2 fics update
Title: Words Unspoken
Author: Loopstagirl
Word Count: 1888
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He had always been honest with the dragon. Merlin had hoped the favour would be returned. Apparently not.
Warning: Spoilers for ep 2 of Series 5
Merlin knew that he had to wait until Mordred had been knighted, until everything had settled down as the kingdom readjusted to having her king back. He also knew that he had to wait until Arthur stopped giving him a stupid amount of chores to do for no apparent reason. He knew why though, knew it was the monarch’s way of keeping him close, keeping an eye on him. Merlin was fully aware that he had given Arthur cause for concern during their trip to Ismere. Not only with his seeming suicide run after a dragon, but his insistence that the king killed Mordred. Merlin knew that was not like him to be the one taking the violent approach, and the look that Arthur had given him had informed him precisely what the king thought about it.
But eventually, the festivities died away and Arthur stopped looking at him as if he was expecting his servant to suddenly grow another head or something dramatic like that. It also helped that Arthur had finally been given a clean bill of health from Gaius and therefore was allowed back out onto the training fields for the first time since Morgana had stabbed and knocked him out. With Arthur distracted and beginning to sleep properly again, Merlin knew that his chance had come.
Almost three weeks after they had returned from that forsaken place, he pulled on his warmest jacket and crept out of his shared chambers. As usual, Gaius simply continued to snore, not seeming to notice that his ward was slipping out. It showed how many times Merlin had done this, for it took him almost no effort at all to duck past the guards and head out into the forest. When he reached his normal clearing, he threw back his head and roared. The rush of power flooding through his veins made him feel warmer and more alive than he had done for weeks now, and Merlin found that he was grinning as he waited for Kilgharrah to respond to his call.
It seemed to take the Great Dragon an age to arrive, but by the time that the familiar sound of wings reached Merlin’s ears, his grin had slipped. Instead, there was nothing short of anger in his expression as the beast landed in front of him, dipping his head in acknowledgement.
“For what purpose do you call me this time, young warlock?”
“Where’s Aithusa?” Merlin said bluntly, in no means to play games. As soon as he had seen the flash of white in the tunnels, he knew that it was the young dragon that was there. The one he had helped bring into this world, the one that, as a Dragonlord, he was responsible for. Kilgharrah didn’t answer him, but instead just looked long and steadily at the warlock. Eventually, he spoke.
“I assume that by the fact that you are asking me, you know full well that I do not know.” Merlin could only gape for a long moment. He had thought that the creature would have some sort of excuse, some sort of riddle as to why the youngster was far away and in the company of the one person that Kilgharrah seemed to dislike almost as much as he had done Uther. Fully aware that he was simply staring, Merlin snapped his mouth shut and began pacing in agitation.
“How long has she been missing? What didn’t you think of telling me, Aithusa is my responsibility?”
“You never asked, young warlock. And due to Albion beginning to exist now more than ever over the last few years, your need to call me have been few and far between.”
“She’s a baby! And she’s with Morgana! She can’t even speak, Kilgharrah, is that what you wanted? She’s been through something, something terrible, and it doesn’t matter that I can command you, she physically can’t tell me!”
Merlin wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased or not by the way that Kilgharrah seemed to visibly recoil, a look entering his eye that Merlin wasn’t sure he had ever seen before or not. It was almost as if he was guilty. Taking advantage of that, Merlin pressed on, looking eyes with the noble creature.
“You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you didn’t think that I would want to know? I don’t care if I haven’t needed to call you because of some sort of danger to Camelot, you could have called me. I know you can, even if you haven’t done it for years. I wouldn’t have ever met you if you hadn’t invaded my head.”
“A dragon’s path is their own, Merlin. I have no responsibility for Aithusa. If she wanted to leave, it is not in my nature to stop her. I have spent too many years as a prisoner, I will not impose it on another.”
“So instead you’ll let her go to the one person that you’ve always wanted me to kill? Morgana might not be able to command Aithusa the way that I can, but that means that Aithusa trusts her, or that she has done something to her in order for her to stay by her side.”
“If you kill the witch, then your dragon will be free.” Kilgharrah responded somewhat smugly, and Merlin let a soft warning growl emit from the back of his throat.
“You are not making this about me. Don’t you think we haven’t tried to stop Morgana? What I want to know is why Aithusa can’t speak, why she looks like she has been through the seven hells and why on earth you didn’t think to tell me that she has been gone for so long?” Merlin’s voice lowered as he spoke, and he knew that, subconsciously, his dragonlord powers were coming through. Kilgharrah had denied him answers too many times in the past, but this time, Merlin wanted to know. If he was honest, he couldn’t stop the twisting feeling of guilt from clenching in his gut. The great dragon was right, he should have asked sooner about the young one.
Kilgharrah shifted, not saying anything for a long moment. Merlin realised it wasn’t because he didn’t want to answer, but because he didn’t know how.
“What did you do?” He asked quietly, recognising the look in the dragon’s eye. It was almost the same look he could feel burning in his own eyes when he had deliberately pushed Arthur too far in order to just get a reaction. Somehow, he had a feeling that Kilgharrah knew more about why Aithusa had left than he wanted to say.
“Kilgharrah.”
“I… the young one wanted to follow you to Camelot. She kept trying to come after you, craving the contact of her dragonlord. I forbad her from doing so.” Merlin closed his eyes, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“You should have…”
“Told you, yes I suppose I should have. But I trusted a dragonlord once before, and it resulted in me spending twenty years chained in a cave at the mercy of my jailer.”
“My father was betrayed, don’t you ever talk about him like that!” Merlin didn’t even think of keeping his voice down. His emotions were too strong right now. If he wanted to yell and curse, a dragon was certainly not going to stop him.
“He was betrayed. And what is to stop your king from doing the same to you?”
“You’re the one that always spoke of what Arthur was destined for, how can you say that?”
“He is still a Pendragon. I will not let her put all her trust in you for you to be manipulated by your loyalty to the king and lead her to the same fate as I.”
“I should kill you for that.” Merlin said softly, darkly. Arthur had been right about being worried about him for the way he had behaved at Ismere. Now more than ever, Merlin was feeling the weight of his destiny crushing down on him, and he scared himself by the lengths he was now prepared to go to in order to make sure that Albion was safe.
“You should, but you won’t. Your heart is too pure; you will not hurt me, despite your powers.” Kilgharrah said softly, lowering his head to look the warlock in the eye. “I didn’t tell you that the young one had gone because it was her choice. It was her fate to explore wider worlds. And you are wrong; I did not know that she had ended up with the witch.”
“We have to get her back. “Merlin whispered, his voice losing the anger almost as quickly as it had come. Kilgharrah was right; he would never be able to do anything to hurt those he felt responsible for. But if Morgana had done anything, even told Aithusa a lie, then Merlin was going to make sure that he personally ensured that she never hurt anyone again. It was one thing for her to go after another human, but to use Aithusa… Merlin knew that being the last Dragonlord came with a responsibility, and for the first time in his life, he thought about what it would be like to be a parent.
“Can we do it? Can we bring her home?”
“Now that I know she is with the witch, I might be able to find her. If that is what you command?”
“No.” Merlin said simply, craning his neck back and looking up at the ancient and noble creature before him. “It’s what I ask. Bring Aithusa back, Kilgharrah. For Albion. For me.”
The dragon dipped his head and took flight, Merlin automatically taking a step backwards in order to maintain his balance against the huge gust of wind. He stood out there on the field, watching as the huge beast turned into a tiny speck in the sky and then disappeared altogether. Sighing, he lowered his gaze and turned his head back towards Camelot. He knew that he had to return, yet again his destiny was calling him back and if he stayed out here much longer, he would be late for work. Dawn was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and as Merlin took his first step towards home, he felt a sense of determination sink into him.
He by no means trusted Mordred, and certainly wasn’t planning on letting the Druid near Arthur without someone being there to watch them. His destiny was on the line once again, but Merlin knew what he had been doing wrong. He had grown relaxed, complacent almost, in the few years of peace they had had. That foolish belief that just because everything was okay at the time meant he didn’t have to be on guard could have potentially cost him Aithusa.
Not anymore. There was a spring in his step as he hurried back into the castle and Merlin felt his eyes glow with power and determination as he put wards in place. If the great trial for Albion had indeed begun, then Merlin was going to make sure that he met every challenge head on. He wasn’t going to let anything else be lost because he wasn’t paying attention.
And he was going to get Aithusa back and healed, no matter what it took.
FF.Net
Title: Ghosts of the Past
Author: Loopstagirl
Word Count: 2826
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Uther might have been gone, but that didn't stop him from haunting Arthur's mind.
Warning: Spoilers for ep 3 of Series 5.
Gwen knew that if Arthur found out she was doing this, he would be highly embarrassed. But she didn’t see what choice she had, not considering this was the third night in a row the king had woken up drenched in sweat and shaking, calling out to a father who had ultimately betrayed him. She knew that Arthur had always had issues with his father, the need to please the late King would have once taken president over anything else that was going on. But as he had matured and grown from the prattish prince into the strong leader, she knew that Arthur had begun to see Uther in a different light.
Uther’s breakdown after Morgana’s betrayal had been what had changed him in Arthur’s view. The prince had been forced to accept that he was ready to be king, and that was what he was in all but name. Uther was no longer fit to lead, and considering he could spend days at a time just staring out of the window, refusing to touch his food and refusing to acknowledge his son, he wasn’t truly fit to be a father either. Arthur had refused to give up on him though, refused to accept that the strong yet ruthless king had gone, leaving a broken shell of a man. The way Uther had died, saving his only son, had been the first glimpse of the old king for over a year, and Gwen knew that had sparked something in Arthur.
It had given him the hope that his father might be returned to him. Yet rather than living and surviving, Uther had been taken from him just as Arthur was beginning to truly believe that the man he had looked up to his whole life was coming back. The new king had never truly been given time to grieve, having to start his new duties only the next day after Uther’s death. Gwen had seen how that was Arthur’s way of coping, and year after year on that anniversary, she had let her husband steal away in the midst of the celebrations. She pretended that all was fine, that was his way of dealing with it.
But since the spirit had crossed over, something in Arthur had changed. He seemed almost hollow, as if he had finally said something that had been on his mind for a while. Neither him nor Merlin would say precisely what had happened, and Gwen knew better to ask. For years she had believed that Merlin was not only hiding something, but that he had Arthur’s best interests at heart. And Arthur could be as detached as his father at times when it came to matters of the heart.
So that was why the Queen of Camelot could be found hurrying down a cold corridor in the darkness, only one flickering torch lighting her way. When Gwen had first realised the route she would have to travel down in order to reach Merlin, her heart had given an unusual tremor. Never before had she been scared of navigating these corridors after dark - her days as a maid meant she often hadn’t left until after night had fallen. Yet never before had she been attacked by the ghost her husband’s dead father before.
However, that was the very reason that Gwen knew she had to do this. She had to overcome her own fear in order to help Arthur. He might have been able to send Uther back to the other world, yet he was still being haunted in some way or another. The first night she had felt him jolt awake, his pants filling the silence of the room, she hadn’t thought anything of it. It had been a somewhat traumatic experience - he had gone to say goodbye only to be told that he was failing and then had had his father try and kill him. But now it was night three, Gwen knew that she had to do something about it. Arthur would never voice to anyone that he was having trouble sleeping, so she was just going to have to do it for him.
The silence of the corridors meant that the queen found herself walking faster than normal, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when a slither of light could be see flickering from underneath Gaius’ door. She hadn’t thought what she might do if they had already gone to bed, especially as there wasn’t anything physically wrong with Arthur. It was just the demons of his mind plaguing him this time, and because of that, it wasn’t the physician she had come to see.
Gwen found that old habits die hard and before she knew what she was doing, she had knocked softly on the door. Gaius’ old voice bid her to enter, yet both physician and ward blinked in surprise to see the queen standing there in the middle of the night. Merlin looked exhausted, and Gwen wondered whether perhaps Arthur was not the only one suffering here.
“Can I help you, Milady?” It had almost unnerved Gwen how easily Gaius had slipped into calling her by her official title, but this time, she felt like nothing more than the small girl who had followed him around whilst her brother learnt the tools of the trade from their father. Hesitantly, she shook her head, glancing at Merlin.
“Can Merlin help you, Gwen?” Gaius pressed, seeing where her gaze was focusing.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Merlin looked worried as he stood up, taking a small step towards her. Gwen smiled, glad that even if she was now technically his monarch, Merlin didn’t pay attention to her title any more than he did Arthur’s. It would have pained her more than words could say if her marriage had lost her a dear friend in the process.
“I’m fine. It’s…”
“Arthur?” This time, Gwen nodded.
“I think he is having nightmares over what happened. He won’t talk about them, but this is the third night that they have woken him up. I’m worried about him, Merlin.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“But… he won’t even talk to me about them.”
“It’s Arthur, he doesn’t talk to anyone if he doesn’t want to, you know what he is like.”
“Merlin?” Gaius smiled gently at seeing the look on Gwen’s face, seeing the way she was beginning to get a little agitated about the fact Merlin had yet to realise what it was that she was asking of him.
“Yes?”
“I think the queen would like it if you went to talk to him.”
“Me? What makes you think he’ll talk to me?” Merlin practically yelped, his gaze going between the two of them. “He’s more likely to throw something at me than he is talk to me.”
“And yet you were there when he encountered Uther. Go on, on with you. Now, Gwen, would you like some of this pie?” Gaius’ look stopped Merlin’s protest that that was his bit of pie and the warlock sighed.
“Always up to me.” He huffed, grabbing his jacket but heading for the door at the same time.
“What does he mean?” Gwen asked quietly, slipping onto Merlin’s previous stool. She might be a queen now, and get to sample all of the finest foods in the land, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to return to the things she had grown up knowing now and again.
“He’s just being his dramatic self.”
“I heard that!” As Merlin’s yell floated back through the open door, the queen and the physician exchanged knowing looks. Gwen found that her smile was far more genuine as she handed Gaius his own slice of the pie. She had been right coming here. If anyone could get through to Arthur, it would be his servant. Considering how exhausted Merlin had looked, maybe it would do them both good? Judging by the twinkle in Gaius’ eye, he was thinking the same thing.
MMM
“Arthur?” Merlin let himself cautiously into the royal chambers, wondering if he was about to have something thrown at his head or not. Thankfully, Arthur barely even acknowledged his presence, let alone throw anything at him. The King was sitting in front of the fire, staring into the crackling flames. Judging by the way that he only grunted in response to Merlin announcing his presence, the warlock knew that Arthur’s mind was far-away.
It was only because of that that Merlin felt brave enough to perch on the stool next to the king. Sure enough, Arthur’s eyes were almost glazed over, and although he might have been looking at the fire, it was clear that he wasn’t truly seeing it. Despite Arthur believing to the contrary, Merlin did know the right moment to stay quiet and that was what he did now. He just sat there, waiting for Arthur to say what was on his mind. He knew that should he ask, the king would shoot him down, pretending that nothing was wrong rather than accepting the fact that he was struggling to cope. Sure enough, after nearly half an hour had passed and Merlin thought that he was going to fall asleep by the fire, Arthur spoke.
“Was he right?” The words were so soft, so uncertain that Merlin felt a flash of anger cloud his mind. Uther was the only one that made Arthur sound that vulnerable, and Merlin hated the fact that his destiny didn’t stretch to protecting the king from his own mind. Thinking back to what he had been told about Arthur being his own worst enemy, Merlin was beginning to see it.
“No.” He didn’t need to ask what Arthur was referring to; he knew what the king was thinking. He was wondering whether Uther had had a point when he told his son that the kingdom was weaker than before, that Arthur was failing as a king because he was doing things differently to the way he had been taught.
“But…”
“But nothing, Arthur, your father was wrong.” There weren’t many occasions where Merlin would talk like this, or that Arthur would let him. Yet the servant knew that unless Arthur snapped himself away from these thoughts, then Uther’s work would be complete.
“Was he? He ruled for over twenty years, Merlin. War never came to Camelot unless we were betrayed from within, he was a strong leader.”
“Who most of the people hated and half lived in fear of.”
“Merlin! You can’t talk about him like that!”
“Why not?” Merlin twisted in his seat until he looked directly at his king, grateful when Arthur did meet his gaze. “You saw what he did. He was prepared to kill your wife, your knights, even you. Just to get the Camelot he thought was strong. He might not have gone to war, but neither did he have the allies that you did. You are a loved king, Arthur, accept that, you dollophead.”
For once, Arthur didn’t rise to the insult and Merlin wondered what it would take to snap Arthur out of this. To be honest, it unnerved him seeing his friend like this. Physical threats were easy for Merlin to deal with compared to trying to sort out Arthur’s head.
“Arthur, listen to me. You are a much better King than he ever was. You know why? Because the people know that you are on their side. They will come to you with grievances, allowing you to strengthen the land because they respect you, and more importantly, they don’t fear you.”
“He once told me that I couldn’t be a friend and a leader to the people.”
“And you told him he was wrong. Aggravaine told you that you had to rule alone, Arthur. You listened to him, and it almost cost you Gwen. Would you do that again?”
“No.” There was a hint of anger in Arthur’s voice now, a warning growl that Merlin had noticed made itself present every time his traitorous uncle was mentioned. That had hit Arthur hard.
“So would you listen to Uther when he tells you the same thing, just because he is your father?” Arthur stared at his servant, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time. Merlin held the gaze steadily, wondering if he had gone a step too far. Eventually, however, Arthur ran a hand through his hair and blew out a long breath, smiling softly.
“I guess you are right. I shouldn’t listen to him, he was deluded by the end, blinded by his hatred. I meant what I said, that isn’t the king I want to be.”
“It isn’t the king I would let you be.” Merlin muttered, not realising that he had said it out loud until he noticed the strange look that Arthur was giving him.
“You really think that you can influence the type of king I am, Merlin?” Merlin gave a shrug.
“Gwen came and got me, didn’t she?”
“You should talk about your queen with more respect.” Arthur said firmly, but Merlin grinned. He knew why Arthur had tried reprimanding him. It was because he didn’t have an answer to Merlin’s previous comment, and when Arthur tried changing the subject like that, it meant because if he did not, then he would have to admit that Merlin was right. Watching the king closely, Merlin felt relieved to see the heaviness that had been lining Arthur’s face seemed to have lifted slightly.
“He… he was going to tell me something about you, wasn’t he?”
This time, it was Merlin who didn’t have an answer. He only hoped that Arthur couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding. He had thought that the king had cut his father off before Uther could reveal what his servant had been hiding for all of this time, but what if that wasn’t the case?
“Yes.” Merlin said bluntly, not feeling like he had a choice. He couldn’t lie to Arthur now, not when the king had just revealed himself at such a vulnerable moment.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Now Merlin was just confused. Arthur had found out that his servant had been hiding something from him and was thanking him? Merlin had either expected to be dragged off to the dungeons or for Arthur to demand that he told him.
“For not lying to me. Everyone keeps secrets, Merlin, even me.” Merlin highly doubted that there was anything he didn’t know about Arthur, but he didn’t say anything, instead letting the king continue.
“You’ll tell me when you are ready. It wasn’t for him to give away another’s secret.”
Merlin was acutely aware that he was staring at Arthur like he had grown a second head. Maybe he didn’t know Arthur as well as he thought. He believed that he had the measure of the man, only for Arthur to come out with something like this?
The silence stretched on between them, neither man wanting to break it for fear of saying the wrong thing. For his part, Merlin found that his mind had an internal war taking place, part of it screaming at him to just tell Arthur the truth and the other half telling him to be thankful Arthur still trusted him and not push it. As the fire began to get low - Merlin was ignoring Arthur’s pointed looks to do something about it - the king finally spoke.
“I think I might turn in.”
It was such a simple sentence, just a way of breaking the silence between them, but Merlin smiled. He had grown used to Arthur’s ways over the years, and knew that when Arthur was prepared to try sleep again, he had thought about what had been plaguing him and come to a decision. Judging by how much more relaxed the king looked; Merlin only hoped that it meant that Arthur had listened to him rather than Uther. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like - he didn’t know how he would have reacted if Balinor turned up and told him he was doing it all wrong.
“Sleep well, Sire.”
“Merlin?”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Nah, can’t be bothered.” Merlin settled deeper into the chair even as he heard Arthur get into bed. It was only then that the king seemed to realise that his wife was nowhere to be seen. Judging by what Merlin had said before about Gwen fetching him and the late hour, he chuckled softly. No doubt Merlin knew that he wouldn’t have a bed to go back to if he returned to Gaius now. The physician would not have let Gwen stay up all night worrying, even if she was the queen. She was probably already asleep in Merlin’s bed. Realising that kicking Merlin out would potentially mean having his wife disturbed - again - Arthur simply huffed and threw a pillow over.
When sleep claimed both men shortly after, their dreams were spiritless and nightmare free.
FF.Net
Author: Loopstagirl
Word Count: 1888
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He had always been honest with the dragon. Merlin had hoped the favour would be returned. Apparently not.
Warning: Spoilers for ep 2 of Series 5
Merlin knew that he had to wait until Mordred had been knighted, until everything had settled down as the kingdom readjusted to having her king back. He also knew that he had to wait until Arthur stopped giving him a stupid amount of chores to do for no apparent reason. He knew why though, knew it was the monarch’s way of keeping him close, keeping an eye on him. Merlin was fully aware that he had given Arthur cause for concern during their trip to Ismere. Not only with his seeming suicide run after a dragon, but his insistence that the king killed Mordred. Merlin knew that was not like him to be the one taking the violent approach, and the look that Arthur had given him had informed him precisely what the king thought about it.
But eventually, the festivities died away and Arthur stopped looking at him as if he was expecting his servant to suddenly grow another head or something dramatic like that. It also helped that Arthur had finally been given a clean bill of health from Gaius and therefore was allowed back out onto the training fields for the first time since Morgana had stabbed and knocked him out. With Arthur distracted and beginning to sleep properly again, Merlin knew that his chance had come.
Almost three weeks after they had returned from that forsaken place, he pulled on his warmest jacket and crept out of his shared chambers. As usual, Gaius simply continued to snore, not seeming to notice that his ward was slipping out. It showed how many times Merlin had done this, for it took him almost no effort at all to duck past the guards and head out into the forest. When he reached his normal clearing, he threw back his head and roared. The rush of power flooding through his veins made him feel warmer and more alive than he had done for weeks now, and Merlin found that he was grinning as he waited for Kilgharrah to respond to his call.
It seemed to take the Great Dragon an age to arrive, but by the time that the familiar sound of wings reached Merlin’s ears, his grin had slipped. Instead, there was nothing short of anger in his expression as the beast landed in front of him, dipping his head in acknowledgement.
“For what purpose do you call me this time, young warlock?”
“Where’s Aithusa?” Merlin said bluntly, in no means to play games. As soon as he had seen the flash of white in the tunnels, he knew that it was the young dragon that was there. The one he had helped bring into this world, the one that, as a Dragonlord, he was responsible for. Kilgharrah didn’t answer him, but instead just looked long and steadily at the warlock. Eventually, he spoke.
“I assume that by the fact that you are asking me, you know full well that I do not know.” Merlin could only gape for a long moment. He had thought that the creature would have some sort of excuse, some sort of riddle as to why the youngster was far away and in the company of the one person that Kilgharrah seemed to dislike almost as much as he had done Uther. Fully aware that he was simply staring, Merlin snapped his mouth shut and began pacing in agitation.
“How long has she been missing? What didn’t you think of telling me, Aithusa is my responsibility?”
“You never asked, young warlock. And due to Albion beginning to exist now more than ever over the last few years, your need to call me have been few and far between.”
“She’s a baby! And she’s with Morgana! She can’t even speak, Kilgharrah, is that what you wanted? She’s been through something, something terrible, and it doesn’t matter that I can command you, she physically can’t tell me!”
Merlin wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased or not by the way that Kilgharrah seemed to visibly recoil, a look entering his eye that Merlin wasn’t sure he had ever seen before or not. It was almost as if he was guilty. Taking advantage of that, Merlin pressed on, looking eyes with the noble creature.
“You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you didn’t think that I would want to know? I don’t care if I haven’t needed to call you because of some sort of danger to Camelot, you could have called me. I know you can, even if you haven’t done it for years. I wouldn’t have ever met you if you hadn’t invaded my head.”
“A dragon’s path is their own, Merlin. I have no responsibility for Aithusa. If she wanted to leave, it is not in my nature to stop her. I have spent too many years as a prisoner, I will not impose it on another.”
“So instead you’ll let her go to the one person that you’ve always wanted me to kill? Morgana might not be able to command Aithusa the way that I can, but that means that Aithusa trusts her, or that she has done something to her in order for her to stay by her side.”
“If you kill the witch, then your dragon will be free.” Kilgharrah responded somewhat smugly, and Merlin let a soft warning growl emit from the back of his throat.
“You are not making this about me. Don’t you think we haven’t tried to stop Morgana? What I want to know is why Aithusa can’t speak, why she looks like she has been through the seven hells and why on earth you didn’t think to tell me that she has been gone for so long?” Merlin’s voice lowered as he spoke, and he knew that, subconsciously, his dragonlord powers were coming through. Kilgharrah had denied him answers too many times in the past, but this time, Merlin wanted to know. If he was honest, he couldn’t stop the twisting feeling of guilt from clenching in his gut. The great dragon was right, he should have asked sooner about the young one.
Kilgharrah shifted, not saying anything for a long moment. Merlin realised it wasn’t because he didn’t want to answer, but because he didn’t know how.
“What did you do?” He asked quietly, recognising the look in the dragon’s eye. It was almost the same look he could feel burning in his own eyes when he had deliberately pushed Arthur too far in order to just get a reaction. Somehow, he had a feeling that Kilgharrah knew more about why Aithusa had left than he wanted to say.
“Kilgharrah.”
“I… the young one wanted to follow you to Camelot. She kept trying to come after you, craving the contact of her dragonlord. I forbad her from doing so.” Merlin closed his eyes, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“You should have…”
“Told you, yes I suppose I should have. But I trusted a dragonlord once before, and it resulted in me spending twenty years chained in a cave at the mercy of my jailer.”
“My father was betrayed, don’t you ever talk about him like that!” Merlin didn’t even think of keeping his voice down. His emotions were too strong right now. If he wanted to yell and curse, a dragon was certainly not going to stop him.
“He was betrayed. And what is to stop your king from doing the same to you?”
“You’re the one that always spoke of what Arthur was destined for, how can you say that?”
“He is still a Pendragon. I will not let her put all her trust in you for you to be manipulated by your loyalty to the king and lead her to the same fate as I.”
“I should kill you for that.” Merlin said softly, darkly. Arthur had been right about being worried about him for the way he had behaved at Ismere. Now more than ever, Merlin was feeling the weight of his destiny crushing down on him, and he scared himself by the lengths he was now prepared to go to in order to make sure that Albion was safe.
“You should, but you won’t. Your heart is too pure; you will not hurt me, despite your powers.” Kilgharrah said softly, lowering his head to look the warlock in the eye. “I didn’t tell you that the young one had gone because it was her choice. It was her fate to explore wider worlds. And you are wrong; I did not know that she had ended up with the witch.”
“We have to get her back. “Merlin whispered, his voice losing the anger almost as quickly as it had come. Kilgharrah was right; he would never be able to do anything to hurt those he felt responsible for. But if Morgana had done anything, even told Aithusa a lie, then Merlin was going to make sure that he personally ensured that she never hurt anyone again. It was one thing for her to go after another human, but to use Aithusa… Merlin knew that being the last Dragonlord came with a responsibility, and for the first time in his life, he thought about what it would be like to be a parent.
“Can we do it? Can we bring her home?”
“Now that I know she is with the witch, I might be able to find her. If that is what you command?”
“No.” Merlin said simply, craning his neck back and looking up at the ancient and noble creature before him. “It’s what I ask. Bring Aithusa back, Kilgharrah. For Albion. For me.”
The dragon dipped his head and took flight, Merlin automatically taking a step backwards in order to maintain his balance against the huge gust of wind. He stood out there on the field, watching as the huge beast turned into a tiny speck in the sky and then disappeared altogether. Sighing, he lowered his gaze and turned his head back towards Camelot. He knew that he had to return, yet again his destiny was calling him back and if he stayed out here much longer, he would be late for work. Dawn was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and as Merlin took his first step towards home, he felt a sense of determination sink into him.
He by no means trusted Mordred, and certainly wasn’t planning on letting the Druid near Arthur without someone being there to watch them. His destiny was on the line once again, but Merlin knew what he had been doing wrong. He had grown relaxed, complacent almost, in the few years of peace they had had. That foolish belief that just because everything was okay at the time meant he didn’t have to be on guard could have potentially cost him Aithusa.
Not anymore. There was a spring in his step as he hurried back into the castle and Merlin felt his eyes glow with power and determination as he put wards in place. If the great trial for Albion had indeed begun, then Merlin was going to make sure that he met every challenge head on. He wasn’t going to let anything else be lost because he wasn’t paying attention.
And he was going to get Aithusa back and healed, no matter what it took.
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Title: Ghosts of the Past
Author: Loopstagirl
Word Count: 2826
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Uther might have been gone, but that didn't stop him from haunting Arthur's mind.
Warning: Spoilers for ep 3 of Series 5.
Gwen knew that if Arthur found out she was doing this, he would be highly embarrassed. But she didn’t see what choice she had, not considering this was the third night in a row the king had woken up drenched in sweat and shaking, calling out to a father who had ultimately betrayed him. She knew that Arthur had always had issues with his father, the need to please the late King would have once taken president over anything else that was going on. But as he had matured and grown from the prattish prince into the strong leader, she knew that Arthur had begun to see Uther in a different light.
Uther’s breakdown after Morgana’s betrayal had been what had changed him in Arthur’s view. The prince had been forced to accept that he was ready to be king, and that was what he was in all but name. Uther was no longer fit to lead, and considering he could spend days at a time just staring out of the window, refusing to touch his food and refusing to acknowledge his son, he wasn’t truly fit to be a father either. Arthur had refused to give up on him though, refused to accept that the strong yet ruthless king had gone, leaving a broken shell of a man. The way Uther had died, saving his only son, had been the first glimpse of the old king for over a year, and Gwen knew that had sparked something in Arthur.
It had given him the hope that his father might be returned to him. Yet rather than living and surviving, Uther had been taken from him just as Arthur was beginning to truly believe that the man he had looked up to his whole life was coming back. The new king had never truly been given time to grieve, having to start his new duties only the next day after Uther’s death. Gwen had seen how that was Arthur’s way of coping, and year after year on that anniversary, she had let her husband steal away in the midst of the celebrations. She pretended that all was fine, that was his way of dealing with it.
But since the spirit had crossed over, something in Arthur had changed. He seemed almost hollow, as if he had finally said something that had been on his mind for a while. Neither him nor Merlin would say precisely what had happened, and Gwen knew better to ask. For years she had believed that Merlin was not only hiding something, but that he had Arthur’s best interests at heart. And Arthur could be as detached as his father at times when it came to matters of the heart.
So that was why the Queen of Camelot could be found hurrying down a cold corridor in the darkness, only one flickering torch lighting her way. When Gwen had first realised the route she would have to travel down in order to reach Merlin, her heart had given an unusual tremor. Never before had she been scared of navigating these corridors after dark - her days as a maid meant she often hadn’t left until after night had fallen. Yet never before had she been attacked by the ghost her husband’s dead father before.
However, that was the very reason that Gwen knew she had to do this. She had to overcome her own fear in order to help Arthur. He might have been able to send Uther back to the other world, yet he was still being haunted in some way or another. The first night she had felt him jolt awake, his pants filling the silence of the room, she hadn’t thought anything of it. It had been a somewhat traumatic experience - he had gone to say goodbye only to be told that he was failing and then had had his father try and kill him. But now it was night three, Gwen knew that she had to do something about it. Arthur would never voice to anyone that he was having trouble sleeping, so she was just going to have to do it for him.
The silence of the corridors meant that the queen found herself walking faster than normal, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when a slither of light could be see flickering from underneath Gaius’ door. She hadn’t thought what she might do if they had already gone to bed, especially as there wasn’t anything physically wrong with Arthur. It was just the demons of his mind plaguing him this time, and because of that, it wasn’t the physician she had come to see.
Gwen found that old habits die hard and before she knew what she was doing, she had knocked softly on the door. Gaius’ old voice bid her to enter, yet both physician and ward blinked in surprise to see the queen standing there in the middle of the night. Merlin looked exhausted, and Gwen wondered whether perhaps Arthur was not the only one suffering here.
“Can I help you, Milady?” It had almost unnerved Gwen how easily Gaius had slipped into calling her by her official title, but this time, she felt like nothing more than the small girl who had followed him around whilst her brother learnt the tools of the trade from their father. Hesitantly, she shook her head, glancing at Merlin.
“Can Merlin help you, Gwen?” Gaius pressed, seeing where her gaze was focusing.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Merlin looked worried as he stood up, taking a small step towards her. Gwen smiled, glad that even if she was now technically his monarch, Merlin didn’t pay attention to her title any more than he did Arthur’s. It would have pained her more than words could say if her marriage had lost her a dear friend in the process.
“I’m fine. It’s…”
“Arthur?” This time, Gwen nodded.
“I think he is having nightmares over what happened. He won’t talk about them, but this is the third night that they have woken him up. I’m worried about him, Merlin.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“But… he won’t even talk to me about them.”
“It’s Arthur, he doesn’t talk to anyone if he doesn’t want to, you know what he is like.”
“Merlin?” Gaius smiled gently at seeing the look on Gwen’s face, seeing the way she was beginning to get a little agitated about the fact Merlin had yet to realise what it was that she was asking of him.
“Yes?”
“I think the queen would like it if you went to talk to him.”
“Me? What makes you think he’ll talk to me?” Merlin practically yelped, his gaze going between the two of them. “He’s more likely to throw something at me than he is talk to me.”
“And yet you were there when he encountered Uther. Go on, on with you. Now, Gwen, would you like some of this pie?” Gaius’ look stopped Merlin’s protest that that was his bit of pie and the warlock sighed.
“Always up to me.” He huffed, grabbing his jacket but heading for the door at the same time.
“What does he mean?” Gwen asked quietly, slipping onto Merlin’s previous stool. She might be a queen now, and get to sample all of the finest foods in the land, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to return to the things she had grown up knowing now and again.
“He’s just being his dramatic self.”
“I heard that!” As Merlin’s yell floated back through the open door, the queen and the physician exchanged knowing looks. Gwen found that her smile was far more genuine as she handed Gaius his own slice of the pie. She had been right coming here. If anyone could get through to Arthur, it would be his servant. Considering how exhausted Merlin had looked, maybe it would do them both good? Judging by the twinkle in Gaius’ eye, he was thinking the same thing.
MMM
“Arthur?” Merlin let himself cautiously into the royal chambers, wondering if he was about to have something thrown at his head or not. Thankfully, Arthur barely even acknowledged his presence, let alone throw anything at him. The King was sitting in front of the fire, staring into the crackling flames. Judging by the way that he only grunted in response to Merlin announcing his presence, the warlock knew that Arthur’s mind was far-away.
It was only because of that that Merlin felt brave enough to perch on the stool next to the king. Sure enough, Arthur’s eyes were almost glazed over, and although he might have been looking at the fire, it was clear that he wasn’t truly seeing it. Despite Arthur believing to the contrary, Merlin did know the right moment to stay quiet and that was what he did now. He just sat there, waiting for Arthur to say what was on his mind. He knew that should he ask, the king would shoot him down, pretending that nothing was wrong rather than accepting the fact that he was struggling to cope. Sure enough, after nearly half an hour had passed and Merlin thought that he was going to fall asleep by the fire, Arthur spoke.
“Was he right?” The words were so soft, so uncertain that Merlin felt a flash of anger cloud his mind. Uther was the only one that made Arthur sound that vulnerable, and Merlin hated the fact that his destiny didn’t stretch to protecting the king from his own mind. Thinking back to what he had been told about Arthur being his own worst enemy, Merlin was beginning to see it.
“No.” He didn’t need to ask what Arthur was referring to; he knew what the king was thinking. He was wondering whether Uther had had a point when he told his son that the kingdom was weaker than before, that Arthur was failing as a king because he was doing things differently to the way he had been taught.
“But…”
“But nothing, Arthur, your father was wrong.” There weren’t many occasions where Merlin would talk like this, or that Arthur would let him. Yet the servant knew that unless Arthur snapped himself away from these thoughts, then Uther’s work would be complete.
“Was he? He ruled for over twenty years, Merlin. War never came to Camelot unless we were betrayed from within, he was a strong leader.”
“Who most of the people hated and half lived in fear of.”
“Merlin! You can’t talk about him like that!”
“Why not?” Merlin twisted in his seat until he looked directly at his king, grateful when Arthur did meet his gaze. “You saw what he did. He was prepared to kill your wife, your knights, even you. Just to get the Camelot he thought was strong. He might not have gone to war, but neither did he have the allies that you did. You are a loved king, Arthur, accept that, you dollophead.”
For once, Arthur didn’t rise to the insult and Merlin wondered what it would take to snap Arthur out of this. To be honest, it unnerved him seeing his friend like this. Physical threats were easy for Merlin to deal with compared to trying to sort out Arthur’s head.
“Arthur, listen to me. You are a much better King than he ever was. You know why? Because the people know that you are on their side. They will come to you with grievances, allowing you to strengthen the land because they respect you, and more importantly, they don’t fear you.”
“He once told me that I couldn’t be a friend and a leader to the people.”
“And you told him he was wrong. Aggravaine told you that you had to rule alone, Arthur. You listened to him, and it almost cost you Gwen. Would you do that again?”
“No.” There was a hint of anger in Arthur’s voice now, a warning growl that Merlin had noticed made itself present every time his traitorous uncle was mentioned. That had hit Arthur hard.
“So would you listen to Uther when he tells you the same thing, just because he is your father?” Arthur stared at his servant, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time. Merlin held the gaze steadily, wondering if he had gone a step too far. Eventually, however, Arthur ran a hand through his hair and blew out a long breath, smiling softly.
“I guess you are right. I shouldn’t listen to him, he was deluded by the end, blinded by his hatred. I meant what I said, that isn’t the king I want to be.”
“It isn’t the king I would let you be.” Merlin muttered, not realising that he had said it out loud until he noticed the strange look that Arthur was giving him.
“You really think that you can influence the type of king I am, Merlin?” Merlin gave a shrug.
“Gwen came and got me, didn’t she?”
“You should talk about your queen with more respect.” Arthur said firmly, but Merlin grinned. He knew why Arthur had tried reprimanding him. It was because he didn’t have an answer to Merlin’s previous comment, and when Arthur tried changing the subject like that, it meant because if he did not, then he would have to admit that Merlin was right. Watching the king closely, Merlin felt relieved to see the heaviness that had been lining Arthur’s face seemed to have lifted slightly.
“He… he was going to tell me something about you, wasn’t he?”
This time, it was Merlin who didn’t have an answer. He only hoped that Arthur couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding. He had thought that the king had cut his father off before Uther could reveal what his servant had been hiding for all of this time, but what if that wasn’t the case?
“Yes.” Merlin said bluntly, not feeling like he had a choice. He couldn’t lie to Arthur now, not when the king had just revealed himself at such a vulnerable moment.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Now Merlin was just confused. Arthur had found out that his servant had been hiding something from him and was thanking him? Merlin had either expected to be dragged off to the dungeons or for Arthur to demand that he told him.
“For not lying to me. Everyone keeps secrets, Merlin, even me.” Merlin highly doubted that there was anything he didn’t know about Arthur, but he didn’t say anything, instead letting the king continue.
“You’ll tell me when you are ready. It wasn’t for him to give away another’s secret.”
Merlin was acutely aware that he was staring at Arthur like he had grown a second head. Maybe he didn’t know Arthur as well as he thought. He believed that he had the measure of the man, only for Arthur to come out with something like this?
The silence stretched on between them, neither man wanting to break it for fear of saying the wrong thing. For his part, Merlin found that his mind had an internal war taking place, part of it screaming at him to just tell Arthur the truth and the other half telling him to be thankful Arthur still trusted him and not push it. As the fire began to get low - Merlin was ignoring Arthur’s pointed looks to do something about it - the king finally spoke.
“I think I might turn in.”
It was such a simple sentence, just a way of breaking the silence between them, but Merlin smiled. He had grown used to Arthur’s ways over the years, and knew that when Arthur was prepared to try sleep again, he had thought about what had been plaguing him and come to a decision. Judging by how much more relaxed the king looked; Merlin only hoped that it meant that Arthur had listened to him rather than Uther. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like - he didn’t know how he would have reacted if Balinor turned up and told him he was doing it all wrong.
“Sleep well, Sire.”
“Merlin?”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Nah, can’t be bothered.” Merlin settled deeper into the chair even as he heard Arthur get into bed. It was only then that the king seemed to realise that his wife was nowhere to be seen. Judging by what Merlin had said before about Gwen fetching him and the late hour, he chuckled softly. No doubt Merlin knew that he wouldn’t have a bed to go back to if he returned to Gaius now. The physician would not have let Gwen stay up all night worrying, even if she was the queen. She was probably already asleep in Merlin’s bed. Realising that kicking Merlin out would potentially mean having his wife disturbed - again - Arthur simply huffed and threw a pillow over.
When sleep claimed both men shortly after, their dreams were spiritless and nightmare free.
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