The Traitor (Chapter 1)
Fandom: Merlin
Tittle: The Traitor
Pairing: ArthurxMerlin
Warning: Slash
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters.
Summary: Uther Pendragon was a traitor. Arthur had expected that his father's reputation would come to haunt him. What he didn't expect was a letter from his father telling him to find Merlin. ArthurxMerlin. AU.
Inspired by Andy McNab's awesome book series. That you should go read now.
Chapter Summary: Arthur knew something was wrong when a) The Council called for him b) A lake talked to him c) His father finally contacted him after eighteen years of absence.
Arthur was finishing his last lap when his instructor signaled him to stop and take it in the house.
The others had left, but Arthur always liked to stay behind and run a couple of extra laps, just to show the instructor and senior instructor that he was capable of a promotion and, he secretly hoped, a scholarship to Camelot Military Academy by the time he graduate. He knew that he had a bright future ahead of him.
At eighteen, he was at the top of his senior class at Camelot Junior Academy, a military high school. Since he was little, he had always wanted to work in one of Government's executive agencies or join the military. As long as he chose either of those choices, his life would be stable. Working for the private sector worried him: whenever the economy took a bad turn, the private sector could barely hold itself together.
Besides, Arthur liked the sense of orderliness of Government and Military. Albion's rigid political structure allowed stability and peace for the people, even in times of discord.
For all eighteen years of his life, Arthur had been raised by the State as a dependent ward. It was a tough life without the guidance of a father or a mother, but he managed just fine without them. The State made sure of that.
"Pendragon," the instructor said to Arthur when he was walking toward the locker room, hardly tired from twenty laps. "Report to the Council. They want to talk to you."
"Yes sir," Arthur said, wondering what the Council would want with him. Usually, members of the Council would pass messages down the chain of command, and since Arthur was only a student, he would never get to see their faces unless he got promoted to an officer twenty years from now.
Therefore, whatever business the Council wanted from him could be either extremely good or extremely bad. Arthur braced himself for the worst. He had to stay calm: one of the unspoken rule of this military school was to keep a confident front at all times, even in danger. Arthur was not going to make a fool of himself by being overly nervous.
It was hard to remember that when he was sitting in the lobby while Sophia, the secretary, shot him several looks, her pink lips pulling up into a flirty smile. Arthur looked away. Sophia was hot, but even he wasn't that desperate. Everyone knew what she had done to Valiant when they broke up.
Arthur didn't bother to hide his distaste for the woman when she signaled him to enter the Council's meeting room. "Good luck," Sophia sang, the high pitch note made foreboding rolled in his stomach.
When he heard of "the Council," he had thought that he would actually be meeting a council, as in a group of people type of council. What he did not expect was to find himself alone with Ms. Nimueh once the large wooden door shut behind him.
Nimueh, dressed in her usual deep red suit, occupied the end of a long rectangular table. She leaned back and crossed her legs, scrutinizing him. Arthur straightened himself, resting both of his hands behind his back to appear relax.
Nimueh smirked, her deep blue eyes darkened with amusement, "Sit down, Arthur." She gestured to a chair. "I am Nimueh," she offered a short introduction of herself and no more. Nimueh was right to assume that was all Arthur needed.
Everyone in the school knew who Nimueh was. They had all seen her familiar red suit hovering around campus and heard her heels clicking down the hallway. While the Council was an unfamiliar entity, high and powerful and unreachable as it was, Nimueh was pure authority, earning respect from familiarity and closeness with the student body. Yet, as Arthur sat down, Nimueh's presence at the other end of the long table was nearly frightening.
Before Arthur could ask, Nimueh said, "I am the Speaker of the Council, Arthur. The members adjourned at my request." That explained everything. The Council was nothing but a puppet. It was clear who hold the power in this school.
"Arthur Pendragon," Nimueh opened a brown manila file on her desk. "You have excellent record. Your test scores are high; your grades are in the top 10% of your class, and your physical training score is perfect."
"Thank you, ma'am," Arthur bowed respectfully. Even though she was praising him, something in her tone was troubling.
"Yet," Nimueh continued. "It would be impossible for you to get a promotion and a scholarship to Camelot Military Academy."
Arthur was stunned. But that couldn't be! Just as she said, he was one of the top students of this school. He deserved that promotion and that scholarship. He needed them. His future depended on them. Arthur will never be able to live on his own without a job or a proper education.
Despite his attempt to mask his panic, it must have shown through his eyes, because Nimueh's smirk was back. Victory! It seemed to say.
When Arthur's questioning gaze was on her, she clarified, "Despite your qualifications, Arthur, no one in their right mind would ever consider giving anything to a Pendragon."
Arthur swallowed. Of course. The chance that he had worked so hard for simply dissipated at the mention of his name. Pendragon.
Arthur clenched his fist, trying to control his anger. All of his life, he had lost numerous opportunities just because he was born with that name. When Arthur was younger, the fact that his father was a traitor to Camelot had left him parentless and friendless. Now that he was older, it was about to make him homeless and futureless as well.
He had to do something: anything in order to grasp that tiny thread of hope.
"I believe, Ms. Nimueh, that if I was to be judged, it would be based on the strength of my character and not on the circumstances of my birth."
"Well said," Nimueh said, the smirk not leaving her face. "If only your father would have the same conviction and doctrine as his noble son." She sounded as if she was mocking him. "Because then, you wouldn't have to sit here without a future, hmmm?"
Arthur took in a deep breath. If he was going to try anything to save whatever chance he had, this would be the moment to do it.
"Ms. Nimueh, I assumed that you are different from my father," Arthur said, and at her raised eyebrow, he continued. "So you would not judge me based on the actions of my father, but rather, on my own actions." He paused; this next part was hard. "I am willing to do anything to prove to you and the Council that I deserve that promotion and that scholarship."
The gleam in Nimueh's eyes almost made Arthur regret saying anything. He felt as if he had just walked into a trap: that he had signed a binding contract and sealed his fate.
However, it was too late to change back now.
"Your father was a traitor to this country," Nimueh said. "During his time in Government, he had promoted anti-magic sentiment and raised a military force that threatened the security of the State. When his quest failed, he went into hiding."
Arthur did not even blink. He had heard all of this before, in numerous TV campaigns and textbooks. He was raised with this information drilled into his head.
"For years, the Government had tried to catch him," she continued. "But he disappeared without a trace, with nothing of his old life left behind, except…."
Nimueh didn't need to finish that sentence, Arthur already knew. It was a miracle, everyone had said, that Uther Pendragon, who had erased all traces of his old life, including his wife and all of his possessions, had left his son alive. There wasn't even a single picture of Uther Pendragon left anywhere.
"You are going to be of age today, Arthur. There is a strong possibility that your father might try to contact you. We want you to notify us right away when that happens." Nimueh then delivered that final blow. "You're a bright young man, Arthur. Don't let your father hinders you from achieving your goals in life."
Arthur nodded, "Yes ma'am." He tried to sound enthusiastic even though he was feeling sick inside.
"What's wrong?" Lance asked, leaning in so that his voice would not be carried away by the loud music. "You hated drinking."
"Nothing," Arthur shrugged, sipping more of the beer. It tasted awful, but he swallowed it down anyway.
Since today was his eighteenth birthday, Morgana, Gwen, Lance, and a group of other friends had dragged him to a bar and celebrate his "becoming a man by finally reaching the drinking age." Arthur hated drinking, but he gave in to his friends' request after abandoning them for a month to prepare for testing.
"Really? Because you have been sulking ever since we got here," Morgana chimed in, Gwen right beside her with a couple more drinks. "You didn't even blink when Vivian rubbed her breasts all over your arm."
"Not interested," Arthur said dryly. "And I was not sulking."
Despite his protest, Morgana rolled her eyes in a way that implied that yes, he indeed was sulking. Gwen snorted, "You're obviously sulking like a little girl." Then, she hastily added when Arthur gave her a look, "N-Not that you're a girl of course. I just meant that you're acting like a girl. N-Not that there's anything wrong with being a girl of course. It's just that, well…."
Morgana laughed, "Gwen, you don't have to try so hard. We know."
Gwen blushed, and the red on her face only deepened when Lance reached for her hand and grasped it in his. Arthur rolled his eyes. These two were sickeningly sweet.
The whole night passed by like a blur, and before he knew it, he was being dragged outside by Morgana, Gwen, and Lance. They sat him down onto the sidewalk while Morgana whistled for a taxi and the other two went back into the club to find Gwen's purse.
Arthur was happy, warm, and content. Humanity was amazing. Of course, the alcohol might have something to do with it, but he wasn't going to be picky.
It took Arthur a while, but after a moment of concentration, he could hear someone calling him from his right. He turned. There was no one there.
Arthur Pendragon. The voice whispered again.
Oh. Arthur knew this voice. He remembered it well. It was his friend, yes, his friend. He remembered now. Perfectly well, in fact.
Arthur.
I'm coming, I'm coming. He thought. Wait for me.
He was near the voice, he knew. Now, if he could just reach closer.
Arthur.
I'm almost there. He told the voice. I'm almos-
"Arthur!" Morgana's shout snapped Arthur from his daze, her arms, surprisingly strong, yanked him backward. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"
That was enough to sober him up. He looked at Morgana's fearful, angry face with confusion. "Wha-"
"Arthur!" Gwen and Lance ran toward them, barely catching their breaths. "Arthur, are you alright?"
"What happened?" he asked.
"YOU WERE ABOUT TO JUMP INTO THE LAKE!" Morgana screeched. Her perfect hair and clothes were in disarray, and her eyes, normally composed, were in panic.
"What? No I didn-" Arthur turned around to meet the sight of the broken railing, and beyond it, the Great Lake shrouded in darkness. "How?"
"I don't know! One minute you were right next to me and the next…." Morgana swallowed, unable to finish her sentence.
"We just got out of the club when we saw Morgana running after you, " Gwen said. "She was shouting for you, but you just kept running toward the lake."
"I-I…." Arthur was at a loss for words. He was looking for something, wasn't he? There was a voice, and….
That something was waiting for him. He had promised to get to it, but he failed. He had promised.
"Arthur, you alright, mate?" Lance clasped him in the back.
"I…." was all Arthur said before throwing up all over Lance's shoes.
It was Saturday morning when Arthur woke up, his head pounding from a hangover, with no memory of what happened the night before.
Treading slowly into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out the carton of orange juice. Since there was nothing else edible, he would have to head down to the chow hall later. Orange juice would have to do. Arthur began to chug some down until he accidentally choke and coughed the juice all over the kitchen counter.
"Shit," Arthur cursed when he saw orange splats staining numerous envelopes that were scattered carelessly by Galahad yesterday afternoon. He quickly grabbed some napkins from pizza night two days ago and wiped the juice from the letters. Well, the stains were not that noticeable. Besides, all of the other guys, saved for Lance, were sloppy people as well, so they wouldn't mind if he made a mess.
Arthur was about to put the orange juice carton back in the fridge before heading out for breakfast when an envelope caught his eyes. He set the carton onto the counter, tossed the dirty napkins out before picking up the letter. Sure enough, it was an envelope addressed to an Arthur Pendragon.
In all eighteen years of his life, Arthur never had a single letter addressed to him that was not a message from the State regarding his dependency status. This letter was different.
It was actually a normal, white envelope: one of those kinds that his friends received from their parents once in a while as Arthur watched with envy, wishing that he had parents who would meddle with his life and nag him about finding a girlfriend or having safe sex.
Suddenly, Nimueh's words came back to him: You are going to be of age today, Arthur. There is a strong possibility that your father might try to contact you. We want you to notify us right away when that happens.
Could it be…?
There was no sender's name or address on it, just a neat, handwritten Arthur Pendragon. With haste, Arthur opened the envelope. He unfolded the letter inside, anticipation pounding in his chest.
The only thing written on the paper was:
Find Merlin.
-Uther Pendragon
Chapter 2
Tittle: The Traitor
Pairing: ArthurxMerlin
Warning: Slash
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters.
Summary: Uther Pendragon was a traitor. Arthur had expected that his father's reputation would come to haunt him. What he didn't expect was a letter from his father telling him to find Merlin. ArthurxMerlin. AU.
Inspired by Andy McNab's awesome book series. That you should go read now.
Chapter Summary: Arthur knew something was wrong when a) The Council called for him b) A lake talked to him c) His father finally contacted him after eighteen years of absence.
Arthur was finishing his last lap when his instructor signaled him to stop and take it in the house.
The others had left, but Arthur always liked to stay behind and run a couple of extra laps, just to show the instructor and senior instructor that he was capable of a promotion and, he secretly hoped, a scholarship to Camelot Military Academy by the time he graduate. He knew that he had a bright future ahead of him.
At eighteen, he was at the top of his senior class at Camelot Junior Academy, a military high school. Since he was little, he had always wanted to work in one of Government's executive agencies or join the military. As long as he chose either of those choices, his life would be stable. Working for the private sector worried him: whenever the economy took a bad turn, the private sector could barely hold itself together.
Besides, Arthur liked the sense of orderliness of Government and Military. Albion's rigid political structure allowed stability and peace for the people, even in times of discord.
For all eighteen years of his life, Arthur had been raised by the State as a dependent ward. It was a tough life without the guidance of a father or a mother, but he managed just fine without them. The State made sure of that.
"Pendragon," the instructor said to Arthur when he was walking toward the locker room, hardly tired from twenty laps. "Report to the Council. They want to talk to you."
"Yes sir," Arthur said, wondering what the Council would want with him. Usually, members of the Council would pass messages down the chain of command, and since Arthur was only a student, he would never get to see their faces unless he got promoted to an officer twenty years from now.
Therefore, whatever business the Council wanted from him could be either extremely good or extremely bad. Arthur braced himself for the worst. He had to stay calm: one of the unspoken rule of this military school was to keep a confident front at all times, even in danger. Arthur was not going to make a fool of himself by being overly nervous.
It was hard to remember that when he was sitting in the lobby while Sophia, the secretary, shot him several looks, her pink lips pulling up into a flirty smile. Arthur looked away. Sophia was hot, but even he wasn't that desperate. Everyone knew what she had done to Valiant when they broke up.
Arthur didn't bother to hide his distaste for the woman when she signaled him to enter the Council's meeting room. "Good luck," Sophia sang, the high pitch note made foreboding rolled in his stomach.
When he heard of "the Council," he had thought that he would actually be meeting a council, as in a group of people type of council. What he did not expect was to find himself alone with Ms. Nimueh once the large wooden door shut behind him.
Nimueh, dressed in her usual deep red suit, occupied the end of a long rectangular table. She leaned back and crossed her legs, scrutinizing him. Arthur straightened himself, resting both of his hands behind his back to appear relax.
Nimueh smirked, her deep blue eyes darkened with amusement, "Sit down, Arthur." She gestured to a chair. "I am Nimueh," she offered a short introduction of herself and no more. Nimueh was right to assume that was all Arthur needed.
Everyone in the school knew who Nimueh was. They had all seen her familiar red suit hovering around campus and heard her heels clicking down the hallway. While the Council was an unfamiliar entity, high and powerful and unreachable as it was, Nimueh was pure authority, earning respect from familiarity and closeness with the student body. Yet, as Arthur sat down, Nimueh's presence at the other end of the long table was nearly frightening.
Before Arthur could ask, Nimueh said, "I am the Speaker of the Council, Arthur. The members adjourned at my request." That explained everything. The Council was nothing but a puppet. It was clear who hold the power in this school.
"Arthur Pendragon," Nimueh opened a brown manila file on her desk. "You have excellent record. Your test scores are high; your grades are in the top 10% of your class, and your physical training score is perfect."
"Thank you, ma'am," Arthur bowed respectfully. Even though she was praising him, something in her tone was troubling.
"Yet," Nimueh continued. "It would be impossible for you to get a promotion and a scholarship to Camelot Military Academy."
Arthur was stunned. But that couldn't be! Just as she said, he was one of the top students of this school. He deserved that promotion and that scholarship. He needed them. His future depended on them. Arthur will never be able to live on his own without a job or a proper education.
Despite his attempt to mask his panic, it must have shown through his eyes, because Nimueh's smirk was back. Victory! It seemed to say.
When Arthur's questioning gaze was on her, she clarified, "Despite your qualifications, Arthur, no one in their right mind would ever consider giving anything to a Pendragon."
Arthur swallowed. Of course. The chance that he had worked so hard for simply dissipated at the mention of his name. Pendragon.
Arthur clenched his fist, trying to control his anger. All of his life, he had lost numerous opportunities just because he was born with that name. When Arthur was younger, the fact that his father was a traitor to Camelot had left him parentless and friendless. Now that he was older, it was about to make him homeless and futureless as well.
He had to do something: anything in order to grasp that tiny thread of hope.
"I believe, Ms. Nimueh, that if I was to be judged, it would be based on the strength of my character and not on the circumstances of my birth."
"Well said," Nimueh said, the smirk not leaving her face. "If only your father would have the same conviction and doctrine as his noble son." She sounded as if she was mocking him. "Because then, you wouldn't have to sit here without a future, hmmm?"
Arthur took in a deep breath. If he was going to try anything to save whatever chance he had, this would be the moment to do it.
"Ms. Nimueh, I assumed that you are different from my father," Arthur said, and at her raised eyebrow, he continued. "So you would not judge me based on the actions of my father, but rather, on my own actions." He paused; this next part was hard. "I am willing to do anything to prove to you and the Council that I deserve that promotion and that scholarship."
The gleam in Nimueh's eyes almost made Arthur regret saying anything. He felt as if he had just walked into a trap: that he had signed a binding contract and sealed his fate.
However, it was too late to change back now.
"Your father was a traitor to this country," Nimueh said. "During his time in Government, he had promoted anti-magic sentiment and raised a military force that threatened the security of the State. When his quest failed, he went into hiding."
Arthur did not even blink. He had heard all of this before, in numerous TV campaigns and textbooks. He was raised with this information drilled into his head.
"For years, the Government had tried to catch him," she continued. "But he disappeared without a trace, with nothing of his old life left behind, except…."
Nimueh didn't need to finish that sentence, Arthur already knew. It was a miracle, everyone had said, that Uther Pendragon, who had erased all traces of his old life, including his wife and all of his possessions, had left his son alive. There wasn't even a single picture of Uther Pendragon left anywhere.
"You are going to be of age today, Arthur. There is a strong possibility that your father might try to contact you. We want you to notify us right away when that happens." Nimueh then delivered that final blow. "You're a bright young man, Arthur. Don't let your father hinders you from achieving your goals in life."
Arthur nodded, "Yes ma'am." He tried to sound enthusiastic even though he was feeling sick inside.
"What's wrong?" Lance asked, leaning in so that his voice would not be carried away by the loud music. "You hated drinking."
"Nothing," Arthur shrugged, sipping more of the beer. It tasted awful, but he swallowed it down anyway.
Since today was his eighteenth birthday, Morgana, Gwen, Lance, and a group of other friends had dragged him to a bar and celebrate his "becoming a man by finally reaching the drinking age." Arthur hated drinking, but he gave in to his friends' request after abandoning them for a month to prepare for testing.
"Really? Because you have been sulking ever since we got here," Morgana chimed in, Gwen right beside her with a couple more drinks. "You didn't even blink when Vivian rubbed her breasts all over your arm."
"Not interested," Arthur said dryly. "And I was not sulking."
Despite his protest, Morgana rolled her eyes in a way that implied that yes, he indeed was sulking. Gwen snorted, "You're obviously sulking like a little girl." Then, she hastily added when Arthur gave her a look, "N-Not that you're a girl of course. I just meant that you're acting like a girl. N-Not that there's anything wrong with being a girl of course. It's just that, well…."
Morgana laughed, "Gwen, you don't have to try so hard. We know."
Gwen blushed, and the red on her face only deepened when Lance reached for her hand and grasped it in his. Arthur rolled his eyes. These two were sickeningly sweet.
The whole night passed by like a blur, and before he knew it, he was being dragged outside by Morgana, Gwen, and Lance. They sat him down onto the sidewalk while Morgana whistled for a taxi and the other two went back into the club to find Gwen's purse.
Arthur was happy, warm, and content. Humanity was amazing. Of course, the alcohol might have something to do with it, but he wasn't going to be picky.
It took Arthur a while, but after a moment of concentration, he could hear someone calling him from his right. He turned. There was no one there.
Arthur Pendragon. The voice whispered again.
Oh. Arthur knew this voice. He remembered it well. It was his friend, yes, his friend. He remembered now. Perfectly well, in fact.
Arthur.
I'm coming, I'm coming. He thought. Wait for me.
He was near the voice, he knew. Now, if he could just reach closer.
Arthur.
I'm almost there. He told the voice. I'm almos-
"Arthur!" Morgana's shout snapped Arthur from his daze, her arms, surprisingly strong, yanked him backward. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"
That was enough to sober him up. He looked at Morgana's fearful, angry face with confusion. "Wha-"
"Arthur!" Gwen and Lance ran toward them, barely catching their breaths. "Arthur, are you alright?"
"What happened?" he asked.
"YOU WERE ABOUT TO JUMP INTO THE LAKE!" Morgana screeched. Her perfect hair and clothes were in disarray, and her eyes, normally composed, were in panic.
"What? No I didn-" Arthur turned around to meet the sight of the broken railing, and beyond it, the Great Lake shrouded in darkness. "How?"
"I don't know! One minute you were right next to me and the next…." Morgana swallowed, unable to finish her sentence.
"We just got out of the club when we saw Morgana running after you, " Gwen said. "She was shouting for you, but you just kept running toward the lake."
"I-I…." Arthur was at a loss for words. He was looking for something, wasn't he? There was a voice, and….
That something was waiting for him. He had promised to get to it, but he failed. He had promised.
"Arthur, you alright, mate?" Lance clasped him in the back.
"I…." was all Arthur said before throwing up all over Lance's shoes.
It was Saturday morning when Arthur woke up, his head pounding from a hangover, with no memory of what happened the night before.
Treading slowly into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out the carton of orange juice. Since there was nothing else edible, he would have to head down to the chow hall later. Orange juice would have to do. Arthur began to chug some down until he accidentally choke and coughed the juice all over the kitchen counter.
"Shit," Arthur cursed when he saw orange splats staining numerous envelopes that were scattered carelessly by Galahad yesterday afternoon. He quickly grabbed some napkins from pizza night two days ago and wiped the juice from the letters. Well, the stains were not that noticeable. Besides, all of the other guys, saved for Lance, were sloppy people as well, so they wouldn't mind if he made a mess.
Arthur was about to put the orange juice carton back in the fridge before heading out for breakfast when an envelope caught his eyes. He set the carton onto the counter, tossed the dirty napkins out before picking up the letter. Sure enough, it was an envelope addressed to an Arthur Pendragon.
In all eighteen years of his life, Arthur never had a single letter addressed to him that was not a message from the State regarding his dependency status. This letter was different.
It was actually a normal, white envelope: one of those kinds that his friends received from their parents once in a while as Arthur watched with envy, wishing that he had parents who would meddle with his life and nag him about finding a girlfriend or having safe sex.
Suddenly, Nimueh's words came back to him: You are going to be of age today, Arthur. There is a strong possibility that your father might try to contact you. We want you to notify us right away when that happens.
Could it be…?
There was no sender's name or address on it, just a neat, handwritten Arthur Pendragon. With haste, Arthur opened the envelope. He unfolded the letter inside, anticipation pounding in his chest.
The only thing written on the paper was:
Find Merlin.
-Uther Pendragon
Chapter 2