Fic: Harmonia Mundi (Merlin/Arthur, R): Part 6

Aug 01, 2011 18:27

Part Six


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Merlin woke to darkness. He blinked blearily and rubbed at his eyes, letting the familiar music of camp wash over him. He could hear Lancelot sleeping nearby, his soft water-song a soothing counterpoint to the blanket-and-bedroll harmony of the tent and the music of the forest beyond.

Outside, he could hear Arthur and Gwaine. There might have been a fire there as well, and given they were camping in the woods there probably was.

Merlin couldn’t remember why they were camping, though, or where they were. Was it a quest of some kind? He probed his sleep-muddled mind, wondering why he ached all over, and then sat bolt upright as memories came flooding back. Lancelot made a soft grumbling sound, but Merlin wasn’t paying any attention.

He remembered the messenger from Ealdor, and the mist, and then Morgause, and Morgana, and Mordred. He shuddered then, mind skittering away from the memory of that horrific silence. Nothing could ever be worse than that, not anything. Even if Arthur… and then he gasped, realising - Arthur knew. Arthur had come to rescue him, and Morgause had told him about the magic.

And Arthur - Arthur had released him. Merlin felt pleasure wash over him at that memory, of Arthur setting him free, giving him back the music.

But that was a life-and-death situation, and Merlin had no idea if being willing to condone magic for the express purpose of defeating evil was the same as accepting it in Merlin. Accepting it in - in whatever they were to each other, for now and for the foreseeable future together. If they did have a future together.

There was a noise from outside - Arthur was speaking, and Gwaine was replying, though Merlin couldn’t make out the words. And then Arthur was moving away, his music getting fainter, and before he could think better of it Merlin scrabbled to follow.

Lancelot gave a snort and rolled over, and Merlin froze. He didn’t want to deal with his friend’s well-meaning concern right now, not until he knew how things stood with Arthur. As quietly as he could, he picked his way to the flap and slipped outside.

Gwaine looked up from his seat by the campfire. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

Merlin stared at him, eyes wide, distracted by the harmony of Gwaine-and-woods-and-fire, and it took him a moment to realise what had been said. “Oh! Um. I - I just….”

Gwaine smiled, a kind and somewhat self-deprecating smile, and nodded towards the treeline. “Arthur went that way.”

“Thank you!” Merlin said, already moving in the direction Gwaine had indicated, and then he paused. “I’m sorry. For - for everything.”

Gwaine just nodded. ”I know. Go, Merlin.”

Merlin went.

Arthur had only a few minutes head start, but he was moving fast. If Merlin hadn’t had the distinct advantage of being able to follow the bright fire-song he would probably have gotten thoroughly lost in the confusing tangle of trees. But instead he followed the music until he emerged into a small clearing where Arthur was standing alone, staring at the sky.

Merlin paused at the edge of the trees but Arthur had already heard him, was turning with his naked sword gleaming in his hands. When he saw who it was he snorted and moved to sheath the blade, but then paused. Merlin could see the shadow of memory flicker across Arthur’s face, and instead of sheathing the weapon, the prince just let his arm fall, softly-humming blade still held tight in his grip.

“Honestly, Merlin, are you incapable of being quiet? And you shouldn’t be here. You need to rest.” His voice was distant, not at all the usual tone he used when teasing Merlin for his lack of stealth.

Merlin took a step forward. “I…” he started, and then found he had no idea what he wanted to say.

“Yes. You,” Arthur said heavily. He let out a deep sigh, and ran his free hand through his hair. “Go back to camp, Merlin. You aren’t in any state for this conversation.”

Merlin took another step forward. “It .. it’s easier, around you. To rest.”

Arthur shot him a strange look. “Around me?”

Merlin remembered, suddenly, that Arthur didn’t know about the music - just about the magic. “Um.”

Arthur kept staring at him, and Merlin couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. He looked down, and kept his eyes on the ground as he moved to stand a short distance from Arthur. “There - there’s kind of more to it than Morgause told you. Um. Not that I can really remember what she said, I was - not really myself. My mind was - well. You saw.”

The fact that Arthur did not follow this with an insult about Merlin’s normal state of mind was almost a physical blow, and Merlin couldn’t help but flinch.

The silence lengthened between them, and then Arthur spoke again. “So it is true, then. You’ve been using magic for as long as you can remember, and you just - never got around to mentioning it. It just - slipped your mind when you chose to come to Camelot, where sorcery is forbidden on pain of death.”

Merlin stayed quiet.

“You never thought that, oh, serving the crown prince of Camelot while being a sorcerer was perhaps something of a poor choice? Why on earth would you take that risk?” Arthur’s voice hardened. “Or did you have a plan? Was there some elaborate scheme, Merlin, where you were going to infiltrate the heart of the monarchy and ensorcel the heir, establish a puppet on the throne? Rule Camelot through me?” Arthur’s voice cracked and he stopped, breath coming fast. After a moment, he demanded in a low, hard voice, “Why, Merlin?”

“Because you’re my destiny, you prat!” Merlin burst out. “That’s what it’s all for - the music, and the magic, all of it! It’s all to serve you, because you are going to be the greatest king Albion has ever known and bring a time of great peace. Morgana was trying to make it her instead, but it never could be. It’s you.”

Arthur just stared at him, and Merlin kept going. “Have you ever heard of the world-song?”

Arthur, blinked, looking a little confused by the apparent change of topics, but to Merlin’s surprise, he nodded. ”The harmonia mundi. One of our nurses told us the story. It was Morgana’s favourite. She - the nurse - she was burned for witchcraft when I was twelve.” His voice hardened. “What has a child’s fairy-tale have to do with anything?”

“I can hear it,” Merlin said in a rush. “The music. I always have, for as long as I can remember. It’s always been there. Every single thing in the whole world. I can hear them all.”

Whatever Arthur had been expecting, this evidently wasn’t it. He stared at Merlin open-mouthed. “You can hear - you can hear it? All of it?”

Merlin smiled, letting the symphony wash through him, beautiful and glorious and strong. “Yes.”

“And the magic…?”

“The magic is just a tiny part of it. Of the music. Gods, Arthur, it’s so beautiful. So utterly amazing, and the shackles took it away,” Merlin felt tears pick his eyes at the memory, and he swiped at them angrily. “I couldn’t hear it. It was like - like being dead. I just - ” he trailed off, looking at the ground, waiting for Arthur’s response to this revelation.

“Right,” Arthur’s voice was still cold. “You have all this power, and you can hear this legendary music, and it’s all for - for this great destiny that we’re supposed to have?”

“Yes!” Merlin couldn’t help the relief in his voice, now that Arthur knew. Surely he would understand. But Arthur was still glaring at him. “And you are destined to serve me when I am king of Camelot?”

“Yes!”

“So if your magic is to serve me, you will do as I command.”

There was an undercurrent to this question that Merlin didn’t understand, but he raised his chin. “Yes.”

Arthur reached into his belt-pouch, and there was a soft clinking as he drew something out. He held out one hand, and Merlin went still. He knew that song. Arthur uncurled his fingers to reveal the silver bracelets, eerie twining song humming an insidious counterpoint to Arthur’s own bright music.

Arthur’s voice was very, very soft. “If I order you to put on these restraints, to ensure your magic will not be used against Camelot, would you do it?”

The sound, the sight of the slim, elegant shackles had sent a shockwave of sheer terror through Merlin, and he felt as though every muscle in his body had frozen. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even blink. All he could do was stand there, listening to the songs of the trees, of the undergrowth, of the beetles in the grass, of the stars and the clouds and Arthur, bright, beautiful Arthur, who was asking him to give this up.

To live dead, to prove he could be trusted.

Every fibre of his being rebelled against the idea. To never again hear the dawn, the busy chaos of the market or the steadfast strength of Camelot. To go without the bubbling of Gaius’s workshop and the harmony of the knights in formation, without Gwen’s happy melody or Gwaine’s cheeky birdsong. Just the idea of giving it all up was so unspeakably horrifying that Merlin couldn’t bear to contemplate it.

But - Arthur was asking him. Arthur wanted him to prove his loyalty, to show that he would give up everything he loved because his king demanded it.

To never hear Arthur’s song again.

Arthur was watching him with shadows in his eyes, hand still extended, the shackles resting in his palm.

Merlin had offered his life for Arthur’s, had been prepared to die for him countless times before, but this… this was infinitely, immeasurably worse. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

But Arthur was asking.

Merlin had to force his muscles to move, to stretch out his arms and hold his suddenly-sweaty hands, palm up, next to Arthur’s. His red-raw, still blood-stained wrists crawled with anticipation, as though they were about to be branded with hot coals instead of touched by cool, humming metal.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him to jerk away, to flee the promise of a living death that was contained in Arthur’s palm, but Merlin held his wrists in place and stared into Arthur’s eyes. “Yes.”

Something changed then, and all the tension seemed to go out of the space between them. Arthur jerked his hand away, dropped the shackles as though they had burnt him and staring at Merlin as though he had never seen him before. “You would…. For me.”

Merlin just watched him, a little confused, arms still held outstretched between them.

Arthur reached out a shaking hand. “Merlin.”

Merlin looked down at the shackles still humming on the bare earth, and then back up at Arthur. His voice was high and unsteady as he said, “You’re - you’re not - ”

“No. No, I could never … I saw what it did to you. But you would. For me. If I asked it.”

The relief was a physical blow. Merlin crumpled to the ground. Huge, gasping sobs wracking his whole body as the tide of emotion overwhelmed him, and he brought his hands up to wipe the salty, stinging, softly chiming tears from his eyes.

“Merlin. Oh, gods, Merlin.” Arthur knelt beside him, and then his hands were on Merlin, rubbing his back, touching his arm, pushing the hair back from his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But I had to know. I had to. And you, you. Merlin.”

Merlin kept sobbing, taking deep gulping breaths, unable to stop the shaking as he tried to swallow against the tears that poured down his face. And Arthur was right there, sounding so perfect, pulling Merlin in and holding him close as he wept. Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder and let all the horror and terror and despair of the last few days pour out as Arthur held him and murmured softly against his hair.

Sometime later, Merlin pulled away, hiccuping a little as he wiped his eyes. “M’sorry.”

Arthur loosened his grip and sat back. “Don’t apologise. I - I wish…”

“I know.” It was a watery smile that he offered, but it was the best he could manage.

Arthur smiled back. “The music of the world. Really? I mean, I always thought it was a nice fable for children, not actually real.”

Merlin hiccuped a laugh. “Oh, yes. You can’t even imagine it.”

Arthur frowned slightly. “Is that what happened to Morgana and the others? The music, somehow? Morgana kept saying that it was too loud, before she ...” he trailed off, looking away.

Merlin swallowed. “Um. Yes. I - I made them hear it, all of it, and I think it drove them mad. It always has in the past, anyone who tries to hear it - there’s a spell, but no one has managed it in years, and I don’t think people try any more. Not after so many sorcerers have lost their minds.”

“Right.” Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, and Merlin tried not to look like an evil, horrible wizard who liked driving people insane. After a moment, Arthur continued, “So basically, further proof that you’re mad, then.”

It was easy to smile at that. “Shut up, you prat.”

Arthur laughed, and Merlin couldn’t help grinning at him for a moment before letting the expression fall away. A thought occurred to him. “I could show you, if you like.”

Arthur looked at him warily. “Didn’t you just tell me it drives people mad? I like my mind as is, thanks.”

“No! Well, yes, if there’s too much of it. But there wouldn’t be. I can control it now, I think.”

“You think.”

“I can. Let me show you. Please?”

Arthur took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “All right.”

Merlin couldn’t help but grin at the rush of pleasure at that, at Arthur’s trust. Reaching out, he took Arthur’s hand in his, feeling the warm, dry calluses and hearing the bright song that seemed to radiate from Arthur’s skin. He took a breath himself, and let his eyes fall shut.

It was easy, surprisingly so, to find one simple song and push it towards the resonance that was Arthur. He chose the stars, the high cold ringing melody chiming in his mind as he sent it twining into Arthur’s hand.

Arthur gasped. “Oh. That - that is… oh, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled. “That’s the stars.”

“I can’t believe it. They sound - I can’t even begin to describe it.” He sat for a while, a distant smile on his face as he listened. Merlin let the music flow through him, keeping the single melody playing for Arthur as he relaxed in the complex harmony that was the prince in the forest under a star-bright sky.

After a time, Merlin asked, “Would you like to hear what you sound like?”

“Me? I have a song?” Arthur sounded distant and incredulous, and Merlin knew he was still distracted by the music. He slowly drew it back, and had to hide a smile at Arthur’s disappointed huff.

“Of course you have a song. Everyone has a song.”

“Oh. I’d like to hear mine, then.”

Merlin smiled, and let the bright spring-and-fire resonance twine through him and into Arthur.

Arthur gasped. “That - that’s me?”

“Yes. It sounds a bit like fire, and a bit like the coming of the springtime. Do you like it?”

“I… I can’t believe it. It’s incredible. That’s really me?”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at the startled pleasure in Arthur’s voice. “Yes, that’s you. No one else I’ve ever met sounds like you do; no one else even comes close. It’s beautiful. Your music. There’s nothing else like it in the world.”

Arthur was looking at him again, and there was something in his eyes that made Merlin’s skin feel too tight, made his stomach twist into knots. And then Arthur was leaning forward, and his hand was in Merlin’s hair, pulling Merlin forward and pressing their mouths together in a kiss.

Merlin had an instant of startled surprise, but Arthur’s lips were warm against his, and he leaned in to kiss Arthur back. He could taste the lingering salt from his tears on Arthur’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur murmured, pulling back to rest his forehead against Merlin’s.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for this,” Merlin told him, running a hand down Arthur’s warm back. He felt Arthur’s smile curve against his cheek, and tugged him in to be kissed again.

Some too-short length of time later, Merlin’s stomach grumbled loudly. Arthur pulled away with a soft laugh. “You need food. And a bath.”

Merlin huffed in disappointment but he couldn’t disagree. Now that he thought about it, his skin crawled at how filthy he felt, and he knew he probably smelled worse. Food sounded wonderful, but for that they’d have to go back to the camp, and Merlin didn’t feel like he was ready to face the others again. He didn’t want to end the comfortable happiness that was him and Arthur alone together.

“Wash first,” he decided, trying to stand and nearly overbalancing. Arthur reached out and steadied him, and then stood and helped him to his feet. Merlin smiled his thanks, and then turned towards the water he could hear a short distance away.

“Merlin? Where are you going?” Arthur sounded confused, and Merlin turned back to blink at him in puzzlement.

“To the stream. Aren’t you coming?”

“How do you know there’s a stream there?”

Merlin grinned. “I can hear it, of course. Come on.”

Arthur huffed, and then shoved Merlin’s shoulder when he caught up. “And you never thought to share this incredibly useful skill with us before? How many times have we gone searching for water when you could have just told us where it was?”

Merlin shot him a glare. “And how would I have explained it?”

Arthur shrugged, and Merlin shoved him back. This turned into a small tussling match, and then somehow Merlin was being thrown into the stream, fully clothed and sputtering with indignation while Arthur laughed.

“Ahhh, cold! You are such a prat!” Merlin grumbled, reaching out to tickle the water-music towards warmth.

Arthur stopped laughing, eyes wide. “You - your eyes. Do they always…?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Merlin said, wallowing in the now gloriously-warm stream. “Mmm, that’s nice,” he murmured, and ducked under the softly-humming water, running his hands through his hair and letting the music wash over him gently.

That was when he realised - the music wasn’t overwhelming him anymore. Something had changed, something small but vital, and he knew he would never get lost in the music again. It was like a key had been fitted into a lock, somewhere deep in his mind, turning to unlock something so far inside him that Merlin hadn’t even known existed and suddenly everything had changed. A ball of fear, a knot of tension and terror, once rooted in fear of discovery and death, and later so entwined with the fear of losing Arthur that the two were one indistinguishable, overwhelming knot of anxiety that Merlin had been carrying for so many years he had forgotten that it existed.

He was so used to that fear that the unexpected easing of it was dizzying, and he knew, suddenly and with complete clarity, that he would never get lost in the music again. His magic had been trying to stop that fear, and the music was the only way it knew to try to take the negative emotions away - or at least ensure he didn’t care about them anymore.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice cut through his thoughts, through the water and the music. He sounded suddenly much closer, and worried.

Merlin pushed himself up, breaking the surface and gasping for air, unable to stop the smile that stretched his face when he realised Arthur was right there, in the stream, looking relieved.

“You - I thought you…” Arthur swallowed and looked away. “Why is the water so warm?”

“Magic,” Merlin told him, still smiling. He reached out and touched Arthur’s face, happiness flooding through him. The music was singing a triumphant chorus around them, and Arthur was staring at him, eyes wide and happy, like he’d just been gifted with the moon and the stars both. And suddenly Merlin had to kiss Arthur rather desperately, so he did.

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Epilogue

merlin, fic: merlin, fic: harmonia mundi, paperlegends big bang, merlin/arthur

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