Mykonos 14/16
| Masterpost| Part Thirteen|
The first thing that Merlin noticed was the sway of the Ocean, the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the silence that the sea induced. It was oddly quiet, even for the sea, as if it was distant, miles away instead of the few meters Merlin knew it to be.
He didn’t open his eyes, savouring the feeling of his bed, not wanting to evacuate the warmth just yet. He was more comfortable than he’d been in weeks, yet there was something wrong, something missing and something that Merlin knew he’d forgotten.
“Merlin?” a voice whispered, warm in his ear. “Are you awake?”
He frowned. Usually his mother would shout up the stairs for him to get up, already too busy with the day’s work. Instead she was mild-mannered, sounding tired and sad for some reason.
Merlin groaned, and felt someone grab his hand, eliciting another groan as, suddenly, it felt as though every inch of his body was covered in tiny bruises. He stiffened, wincing.
“Don’t move sweetie,” Hunith said, and Merlin relaxed a little as she smoothed his brow, wondering what had happened.
He shifted his head on the pillow, moving his shoulders to nestle a little better, with every intention to go back to sleep, when something smoothed across his chest, jarring with the movement. Merlin frowned, shrugging his shoulder up a little to feel the object, snapping his eyes open when he felt the smooth stone of the Obsidian and the warm chain.
The light in the room was dim, but it still hurt Merlin’s eyes. Hunith, pale faced and gaunt, startled a little, trying to calm him down by stroking his arm.
“Settle down,” she said firmly, and Merlin looked at her, slumping back in the cushions as everything rushed back.
“Arthur?” he croaked out, his voice weak from misuse and whatever he’d done to himself through pouring his magic out.
Hunith’s face softened and she leant forwards, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s brow.
“He’s fine,” she said, and Merlin felt relief course through him. “And the little boy too, as well as Gaius and everyone else you saved.”
Merlin closed his eyes, smiling. He’d done it, truly done it.
“Oh Merlin,” Hunith said suddenly, voice wavering as she began to cry. She leant her head on the bed, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
“Mum?” Merlin croaked out, wiggling his fingers to try and get her attention, the small movement all he could manage.
“I’m sorry,” she managed out, sniffing as she brought her head up and wiped at her eyes. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”
Neither did Merlin, but he didn’t admit that to her. When he’d made the choice, Merlin had accepted that he had to give every shred of magic up to make it work. His magic had fought it towards the end, clung to him and tried to join with the Old Magic to pull back into Merlin, but he’d stopped it, knowing that, above all, he had to sever the connection to the people from the Pickings and reinforce the Tower, to provide their freedom and their futures.
“What…” he began, yet the following words caught in his throat, a cough overtaking what Merlin wanted to say.
“I’m not the best person to explain,” Hunith said, understanding his question with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “Arthur said he would be back shortly… he’s barely left your side, except for the moments that he had no other choice.”
Merlin wanted to ask her why Arthur had stayed - guilt, to kill him with his own hands, to demand answers? - but he felt too tired, weakened without his magic. Instead, he just nodded and let his eyes close, slipping back to sleep quietly.
When he next woke up, he was curled on his side, facing the chair beside his bed. The chair itself was empty, and Merlin wondered if his mother had gone to rest herself, when he noticed a shadow on the floor, someone standing by the only window of the room.
As he struggled to push himself up a bit more, wanting to be able to look around the room he was in properly, Merlin caught the attention of the figure and they approached the bed cautiously.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, sinking into the chair and gripping the arms. He was dressed smartly, hair mussed around a band of gold that was the coronet he’d evidently forgotten to take off.
Neither of them said anything, until Merlin shuffled a little, wincing as pain erupted across his entire body. As Merlin grimace, Arthur mved forward in his chair, concern clear on his face and every intention to grasp Merlin’s hand, just how Hunith had earlier.
Merlin flinched back, shaking his head slightly. After everything he’d done, Arthur couldn’t want to comfort him, could he?
“Merlin?” Arthur asked softly, worry clear in his eyes.
“Why? Why did you come back?” Merlin rushed out, not wanting to hear the answer, yet needing to. Arthur seemed to understand what Merlin meant and he sat back in his chair again, a weary expression on his face.
“After you…” he began, trailing off, “I was so angry. I hated you, wanted to show you how much your lies had hurt me.”
Merlin swallowed thickly, guilt rolling inside of him. He should have told Arthur, there had been plenty of times to, and he’d left it until there was no other choice.
“When you stepped inside of the Obsidian circle,” Arthur was saying, eyes closed and breathing steady, “I could feel your magic. My stone wanted me to go down there, wanted to resonate from those it was hewn with, because that’s what its task was.”
Oh. Arthur had come down for the stone. Not for Merlin then, but a stone that had wanted to be connected to his magic.
“No, no Merlin,” Arthur said hurriedly, reading Merlin’s expression clearly. “That’s not it.” He sighed, as if there was a heavy weight on his shoulders, as if there was a whole kingdom waiting for Arthur to claim it.
“You lied to me, but when I felt your magic, I knew that it wasn’t to be malicious. You’re not like Nimueh or my father, you wouldn’t use that against me, and I needed to see you, needed to help you…” he trailed off again, giving a rugged, nervous laugh.
“It’s always been you and me, hasn’t it? In everything we planned, everything we’ve done,” Arthur ran his tongue over his lips, leaning forward as Merlin’s eyes tracked his every move. “I couldn’t leave you. And I don’t think I ever will be able to.”
At the words, Merlin’s heart soared and he moved, not caring about the pain, hands grabbing for any hold on Arthur they could manage. He tried to kiss him desperately, but fumbled and fell slightly, his kiss falling on Arthur’s chin rather than his lips.
It drew a laugh, and Arthur’s boyish cackle rang through the room, making all the pain Merlin was in right now worth it. To see Arthur this happy and know that he wanted them to stay together despite everything they’d been through made Merlin losing his magic worth it.
“After I poured all my magic into the Obsidians, what happened?” Merlin ventured a few moments later, when he was back in his bed and Arthur was playing with his fingers. A dark look crossed his face, but he conceded, obviously knowing that Merlin had to be told.
“Nimueh was furious. She hadn’t considered any other option but forcing you to kill either Mordred or me, and when she realised what you were doing, she tried to stop you.” Arthur shook his head, “Your magic protected you and you started to glow. Everything changed then, the Obsidians began humming properly, and Nimueh was shouting about how she could feel the magic, how painful it was…”
Arthur shook his head again, and Merlin ran a thumb over his knuckles, waiting for him to complete the story in his own time.
“You have so much power,” he said quietly, looking at Merlin in wonder. “It was just pouring from you and into the Obsidians, never stopping. When Nimueh realised that she wouldn’t be able to stop you, she turned to Mordred instead.”
Hunith had said Mordred was fine, but that didn’t stop the spike of panic shooting through Merlin. If, after all of that, Mordred had been killed, how could Merlin had lived with it?
“You were on the ground and I pulled Excalibur from the Obsidian. I killed her. I killed Nimueh, because she was about to kill Mordred and you were on the ground, having done something completely reckless and stupid-“
“Arthur,” Merlin said, cutting him off. Despite everything she’d done to him and his family, Arthur still felt regret over killing Nimueh.
“You had to. Nimueh had been consumed with greed and power lust. You said that she called out in pain when she felt the magical channels?” Arthur nodded, meeting Merlin’s gaze slowly. “Those channels shouldn’t hurt. They contain the Old Magic, pure magic, and if she couldn’t feel the hope and happiness within them, then there was nothing we could do to save her.”
Bowing his head, Arthur sniffed heavily. He hadn’t shed a tear, but it was still hard work for him, having the blood of someone he’d once cared about forever on his hands. Merlin couldn’t blame him for that, but he could reach out and tell him that it was okay.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked softly, listening to the gulls as they called from places afar, swaying to the sea currents.
“About two days,” Arthur replied. “We were worried sick, but Gaius said that you would be okay.”
Merlin smiled, already knowing that Gaius and Mordred were okay. He was glad the physician was up and about, typical to his fashion and lifestyle, and was counting down the moments until he could visit them.
The roar of the sea floated into the room, and Merlin frowned, looking at Arthur. He hadn’t registered it as an oddity before, but never had the Ocean been heard in Camelot before.
Arthur grinned. “You reinforced the entire Tower. As you wished, we’re connected to the very earth itself, I had sorcerers confirm it. The Ocean can rage all it wants, but we’re staying here. I thought it was about time that the real sky was seen, and with you reinforcing the structure, Camelot’s top has opened up, much like a flower.”
Merlin smiled, knowing that the whole Tower had shaken with his magic. The crowded structure that had blocked Camelot in had been opened in the way the original Magicians had intended, in the way the Tower was supposed to be, open to the Ocean as its past, a memory of those they’d lost and loved, never forgotten.
“My father’s furious, of course. He’s been holding council sessions the past few days, trying to understand it all.” Arthur sighed, suddenly looking more tired and older. “I can’t really explain it to him so…”
“Yes,” Merlin replied at once. “Arthur, you don’t need to ask. As soon as I can, I’ll explain it to him, to all of them. We’ll show them,” he added and Arthur smiled.
“The people from the Pickings are still down there, many of them needing medical treatment which I managed to arrange. None of them are strapped up anymore, and a lot have been reunited.” Arthur gave Merlin a wry smile, “Apparently your name holds more stock that we thought, and once they found out that Emrys had done everything the sorcerers were more than willing to help. They’d even stand against Uther if I wished it, that’s how in awe of your power they are.”
Merlin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Arthur was standing, not looking at him fully.
“I have to go,” he announced, full of regret. “There’s so much to do, organising new buildings and everything. The sorcerers have started building, many of them noting that their magic has improved since you merged the channels properly,” Arthur smiled at Merlin, pride and admiration shining in his eyes. “Building work is going well and we’ll hopefully be able to start moving people in soon.”
Magic really was a wonderful thing, Merlin realised. If the sorcerers had already begun developing the outer reaches of Camelot, it meant that they could finally feel the magic that Merlin had always been aware of. They were following Arthur through his influence, but there was something terrible Merlin couldn’t tell Arthur, not yet at least.
As Arthur left, Merlin closed his eyes, digging desperately for his magic. Any shred of it, any hint or sign, yet there was none. Merlin opened his eyes , trying to relax as the waves crashing against each other floated upwards, but he couldn’t, not when he could ruin everything.
The sorcerers followed him because he was Emrys, a man with power enough to stop the seas and command the Old Magic itself. When they found out that he was just a man, barely out of adolescence, they would be at odds with him - for they had all trained for years to be admitted into the Magicians - and when they found out that he’d lost his power? Without Merlin to guide them, who would they bow to?
No one. They would fight amongst themselves until another Nimueh arose, and Camelot would fall back into turmoil, hidden from the people and just when it had been about to change.
Perhaps Gaius would be able to help Merlin, but could he go to Gaius and burden him more, just when he was recovering? Gaius would never say anything about being burdened, but Merlin couldn’t do it, not yet anyway.
There was someone else. Someone who would understand it better, and Merlin knew he had to go see Kilgharrah. Only the Great Dragon would be able to help him, perhaps unblock his magic (if it was blocked like before) and everything would be alright again.
It took Merlin a few more hours before he could slip out of his room, with Hunith and Gaius coming to sit with him for a while, just before night set in and they retreated to their own rooms. He waited an hour or two to make sure no one else would interrupt before he clambered out of bed, grateful for the strong painkillers Gaius had shoved at him earlier. He still ached, yes, but it was manageable.
Merlin discovered that he was in the palace itself, and remembered how Arthur had mentioned that the Obsidian Circle lead down the heart of the Tower. By all means, he should be able to get to the dragon from here too.
Excalibur wasn’t mounted on the wall anymore, and Merlin spared a brief thought for the sword, wondering whether Arthur had shown it proudly to the Court yet or whether he was waiting for Merlin to be by his side.
The Circle was silent, save for the low hum of magic that vibrated over Merlin, welcoming him as if they were kin. It was strange to think that about the stones, but they were older than any living creature, save for the dragon himself, and Merlin knew that they were alive in a sense.
He didn’t dare touch the stones, unsure whether his magic would try to pull back and into him from the Obsidians. Instead, Merlin kept walking, past the Circle to a row of steps, leading down and away, eventually to deposit at a pristine doorway, Merlin discovered.
He exited onto the level of the Pickings through a nondescript door that only gave acess outward. It was easy then to move into the shuttle (Merlin didn’t have too long anymore, and he was used to transportation by now) and let it carry him down as far as possible.
Even with all the shortcuts, it was hours before Merlin stepped onto level ground, looking around himself as he tried to find the dragon. The area was cold, Kilgharrah perhaps not needing to belch his magic out in his fire any longer, and Merlin felt suddenly scared.
He’d been scared before, of course, but it had been a long time since Merlin hadn’t felt the comforting weight of his magic inside of him as a reassuring presence.
There was a sudden rush of air, and Merlin shielded his eyes, taking a step back. When he opened them again, letting his arm fall down, Kilgharrah was there, eyes bright, and inclined his head.
“Young warlock,” he said simply, “I was not expecting you this soon.”
Merlin frowned, shaking his head. “I need your help.”
The dragon took on an astonished look, curling up on himself and stretching out his forelegs. A chain still bound him, but it wouldn’t be there for much longer.
“I cannot think why,” Kilgharrah said, a puff of warm air escaping his maw. “You chose to sacrifice yourself instead of others and so have begun your destiny. Together with the Prince you will unite the lands and its people.”
The dragon looked smug, pleased with himself and the course of action Merlin had taken.
“It’s about my magic,” Merlin said, and the smile slipped from Kilgharrah’s lips as he tilted his head in question. “It’s gone.”
A terrible, harsh sound filled the cavern around them, bouncing off of the walls and spiralling upwards. It was so loud that Merlin was certain the entire City above would be able to hear him, but it didn’t make Kilgharrah lessen his laughter.
“Merlin,” he said kindly, once he’d calmed enough. “Your magic will never be gone. Even if it drains from every human, every animal and every stone, it will never drain from you.”
The dragon arched his neck until his head was close to Merlin’s, eyes huge yet warm, looking down on Merlin as kin.
“Have you tried any spells?” he asked.
“I can’t feel my magic,” Merlin burst out, disbelief on his face. “I can’t use spells without my magic.”
“You can’t feel it because you’re not listening to it.” Kilgharrah’s voice was suddenly sharp, as if reprimanding a child. “Did you think that pouring your life-magic into the earth would be without consequence?”
Merlin didn’t reply, yet shook his head dumbly.
“When you gave every inch of your magic, every single thread you possessed, in your sacrifice, the Old Religion made a deal. You gave up everything for Camelot and Arthur destroyed Nimueh.” Kilgharrah shifted, thick chain clinking across the stones on the ground.
“The Old Religion is clear in balance, you know that already. The Old Magic demands a life for a life, a sacrifice for a sacrifice.” He paused, curling his lips back into a smile. “It gave you your life and its magic to you. Your magic is in everything around you, and the magic of the earth is within you.”
It took a moment for Merlin to fully understand the words, and when they sunk in, he let out a breathy sigh, moving to sit on the ground.
The reason he couldn’t feel his magic within his chest was because there wasn’t such a thing as just his magic. When he’d forced it into the stones, his magic had joined with the Old Magic, fusing inseparably. In turn, when the balance had to be restored, Merlin was filled with the joined magic. In short, he was the earth and the earth was he.
“That is why you need to learn to listen. The druids taught you well enough for you to learn this skill, but you will still be able to use it before then.” Kilgharrah shifted again, pushing up to a standing position and opening his wings.
“I’ll be back,” Merlin promised softly, looking to the chain. Kilgharrah bowed his head again before he vanished, throwing his neck and shoulders backwards and falling into the darkness with a rush of air.
Merlin remained down in the darkness for a while, eventually conjuring a small, blue orb for light. As soon as he felt the rush of power, Merlin could feel the entire City, all the people and the places. It was almost too much, and then the rush of Ocean-magic came over him and he calmed, understanding that he would need further training from Aglain before he’d ever be fully comfortable with his powers once again.
Slowly, letting his ball of light guide him, Merlin made his way back upwards, the journey longer than the one he’d had down here. He stopped every now and then to look around, take in parts of Camelot he’d never been able to before, before continuing on. He felt the pain receding now, an evident side effect (though a pleasant one) from using his magic.
It was as he’d known all along; magic wanted to be used. It wanted to heal him and so Merlin let it, taking small steps out and through the Pickings levels, moving back to his room as sunrise dawned over Camelot.
“Where have you been?” was all Merlin heard before he was engulfed in an embrace, Arthur’s hair brushing against his cheek as the other man buried his head against Merlin’s neck.
“I was so worried Merlin,” he rushed out, pulling Merlin tighter and closer, so much so that it began to hurt, and Merlin had to disentangle himself.
“I’m okay,” he said, smiling and shaking his head at the worry on Arthur’s face. “See, look?” He brought Arthur’s hands up to his face, letting him feel every inch of his skin, reassuring and comforting.
“I needed to talk to the dragon, the real one down in the base of the Tower.” Arthur pulled back slightly, his touch questioning.
“I thought I’d lost my magic,” Merlin said, allowing himself to be pulled over to the bed, resting against Arthur’s shoulder. No matter how much he had healed with the magic, he was still weary and resting against Arthur was a more than welcome prospect.
“Instead my magic is greater, in everything around us.” He closed his eyes, letting Arthur slip a hand around his waist, thumbing against his side reassuringly. “I can still use it, but it’s both terrifying and beautiful, even more than it was before.”
He let out a slight snort at that, turning to look at Arthur in the growing light. The purple, orange and brightening light casting their colours against Arthur’s face, free of faux-sky that had covered Camelot before.
Arthur’s eyes were lidded as Merlin fitted their mouths together, the kiss tender and ghosting. Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin’s waist, pulling him closer, and the kiss changed, deepening into something more, something promising and new. They’d done this before, but before they’d been desperate, needing the closeness and the touch rather than savouring it.
This time, with the sun rising on a new day, casting Camelot in gold and orange as the seas outside calmed slightly, satisfied with the offering Merlin had given them, the kisses were gentle and even more meaningful. They shed their clothes slowly, savouring the flesh and moments of touch without rushing or pushing for more.
Together, they moved back onto the bed, Merlin crouched over Arthur this time, bare for the world to see, yet Arthur’s alone. They kissed again, needy and wanton, and Merlin darted his tongue against Arthur’s jaw, smiling as Arthur whispered nonsense promises and pledges into the shell of his ear, a hand clutching the hair at the back of Merlin’s head, daring him to stop.
Stopping was the last thought on Merlin’s mind, however, and he moved down, forcing Arthur to release his grip. While reluctant, Arthur moved his hand, watching with darkened eyes as Merlin took the time to kiss against his collarbone, over the pounding heartbeat and feather-light over ribs. Merlin had a destination, but he made no dart for the prize, instead savouring the moment with his lips and his tongue, making just as many nonsensical promises as Arthur with his teeth and his kisses.
A line of curled hairs brushed over Merlin’s chin, and he risked a glance back up to Arthur, moving further downwards until heated flesh pressed against Merlin’s cheek, and he turned his attention to Arthur’s erect cock.
They hadn’t had time to do this before, and for Merlin this was new territory. He ran a thumb over the base of Arthur’s cock, along the vein with a finger, before stroking back down and listening to Arthur’s hitch of breath before circling his balls, looking all the while for his reactions.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked softly, voice almost alien in the silence of the morning. Arthur tilted his head up, reading what Merlin wanted even through the haze of pleasure, and he nodded, throwing his head back against the pillows, exposing his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly in anticipation.
Merlin looked down to the cock in his hand, still stroking it, learning what would push Arthur to the limit and what have him curled in delight, eyes screwed shut and Merlin’s name against his lips.
As he moved forward, Merlin exhaled, sending a wave of air carding across the head of Arthur’s cock, sending a judder throughout the length. Arthur’s hip twitched, seeking more contact, and Merlin obliged, wrapping his lips around the tip.
Arthur reacted with a heady breath, shifting his weight so that he could watch Merlin slip his cock in and out, lips tightening and tongue circling. With each stroke of his tongue, Merlin grew in confidence, taking the smallest amount more in his mouth, until he was full with Arthur’s length, warm cock pressing against his mouth. Arthur jerked and moaned with every movement Merlin gave, and he knew that everything had been worth it, all of their hardships and issues, just to accumulate in this one moment.
Arthur’s hands sought out Merlin, warning him, and Merlin pulled back wetly, saliva trailing down his chin. Arthur lapped the trails up, kissing Merlin again and reaching his hand down, smoothing over Merlin’s abandoned erection and trapping it against his belly.
“You have no idea,” Arthur whispered into their kiss, “no idea how scared you’ve had me.”
Merlin wanted to say that he did know, because he had. When Arthur had left him…
“Promise me,” Arthur said, between dirty kisses. “Promise me-“ he couldn’t say what he wanted, and Merlin understood why. He kissed back with fervour, understanding what Arthur wanted and knowing why he’d never ask it of him.
They didn’t need to pledge themselves to each other any longer, technically now that the people were free. If this had been anything less than they were right now, then perhaps they could have maintained a respectable distance, friends yet nothing more.
But Merlin needed Arthur. No matter what, he needed him. A future without Arthur by his side was unimaginable, and while Arthur would never force him to answer, Merlin wanted him to know that the question was a given.
“I promise,” Merlin replied, shifting his hips so that Arthur could open his hand and rub their cocks together, sticky and perfect.
Arthur came first, thrusting up against Merlin and into his hand, his faced flushing as he came and forehead against Merlin’s shoulder. He wasn’t done though, and he kept his hand there until Merlin was done, mouthing against his neck with warm breath, kissing him tenderly on the lips as he came.
As the sun hit the sky fully, Merlin lay curled together with Arthur, under the covers and pressed against each other. They didn’t talk, but the entwined legs and hands spoke volumes. The morning grew brighter as the day began, but they slipped into a peaceful sleep, pressed up against each other in a bed made for one, ignoring the world for a few hours.
.
Arthur was still there when he woke, and Merlin couldn’t stop the goofy smile that slipped over his features. He was still asleep, breathing softly and entire body relaxed, but when Merlin shifted onto his side to watch him better, Arthur stirred, opening an eye slightly.
“What time is it?” he asked huskily, more asleep than awake.
“No idea,” Merlin replied with a smile, running a hand across Arthur’s stomach and over his chest before kissing him, wincing at the bite sleep had given their breath.
“Mm,” Arthur agreed, sitting up and stretching. “Plenty of time for that later, but my father is making a public announcement today in the Square. It’ll be televised, so we’ll be able to watch it with the others.
That was how Merlin found himself in a large room, people close to him all around. Gaius and Hunith sat either side of him on a long sofa, hot drinks in hand as they looked at the television expectantly.
Mordred was also there, with a kind-faced man who had to be the boy’s father. Merlin had been introduced to them when he’d arrived, the father taking Merlin’s hand in earnest and thanking him profusely for all he’d done. He was the first who had done as such (Gaius and Hunith had thanked him in a different way, as people who loved him) and had been bright eyed when he’d mentioned so many others waiting to thank him.
The refugees were still out in the cold and those from the Pickings were still down near the cubicles, unhooked and free to roam, some reported to even be getting on well with their guards. That was all well and good for now, while they were reuniting and recovering, but they all must be looking to the future now, a future that Uther was about to announce for the whole of Camelot to hear.
The screen switched from the stock listings it had been reading, clearing to show the stern face of the King and his closest behind him. Arthur was there, at his father’s side, in full Camelot glory, chainmail and red cape, a connection to the world that the family line had been born from, according to Arthur, as the chainmail was a forgotten relic of the Old World, or at least Merlin had thought it was.
Merlin squinted, looking at the long sword at Arthur’s hip. He shifted his weight and Merlin smiled, recognising the golden panelling on the blade, naming Excalibur with ease.
Morgana was at the King’s other side, face carefully arranged to look blank and devoid of emotion, yet Merlin could see the fury in her eyes. The expression unsettled him, for Arthur had left only an hour or so ago and so would likely have missed any speculation on Uther’s announcement, whereas Morgana herself?
“I am speaking to you all today in light of recent events,” Uther began, stepping away from his family and onto a podium, complete with microphone so that his voice would be clear for all listening. He was a man used to getting what he wanted and this would be no exception.
“The entire city was shut down a few days ago,” he said, eyes darting over the crowd. “The problem has been sorted so I urge you not to worry. I think of myself as an understanding man and a fair ruler, so it is with a grave heart that I tell you the truth behind the events.”
Uther paused again and the camera zoomed in. Everyone in the room seemed to be leaning forwards, eyes fixed on the screen as Uther’s mouth opened and he began to speak once more.
“Nimueh, head of our Magicians and the strongest sorceress the world has seen for decades, is dead.” Even through the television Merlin could see the ripples of outrage and disbelief flooding through the gathered crowd.
“She was responsible for the Network shutting down, spreading fear and panic across our peaceful City.” Merlin’s eyes widened and comprehension dawned. Uther wouldn’t sink so low, would he?
“We trusted Nimueh,” he said, voice firm and carrying loud. “We all trusted her for what was best for this City, and instead I have discovered she was keeping people at our gates, leaving people in need down below to die and expecting us not to care about them.”
Merlin heard someone say ‘no’ in disbelief, but he couldn’t tell who had said it, anger curling in his own stomach. So that was why Morgana had been so furious. Uther was lying to the entire City, covering his tracks and blaming it all on Nimueh because she was dead.
“We have ordered building work to start all over Camelot so that these poor people can be at last given relief and shelter. Camelot will open its gates once again, and we will protect our people.” At Uther’s words, the camera panned out, and Merlin’s eyes saw the anger in Arthur’s stance instantly. One hand was at Excalibur’s hilt, eyes locked on his father’s back.
Morgana moved slightly, hissing something into his ear as Uther went on about what Nimueh had done, the terrible things she had hidden from them all, and Arthur relaxed slightly, shifting his weight backwards yet never taking his hand from his sword.
Not that Merlin could blame him for it; Uther deserved to pay for what he was doing.
The announcement tapered down after that, Uther still lying through his teeth and both Morgana and Arthur looking as if they were ready to kill the king where he stood. They didn’t, thankfully, and Uther stepped down after thanking his people for their compassion for opening their doors, looking to Arthur and nodding for him to follow as he returned to the palace.
Someone turned the television off and silence filled the room, choking Merlin until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the magic roll off of him in his anger, yet he wasn’t aware of what it would do until it hit a plant on the window ledge, the flower sprouting to bloom instantly and more buds appearing, until the long stem carried six large flower heads, bright and beautiful.
A hand on his shoulder brought Merlin back, and Gaius looked at him grimly.
“Uther needs to know the truth of what you did,” he said, drawing nods from the others in the room. “I don’t doubt Arthur already explained it to him the best he could, but it needs to be backed with power. Preferably I’d say you need to gather the Magicians as they’re loyal to you now, but you don’t have that sort of time.”
Gaius was moving towards the door, dragging Merlin with him.
“They’ll be back soon and we need to get down to the council rooms before Arthur ends up doing something he’ll regret,” Gaius said, and Merlin didn’t bother to disagree, nodding to the others before stalking alongside Gaius, keeping up with his former mentor as they moved through the castle and towards Uther.
They arrived at the council room -as Gaius had called it - before Uther had returned. The guards that had been stationed at the door were older than Merlin had expected, but it was in their favour as they recognised Gaius, opening the doors wide-eyed.
“Take a seat,” Gaius said to Merlin, gesturing to one of the long benches in the centre of the room, designed for holding council sessions with many people.
They didn’t have to wait long, for Arthur marched into the room, followed by his father. Gaius rose slowly, every day of his age showing on his face, and Merlin followed suit, a little hesitant. The anger on Arthur’s face softened as he caught Merlin’s eye, but then Uther spoke and the fury was back.
“Gaius,” the king breathed out, stepping forwards as if to embrace an old friend and then thinking better of it, clearly remembering the past and what he had done to lose a friendship.
“Uther,” Gaius replied, not bothering this time with titles. “I’m sure you understand why Arthur is here, but it might interest you to know that Merlin and myself are here for the same reason.”
Uther barely reacted, flicking a glance over Merlin disdainfully and looking to Arthur.
“This is the boy you claimed was helping you to reach a solution on the power shortages,” Uther said, and Merlin raised an eyebrow, amused that the king had remembered him from the garden.
Arthur didn’t get a chance to reply, for Uther was speaking again.
“I’m not sure what you expect me to do for you,” he said, frowning. “It is regretful that you were exiled, Gaius, and now Nimueh has been defeated perhaps you could-“
“Merlin is Balinor Emrys’ son. He comes from the Island of Ealdor, miles across the Ocean. He and his mother were the only survivors that we know of who made the journey, and that was thanks in large to the elemental nature in Merlin’s magic.” Gaius’ voice was blunt, eyes fixed solely on the king.
“Elemental nature?” Uther commented, looking at Merlin again, a considering look on his face, as if he was judging Merlin’s worth. “And a powerful Dragonlord?”
The words drew a ripple of disgust through Merlin as he realised that, for Uther, nothing had changed. He was unwilling to accept the truth, instead blaming it on the dead, and even now didn’t believe that there was an alternative to the problem than sucking the magic out of innocents.
“He is the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen, and he is the reason Camelot is flourishing after the power block,” Gaius said firmly, and Arthur stepped forwards, cloak sweeping the floor.
“Merlin helped me to free the people you had enslaved,” he began. “Merlin is the reason these people don’t need to be tortured any longer and can live their lives. Merlin is the reason that our future now exists, as well as thoughts to expand.” Arthur gritted his jaw before the next sentence, taking a deep breath and flaring his nostrils.
“Merlin is the reason I know the truth about what you did to my mother and he is the only one who told me that my own father has been lying to me my entire life.” Arthur spat out the words and then tilted his head back, waiting for what Uther would say in his defence.
“I did what I had to for this City,” he began, but Merlin couldn’t stand the excuses any more.
“You have cause so much suffering for so many people,” he said, voice low. He could feel the magic around him responding, wanting to creep towards Uther and show him exactly how powerful he was, but he restrained it.
“I understand that it was difficult, but do you know how many people you caused to suffer? I have lived in the refugee camps, I have been enslaved, and I would rather die than be forced into a life of that.” Merlin took in a deep breath before continuing. “You didn’t even bother to look for other ways, instead enslaving thousands of people and chaining a dragon and ripping his magic from him too.”
Merlin shook his head, lip curling in disgust. “You don’t even care about the people you loved, casting them aside when they learnt the truth and wanted to change it for the good. You lie to your own people about Nimueh and then act as if you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Gaius clasped his shoulder again and Merlin stilled, swallowing thickly and nodding. He’d said what he needed to and Gaius had brought him back before he’d done something he’d regret.
“I did what I needed to for my kingdom,” Uther said, eyes cold. “And until you understand what sacrifices mean, you are nothing but a peasant and a fool.”
With a single, withering look at his son, Uther walked from the room, ignoring Arthur’s call for him to stay. The king was done with the subject and that was that, no matter that he was lying to millions of people.
“We tried,” Gaius said, defeated. “We tried to make him see sense, but I fear that it is far too late. Uther cares little for anyone anymore, only that he is right.”
Arthur made a noise of agreement, a sad little noise only a child could make when learning of the humanity of its father.
“I always thought he was more,” Arthur said, and Merlin moved to his side instantly, hating the sadness Uther had caused.
“I hate to defend him, but he didn’t know what to do. Now that the truth is out, he can’t do anything but stick to his pride, as all powerful men do when they’re alone.” Arthur calmed a little at his words, but when he looked at Merlin there was an odd expression on his face.
“He won’t listen to me or Morgana, and even Gaius wasn’t a shock enough,” Arthur said, sending a small smile Gaius’ way. “I need…” Arthur trailed off. “I want…”
Merlin looked at him, concerned, not understanding. Gaius, on the other hand, nodded and looked warmly at Merlin.
“I need to collect my things as well as tell Aglain to prepare everyone to move. Some of the druids may prefer to remain in the Wasteland, of course,” Merlin thought of Alvarr, “but the majority will rejoice that they can finally enter Camelot.”
Now Merlin understood what Arthur had been asking, and the one person who would be able to change Uther’s stance. If Ygraine couldn’t do it, then there was no hope left to change Uther’s mind, and the crown would have to be won in bloodshed.
They didn’t set off for the Wastelands right away, instead returning to their wing of the palace, Arthur and Hunith meeting for the first time under Merlin’s eye. They had met before, often in fact, but Merlin had never seen their interactions.
Arthur was charming, yet Merlin could see the slight insecurities under his façade, the slightly cautious way he acted around Hunith, as if she was a delicate woman. It might have been to do with the fact that she was a mother, but most likely more to do with the fact she was Merlin’s mother.
They had dinner together, Mordred and his father joining their little family officially, and the meal was full of laughter and smiles, even though Merlin knew a whirlpool of nerves had to be churning in the pit of Arthur’s stomach at the prospect of meeting his mother.
Underneath the table, Merlin held onto Arthur’s hand tightly, and Arthur gripped back with a little, secretive smile. When Merlin looked across the table, he caught his mother’s proud gaze, and she looked away a moment later, dabbing at the corner of her eyes in an undoubtedly soppy manner that Merlin hoped Arthur had overlooked.
“We could wait until tomorrow,” Gaius said, looking at the setting sun and then at the ball of nerves Arthur had been reduced to. “Except I fear that it wouldn’t do you much good.”
Gaius looked over at Mordred, “We can collect your possessions too?”
An answering nod was all he got, and Merlin couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go back down to Alvarr and leave his father.
They set off almost immediately, after a short period of time that Gaius took to gather a few bags, for the items he wanted extra care taken with. During that time, Arthur had drawn Merlin aside, panicked look on his face as he’d demanded to know if his clothes were okay and his hair perfect. Merlin had laughed the questions off and kissed Arthur, calling him perfect, and Arthur had calmed a little.
“She loves you,” Merlin said as they left the room, heading down to the Obsidian Circle. “She always has and always will, even if you get on my nerves and I turn you into some kind of Old World toad or something.”
That, thankfully, had drawn a chuckle from Arthur, and they’d walked down to the Picking levels a little calmer, following Gaius as he led them to a secretive door, opening it and nodding to himself as a shuttle was revealed.
“This will take us down to the lock,” he said, “though the occasions for me using it this time are much happier than the last two times.”
Merlin smiled, glad for the fact that they could talk about their experiences. He still felt guilty for what he had put Gaius through, but the old man had been firm in telling Merlin that it had had to happen or else Merlin would have arrived in Camelot too late. Their timing had been perfect, and Gaius didn’t want to hear a word of Merlin’s apologies.
The shuttle was slow-moving, chugging down its chute, unaware to its passengers’ growing trepidation. Even when they hit the ground level they had to walk for hours, all the while Arthur’s anxiety growing.
Still, they reached the bottom soon, stepping out and Merlin and Gaius readjusting to the gloom of the Wastelands. Merlin smiled as he caught site of the knobbly trees scattered across his vision, sharing a look with Gaius.
While Camelot was their home, the Wastelands with its trees and bogs would always hold a place in their hearts. Even in this vile land, life had grown and flourished. Perhaps not as pretty as the flowers in the royal gardens, but beautiful in their own right.
As they walked, Merlin told Arthur stories of his time here, about the trees and their healing sap, about the Urchin children - even spotting a few in the distance. Arthur absorbed the information with interest, walking through unfamiliar ground as if he’d grown up on the land, and Merlin would be lying if he said he didn’t envy the natural skill of bog-walking Arthur seemed to possess.
“Some of us are born princes,” Arthur drawled jokingly. “We’re born perfect, I’m sorry you weren’t.”
That earned him an elbow in the side, and finally Arthur slipped slightly, down onto his knees and splaying a hand out in a puddle, wincing as his hand came back up coated in mud.
Merlin laughed, running forwards as Arthur made to wipe his hand on him, skidding on patches of mud as Gaius looked on with a faux stern attitude, calling for them to be more careful or else they’d break their necks.
The druid camp had come into view miles back, and Gaius had spent the time explaining the community - and by association Merlin’s role within the druids - to Arthur. Arthur had listened intently, particularly whenever Gaius mentioned Merlin or his own work, as Gaius was linked with his mother.
Someone must have scouted them across the Wasteland for a group of druids were waiting out of the camp. Children had joined them, holding scraps of coloured cloth and waving them with joy in their face, excited yet not quite understanding why.
There was a woman at the front of the group, hair bundled on top of her head and face pale as she scanned their faces. Merlin recognised Ygraine and smiled, not wanting to ruin the surprise just yet, as Arthur hadn’t noticed her.
The closer they got, the more Arthur hung back. Merlin took the lead, with Gaius falling behind him, between him and Arthur. Merlin didn’t wait, knowing that was not what Arthur would want, and so made forward to greet the druids and catch their attention so that Arthur could spend time with Ygraine.
“Merlin!” a voice called, strong and elated, and then Ygraine was pushing forwards, throwing her arms around Merlin and holding him tightly.
“You made it,” she whispered, pushing him back to hold his face and kiss his cheek. “Look at you, you did it!”
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued, “We all felt the spike of magic, but we feared the worst until the scouts said they’d seen you.” She pulled him close again, tucking her head against his neck as Gaius stepped closer to the group.
She didn’t quite pull away as she had before, still with Merlin’s arms wrapped around her, but she moved back slightly, looking at him.
“Did you…” she began, and Merlin fought his smile down. “I mean, did you get to see him? How was he? Unless…” Ygraine frowned, not finishing that terrible sentence.
Instead, Merlin leant down a little, speaking quietly against her ear.
“It’s always better to judge for yourself, so why don’t you ask him instead of me telling you?” With that, Merlin let go of Ygraine and she turned shell-shocked eyes away from Merlin and to Arthur, who was standing a little way back from the group, mud caked up over his shoes and the bottom of his trousers.
“A… Arthur?” she asked, almost to herself.
“He wanted to see you,” Merlin said quietly, nodding towards Arthur. “He’s been painfully nervous,” was all Merlin managed to say before Ygraine was off, walking slowly towards the son she’d lost years ago.
As Ygraine moved over the space between them, she picked up her pace, running by the time Arthur took a sole step forwards and she flung her arms around him, tears falling down her face.
Merlin looked on with a smile, watching as Ygraine rushed out her words and Arthur looked so lost and yet so happy. Just how Merlin had found his mother again, Ygraine had been returned to her son. All the fears that Arthur must have been feeling were peeled away as Ygraine kept holding her son, refusing to let him go more than a bare second without her hand smoothing his face or her pressing a kiss on his brow.
“Emrys,” a warm, deep voice greeted, and Aglain stepped through the druids, arms wide open. “Well done.”
Merlin couldn’t help the smile that came over him, stepping forwards and accepting Aglain’s one-armed hug, letting him draw him away from Arthur and into the druid camp for a more private talk.
“Almost all of us will be joining you in Camelot when we can,” he began, pouring Merlin a cup of water and offering him some food. Dinner had been quite a few hours ago, so Merlin took the cut-up root sections gratefully, chewing on the rough bark and enjoying the tangy taste that filled his mouth.
“Alvarr has refused to join us, and most of his followers have pledged the same,” Aglain continued, mouth downturned in disapproval. “When we felt your magic in the earth, he snapped.”
Merlin looked up in shock, pausing in chewing. “What did he do?” he asked quietly, never having really known Alvarr so not being able to judge what he was capable of.
“He got into a fight and killed someone. It may not sound too terrible a deed, but we are a peaceful group.” Aglain sighed heavily, “As such he was exiled from the camp and took his followers with him. They’re somewhere in the Wastelands, probably over the other side completely, and will no doubt be plotting revenge against you.”
“But I saved him,” Merlin couldn’t help but protest, and Aglain rolled his eyes, nodding.
“Exactly. But he believes that he should have been the one to save us all, using Mordred. Nothing will shake that from his head, and I wanted to warn you to be careful. Leave a man down here thinking he can run this place and he will get ideas. If you leave him here, or even force him up to Camelot, he will stew and try to take you down.” Aglain took one of the roots himself, chewing on it as Merlin was.
“Give a man people and he’ll build himself up as a war leader. I just wanted you to take care of him, be aware that given a smidgeon of a chance, he would see you dead.” With that, Aglain asked if there were any questions Merlin had.
Merlin relayed what Kilgharrah had said about his magic, and how overwhelming it could be. Aglain had listened as his teacher and smiled.
“You won’t need it for long,” he said, “but I am more than willing to offer my tutelage. Meditation is a core factor to control elemental magic, let alone the elements themselves. You are bound to the earth now and it will be perhaps the most important skill you’ll need to learn, but learn it you will, and I have a feeling you’ll do so very quickly.”
Even now, after he’d fulfilled the prophecy and completed his task, the fact that Aglain had such faith in him warmed Merlin, and he thanked the druid leader graciously. He explained that they couldn’t take them back up to Camelot just yet, but it was only a matter of days now, what with building work advancing as sorcerers came into their proper power, recovering from the binding spells that had chained them to Nimueh’s will.
“I shall let everyone know,” Aglain said. “Though I assume Eigyr will be travelling with you now, considering that she is Queen Ygraine?”
Merlin didn’t ask how Aglain knew and simply nodded.
“I fear she is the only one who will be able to push Uther to see the truth. At the very best she’ll convince him to abdicate the throne so that Arthur can take over,” Merlin said, before he realised that Aglain had no idea about Uther, Arthur and Ygraine.
“Do you trust Arthur to be a good king?” he asked instead, watching Merlin closely for his reaction.
“I trust him to be the best,” came Merlin’s reply, and Aglain nodded, smile gracing his lips.
“Then we shall follow him, for he sounds like a good man. That is exactly the kind we need to rule this land, a good man with someone he cares about by his side.” Aglain’s smile widened as Merlin looked up in shock.
“You deserve the happiness,” he said, before wandering off to the back of the tent, pulling something from a box and returning to Merlin.
“Here, this book will be able to guide you until I can enter Camelot,” Aglain said, pressing a small, leather-bound book into Merlin’s hand. He flicked through the pages, looking at the various meditative positions and smiling in thanks. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it would help Merlin ease back into his teachings and grow more comfortable with his magic.
They parted shortly after that, Merlin returning to Gaius’ tent to help his group pack up. Ygraine and Arthur were still huddled together, shooting glances at each other as if letting the other slip from their site would mean they were gone forever. Merlin smiled and walked over to Gaius, helping the man pack up books and plants, frowning as he realised they had no real way of transporting the boxes across the Wasteland.
“Merlin,” Gaius said, pulling back from organising a stack of dried herbs. His tone indicated that Merlin was being particularly slow, but Merlin only frowned.
“My goodness,” Gaius muttered, “I know you’re powerful and everything now, but did it strike you that I’m not just an old codger? Magic is how we’ll get them across the Wasteland. Plenty in me and I doubt you’ll let me do it all by myself.”
Merlin gave a little laugh. “Of course,” he said. “It just seems odd to think that I’ll be able to do that now.”
Gaius shot him a curious look, weighted as if fearing Merlin’s thoughts, but Merlin hastened to add that it was nothing like that.
“I just mean,” he said, “that it will be odd using magic for myself. Before it was juts building up to a bigger destiny, but I’m quite enjoying using magic for other things.”
“Don’t be fooled into thinking your job is done,” Gaius cautioned, filling one of his bags with delicate equipment. “I have no doubt that the Obsidians will call for your help again, especially with all this building going on in Camelot.”
The physician gave a wry grin. “And I doubt you’ll be able to stop yourself, for the magic in you will need a release too, I’m sure.”
They continued packing, Merlin wandering over to his former room and packing up everything in there. Arthur entered shortly after, looking tired yet satisfied, warmth in his eyes as he approached Merlin, pulling him close without a word.
“Thank you,” he whispered against Merlin’s neck.
Merlin cradled his head against him, smiling and pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur’s head.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he began. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before-“
“It’s okay,” Arthur said, pulling back and smiling. ”It doesn’t matter now.”
They moved through the room together, packing everything in silence. It was comfortable with Arthur, as it always had been really, and while he couldn’t specifically feel the thread of magic that was drawn to Arthur, Merlin could feel the hum that it was there. A part of the earth would always love Arthur, and that was something that Merlin felt proud that he’d made happen.
The night passed, but none of the druids slept. As the camp awakened, word spreading that Emrys was here, druids came by Gaius’ tent, seeking to thank Merlin for what he had done and to impart gifts upon him. Most were woven tokens, small scraps of cloth with animals from the Old World or spells woven into them, but a few people offered larger gifts, including, notably, a goat that nipped at his fingers, bleating happily.
The goat reminded him of the one they had in Ealdor, and Merlin had been about to thank the man and take the goat when Gaius had sternly told him that he was to live in the palace for now, and that was no place for a goat. There was too much to do, but when things settled then yes, Merlin could have a goat.
Both Merlin and the man trying to give the goat away looked crestfallen at Gaius’ words, but the goat seemed content to nibble on the corner of Merlin’s jumper, bleating when the man pulled it away.
“But Gaius,” Merlin began again, gesturing at the billy who didn’t want to leave. “He already likes me.”
Arthur snorted from where he was packing up the last of the books, and Merlin turned to glare at him. Gaius took the opportunity to usher the goat from the tent, and the matter was closed.
They were done soon after, and Gaius spoke the spell aloud that would carry the boxes in neat procession behind them. The boxes, true to the spell, lined up with a little quiver, picking themselves up though the contents would have been too heavy for even Arthur to carry.
It seemed like the entire camp this time had come to see them off, and they moved through the druids with smiles and well-wishes bestowed upon them.
They walked in a row, Gaius and Ygraine beside Arthur and Merlin, carefully picking their way through the land, guided by a sliver of light shining in from the side as dawn broke outside. Refugees would be stirring awake by now, unaware that above, their whole lives were about to be changed for the better.
.
|Part Fifteen|
The first thing that Merlin noticed was the sway of the Ocean, the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the silence that the sea induced. It was oddly quiet, even for the sea, as if it was distant, miles away instead of the few meters Merlin knew it to be.
He didn’t open his eyes, savouring the feeling of his bed, not wanting to evacuate the warmth just yet. He was more comfortable than he’d been in weeks, yet there was something wrong, something missing and something that Merlin knew he’d forgotten.
“Merlin?” a voice whispered, warm in his ear. “Are you awake?”
He frowned. Usually his mother would shout up the stairs for him to get up, already too busy with the day’s work. Instead she was mild-mannered, sounding tired and sad for some reason.
Merlin groaned, and felt someone grab his hand, eliciting another groan as, suddenly, it felt as though every inch of his body was covered in tiny bruises. He stiffened, wincing.
“Don’t move sweetie,” Hunith said, and Merlin relaxed a little as she smoothed his brow, wondering what had happened.
He shifted his head on the pillow, moving his shoulders to nestle a little better, with every intention to go back to sleep, when something smoothed across his chest, jarring with the movement. Merlin frowned, shrugging his shoulder up a little to feel the object, snapping his eyes open when he felt the smooth stone of the Obsidian and the warm chain.
The light in the room was dim, but it still hurt Merlin’s eyes. Hunith, pale faced and gaunt, startled a little, trying to calm him down by stroking his arm.
“Settle down,” she said firmly, and Merlin looked at her, slumping back in the cushions as everything rushed back.
“Arthur?” he croaked out, his voice weak from misuse and whatever he’d done to himself through pouring his magic out.
Hunith’s face softened and she leant forwards, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s brow.
“He’s fine,” she said, and Merlin felt relief course through him. “And the little boy too, as well as Gaius and everyone else you saved.”
Merlin closed his eyes, smiling. He’d done it, truly done it.
“Oh Merlin,” Hunith said suddenly, voice wavering as she began to cry. She leant her head on the bed, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
“Mum?” Merlin croaked out, wiggling his fingers to try and get her attention, the small movement all he could manage.
“I’m sorry,” she managed out, sniffing as she brought her head up and wiped at her eyes. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”
Neither did Merlin, but he didn’t admit that to her. When he’d made the choice, Merlin had accepted that he had to give every shred of magic up to make it work. His magic had fought it towards the end, clung to him and tried to join with the Old Magic to pull back into Merlin, but he’d stopped it, knowing that, above all, he had to sever the connection to the people from the Pickings and reinforce the Tower, to provide their freedom and their futures.
“What…” he began, yet the following words caught in his throat, a cough overtaking what Merlin wanted to say.
“I’m not the best person to explain,” Hunith said, understanding his question with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “Arthur said he would be back shortly… he’s barely left your side, except for the moments that he had no other choice.”
Merlin wanted to ask her why Arthur had stayed - guilt, to kill him with his own hands, to demand answers? - but he felt too tired, weakened without his magic. Instead, he just nodded and let his eyes close, slipping back to sleep quietly.
When he next woke up, he was curled on his side, facing the chair beside his bed. The chair itself was empty, and Merlin wondered if his mother had gone to rest herself, when he noticed a shadow on the floor, someone standing by the only window of the room.
As he struggled to push himself up a bit more, wanting to be able to look around the room he was in properly, Merlin caught the attention of the figure and they approached the bed cautiously.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, sinking into the chair and gripping the arms. He was dressed smartly, hair mussed around a band of gold that was the coronet he’d evidently forgotten to take off.
Neither of them said anything, until Merlin shuffled a little, wincing as pain erupted across his entire body. As Merlin grimace, Arthur mved forward in his chair, concern clear on his face and every intention to grasp Merlin’s hand, just how Hunith had earlier.
Merlin flinched back, shaking his head slightly. After everything he’d done, Arthur couldn’t want to comfort him, could he?
“Merlin?” Arthur asked softly, worry clear in his eyes.
“Why? Why did you come back?” Merlin rushed out, not wanting to hear the answer, yet needing to. Arthur seemed to understand what Merlin meant and he sat back in his chair again, a weary expression on his face.
“After you…” he began, trailing off, “I was so angry. I hated you, wanted to show you how much your lies had hurt me.”
Merlin swallowed thickly, guilt rolling inside of him. He should have told Arthur, there had been plenty of times to, and he’d left it until there was no other choice.
“When you stepped inside of the Obsidian circle,” Arthur was saying, eyes closed and breathing steady, “I could feel your magic. My stone wanted me to go down there, wanted to resonate from those it was hewn with, because that’s what its task was.”
Oh. Arthur had come down for the stone. Not for Merlin then, but a stone that had wanted to be connected to his magic.
“No, no Merlin,” Arthur said hurriedly, reading Merlin’s expression clearly. “That’s not it.” He sighed, as if there was a heavy weight on his shoulders, as if there was a whole kingdom waiting for Arthur to claim it.
“You lied to me, but when I felt your magic, I knew that it wasn’t to be malicious. You’re not like Nimueh or my father, you wouldn’t use that against me, and I needed to see you, needed to help you…” he trailed off again, giving a rugged, nervous laugh.
“It’s always been you and me, hasn’t it? In everything we planned, everything we’ve done,” Arthur ran his tongue over his lips, leaning forward as Merlin’s eyes tracked his every move. “I couldn’t leave you. And I don’t think I ever will be able to.”
At the words, Merlin’s heart soared and he moved, not caring about the pain, hands grabbing for any hold on Arthur they could manage. He tried to kiss him desperately, but fumbled and fell slightly, his kiss falling on Arthur’s chin rather than his lips.
It drew a laugh, and Arthur’s boyish cackle rang through the room, making all the pain Merlin was in right now worth it. To see Arthur this happy and know that he wanted them to stay together despite everything they’d been through made Merlin losing his magic worth it.
“After I poured all my magic into the Obsidians, what happened?” Merlin ventured a few moments later, when he was back in his bed and Arthur was playing with his fingers. A dark look crossed his face, but he conceded, obviously knowing that Merlin had to be told.
“Nimueh was furious. She hadn’t considered any other option but forcing you to kill either Mordred or me, and when she realised what you were doing, she tried to stop you.” Arthur shook his head, “Your magic protected you and you started to glow. Everything changed then, the Obsidians began humming properly, and Nimueh was shouting about how she could feel the magic, how painful it was…”
Arthur shook his head again, and Merlin ran a thumb over his knuckles, waiting for him to complete the story in his own time.
“You have so much power,” he said quietly, looking at Merlin in wonder. “It was just pouring from you and into the Obsidians, never stopping. When Nimueh realised that she wouldn’t be able to stop you, she turned to Mordred instead.”
Hunith had said Mordred was fine, but that didn’t stop the spike of panic shooting through Merlin. If, after all of that, Mordred had been killed, how could Merlin had lived with it?
“You were on the ground and I pulled Excalibur from the Obsidian. I killed her. I killed Nimueh, because she was about to kill Mordred and you were on the ground, having done something completely reckless and stupid-“
“Arthur,” Merlin said, cutting him off. Despite everything she’d done to him and his family, Arthur still felt regret over killing Nimueh.
“You had to. Nimueh had been consumed with greed and power lust. You said that she called out in pain when she felt the magical channels?” Arthur nodded, meeting Merlin’s gaze slowly. “Those channels shouldn’t hurt. They contain the Old Magic, pure magic, and if she couldn’t feel the hope and happiness within them, then there was nothing we could do to save her.”
Bowing his head, Arthur sniffed heavily. He hadn’t shed a tear, but it was still hard work for him, having the blood of someone he’d once cared about forever on his hands. Merlin couldn’t blame him for that, but he could reach out and tell him that it was okay.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked softly, listening to the gulls as they called from places afar, swaying to the sea currents.
“About two days,” Arthur replied. “We were worried sick, but Gaius said that you would be okay.”
Merlin smiled, already knowing that Gaius and Mordred were okay. He was glad the physician was up and about, typical to his fashion and lifestyle, and was counting down the moments until he could visit them.
The roar of the sea floated into the room, and Merlin frowned, looking at Arthur. He hadn’t registered it as an oddity before, but never had the Ocean been heard in Camelot before.
Arthur grinned. “You reinforced the entire Tower. As you wished, we’re connected to the very earth itself, I had sorcerers confirm it. The Ocean can rage all it wants, but we’re staying here. I thought it was about time that the real sky was seen, and with you reinforcing the structure, Camelot’s top has opened up, much like a flower.”
Merlin smiled, knowing that the whole Tower had shaken with his magic. The crowded structure that had blocked Camelot in had been opened in the way the original Magicians had intended, in the way the Tower was supposed to be, open to the Ocean as its past, a memory of those they’d lost and loved, never forgotten.
“My father’s furious, of course. He’s been holding council sessions the past few days, trying to understand it all.” Arthur sighed, suddenly looking more tired and older. “I can’t really explain it to him so…”
“Yes,” Merlin replied at once. “Arthur, you don’t need to ask. As soon as I can, I’ll explain it to him, to all of them. We’ll show them,” he added and Arthur smiled.
“The people from the Pickings are still down there, many of them needing medical treatment which I managed to arrange. None of them are strapped up anymore, and a lot have been reunited.” Arthur gave Merlin a wry smile, “Apparently your name holds more stock that we thought, and once they found out that Emrys had done everything the sorcerers were more than willing to help. They’d even stand against Uther if I wished it, that’s how in awe of your power they are.”
Merlin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Arthur was standing, not looking at him fully.
“I have to go,” he announced, full of regret. “There’s so much to do, organising new buildings and everything. The sorcerers have started building, many of them noting that their magic has improved since you merged the channels properly,” Arthur smiled at Merlin, pride and admiration shining in his eyes. “Building work is going well and we’ll hopefully be able to start moving people in soon.”
Magic really was a wonderful thing, Merlin realised. If the sorcerers had already begun developing the outer reaches of Camelot, it meant that they could finally feel the magic that Merlin had always been aware of. They were following Arthur through his influence, but there was something terrible Merlin couldn’t tell Arthur, not yet at least.
As Arthur left, Merlin closed his eyes, digging desperately for his magic. Any shred of it, any hint or sign, yet there was none. Merlin opened his eyes , trying to relax as the waves crashing against each other floated upwards, but he couldn’t, not when he could ruin everything.
The sorcerers followed him because he was Emrys, a man with power enough to stop the seas and command the Old Magic itself. When they found out that he was just a man, barely out of adolescence, they would be at odds with him - for they had all trained for years to be admitted into the Magicians - and when they found out that he’d lost his power? Without Merlin to guide them, who would they bow to?
No one. They would fight amongst themselves until another Nimueh arose, and Camelot would fall back into turmoil, hidden from the people and just when it had been about to change.
Perhaps Gaius would be able to help Merlin, but could he go to Gaius and burden him more, just when he was recovering? Gaius would never say anything about being burdened, but Merlin couldn’t do it, not yet anyway.
There was someone else. Someone who would understand it better, and Merlin knew he had to go see Kilgharrah. Only the Great Dragon would be able to help him, perhaps unblock his magic (if it was blocked like before) and everything would be alright again.
It took Merlin a few more hours before he could slip out of his room, with Hunith and Gaius coming to sit with him for a while, just before night set in and they retreated to their own rooms. He waited an hour or two to make sure no one else would interrupt before he clambered out of bed, grateful for the strong painkillers Gaius had shoved at him earlier. He still ached, yes, but it was manageable.
Merlin discovered that he was in the palace itself, and remembered how Arthur had mentioned that the Obsidian Circle lead down the heart of the Tower. By all means, he should be able to get to the dragon from here too.
Excalibur wasn’t mounted on the wall anymore, and Merlin spared a brief thought for the sword, wondering whether Arthur had shown it proudly to the Court yet or whether he was waiting for Merlin to be by his side.
The Circle was silent, save for the low hum of magic that vibrated over Merlin, welcoming him as if they were kin. It was strange to think that about the stones, but they were older than any living creature, save for the dragon himself, and Merlin knew that they were alive in a sense.
He didn’t dare touch the stones, unsure whether his magic would try to pull back and into him from the Obsidians. Instead, Merlin kept walking, past the Circle to a row of steps, leading down and away, eventually to deposit at a pristine doorway, Merlin discovered.
He exited onto the level of the Pickings through a nondescript door that only gave acess outward. It was easy then to move into the shuttle (Merlin didn’t have too long anymore, and he was used to transportation by now) and let it carry him down as far as possible.
Even with all the shortcuts, it was hours before Merlin stepped onto level ground, looking around himself as he tried to find the dragon. The area was cold, Kilgharrah perhaps not needing to belch his magic out in his fire any longer, and Merlin felt suddenly scared.
He’d been scared before, of course, but it had been a long time since Merlin hadn’t felt the comforting weight of his magic inside of him as a reassuring presence.
There was a sudden rush of air, and Merlin shielded his eyes, taking a step back. When he opened them again, letting his arm fall down, Kilgharrah was there, eyes bright, and inclined his head.
“Young warlock,” he said simply, “I was not expecting you this soon.”
Merlin frowned, shaking his head. “I need your help.”
The dragon took on an astonished look, curling up on himself and stretching out his forelegs. A chain still bound him, but it wouldn’t be there for much longer.
“I cannot think why,” Kilgharrah said, a puff of warm air escaping his maw. “You chose to sacrifice yourself instead of others and so have begun your destiny. Together with the Prince you will unite the lands and its people.”
The dragon looked smug, pleased with himself and the course of action Merlin had taken.
“It’s about my magic,” Merlin said, and the smile slipped from Kilgharrah’s lips as he tilted his head in question. “It’s gone.”
A terrible, harsh sound filled the cavern around them, bouncing off of the walls and spiralling upwards. It was so loud that Merlin was certain the entire City above would be able to hear him, but it didn’t make Kilgharrah lessen his laughter.
“Merlin,” he said kindly, once he’d calmed enough. “Your magic will never be gone. Even if it drains from every human, every animal and every stone, it will never drain from you.”
The dragon arched his neck until his head was close to Merlin’s, eyes huge yet warm, looking down on Merlin as kin.
“Have you tried any spells?” he asked.
“I can’t feel my magic,” Merlin burst out, disbelief on his face. “I can’t use spells without my magic.”
“You can’t feel it because you’re not listening to it.” Kilgharrah’s voice was suddenly sharp, as if reprimanding a child. “Did you think that pouring your life-magic into the earth would be without consequence?”
Merlin didn’t reply, yet shook his head dumbly.
“When you gave every inch of your magic, every single thread you possessed, in your sacrifice, the Old Religion made a deal. You gave up everything for Camelot and Arthur destroyed Nimueh.” Kilgharrah shifted, thick chain clinking across the stones on the ground.
“The Old Religion is clear in balance, you know that already. The Old Magic demands a life for a life, a sacrifice for a sacrifice.” He paused, curling his lips back into a smile. “It gave you your life and its magic to you. Your magic is in everything around you, and the magic of the earth is within you.”
It took a moment for Merlin to fully understand the words, and when they sunk in, he let out a breathy sigh, moving to sit on the ground.
The reason he couldn’t feel his magic within his chest was because there wasn’t such a thing as just his magic. When he’d forced it into the stones, his magic had joined with the Old Magic, fusing inseparably. In turn, when the balance had to be restored, Merlin was filled with the joined magic. In short, he was the earth and the earth was he.
“That is why you need to learn to listen. The druids taught you well enough for you to learn this skill, but you will still be able to use it before then.” Kilgharrah shifted again, pushing up to a standing position and opening his wings.
“I’ll be back,” Merlin promised softly, looking to the chain. Kilgharrah bowed his head again before he vanished, throwing his neck and shoulders backwards and falling into the darkness with a rush of air.
Merlin remained down in the darkness for a while, eventually conjuring a small, blue orb for light. As soon as he felt the rush of power, Merlin could feel the entire City, all the people and the places. It was almost too much, and then the rush of Ocean-magic came over him and he calmed, understanding that he would need further training from Aglain before he’d ever be fully comfortable with his powers once again.
Slowly, letting his ball of light guide him, Merlin made his way back upwards, the journey longer than the one he’d had down here. He stopped every now and then to look around, take in parts of Camelot he’d never been able to before, before continuing on. He felt the pain receding now, an evident side effect (though a pleasant one) from using his magic.
It was as he’d known all along; magic wanted to be used. It wanted to heal him and so Merlin let it, taking small steps out and through the Pickings levels, moving back to his room as sunrise dawned over Camelot.
“Where have you been?” was all Merlin heard before he was engulfed in an embrace, Arthur’s hair brushing against his cheek as the other man buried his head against Merlin’s neck.
“I was so worried Merlin,” he rushed out, pulling Merlin tighter and closer, so much so that it began to hurt, and Merlin had to disentangle himself.
“I’m okay,” he said, smiling and shaking his head at the worry on Arthur’s face. “See, look?” He brought Arthur’s hands up to his face, letting him feel every inch of his skin, reassuring and comforting.
“I needed to talk to the dragon, the real one down in the base of the Tower.” Arthur pulled back slightly, his touch questioning.
“I thought I’d lost my magic,” Merlin said, allowing himself to be pulled over to the bed, resting against Arthur’s shoulder. No matter how much he had healed with the magic, he was still weary and resting against Arthur was a more than welcome prospect.
“Instead my magic is greater, in everything around us.” He closed his eyes, letting Arthur slip a hand around his waist, thumbing against his side reassuringly. “I can still use it, but it’s both terrifying and beautiful, even more than it was before.”
He let out a slight snort at that, turning to look at Arthur in the growing light. The purple, orange and brightening light casting their colours against Arthur’s face, free of faux-sky that had covered Camelot before.
Arthur’s eyes were lidded as Merlin fitted their mouths together, the kiss tender and ghosting. Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin’s waist, pulling him closer, and the kiss changed, deepening into something more, something promising and new. They’d done this before, but before they’d been desperate, needing the closeness and the touch rather than savouring it.
This time, with the sun rising on a new day, casting Camelot in gold and orange as the seas outside calmed slightly, satisfied with the offering Merlin had given them, the kisses were gentle and even more meaningful. They shed their clothes slowly, savouring the flesh and moments of touch without rushing or pushing for more.
Together, they moved back onto the bed, Merlin crouched over Arthur this time, bare for the world to see, yet Arthur’s alone. They kissed again, needy and wanton, and Merlin darted his tongue against Arthur’s jaw, smiling as Arthur whispered nonsense promises and pledges into the shell of his ear, a hand clutching the hair at the back of Merlin’s head, daring him to stop.
Stopping was the last thought on Merlin’s mind, however, and he moved down, forcing Arthur to release his grip. While reluctant, Arthur moved his hand, watching with darkened eyes as Merlin took the time to kiss against his collarbone, over the pounding heartbeat and feather-light over ribs. Merlin had a destination, but he made no dart for the prize, instead savouring the moment with his lips and his tongue, making just as many nonsensical promises as Arthur with his teeth and his kisses.
A line of curled hairs brushed over Merlin’s chin, and he risked a glance back up to Arthur, moving further downwards until heated flesh pressed against Merlin’s cheek, and he turned his attention to Arthur’s erect cock.
They hadn’t had time to do this before, and for Merlin this was new territory. He ran a thumb over the base of Arthur’s cock, along the vein with a finger, before stroking back down and listening to Arthur’s hitch of breath before circling his balls, looking all the while for his reactions.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked softly, voice almost alien in the silence of the morning. Arthur tilted his head up, reading what Merlin wanted even through the haze of pleasure, and he nodded, throwing his head back against the pillows, exposing his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly in anticipation.
Merlin looked down to the cock in his hand, still stroking it, learning what would push Arthur to the limit and what have him curled in delight, eyes screwed shut and Merlin’s name against his lips.
As he moved forward, Merlin exhaled, sending a wave of air carding across the head of Arthur’s cock, sending a judder throughout the length. Arthur’s hip twitched, seeking more contact, and Merlin obliged, wrapping his lips around the tip.
Arthur reacted with a heady breath, shifting his weight so that he could watch Merlin slip his cock in and out, lips tightening and tongue circling. With each stroke of his tongue, Merlin grew in confidence, taking the smallest amount more in his mouth, until he was full with Arthur’s length, warm cock pressing against his mouth. Arthur jerked and moaned with every movement Merlin gave, and he knew that everything had been worth it, all of their hardships and issues, just to accumulate in this one moment.
Arthur’s hands sought out Merlin, warning him, and Merlin pulled back wetly, saliva trailing down his chin. Arthur lapped the trails up, kissing Merlin again and reaching his hand down, smoothing over Merlin’s abandoned erection and trapping it against his belly.
“You have no idea,” Arthur whispered into their kiss, “no idea how scared you’ve had me.”
Merlin wanted to say that he did know, because he had. When Arthur had left him…
“Promise me,” Arthur said, between dirty kisses. “Promise me-“ he couldn’t say what he wanted, and Merlin understood why. He kissed back with fervour, understanding what Arthur wanted and knowing why he’d never ask it of him.
They didn’t need to pledge themselves to each other any longer, technically now that the people were free. If this had been anything less than they were right now, then perhaps they could have maintained a respectable distance, friends yet nothing more.
But Merlin needed Arthur. No matter what, he needed him. A future without Arthur by his side was unimaginable, and while Arthur would never force him to answer, Merlin wanted him to know that the question was a given.
“I promise,” Merlin replied, shifting his hips so that Arthur could open his hand and rub their cocks together, sticky and perfect.
Arthur came first, thrusting up against Merlin and into his hand, his faced flushing as he came and forehead against Merlin’s shoulder. He wasn’t done though, and he kept his hand there until Merlin was done, mouthing against his neck with warm breath, kissing him tenderly on the lips as he came.
As the sun hit the sky fully, Merlin lay curled together with Arthur, under the covers and pressed against each other. They didn’t talk, but the entwined legs and hands spoke volumes. The morning grew brighter as the day began, but they slipped into a peaceful sleep, pressed up against each other in a bed made for one, ignoring the world for a few hours.
.
Arthur was still there when he woke, and Merlin couldn’t stop the goofy smile that slipped over his features. He was still asleep, breathing softly and entire body relaxed, but when Merlin shifted onto his side to watch him better, Arthur stirred, opening an eye slightly.
“What time is it?” he asked huskily, more asleep than awake.
“No idea,” Merlin replied with a smile, running a hand across Arthur’s stomach and over his chest before kissing him, wincing at the bite sleep had given their breath.
“Mm,” Arthur agreed, sitting up and stretching. “Plenty of time for that later, but my father is making a public announcement today in the Square. It’ll be televised, so we’ll be able to watch it with the others.
That was how Merlin found himself in a large room, people close to him all around. Gaius and Hunith sat either side of him on a long sofa, hot drinks in hand as they looked at the television expectantly.
Mordred was also there, with a kind-faced man who had to be the boy’s father. Merlin had been introduced to them when he’d arrived, the father taking Merlin’s hand in earnest and thanking him profusely for all he’d done. He was the first who had done as such (Gaius and Hunith had thanked him in a different way, as people who loved him) and had been bright eyed when he’d mentioned so many others waiting to thank him.
The refugees were still out in the cold and those from the Pickings were still down near the cubicles, unhooked and free to roam, some reported to even be getting on well with their guards. That was all well and good for now, while they were reuniting and recovering, but they all must be looking to the future now, a future that Uther was about to announce for the whole of Camelot to hear.
The screen switched from the stock listings it had been reading, clearing to show the stern face of the King and his closest behind him. Arthur was there, at his father’s side, in full Camelot glory, chainmail and red cape, a connection to the world that the family line had been born from, according to Arthur, as the chainmail was a forgotten relic of the Old World, or at least Merlin had thought it was.
Merlin squinted, looking at the long sword at Arthur’s hip. He shifted his weight and Merlin smiled, recognising the golden panelling on the blade, naming Excalibur with ease.
Morgana was at the King’s other side, face carefully arranged to look blank and devoid of emotion, yet Merlin could see the fury in her eyes. The expression unsettled him, for Arthur had left only an hour or so ago and so would likely have missed any speculation on Uther’s announcement, whereas Morgana herself?
“I am speaking to you all today in light of recent events,” Uther began, stepping away from his family and onto a podium, complete with microphone so that his voice would be clear for all listening. He was a man used to getting what he wanted and this would be no exception.
“The entire city was shut down a few days ago,” he said, eyes darting over the crowd. “The problem has been sorted so I urge you not to worry. I think of myself as an understanding man and a fair ruler, so it is with a grave heart that I tell you the truth behind the events.”
Uther paused again and the camera zoomed in. Everyone in the room seemed to be leaning forwards, eyes fixed on the screen as Uther’s mouth opened and he began to speak once more.
“Nimueh, head of our Magicians and the strongest sorceress the world has seen for decades, is dead.” Even through the television Merlin could see the ripples of outrage and disbelief flooding through the gathered crowd.
“She was responsible for the Network shutting down, spreading fear and panic across our peaceful City.” Merlin’s eyes widened and comprehension dawned. Uther wouldn’t sink so low, would he?
“We trusted Nimueh,” he said, voice firm and carrying loud. “We all trusted her for what was best for this City, and instead I have discovered she was keeping people at our gates, leaving people in need down below to die and expecting us not to care about them.”
Merlin heard someone say ‘no’ in disbelief, but he couldn’t tell who had said it, anger curling in his own stomach. So that was why Morgana had been so furious. Uther was lying to the entire City, covering his tracks and blaming it all on Nimueh because she was dead.
“We have ordered building work to start all over Camelot so that these poor people can be at last given relief and shelter. Camelot will open its gates once again, and we will protect our people.” At Uther’s words, the camera panned out, and Merlin’s eyes saw the anger in Arthur’s stance instantly. One hand was at Excalibur’s hilt, eyes locked on his father’s back.
Morgana moved slightly, hissing something into his ear as Uther went on about what Nimueh had done, the terrible things she had hidden from them all, and Arthur relaxed slightly, shifting his weight backwards yet never taking his hand from his sword.
Not that Merlin could blame him for it; Uther deserved to pay for what he was doing.
The announcement tapered down after that, Uther still lying through his teeth and both Morgana and Arthur looking as if they were ready to kill the king where he stood. They didn’t, thankfully, and Uther stepped down after thanking his people for their compassion for opening their doors, looking to Arthur and nodding for him to follow as he returned to the palace.
Someone turned the television off and silence filled the room, choking Merlin until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the magic roll off of him in his anger, yet he wasn’t aware of what it would do until it hit a plant on the window ledge, the flower sprouting to bloom instantly and more buds appearing, until the long stem carried six large flower heads, bright and beautiful.
A hand on his shoulder brought Merlin back, and Gaius looked at him grimly.
“Uther needs to know the truth of what you did,” he said, drawing nods from the others in the room. “I don’t doubt Arthur already explained it to him the best he could, but it needs to be backed with power. Preferably I’d say you need to gather the Magicians as they’re loyal to you now, but you don’t have that sort of time.”
Gaius was moving towards the door, dragging Merlin with him.
“They’ll be back soon and we need to get down to the council rooms before Arthur ends up doing something he’ll regret,” Gaius said, and Merlin didn’t bother to disagree, nodding to the others before stalking alongside Gaius, keeping up with his former mentor as they moved through the castle and towards Uther.
They arrived at the council room -as Gaius had called it - before Uther had returned. The guards that had been stationed at the door were older than Merlin had expected, but it was in their favour as they recognised Gaius, opening the doors wide-eyed.
“Take a seat,” Gaius said to Merlin, gesturing to one of the long benches in the centre of the room, designed for holding council sessions with many people.
They didn’t have to wait long, for Arthur marched into the room, followed by his father. Gaius rose slowly, every day of his age showing on his face, and Merlin followed suit, a little hesitant. The anger on Arthur’s face softened as he caught Merlin’s eye, but then Uther spoke and the fury was back.
“Gaius,” the king breathed out, stepping forwards as if to embrace an old friend and then thinking better of it, clearly remembering the past and what he had done to lose a friendship.
“Uther,” Gaius replied, not bothering this time with titles. “I’m sure you understand why Arthur is here, but it might interest you to know that Merlin and myself are here for the same reason.”
Uther barely reacted, flicking a glance over Merlin disdainfully and looking to Arthur.
“This is the boy you claimed was helping you to reach a solution on the power shortages,” Uther said, and Merlin raised an eyebrow, amused that the king had remembered him from the garden.
Arthur didn’t get a chance to reply, for Uther was speaking again.
“I’m not sure what you expect me to do for you,” he said, frowning. “It is regretful that you were exiled, Gaius, and now Nimueh has been defeated perhaps you could-“
“Merlin is Balinor Emrys’ son. He comes from the Island of Ealdor, miles across the Ocean. He and his mother were the only survivors that we know of who made the journey, and that was thanks in large to the elemental nature in Merlin’s magic.” Gaius’ voice was blunt, eyes fixed solely on the king.
“Elemental nature?” Uther commented, looking at Merlin again, a considering look on his face, as if he was judging Merlin’s worth. “And a powerful Dragonlord?”
The words drew a ripple of disgust through Merlin as he realised that, for Uther, nothing had changed. He was unwilling to accept the truth, instead blaming it on the dead, and even now didn’t believe that there was an alternative to the problem than sucking the magic out of innocents.
“He is the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen, and he is the reason Camelot is flourishing after the power block,” Gaius said firmly, and Arthur stepped forwards, cloak sweeping the floor.
“Merlin helped me to free the people you had enslaved,” he began. “Merlin is the reason these people don’t need to be tortured any longer and can live their lives. Merlin is the reason that our future now exists, as well as thoughts to expand.” Arthur gritted his jaw before the next sentence, taking a deep breath and flaring his nostrils.
“Merlin is the reason I know the truth about what you did to my mother and he is the only one who told me that my own father has been lying to me my entire life.” Arthur spat out the words and then tilted his head back, waiting for what Uther would say in his defence.
“I did what I had to for this City,” he began, but Merlin couldn’t stand the excuses any more.
“You have cause so much suffering for so many people,” he said, voice low. He could feel the magic around him responding, wanting to creep towards Uther and show him exactly how powerful he was, but he restrained it.
“I understand that it was difficult, but do you know how many people you caused to suffer? I have lived in the refugee camps, I have been enslaved, and I would rather die than be forced into a life of that.” Merlin took in a deep breath before continuing. “You didn’t even bother to look for other ways, instead enslaving thousands of people and chaining a dragon and ripping his magic from him too.”
Merlin shook his head, lip curling in disgust. “You don’t even care about the people you loved, casting them aside when they learnt the truth and wanted to change it for the good. You lie to your own people about Nimueh and then act as if you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Gaius clasped his shoulder again and Merlin stilled, swallowing thickly and nodding. He’d said what he needed to and Gaius had brought him back before he’d done something he’d regret.
“I did what I needed to for my kingdom,” Uther said, eyes cold. “And until you understand what sacrifices mean, you are nothing but a peasant and a fool.”
With a single, withering look at his son, Uther walked from the room, ignoring Arthur’s call for him to stay. The king was done with the subject and that was that, no matter that he was lying to millions of people.
“We tried,” Gaius said, defeated. “We tried to make him see sense, but I fear that it is far too late. Uther cares little for anyone anymore, only that he is right.”
Arthur made a noise of agreement, a sad little noise only a child could make when learning of the humanity of its father.
“I always thought he was more,” Arthur said, and Merlin moved to his side instantly, hating the sadness Uther had caused.
“I hate to defend him, but he didn’t know what to do. Now that the truth is out, he can’t do anything but stick to his pride, as all powerful men do when they’re alone.” Arthur calmed a little at his words, but when he looked at Merlin there was an odd expression on his face.
“He won’t listen to me or Morgana, and even Gaius wasn’t a shock enough,” Arthur said, sending a small smile Gaius’ way. “I need…” Arthur trailed off. “I want…”
Merlin looked at him, concerned, not understanding. Gaius, on the other hand, nodded and looked warmly at Merlin.
“I need to collect my things as well as tell Aglain to prepare everyone to move. Some of the druids may prefer to remain in the Wasteland, of course,” Merlin thought of Alvarr, “but the majority will rejoice that they can finally enter Camelot.”
Now Merlin understood what Arthur had been asking, and the one person who would be able to change Uther’s stance. If Ygraine couldn’t do it, then there was no hope left to change Uther’s mind, and the crown would have to be won in bloodshed.
They didn’t set off for the Wastelands right away, instead returning to their wing of the palace, Arthur and Hunith meeting for the first time under Merlin’s eye. They had met before, often in fact, but Merlin had never seen their interactions.
Arthur was charming, yet Merlin could see the slight insecurities under his façade, the slightly cautious way he acted around Hunith, as if she was a delicate woman. It might have been to do with the fact that she was a mother, but most likely more to do with the fact she was Merlin’s mother.
They had dinner together, Mordred and his father joining their little family officially, and the meal was full of laughter and smiles, even though Merlin knew a whirlpool of nerves had to be churning in the pit of Arthur’s stomach at the prospect of meeting his mother.
Underneath the table, Merlin held onto Arthur’s hand tightly, and Arthur gripped back with a little, secretive smile. When Merlin looked across the table, he caught his mother’s proud gaze, and she looked away a moment later, dabbing at the corner of her eyes in an undoubtedly soppy manner that Merlin hoped Arthur had overlooked.
“We could wait until tomorrow,” Gaius said, looking at the setting sun and then at the ball of nerves Arthur had been reduced to. “Except I fear that it wouldn’t do you much good.”
Gaius looked over at Mordred, “We can collect your possessions too?”
An answering nod was all he got, and Merlin couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go back down to Alvarr and leave his father.
They set off almost immediately, after a short period of time that Gaius took to gather a few bags, for the items he wanted extra care taken with. During that time, Arthur had drawn Merlin aside, panicked look on his face as he’d demanded to know if his clothes were okay and his hair perfect. Merlin had laughed the questions off and kissed Arthur, calling him perfect, and Arthur had calmed a little.
“She loves you,” Merlin said as they left the room, heading down to the Obsidian Circle. “She always has and always will, even if you get on my nerves and I turn you into some kind of Old World toad or something.”
That, thankfully, had drawn a chuckle from Arthur, and they’d walked down to the Picking levels a little calmer, following Gaius as he led them to a secretive door, opening it and nodding to himself as a shuttle was revealed.
“This will take us down to the lock,” he said, “though the occasions for me using it this time are much happier than the last two times.”
Merlin smiled, glad for the fact that they could talk about their experiences. He still felt guilty for what he had put Gaius through, but the old man had been firm in telling Merlin that it had had to happen or else Merlin would have arrived in Camelot too late. Their timing had been perfect, and Gaius didn’t want to hear a word of Merlin’s apologies.
The shuttle was slow-moving, chugging down its chute, unaware to its passengers’ growing trepidation. Even when they hit the ground level they had to walk for hours, all the while Arthur’s anxiety growing.
Still, they reached the bottom soon, stepping out and Merlin and Gaius readjusting to the gloom of the Wastelands. Merlin smiled as he caught site of the knobbly trees scattered across his vision, sharing a look with Gaius.
While Camelot was their home, the Wastelands with its trees and bogs would always hold a place in their hearts. Even in this vile land, life had grown and flourished. Perhaps not as pretty as the flowers in the royal gardens, but beautiful in their own right.
As they walked, Merlin told Arthur stories of his time here, about the trees and their healing sap, about the Urchin children - even spotting a few in the distance. Arthur absorbed the information with interest, walking through unfamiliar ground as if he’d grown up on the land, and Merlin would be lying if he said he didn’t envy the natural skill of bog-walking Arthur seemed to possess.
“Some of us are born princes,” Arthur drawled jokingly. “We’re born perfect, I’m sorry you weren’t.”
That earned him an elbow in the side, and finally Arthur slipped slightly, down onto his knees and splaying a hand out in a puddle, wincing as his hand came back up coated in mud.
Merlin laughed, running forwards as Arthur made to wipe his hand on him, skidding on patches of mud as Gaius looked on with a faux stern attitude, calling for them to be more careful or else they’d break their necks.
The druid camp had come into view miles back, and Gaius had spent the time explaining the community - and by association Merlin’s role within the druids - to Arthur. Arthur had listened intently, particularly whenever Gaius mentioned Merlin or his own work, as Gaius was linked with his mother.
Someone must have scouted them across the Wasteland for a group of druids were waiting out of the camp. Children had joined them, holding scraps of coloured cloth and waving them with joy in their face, excited yet not quite understanding why.
There was a woman at the front of the group, hair bundled on top of her head and face pale as she scanned their faces. Merlin recognised Ygraine and smiled, not wanting to ruin the surprise just yet, as Arthur hadn’t noticed her.
The closer they got, the more Arthur hung back. Merlin took the lead, with Gaius falling behind him, between him and Arthur. Merlin didn’t wait, knowing that was not what Arthur would want, and so made forward to greet the druids and catch their attention so that Arthur could spend time with Ygraine.
“Merlin!” a voice called, strong and elated, and then Ygraine was pushing forwards, throwing her arms around Merlin and holding him tightly.
“You made it,” she whispered, pushing him back to hold his face and kiss his cheek. “Look at you, you did it!”
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued, “We all felt the spike of magic, but we feared the worst until the scouts said they’d seen you.” She pulled him close again, tucking her head against his neck as Gaius stepped closer to the group.
She didn’t quite pull away as she had before, still with Merlin’s arms wrapped around her, but she moved back slightly, looking at him.
“Did you…” she began, and Merlin fought his smile down. “I mean, did you get to see him? How was he? Unless…” Ygraine frowned, not finishing that terrible sentence.
Instead, Merlin leant down a little, speaking quietly against her ear.
“It’s always better to judge for yourself, so why don’t you ask him instead of me telling you?” With that, Merlin let go of Ygraine and she turned shell-shocked eyes away from Merlin and to Arthur, who was standing a little way back from the group, mud caked up over his shoes and the bottom of his trousers.
“A… Arthur?” she asked, almost to herself.
“He wanted to see you,” Merlin said quietly, nodding towards Arthur. “He’s been painfully nervous,” was all Merlin managed to say before Ygraine was off, walking slowly towards the son she’d lost years ago.
As Ygraine moved over the space between them, she picked up her pace, running by the time Arthur took a sole step forwards and she flung her arms around him, tears falling down her face.
Merlin looked on with a smile, watching as Ygraine rushed out her words and Arthur looked so lost and yet so happy. Just how Merlin had found his mother again, Ygraine had been returned to her son. All the fears that Arthur must have been feeling were peeled away as Ygraine kept holding her son, refusing to let him go more than a bare second without her hand smoothing his face or her pressing a kiss on his brow.
“Emrys,” a warm, deep voice greeted, and Aglain stepped through the druids, arms wide open. “Well done.”
Merlin couldn’t help the smile that came over him, stepping forwards and accepting Aglain’s one-armed hug, letting him draw him away from Arthur and into the druid camp for a more private talk.
“Almost all of us will be joining you in Camelot when we can,” he began, pouring Merlin a cup of water and offering him some food. Dinner had been quite a few hours ago, so Merlin took the cut-up root sections gratefully, chewing on the rough bark and enjoying the tangy taste that filled his mouth.
“Alvarr has refused to join us, and most of his followers have pledged the same,” Aglain continued, mouth downturned in disapproval. “When we felt your magic in the earth, he snapped.”
Merlin looked up in shock, pausing in chewing. “What did he do?” he asked quietly, never having really known Alvarr so not being able to judge what he was capable of.
“He got into a fight and killed someone. It may not sound too terrible a deed, but we are a peaceful group.” Aglain sighed heavily, “As such he was exiled from the camp and took his followers with him. They’re somewhere in the Wastelands, probably over the other side completely, and will no doubt be plotting revenge against you.”
“But I saved him,” Merlin couldn’t help but protest, and Aglain rolled his eyes, nodding.
“Exactly. But he believes that he should have been the one to save us all, using Mordred. Nothing will shake that from his head, and I wanted to warn you to be careful. Leave a man down here thinking he can run this place and he will get ideas. If you leave him here, or even force him up to Camelot, he will stew and try to take you down.” Aglain took one of the roots himself, chewing on it as Merlin was.
“Give a man people and he’ll build himself up as a war leader. I just wanted you to take care of him, be aware that given a smidgeon of a chance, he would see you dead.” With that, Aglain asked if there were any questions Merlin had.
Merlin relayed what Kilgharrah had said about his magic, and how overwhelming it could be. Aglain had listened as his teacher and smiled.
“You won’t need it for long,” he said, “but I am more than willing to offer my tutelage. Meditation is a core factor to control elemental magic, let alone the elements themselves. You are bound to the earth now and it will be perhaps the most important skill you’ll need to learn, but learn it you will, and I have a feeling you’ll do so very quickly.”
Even now, after he’d fulfilled the prophecy and completed his task, the fact that Aglain had such faith in him warmed Merlin, and he thanked the druid leader graciously. He explained that they couldn’t take them back up to Camelot just yet, but it was only a matter of days now, what with building work advancing as sorcerers came into their proper power, recovering from the binding spells that had chained them to Nimueh’s will.
“I shall let everyone know,” Aglain said. “Though I assume Eigyr will be travelling with you now, considering that she is Queen Ygraine?”
Merlin didn’t ask how Aglain knew and simply nodded.
“I fear she is the only one who will be able to push Uther to see the truth. At the very best she’ll convince him to abdicate the throne so that Arthur can take over,” Merlin said, before he realised that Aglain had no idea about Uther, Arthur and Ygraine.
“Do you trust Arthur to be a good king?” he asked instead, watching Merlin closely for his reaction.
“I trust him to be the best,” came Merlin’s reply, and Aglain nodded, smile gracing his lips.
“Then we shall follow him, for he sounds like a good man. That is exactly the kind we need to rule this land, a good man with someone he cares about by his side.” Aglain’s smile widened as Merlin looked up in shock.
“You deserve the happiness,” he said, before wandering off to the back of the tent, pulling something from a box and returning to Merlin.
“Here, this book will be able to guide you until I can enter Camelot,” Aglain said, pressing a small, leather-bound book into Merlin’s hand. He flicked through the pages, looking at the various meditative positions and smiling in thanks. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it would help Merlin ease back into his teachings and grow more comfortable with his magic.
They parted shortly after that, Merlin returning to Gaius’ tent to help his group pack up. Ygraine and Arthur were still huddled together, shooting glances at each other as if letting the other slip from their site would mean they were gone forever. Merlin smiled and walked over to Gaius, helping the man pack up books and plants, frowning as he realised they had no real way of transporting the boxes across the Wasteland.
“Merlin,” Gaius said, pulling back from organising a stack of dried herbs. His tone indicated that Merlin was being particularly slow, but Merlin only frowned.
“My goodness,” Gaius muttered, “I know you’re powerful and everything now, but did it strike you that I’m not just an old codger? Magic is how we’ll get them across the Wasteland. Plenty in me and I doubt you’ll let me do it all by myself.”
Merlin gave a little laugh. “Of course,” he said. “It just seems odd to think that I’ll be able to do that now.”
Gaius shot him a curious look, weighted as if fearing Merlin’s thoughts, but Merlin hastened to add that it was nothing like that.
“I just mean,” he said, “that it will be odd using magic for myself. Before it was juts building up to a bigger destiny, but I’m quite enjoying using magic for other things.”
“Don’t be fooled into thinking your job is done,” Gaius cautioned, filling one of his bags with delicate equipment. “I have no doubt that the Obsidians will call for your help again, especially with all this building going on in Camelot.”
The physician gave a wry grin. “And I doubt you’ll be able to stop yourself, for the magic in you will need a release too, I’m sure.”
They continued packing, Merlin wandering over to his former room and packing up everything in there. Arthur entered shortly after, looking tired yet satisfied, warmth in his eyes as he approached Merlin, pulling him close without a word.
“Thank you,” he whispered against Merlin’s neck.
Merlin cradled his head against him, smiling and pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur’s head.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he began. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before-“
“It’s okay,” Arthur said, pulling back and smiling. ”It doesn’t matter now.”
They moved through the room together, packing everything in silence. It was comfortable with Arthur, as it always had been really, and while he couldn’t specifically feel the thread of magic that was drawn to Arthur, Merlin could feel the hum that it was there. A part of the earth would always love Arthur, and that was something that Merlin felt proud that he’d made happen.
The night passed, but none of the druids slept. As the camp awakened, word spreading that Emrys was here, druids came by Gaius’ tent, seeking to thank Merlin for what he had done and to impart gifts upon him. Most were woven tokens, small scraps of cloth with animals from the Old World or spells woven into them, but a few people offered larger gifts, including, notably, a goat that nipped at his fingers, bleating happily.
The goat reminded him of the one they had in Ealdor, and Merlin had been about to thank the man and take the goat when Gaius had sternly told him that he was to live in the palace for now, and that was no place for a goat. There was too much to do, but when things settled then yes, Merlin could have a goat.
Both Merlin and the man trying to give the goat away looked crestfallen at Gaius’ words, but the goat seemed content to nibble on the corner of Merlin’s jumper, bleating when the man pulled it away.
“But Gaius,” Merlin began again, gesturing at the billy who didn’t want to leave. “He already likes me.”
Arthur snorted from where he was packing up the last of the books, and Merlin turned to glare at him. Gaius took the opportunity to usher the goat from the tent, and the matter was closed.
They were done soon after, and Gaius spoke the spell aloud that would carry the boxes in neat procession behind them. The boxes, true to the spell, lined up with a little quiver, picking themselves up though the contents would have been too heavy for even Arthur to carry.
It seemed like the entire camp this time had come to see them off, and they moved through the druids with smiles and well-wishes bestowed upon them.
They walked in a row, Gaius and Ygraine beside Arthur and Merlin, carefully picking their way through the land, guided by a sliver of light shining in from the side as dawn broke outside. Refugees would be stirring awake by now, unaware that above, their whole lives were about to be changed for the better.
.
|Part Fifteen|