FIC: Fealty (11/?) - Merlin/Arthur, PG-13
TITLE: Fealty - part eleven
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, Drama
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
SPOILERS: Up to 1x04
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 1,375
SUMMARY: A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land - Martin Luther
DISCLAIMER: I own not the boys, nor the show. Thankfully, they’re doing just fine.
NOTES: I made the fatal mistake of telling openskies that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!
Previous parts here.
A little earlier than expected! I believe there are only one or two parts left to go...
From the shadows, he watched.
The sorcerer hung limp in his chains, physically and mentally exhausted. They had questioned him and they had gained nothing - he claimed natural magic, an inherent degenerate character that explained so much. If he had practiced the dark art since birth, he would certainly possess the power to bewitch Arthur.
He watched Arthur's approach, barely upright between two guards - his heart filled with anger and fear and guilt, but he did not go to him. The young prince's face twisted in horror and he broke free of the guards, stumbling forward towards the warlock.
"Merlin?" he whispered. "I'm here."
There was pain in Arthur's voice, thick with unshed tears, and he struggled to suppress his fury. How had this thing corrupted his son so completely?
Though he was frail and swaying, Arthur wrapped his arms around the sorcerer's waist and lifted him, relieving the weight on his shoulders. The boy moaned then, and his dark eyes opened.
"Arthur," he said, "what are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you, idiot," Arthur replied, weary and breathless but determined to hold him.
"Leave me, Arthur."
"I won't," he said, and his voice was iron and he stood firm, even as his weakened body threatened to collapse.
Uther could not watch anymore. He signalled to the guards and left the dungeons.
~
"I want to thank you."
"Save it. I didn't do it for him."
Gaius, though uninvited, took his customary seat and Uther pretended it wasn't a great liberty. He wanted to hear what he had to say, even though he would not ask.
"He hasn't cast a spell on him, you know. You can always tell. The enchanted lover walks as if in a dream, fawns on the caster, and is in all acts unusual. That cannot be said of Arthur."
He didn't want to believe that. Because the alternative…
"You cannot be sure," he said, and cursed the treacherous quaver of doubt in his voice.
"It is not I that needs to be, sire."
Only a few days ago he had been certain. Yet they had chained up the warlock with those cursed shackles and still Arthur had persisted in his delusions - perhaps, though, the spell only needed to be cast once.
A small voice within him said he was making excuses, that he knew the truth and only needed to open his eyes. Always, her voice would haunt him.
Love alone was a terrible curse.
~
It was not becoming of a king to lurk in shadows. And yet this he had to see for himself.
"I'm fine, Arthur. Stop fussing."
His son was gaunt and feeble, yet he was straightening the covers of his royal bed over the warlock. The boy sighed. "Arthur, if you don't lie down, I will tell Gaius."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine." He picked up a bowl of soup and crawled over the bed, slipping under the covers and slowly sipping his meal. The sorcerer watched him.
"You shouldn't have done that, you know."
"What - saved you life?" Arthur shrugged. "It's becoming a habit."
"Arthur, look at me."
A gauze-bound hand touched Arthur's cheek and Uther held his breath. He would see the spell being cast, he would have proof-
Arthur pushed him away.
"I'm not going to apologise for you being alive!"
"You sacrificed too much, Arthur!"
"My life wouldn't have been enough! Damn it, Merlin, can't you see that?"
He saw, and he knew.
The boy's hand fell away, as if bitten. There was shock in his eyes, and fear. But his words were angry, his bruised face contorting in rage.
"Don't you dare, Arthur. My life will never be worth yours - promise me you won't do it again."
Arthur was always haughty and proud. Like his father. "I can't promise that."
Merlin surprised them both by sitting up and grabbing Arthur's hands between his gauze mittens; the bowl fell to the floor and smashed. "You have to! It's your destiny!"
Arthur looked alarmed. "Merlin, you're not well. You need to rest."
"Promise me!" he said, coughing now, bright red blood spattered on the blankets.
Uther had never seen his son look so terrified. But he had seen that expression before - twenty-five years ago. From the mirror.
"Gaius! GAIUS!"
The old man came running, producing tinctures and water and reassurance. "He'll be fine, Arthur. He has reopened a wound in his mouth - it's nothing serious, I promise you." Arthur flinched, and only they three knew why.
They settled Merlin back to bed and Gaius gave Arthur another bowl of soup; the prince made a face but drank it anyway. Then, he curled himself around Merlin with care and rested his head on Merlin's shoulder.
"Am I forgiven then?" he whispered. Merlin sighed.
"You know you are."
"Good."
He waited until they fell asleep and then returned to his chambers.
~
"You wanted to speak with me?"
Uther gestured for her to take a seat and poured her some mead. She was prepared for a fight but he was strangely genial today.
"Tell me what you know about…Arthur and Merlin."
She laughed - it was a spiteful sound with no mirth. "You already see what you want to see. What difference will my words make?"
"Perhaps…I am willing to be persuaded."
Morgana regarded him carefully. "Have you spoken to Arthur?"
"He will not see me."
"I'm hardly surprised. You tried to kill his…servant."
Uther sighed impatiently. "Do not play games, Morgana. We both know the boy is…more than that."
She gestured expansively. "Then why ask for my counsel at all?"
He closed his eyes, gripping the goblet tightly. "I am willing to be wrong."
"Arthur loves him. A real and deep love, with no…magic or malice. And Merlin loves him too. You cannot change destiny."
He looked at her, eyes pleading for her, at least, to understand. "And I cannot change the law."
Morgana's smile faded. "That is your choice. Yet I would not cast aside so lightly the man protecting your son. One day, you will be gone and Merlin will be all that stands between him and Death. Do you really want him to face the world alone?"
"It is what every king must bear."
"That was your fate. Would you really wish that on him?"
"Camelot needs an heir." He was clinging to excuses and he knew it. One couldn't hide from the truth.
"And she will have one. Arthur isn't an idiot, despite appearances. He knows his duty, and he knows his heart. You have to trust him."
Uther sighed. "When did you become so wise?"
Morgana gently laid a hand over his. "I had a good teacher."
~
When he summoned them to court, he wasn't sure what to expect. Yet they both appeared, Arthur dressed as a nobleman (though his clothes hung oddly from his too-thin frame) and Merlin as a servant, supported by two wooden crutches. They were ill at ease, Arthur standing protectively in front of Merlin even as a glint of gold lingered in the boy's eyes.
"I hereby relieve you from your banishment." Arthur turned to Merlin in shock, and the boy's face was split by a grin. "However, sorcery remains forbidden in Camelot - I must have your solemn oath that you will not use any magic and, to protect my citizens, I must require you to wear these."
The bracelets were presented on a cushion, the woven metal fashioned from the bewitched shackles of the dungeons. Arthur was angry but Merlin had placed a hand on his arm.
"I swear it, your highness, and I accept the…restraints."
One of the guards moved to fasten them but Arthur knocked away his hand. "I'll do it."
"Arthur, you-"
"Be quiet, Merlin."
Slowly, he weighed the bracelet in his hand before releasing the catch and slipping the metal over his wrist. It locked into place smartly and Arthur looked faintly sick, but he picked up its twin and fitted it in the same way.
Merlin lowered his hands back to the crutches, face impassive. Uther met his eyes and saw only…pity. He shivered.
"Then…return to your business," he said quickly, pretending not to watch them leave as he wondered if he'd lost his son forever.
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