with the simple raise of his hand. Lightning shot from his fingers and engulfed Nimueh before she could lift even a finger. With another shriek, this time of pain, Nimueh was ripped to shreds. Merlin stumbled back a step at the drain in his powers, watching the priestess’s ashes disintegrate.
“Mordred,” Merlin called the moment all traces of Nimueh disappeared into the air. He rushed to the man’s side.
I never did forget, Emrys, his once-friend said into his head, sounding as raspy as if he were actually speaking. A little late, but I promised I’d be there for you if you needed me, didn’t I?
Why? Merlin wasn’t sure if he was asking why Mordred had betrayed him or why he’d protected him, but maybe it was both.
I’ve always envied you. You had everything I wanted-friends, family, Morgana, respect, real power-and sometimes…I hated you, and I hated myself because you were my friend. That day…I wanted you to suffer, but I never wanted to see you dead. I knew you’d survive.
Merlin sighed. I don’t understand you, Mordred.
You were my closest friend. You understood me better than most. Mordred’s eyes fluttered shut. Take care of yourself, Emrys.
I will, Merlin said, but Mordred was gone. Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
On to Part Eleven | Masterpost