Fic: In Ending We Begin
Title: In Ending We Begin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: R (for violent death)
Warnings: Major and violent character death, slight hints of dark!Merlin
Wordcount: 1019
Summary: Albion demands her king and Merlin must bring him back, no matter what the cost.
Author's Notes: Slightly dark reincarnation with a twist. Please heed warnings.
In Ending We Begin
The sky darkens as a lone figure stands on a hill. The light rain blows around him and he holds out his hands to catch it. He can feel Albion is ready, she wants her king, and he shall be the one to give him to her. After-all that's why he's lived all these long, lonely centuries; waiting, observing and hoping for the day when Arthur will return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's dark when Andrew Brown leaves his office and walks to his car. He isn't worried, there's plenty of light from the lampposts dotted about the car park and it's not that late. As he approaches his car he sees someone standing next to it and he tenses a little.
When he gets closer he sees the man is young looking and dressed like a student. There's nothing that looks particularly threatening about him and so Andrew relaxes slightly.
“Hello,” the stranger says.
“Hello,” Andrew replies, disabling his car alarm.
The stranger reaches out as if he wants to touch him but then he pulls back.
“Can I help you?” Andrew asks.
There’s a smile as the stranger nods. “Yes, you can,” he says.
Andrew notices a flash of gold in the stranger's eyes before he feels himself losing consciousness, as if he's fainting. Strong arms support him as his legs give way and then the world is nothing but darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When he comes to Andrew has no idea what time it is. He doesn't know where he is either. He feels cold and sees he's naked, naked and tied onto some sort of stone table with chains. He looks up at the ceiling; it's vaulted and looks a little like a church or a castle. All around are lit candles, the smell of burning wax fills the air.
He's aware of someone else in the room. He can’t move far, he's held immobile, the chains are tight, but he can turn his head to look to the side. In the dim light he sees the strange young man from the car park standing close to him, cradling something in his hands.
“What do you want?” Andrew asks.
“I want to be whole again,” the stranger says. He's wearing robes now, deep blue robes. “I want him to come back, I need him to come back.”
“Who do you need to come back?”
“She's asking for him now,” the stranger says, looking at Andrew and smiling. “I had to wait until she needed him again.”
“Who?” Andrew asks again.
Again the question is ignored. The stranger reveals that he's holding a knife in his hands, it glints as he holds it next to a candle near Andrew's head. “It took me two centuries to find this,” the stranger says. “I needed the right one.”
“Look,” Andrew says, his heart pounding and beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he realises his predicament, “just let me go.”
The stranger shakes his head. “I can't,” he says. “I'm Merlin.”
The man is clearly insane, Andrew thinks. Perhaps he's acting under some weird delusion.
The blue eyes of the man calling himself Merlin look hard, sad and determined, a maelstrom of emotion but with truth underpinning it. “I am sorry,” Merlin says.
“What for?” Andrew asks.
Merlin’s finger strokes the knife blade tenderly, as if it might break under his touch. “He has to live,” he says. “He has to live which means you have to die.”
“No,” Andrew chokes out, fear gripping him so tightly he can't breathe properly.
“He's in there,” Merlin says, staring at Andrew. “He's in you but he can't come out. When you die he can come out. He will live again.”
“No-one has to die,” Andrew says, desperately struggling against the bonds that hold him firmly to the table. “You don't have to kill me.”
“There's a price for everything,” Merlin says, walking around the table to stand over Andrew. “I am truly sorry. It won't hurt for long.”
Merlin raises the knife above his head and begins to utter words in a strange voice that seems to echo beyond the range of a human voice. Andrew can feel it in his bones, vibrating them down to the core. He looks up in terror to see the knife glowing in Merlin's hands.
“No, please, no,” he says, but Merlin doesn’t acknowledge his words, focussed as he is on his task.
It seems then that time slows down. Andrew sees the knife as Merlin brings it down but it takes an age. At the last moment he closes his eyes and screams as the white hot blade pierces through his flesh and goes into his heart. That's the last thing Andrew Brown ever feels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not long after Merlin looks down at the body on the stone altar. He's carefully removed the chains and cleaned the wound, bandaging it tight so it will heal. He waits and watches as the moments tick by. Then suddenly there's a gasp as breath is drawn, the chest rises and falls, and he smiles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur aches all over. His chest feels sore, as if he's suffered an injury on the battlefield. He groans as he opens his eyes to see Merlin smiling over him.
“Merlin,” he says, his voice is croaky and he feels weak.
Merlin gently strokes his cheek. Arthur smiles at the tender touch. Merlin has always taken care of him, has always protected him. “Merlin,” he whispers.
Merlin bends down and places a light kiss upon Arthur's lips. “My king,” he says, pulling back, his eyes welling with tears. “My king, Arthur, you have returned.”
“Thank you,” Arthur says.
Arthur feels Merlin take him into his arms. He can feel the strain of many lifetimes begin to dissipate. Everything is now as it should be. They are one, they are together and Albion has her king once more.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: R (for violent death)
Warnings: Major and violent character death, slight hints of dark!Merlin
Wordcount: 1019
Summary: Albion demands her king and Merlin must bring him back, no matter what the cost.
Author's Notes: Slightly dark reincarnation with a twist. Please heed warnings.
In Ending We Begin
The sky darkens as a lone figure stands on a hill. The light rain blows around him and he holds out his hands to catch it. He can feel Albion is ready, she wants her king, and he shall be the one to give him to her. After-all that's why he's lived all these long, lonely centuries; waiting, observing and hoping for the day when Arthur will return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's dark when Andrew Brown leaves his office and walks to his car. He isn't worried, there's plenty of light from the lampposts dotted about the car park and it's not that late. As he approaches his car he sees someone standing next to it and he tenses a little.
When he gets closer he sees the man is young looking and dressed like a student. There's nothing that looks particularly threatening about him and so Andrew relaxes slightly.
“Hello,” the stranger says.
“Hello,” Andrew replies, disabling his car alarm.
The stranger reaches out as if he wants to touch him but then he pulls back.
“Can I help you?” Andrew asks.
There’s a smile as the stranger nods. “Yes, you can,” he says.
Andrew notices a flash of gold in the stranger's eyes before he feels himself losing consciousness, as if he's fainting. Strong arms support him as his legs give way and then the world is nothing but darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When he comes to Andrew has no idea what time it is. He doesn't know where he is either. He feels cold and sees he's naked, naked and tied onto some sort of stone table with chains. He looks up at the ceiling; it's vaulted and looks a little like a church or a castle. All around are lit candles, the smell of burning wax fills the air.
He's aware of someone else in the room. He can’t move far, he's held immobile, the chains are tight, but he can turn his head to look to the side. In the dim light he sees the strange young man from the car park standing close to him, cradling something in his hands.
“What do you want?” Andrew asks.
“I want to be whole again,” the stranger says. He's wearing robes now, deep blue robes. “I want him to come back, I need him to come back.”
“Who do you need to come back?”
“She's asking for him now,” the stranger says, looking at Andrew and smiling. “I had to wait until she needed him again.”
“Who?” Andrew asks again.
Again the question is ignored. The stranger reveals that he's holding a knife in his hands, it glints as he holds it next to a candle near Andrew's head. “It took me two centuries to find this,” the stranger says. “I needed the right one.”
“Look,” Andrew says, his heart pounding and beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he realises his predicament, “just let me go.”
The stranger shakes his head. “I can't,” he says. “I'm Merlin.”
The man is clearly insane, Andrew thinks. Perhaps he's acting under some weird delusion.
The blue eyes of the man calling himself Merlin look hard, sad and determined, a maelstrom of emotion but with truth underpinning it. “I am sorry,” Merlin says.
“What for?” Andrew asks.
Merlin’s finger strokes the knife blade tenderly, as if it might break under his touch. “He has to live,” he says. “He has to live which means you have to die.”
“No,” Andrew chokes out, fear gripping him so tightly he can't breathe properly.
“He's in there,” Merlin says, staring at Andrew. “He's in you but he can't come out. When you die he can come out. He will live again.”
“No-one has to die,” Andrew says, desperately struggling against the bonds that hold him firmly to the table. “You don't have to kill me.”
“There's a price for everything,” Merlin says, walking around the table to stand over Andrew. “I am truly sorry. It won't hurt for long.”
Merlin raises the knife above his head and begins to utter words in a strange voice that seems to echo beyond the range of a human voice. Andrew can feel it in his bones, vibrating them down to the core. He looks up in terror to see the knife glowing in Merlin's hands.
“No, please, no,” he says, but Merlin doesn’t acknowledge his words, focussed as he is on his task.
It seems then that time slows down. Andrew sees the knife as Merlin brings it down but it takes an age. At the last moment he closes his eyes and screams as the white hot blade pierces through his flesh and goes into his heart. That's the last thing Andrew Brown ever feels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not long after Merlin looks down at the body on the stone altar. He's carefully removed the chains and cleaned the wound, bandaging it tight so it will heal. He waits and watches as the moments tick by. Then suddenly there's a gasp as breath is drawn, the chest rises and falls, and he smiles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur aches all over. His chest feels sore, as if he's suffered an injury on the battlefield. He groans as he opens his eyes to see Merlin smiling over him.
“Merlin,” he says, his voice is croaky and he feels weak.
Merlin gently strokes his cheek. Arthur smiles at the tender touch. Merlin has always taken care of him, has always protected him. “Merlin,” he whispers.
Merlin bends down and places a light kiss upon Arthur's lips. “My king,” he says, pulling back, his eyes welling with tears. “My king, Arthur, you have returned.”
“Thank you,” Arthur says.
Arthur feels Merlin take him into his arms. He can feel the strain of many lifetimes begin to dissipate. Everything is now as it should be. They are one, they are together and Albion has her king once more.