Merlin Fic: How Magic Returned to Camelot (8/?)
Title ~ How Magic Returned To Camelot (8/?)
Rating ~ 15+
Characters ~ Full cast, eventual Merlin/Arthur & some Gwen/Lancelot
Summary ~ It has been five years since Nimueh was defeated on the Isle of the Blessed, and all is well in Camelot. However, Morderd’s return on the eve of Uther’s sixtieth birthday sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything …
Warnings ~ Character death (in Chapter Six; not one of the main four). Angst.
Notes ~ Not compliant with Series 2 canon (therefore technically a future!AU). Huge thanks to ice_elf for the beta. See Index Post for further notes.
Disclaimer ~ Merlin belongs to the BBC and Shine.
Chapter Index can be found here.
Merlin woke slowly, feeling disorientated. He remembered being in the courtyard. He remembered seeing Mordred, followed swiftly by a squeezing pain in his chest and the sensation of falling. Then everything had become the dark and hazy blank of unconsciousness. As he blinked uncertainly at the ceiling, waiting for it to swim into focus, he heard voices.
“Calm down. Tell me from the beginning.”
Gaius; the tone was unmistakeable. He risked raising his head, and confirmed his suspicion that he was lying in his own bed. The door to the outer chamber was half open.
“Sorry,” said another voice, easily identifiable as Gwen. After a moment, she continued, “After the tournament, Morgana heard someone call to her and she went to speak with him. He was a druid - he said he was the boy we saved.”
“And was he?” Gaius asked sharply before Gwen could say more. Merlin could imagine his face easily: lips pursed into a thin, disapproving line and expressive brows raised high on his forehead.
“It could have been,” Gwen replied; she sounded uncertain and worried, distracted almost. Merlin wondered what was bothering her. “He seemed familiar. I don’t know. Morgana believed him, anyway.”
She paused as if to gather her thoughts and Merlin took the opportunity to try sitting up. As he pushed himself upright, he became aware of a tight ache within his chest - not so much sharp as a surprise. It was enough to make him gasp. He pressed a hand to his ribs, listening intently and silently hoping that Gaius hadn’t heard him; he knew from experience that the physician would not allow Gwen to continue until he had been thoroughly examined.
There was no sound of approaching footsteps from the other side of the door, much to Merlin’s relief. He rubbed absently at the pain in his chest and waited for Gwen to speak again.
“He wanted to speak to her in private,” she said eventually. “She - oh, Gaius, she told him to come to the castle.”
Merlin heard the old man’s sharp intake of breath, and hoped that it had masked his own. “Did he come?”
“Yes. Yesterday morning,” she murmured. She sounded nervous and miserable, upset by the implications of what she and Morgana had become mixed up in. “I should have stopped her, or said something.” Merlin could see Gwen shaking her head at her own perceived foolishness in his mind’s eye. “Now Arthur thinks -”
“I know what Arthur thinks,” Gaius said darkly, cutting her off before she could finish and intriguing Merlin even further. There was the sound of footsteps and for a moment Merlin thought that Gaius was going to check on him, but instead of the door opening there was a creak of wood as he sank into one of workroom’s chairs. “The sorcerer who attacked Merlin was the druid Morgana saw?”
“Yes.” Gwen’s answer was reluctant, but after a short hesitation she continued, “I think - that’s probably why she protected him. When he came to see her, he said - he told her that they’re brother and sister. I don’t know if it’s true, but Morgana believed him. Not necessarily all of his story, but that part.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Gaius murmured, “And when he was with her, did he say anything else? Anything suspicious?”
“Not to Morgana,” Gwen said slowly, as if she were running something through her mind. “But, when I was taking him to her chambers, he asked about the King. About Uther, I mean. I thought he was just nervous about being caught - I only told him that he would be on the other side of the castle, nothing else.”
The need to qualify which king she was taking about made Merlin’s stomach clench, for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom. On the other side of the door, Gaius sighed deeply. “If I were you, I would keep that to yourself until Arthur’s temper has cooled. At the moment, he seems likely to lash out at anyone he can blame for his father’s death.”
“What if he has her executed?” Gwen said in a very small voice. Gaius made no reply. Merlin, frowning deeply now, threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He stumbled across to the door and pushed it open.
“Who?”
“Merlin!” Gaius gasped, looking up in surprise. He rose to his feet, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. “You ought to be in bed!”
“I’m fine,” Merlin insisted as he started down the steps, one hand still pressed over his heart. “Who might Arthur execute? And why?”
“Merlin,” Gaius rumbled, hurrying across to catch him at the elbow as he staggered off the bottom step. “Come and sit down before you fall over.”
He allowed the physician to lead him across to the workroom’s narrow cot and sat down without complaint. Gaius tried to make him lie down, but he shoved his hands away and turned to Gwen. “What’s going on?”
She sighed and sat down in Gaius’ chair, her hands folded in her lap. Gaius sat down on the bed next to Merlin and took his wrist, his fingers feeling for the pulse.
“Arthur had Morgana imprisoned. She stopped him from shooting the sorcerer who attacked you,” she said, glancing at Gaius. “He says she’s committed an act of treason. He thinks -”
Gwen broke off, looking down at her hands. Gaius continued for her, “He thinks Morgana helped the druid to enter the castle and poison Uther. She may have helped him into the castle, but I doubt that she knew his intentions - even if he is guilty.”
“He is,” Merlin said with conviction, before remembering too late that Gwen was in the room. Both she and Gaius looked at him, but where Gwen looked curious the physician’s eyes were sharp with warning.
“How can you know that?” Gwen asked.
“Well,” Merlin mumbled; he could hardly say that Mordred had all but confessed telepathically, and what he had seen in the kitchens was hardly damning. He could have just been helping to put thing away - and there was nothing to say that he had poisoned the goblet at that moment. Merlin hadn’t actually seen him do it. The pain in Merlin’s chest had worsened with the walk from one room to the next, and was becoming distracting. He couldn’t think. “I -”
“I am sure,” Gaius interrupted, glaring at Merlin, “That Merlin has a very good reason for accusing him, but for now I think he ought to lie back and let me listen to his heart.”
This time, when Gaius pushed at him, Merlin lay back without complaint, hoping that the physician could see the gratitude in his eyes. Gaius pursed his lips in a way that told Merlin that he was going to get a severe talking-to later about subtlety and learning when to keep his mouth shut, but he said nothing, instead pulling Merlin’s tunic apart at the throat to revel his chest and laying his ear over his heart.
“What exactly happened?” Merlin asked.
“Quiet,” Gaius ordered irritably, trying to listen. Merlin looked over at Gwen and raised his eyebrows, silently asking for an explanation.
“You don’t remember?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper so as not to distract Gaius. Merlin shook his head. “The druid you saw attacked you, with magic.”
Merlin nodded; he remembered that much, at least. He suddenly heard Arthur’s voice very clearly inside his head, mocking him for passing out - you fainted, Merlin? I always knew you were a girl - which probably wasn’t healthy in the slightest. Gwen licked her lips, glancing nervously at Gaius. He lifted his head from Merlin’s chest and sighed deeply.
“He stopped your heart.” He paused to take in Merlin’s shocked expression, then continued, “It restarted as soon as he disappeared, but -”
“We thought you were dead,” Gwen interrupted, approaching the bed and taking Merlin’s hand in a grip that was uncomfortably - but understandably - tight. He looked at Gaius for confirmation, and the physician nodded gravely.
“You’ll be pleased to know that your heart seems to be working perfectly now,” he reassured Merlin, patting him on the shoulder and then rising to his feet and going across to his worktable. “But just in case, you probably shouldn’t do anything strenuous for the next couple of days. I don’t want you having a magic-induced heart attack.” He returned to the bed, holding out a beaker of something that probably tasted like dirty dishwater, or worse. “Here, drink this; it will help with the pain.”
Obediently, Merlin took the draught and downed it in one, trying not to let it touch his tongue on the way down. He was right in his suspicions - the potion left a foul taste on his tongue - but he knew from long experience that the worse the cure tasted the more effective it was likely to be. He pulled his face anyway as he handed the beaker back to Gaius. “Any chance you could put something in these things to sweeten them?”
“Unfortunately, sweetening would make it less effective,” Gaius replied with a smile. “Let me know if the pain gets any worse.”
“I will,” Merlin replied, pushing himself up on his elbows. “So, what do you think Arthur’s going to do? About Morgana, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” Gwen said quietly. “He was furious - I heard some of the guards talking.”
“I should go and see him,” Merlin muttered, mostly talking to himself. He swung his legs off the bed and got up, starting for the door.
“Merlin! You should be resting!” Gaius told him, stepping directing into his path in an attempt to block his exit. Merlin ducked around him and pulled open the door.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll rest later.”
“He’s not letting anyone see him!” Gwen shouted as he went out into the corridor.
“He’ll see me,” Merlin told her, and flashed a grin before he shut the door.
Arthur heard someone open the door, and knew that it could only be Merlin. No one else would dare to come and see him at the moment, let alone without knocking. He briefly let himself wonder if anyone else would bother. Merlin pottered about the room for a while, idly tidying so that he had an excuse to be there, and Arthur let him get on without complaint. It was comforting to know that Merlin still didn’t understand concepts such as knocking, privacy and being subtle. He could almost hear Merlin fretting from across the room. He smiled to himself; that was comforting, too.
Suddenly, a thought struck him and he twisted around to look at Merlin for the first time. “Are you all right?”
Merlin looked up guiltily from the pillow he had been plumping and gave Arthur an odd look. “What?”
“The Druid attacked you, earlier, and I never asked …” Arthur said quietly as the realisation hit him that Merlin could have died as a result of whatever magic the Druid had used. He had been too consumed by his anger towards Morgana that he hadn’t given his manservant a single thought. He swallowed thickly, unable to look Merlin in the eyes.
“Gaius wouldn’t have let me out of bed if I wasn’t fine,” Merlin said, his voice suspiciously bright and cheery. Arthur got up and walked over to the bed, leaning on one of the posts and watching Merlin carefully as he finished with one pillow and started on the next. Once he had fluffed all of Arthur’s pillows and put them back in their place, he looked up and raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to keel over, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
Arthur shook his head at him, trying to hide a small smile, and went over to the window. The courtyard was empty now, but it was a reminder of the morning, and so of his failure and of Morgana’s betrayal. He swallowed hard, his slightly improved mood evaporating.
“I suppose you’ve heard about what happened.”
“Sort of,” Merlin replied, and Arthur knew from his voice that he was hedging his bets, hoping to get Arthur’s version of events before he committed himself to any knowledge. “I heard Gaius and Gwen talking a bit, but …” He trailed off and waited. Arthur let the silence stretch, unwilling to talk, even to Merlin. The sting of it was too fresh. Eventually, Merlin cleared his throat. “They said you imprisoned Morgana.”
His voice was quiet, the words hovering somewhere between a statement and a question, as if Merlin didn’t want to believe that Arthur had done it. He raised his chin defiantly. Merlin’s disapproval didn’t matter, he told himself; he was just a servant.
“She allowed a Druid into the castle -”
“She didn’t want Uther dead!” Merlin protested, and irrational anger suddenly surged up inside of Arthur’s chest. His manservant took a step closer, but froze in his tracks when Arthur’s eyes met his. He didn’t look away, however. He met Arthur’s gaze unflinchingly.
“My father was murdered,” Arthur said quietly, as if Merlin suffered from some grievous mental affliction and hadn’t yet wrapped his head around that fact. “And Morgana was involved.”
“And you’re upset about it - I understand!”
“How dare you,” Arthur snarled, marching across the room and right into Merlin’s personal space until there was less than an inch between them, forcing Merlin to take a step back. He didn’t have the advantage of height, since Merlin was fractionally taller than he was when he didn’t slouch, so he used his bulk to his advantage instead, just as he would during a tournament or in a real battle. He forced Merlin backwards until he came up against one of the bedposts. “You can’t possibly understand!”
“You’re only blaming Morgana because your guards didn’t catch the Druid -”
“Someone has to be punished -”
“Why Morgana? You saw her after he died - she was distraught! No one is that good at pretending -”
“Stop defending her!” Arthur snapped. Merlin shut his mouth and glared silently at him for a moment, then shoved past him and strode over to the door.
“If you need anything, sire,” he said without turning, wrenching one of the doors open; the title felt like a verbal slap in the face, “You can send someone to find me.”
Merlin slammed the door behind him, leaving Arthur alone again. For a few moments, Arthur stared after him, breathing hard. Then he turned and sat down heavily on the bed, leaning forwards until he could rest his elbows on his knees. He was exhausted. He had barely slept the night before, and the couple of hours he had snatched had been spent tossing and turning. He woke several times with his father’s voice ringing in his ears and his chest and throat tightened by grief.
He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes with his palms and forcing back the tears that threatened to spill between his closed lids.
.
Rating ~ 15+
Characters ~ Full cast, eventual Merlin/Arthur & some Gwen/Lancelot
Summary ~ It has been five years since Nimueh was defeated on the Isle of the Blessed, and all is well in Camelot. However, Morderd’s return on the eve of Uther’s sixtieth birthday sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything …
Warnings ~ Character death (in Chapter Six; not one of the main four). Angst.
Notes ~ Not compliant with Series 2 canon (therefore technically a future!AU). Huge thanks to ice_elf for the beta. See Index Post for further notes.
Disclaimer ~ Merlin belongs to the BBC and Shine.
Chapter Index can be found here.
Merlin woke slowly, feeling disorientated. He remembered being in the courtyard. He remembered seeing Mordred, followed swiftly by a squeezing pain in his chest and the sensation of falling. Then everything had become the dark and hazy blank of unconsciousness. As he blinked uncertainly at the ceiling, waiting for it to swim into focus, he heard voices.
“Calm down. Tell me from the beginning.”
Gaius; the tone was unmistakeable. He risked raising his head, and confirmed his suspicion that he was lying in his own bed. The door to the outer chamber was half open.
“Sorry,” said another voice, easily identifiable as Gwen. After a moment, she continued, “After the tournament, Morgana heard someone call to her and she went to speak with him. He was a druid - he said he was the boy we saved.”
“And was he?” Gaius asked sharply before Gwen could say more. Merlin could imagine his face easily: lips pursed into a thin, disapproving line and expressive brows raised high on his forehead.
“It could have been,” Gwen replied; she sounded uncertain and worried, distracted almost. Merlin wondered what was bothering her. “He seemed familiar. I don’t know. Morgana believed him, anyway.”
She paused as if to gather her thoughts and Merlin took the opportunity to try sitting up. As he pushed himself upright, he became aware of a tight ache within his chest - not so much sharp as a surprise. It was enough to make him gasp. He pressed a hand to his ribs, listening intently and silently hoping that Gaius hadn’t heard him; he knew from experience that the physician would not allow Gwen to continue until he had been thoroughly examined.
There was no sound of approaching footsteps from the other side of the door, much to Merlin’s relief. He rubbed absently at the pain in his chest and waited for Gwen to speak again.
“He wanted to speak to her in private,” she said eventually. “She - oh, Gaius, she told him to come to the castle.”
Merlin heard the old man’s sharp intake of breath, and hoped that it had masked his own. “Did he come?”
“Yes. Yesterday morning,” she murmured. She sounded nervous and miserable, upset by the implications of what she and Morgana had become mixed up in. “I should have stopped her, or said something.” Merlin could see Gwen shaking her head at her own perceived foolishness in his mind’s eye. “Now Arthur thinks -”
“I know what Arthur thinks,” Gaius said darkly, cutting her off before she could finish and intriguing Merlin even further. There was the sound of footsteps and for a moment Merlin thought that Gaius was going to check on him, but instead of the door opening there was a creak of wood as he sank into one of workroom’s chairs. “The sorcerer who attacked Merlin was the druid Morgana saw?”
“Yes.” Gwen’s answer was reluctant, but after a short hesitation she continued, “I think - that’s probably why she protected him. When he came to see her, he said - he told her that they’re brother and sister. I don’t know if it’s true, but Morgana believed him. Not necessarily all of his story, but that part.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Gaius murmured, “And when he was with her, did he say anything else? Anything suspicious?”
“Not to Morgana,” Gwen said slowly, as if she were running something through her mind. “But, when I was taking him to her chambers, he asked about the King. About Uther, I mean. I thought he was just nervous about being caught - I only told him that he would be on the other side of the castle, nothing else.”
The need to qualify which king she was taking about made Merlin’s stomach clench, for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom. On the other side of the door, Gaius sighed deeply. “If I were you, I would keep that to yourself until Arthur’s temper has cooled. At the moment, he seems likely to lash out at anyone he can blame for his father’s death.”
“What if he has her executed?” Gwen said in a very small voice. Gaius made no reply. Merlin, frowning deeply now, threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He stumbled across to the door and pushed it open.
“Who?”
“Merlin!” Gaius gasped, looking up in surprise. He rose to his feet, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. “You ought to be in bed!”
“I’m fine,” Merlin insisted as he started down the steps, one hand still pressed over his heart. “Who might Arthur execute? And why?”
“Merlin,” Gaius rumbled, hurrying across to catch him at the elbow as he staggered off the bottom step. “Come and sit down before you fall over.”
He allowed the physician to lead him across to the workroom’s narrow cot and sat down without complaint. Gaius tried to make him lie down, but he shoved his hands away and turned to Gwen. “What’s going on?”
She sighed and sat down in Gaius’ chair, her hands folded in her lap. Gaius sat down on the bed next to Merlin and took his wrist, his fingers feeling for the pulse.
“Arthur had Morgana imprisoned. She stopped him from shooting the sorcerer who attacked you,” she said, glancing at Gaius. “He says she’s committed an act of treason. He thinks -”
Gwen broke off, looking down at her hands. Gaius continued for her, “He thinks Morgana helped the druid to enter the castle and poison Uther. She may have helped him into the castle, but I doubt that she knew his intentions - even if he is guilty.”
“He is,” Merlin said with conviction, before remembering too late that Gwen was in the room. Both she and Gaius looked at him, but where Gwen looked curious the physician’s eyes were sharp with warning.
“How can you know that?” Gwen asked.
“Well,” Merlin mumbled; he could hardly say that Mordred had all but confessed telepathically, and what he had seen in the kitchens was hardly damning. He could have just been helping to put thing away - and there was nothing to say that he had poisoned the goblet at that moment. Merlin hadn’t actually seen him do it. The pain in Merlin’s chest had worsened with the walk from one room to the next, and was becoming distracting. He couldn’t think. “I -”
“I am sure,” Gaius interrupted, glaring at Merlin, “That Merlin has a very good reason for accusing him, but for now I think he ought to lie back and let me listen to his heart.”
This time, when Gaius pushed at him, Merlin lay back without complaint, hoping that the physician could see the gratitude in his eyes. Gaius pursed his lips in a way that told Merlin that he was going to get a severe talking-to later about subtlety and learning when to keep his mouth shut, but he said nothing, instead pulling Merlin’s tunic apart at the throat to revel his chest and laying his ear over his heart.
“What exactly happened?” Merlin asked.
“Quiet,” Gaius ordered irritably, trying to listen. Merlin looked over at Gwen and raised his eyebrows, silently asking for an explanation.
“You don’t remember?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper so as not to distract Gaius. Merlin shook his head. “The druid you saw attacked you, with magic.”
Merlin nodded; he remembered that much, at least. He suddenly heard Arthur’s voice very clearly inside his head, mocking him for passing out - you fainted, Merlin? I always knew you were a girl - which probably wasn’t healthy in the slightest. Gwen licked her lips, glancing nervously at Gaius. He lifted his head from Merlin’s chest and sighed deeply.
“He stopped your heart.” He paused to take in Merlin’s shocked expression, then continued, “It restarted as soon as he disappeared, but -”
“We thought you were dead,” Gwen interrupted, approaching the bed and taking Merlin’s hand in a grip that was uncomfortably - but understandably - tight. He looked at Gaius for confirmation, and the physician nodded gravely.
“You’ll be pleased to know that your heart seems to be working perfectly now,” he reassured Merlin, patting him on the shoulder and then rising to his feet and going across to his worktable. “But just in case, you probably shouldn’t do anything strenuous for the next couple of days. I don’t want you having a magic-induced heart attack.” He returned to the bed, holding out a beaker of something that probably tasted like dirty dishwater, or worse. “Here, drink this; it will help with the pain.”
Obediently, Merlin took the draught and downed it in one, trying not to let it touch his tongue on the way down. He was right in his suspicions - the potion left a foul taste on his tongue - but he knew from long experience that the worse the cure tasted the more effective it was likely to be. He pulled his face anyway as he handed the beaker back to Gaius. “Any chance you could put something in these things to sweeten them?”
“Unfortunately, sweetening would make it less effective,” Gaius replied with a smile. “Let me know if the pain gets any worse.”
“I will,” Merlin replied, pushing himself up on his elbows. “So, what do you think Arthur’s going to do? About Morgana, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” Gwen said quietly. “He was furious - I heard some of the guards talking.”
“I should go and see him,” Merlin muttered, mostly talking to himself. He swung his legs off the bed and got up, starting for the door.
“Merlin! You should be resting!” Gaius told him, stepping directing into his path in an attempt to block his exit. Merlin ducked around him and pulled open the door.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll rest later.”
“He’s not letting anyone see him!” Gwen shouted as he went out into the corridor.
“He’ll see me,” Merlin told her, and flashed a grin before he shut the door.
Arthur heard someone open the door, and knew that it could only be Merlin. No one else would dare to come and see him at the moment, let alone without knocking. He briefly let himself wonder if anyone else would bother. Merlin pottered about the room for a while, idly tidying so that he had an excuse to be there, and Arthur let him get on without complaint. It was comforting to know that Merlin still didn’t understand concepts such as knocking, privacy and being subtle. He could almost hear Merlin fretting from across the room. He smiled to himself; that was comforting, too.
Suddenly, a thought struck him and he twisted around to look at Merlin for the first time. “Are you all right?”
Merlin looked up guiltily from the pillow he had been plumping and gave Arthur an odd look. “What?”
“The Druid attacked you, earlier, and I never asked …” Arthur said quietly as the realisation hit him that Merlin could have died as a result of whatever magic the Druid had used. He had been too consumed by his anger towards Morgana that he hadn’t given his manservant a single thought. He swallowed thickly, unable to look Merlin in the eyes.
“Gaius wouldn’t have let me out of bed if I wasn’t fine,” Merlin said, his voice suspiciously bright and cheery. Arthur got up and walked over to the bed, leaning on one of the posts and watching Merlin carefully as he finished with one pillow and started on the next. Once he had fluffed all of Arthur’s pillows and put them back in their place, he looked up and raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to keel over, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
Arthur shook his head at him, trying to hide a small smile, and went over to the window. The courtyard was empty now, but it was a reminder of the morning, and so of his failure and of Morgana’s betrayal. He swallowed hard, his slightly improved mood evaporating.
“I suppose you’ve heard about what happened.”
“Sort of,” Merlin replied, and Arthur knew from his voice that he was hedging his bets, hoping to get Arthur’s version of events before he committed himself to any knowledge. “I heard Gaius and Gwen talking a bit, but …” He trailed off and waited. Arthur let the silence stretch, unwilling to talk, even to Merlin. The sting of it was too fresh. Eventually, Merlin cleared his throat. “They said you imprisoned Morgana.”
His voice was quiet, the words hovering somewhere between a statement and a question, as if Merlin didn’t want to believe that Arthur had done it. He raised his chin defiantly. Merlin’s disapproval didn’t matter, he told himself; he was just a servant.
“She allowed a Druid into the castle -”
“She didn’t want Uther dead!” Merlin protested, and irrational anger suddenly surged up inside of Arthur’s chest. His manservant took a step closer, but froze in his tracks when Arthur’s eyes met his. He didn’t look away, however. He met Arthur’s gaze unflinchingly.
“My father was murdered,” Arthur said quietly, as if Merlin suffered from some grievous mental affliction and hadn’t yet wrapped his head around that fact. “And Morgana was involved.”
“And you’re upset about it - I understand!”
“How dare you,” Arthur snarled, marching across the room and right into Merlin’s personal space until there was less than an inch between them, forcing Merlin to take a step back. He didn’t have the advantage of height, since Merlin was fractionally taller than he was when he didn’t slouch, so he used his bulk to his advantage instead, just as he would during a tournament or in a real battle. He forced Merlin backwards until he came up against one of the bedposts. “You can’t possibly understand!”
“You’re only blaming Morgana because your guards didn’t catch the Druid -”
“Someone has to be punished -”
“Why Morgana? You saw her after he died - she was distraught! No one is that good at pretending -”
“Stop defending her!” Arthur snapped. Merlin shut his mouth and glared silently at him for a moment, then shoved past him and strode over to the door.
“If you need anything, sire,” he said without turning, wrenching one of the doors open; the title felt like a verbal slap in the face, “You can send someone to find me.”
Merlin slammed the door behind him, leaving Arthur alone again. For a few moments, Arthur stared after him, breathing hard. Then he turned and sat down heavily on the bed, leaning forwards until he could rest his elbows on his knees. He was exhausted. He had barely slept the night before, and the couple of hours he had snatched had been spent tossing and turning. He woke several times with his father’s voice ringing in his ears and his chest and throat tightened by grief.
He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes with his palms and forcing back the tears that threatened to spill between his closed lids.
.