Missing - Merlin/Arthur fanfic (Chapter 2/6 + Epilogue)
So who saw the season finale? I did! It was a bit slower than I thought it'd be, and Merlin isn't outed yet, but I can't say I was overly upset with the ending of the series. I like my version of the Excalibur legend more than the one they showed in the episode, but meh, whatever. Dreams will be dreams. I loved the Lancelot / Merlin talk the night before the final battle, and I loved the Arthur / Merlin banter at the round table. There was surprisingly little Gwaine / Merlin interaction this episode. Hmm...
Well, here's part two of Missing. Enjoy!
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Chapter Two - Hoping
Arthur woke feeling refreshed and ready for the day. He felt better right now then he had in what felt like years. He wondered for a moment why the curtains weren't being drawn and why his breakfast wasn't here yet, and then he remembered that he'd fired his old servant….what was his name? a few days ago and hadn't gotten around to picking out a new one. It was the second servant he'd fired in a month and his father and Morgana were giving him hell for it, but he just didn't like them. They needed something, but he couldn't put his finger on what would make them the perfect servant.
In any case, he had knight training to get to before the meeting tonight to discuss the celebration of Camelot's founding. How many years was it now? Several hundred at least. Arthur didn't care. It just meant a party with lots of alcohol where everyone but him was allowed to get piss drunk and all the women in a two mile radius would try to sleep with him. What had it been….four years? Since he last took one of them to bed? But this time he might accept one of them at the feast. Just maybe.
Why would he want to bed some random woman when he'd turned his morals against it years ago? Well, because he'd felt a bit frustrated for three months now and no matter what he did, he never felt any better about it. He just had this nagging feeling that he was forgetting something, and item or an event or something and he couldn't figure out what it was. Most of the time he forgot about this nagging at the back of his mind, but sometimes, when he was alone, he could feel it picking away at him. He'd thought long and hard about it, but couldn't think of anything he'd forgotten, so he figured he would simply go about his daily life and, eventually, sooner or later, he'd remember what it was he'd forgotten.
Arthur sighed, ran a hand down and all over his face before finally sitting up and sliding out of bed to get ready for the day. He picked out his own clothes and dressed himself (thank you very much, Morgana) and then grabbed his sword and headed down to the armory to find some random page boy to secure his armor on well before he ventured out to train his knights. If he could rid himself of enough tension on the field today, he would be better put to refuse the requests of the ladies later.
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Three months.
It had been three months and Merlin couldn't take it anymore. He had been alone in the Mountains of Isgaro for so long he thought he might go mad. That witch had not been joking when she said memories were your life. He had left Camelot knowing that Arthur was going to live and that everyone was alright and no one would miss him with a clear mind and conviction. Within a week he was craving human interaction, but he was too afraid to go into a city.
What if it wasn't just his past memories that would be erased, but any that he gave to people forever? What if he went to a city and got a job and lodgings, and then the next morning the owner of the inn or house or wherever he was staying woke up and didn't know him?
So he stayed hidden, alone, in the forests at the base of the mountains. He used magic to catch fish in the river near the small cave he'd taken residence in and small animals that wandered by. He tried not to use magic for awhile, but he was rubbish at hunting and fishing so using magic was the only way he could get food. He would've died without it.
Not that this could really be called living.
Right now he was walking aimlessly around the woods, looking for travelers. Anyone passing through here could hold news of Arthur and he needed to hear if anything bad was happening in Camelot. He didn't care if he wasn't supposed to go back to Camelot or not, if Arthur needed him he'd be back in a moment. Screw the consequences.
Actually, Merlin would go back for Arthur in a moment no matter what, danger or not. Everyday Merlin felt his heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. The world turned grayer every day he woke up and had no one. He wanted to sleep in the little wooden bed in Gaius's chambers and drink nauseating potions, he wanted to see Morgana and Gwen and get picked on for flirting or being in love or whatever they wanted, and he wanted to see Arthur. He wanted to muck out the stables and do Arthur's laundry and change the bed sheets and put on Arthur's armour and wear that stupid festival hat and fight griffins and snakes and witches and drink poisons and try with every fiber of his being to hide his magic and his desire to hold Arthur and tell him that, more than anything, he simply wanted to be at Arthur's side forever, no matter his station or respect.
Merlin stopped walking and leaned against a nearby tree. The worst part about being alone…was knowing that no one would ever come looking for him. He could die and no one would know he'd ever existed. He was nothing to the world now. Not even the Great Dragon, a fellow exile, had reached out to him. His destiny was over. Merlin slid down the tree to sit with his knees to his chest and his head bowed in despair.
He had wanted that destiny. To watch over, protect, and guide Arthur into his kingship and beyond until the end of time…it would have been amazing.
"Hello, there," a familiar voice called out curiously. "Are you alright?"
Merlin lifted his head as if in disbelief and stared across the way at Lancelot walking towards him. He couldn't believe his eyes. Lancelot was here!
"Are you ok?" Lancelot asked again when he was closer in a softer tone. He was wearing peasant's clothes with a pack over his shoulder, where Merlin caught a glimpse of the chain mail Gwen had made him.
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Lancelot just watched him patiently, a gentle smile on his face, and waited. Finally, "I'm fine, but t-thank you….for asking."
And he truly was grateful. This was the first time anyone had spoken to him in three months. Lancelot frowned.
"Are you sure? You look a bit worse for wear."
Merlin nodded but quickly returned his eyes to Lancelot's form. "Yea…I'll be fine."
"Alright then, if you're sure…" Lancelot still looked worried as he turned to leave and suddenly Merlin panicked.
"Hey!" he called loudly, and it sliced through the near silent forest air like lightening. Lancelot actually jumped before turning to him. "Where'd you get that chainmail?" he asked in a rush, wanting something to talk about.
Lancelot looked to his bag and then warily to Merlin again, still bunched up at the base of the tree. "A woman I met once, several months ago, made it for me when she learned I wanted to be a knight."
Merlin nodded. Of course. Lancelot wouldn't tell a stranger Gwen's name or the full details of his knightly adventures in Camelot. But he also wouldn't lie. It made Merlin both happy and sad to know Lancelot didn't know him.
"Have…," Merlin paused. What was he asking? Oh, right. "Have you heard anything about Camelot recently?"
Lancelot's stance calmed and Merlin vaguely noted that Lancelot had apparently thought Merlin was going to attack him. He wondered how many had tried stealing that mail. "Only good things. The prince nearly died a few months ago, but he's alright now…and the three hundredth year anniversary of Camelot's founding is coming up soon. There's going to be some huge festival there in three days to celebrate."
"A festival?"
"Yea," Lancelot nodded. "Every townsperson will attend the village festival while the nobility from all across the lands join King Uther and his son in a great ball inside the castle. I'm actually headed there myself to join in."
Merlin felt a fire in him spark to life. A huge festival in Camelot would mean he could get around easily without being noticed. He might even be able to sneak into the castle and see Arthur!
Arthur…
"Do you wish to join me?"
Merlin snapped back to reality and gazed into Lancelot's eyes. Memories of Merlin or not, Lancelot was still one of the kindest people Merlin had ever met. He gave his best smile and shook his head gently. "No thanks. I would, but I can't."
Lancelot frowned slightly. "Why not? If you want to go to Camelot, then go."
Merlin shrugged vaguely. "You probably wouldn't understand, even if I tried to explain it. Simply put, I'm kind of….scared….to go to Camelot." He shook his head. "I can't explain it very well….Anyway, you should go. Camelot's three days walk from here. You'll never make it to the festival if you don't hurry."
Lancelot looked torn between going to meet Gwen at the festival and staying to take care of the mysterious boy in the forest who probably looked like he really needed help. Merlin hadn't seen himself in awhile, so he could believe that maybe he looked a bit ragged.
"I'm fine," he assured the to-be knight. "Now go. You don't want to keep that lady waiting, right?"
Lancelot spluttered, a blush rising on his cheeks. It only took a bit more prodding to get him to go on his way and leave Merlin behind. Once he was out of sight, Merlin stood up and looked at his clothes - they were in shreds. No wonder Lancelot had thought he needed help!
Anyways…He needed to get moving if he was going to make it to Camelot in time for the festival without using magic. And he also had to do it so that he didn't run into Lancelot on the way. Merlin ran back to the cave and packed all of his stuff into one bag and hid it behind a small pile of rocks he'd gathered the first time he slept here. You can't steal what you can't find. Once he was sure his things were safe, Merlin took off going north as fast as he could towards Camelot.
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Merlin didn't sleep, and ran most of the way, and made it to Camelot in barely over two days. He'd gone around a bit so he wouldn't run into Lancelot along the way, but he'd paid for it in the total exhaustion he felt once he arrived. He wanted to collapse, but Camelot was rising up in front of him over the hill and the flags filled him with a painful sort of joy. He'd been gone for three months and the sight of the castle standing tall felt like the first breath of air he'd had since he left.
"Oh…," he breathed and his legs gave out. Merlin fell to his knees but kept his eyes on the castle. The witch's words echoed in his mind: "…you must be gone from Camelot, and Ealdor, and never return." "But I need…," he pleaded in a whisper before his sight darkened and his body succumbed to sleep. Before he could hit the ground, however, warmth wrapped around him and cushioned his fall.
When he came to, he realized he was lying in a bed. It was more comfortable than his old bed back in Gaius's house, but nothing compared to Arthur's royal chambers. It was hard to open his eyes, but when he managed it he saw the ceiling of the house he was in. It was the normal roof of any random house in Camelot. Sunlight was coming in through a tiny crack in the wall, letting Merlin know that it was the latest moments of morning, if not early afternoon.
The festival!
Merlin jumped up, suddenly wide awake, and quickly scanned the house he was in. There was a small kitchen, a table with two chairs, the door, two windows, wait a minute. This was Gwen's house.
Gwen's house?
Just before Merlin could panic, the front door opened and Gwen and Lancelot walked in together, laughing. They immediately stopped upon seeing that Merlin was awake and Gwen hurried over to kneel next to the bed by him.
"You're awake," she breathed out. "Well that's good. We were afraid you'd never wake up."
"How-?" Merlin began, but Lancelot, uncharacteristically, cut him off.
"I…followed you on the way here. I knew, somehow, that you were going to come here to Camelot, and something told me you would need help so…I tailed you. Granted, I lost you a few times when I stopped to eat or sleep, but I caught up in time to see you collapse just outside the city," he explained with a sheepish blush coating his cheeks.
"Oh," Merlin breathed out, not unlike Gwen had a moment ago. He looked down at the blanket covering him for a moment, then gave Lancelot a smile. "Thanks a lot. I haven't missed the festival, have I?"
"No," Gwen assured him with a twinkle in her eyes. "It starts tonight, in a few hours." She held out her right hand and gave him a gentle smile. "I'm Gwen, by the way."
Merlin stared at her hand for what felt like an eternity but was actually a matter of moments. An introduction. She didn't remember him either. It wasn't as if he expected her to, not when Lancelot hadn't, but it still hurt somewhere deep inside him when he grasped her hand in his own. "Merlin."
"I don't remember if I introduced myself to you in the forest," Lancelot said by way of amending things. He missed the twitch Merlin gave at the mention of remembering. "I'm Lancelot."
Merlin nodded, but he felt a twinge of fear inside. It was probably just some stupid statement, but Lancelot had said he couldn't remember the forest meeting very well. It was possible that in a few days, or hours even, he would completely forget meeting Merlin a few days ago. Gwen and he might-
"Oh, right," Gwen gasped, interrupting his thoughts. "I made you something." She stood and went over to a chest in the corner that Merlin hadn't noticed before now and pulled out a red over tunic and black pants and long-sleeved tunic. "I noticed your clothes were pretty worn and torn, so I made you some new ones….I hope you don't mind," she informed him with a nervous smile.
Gwen, the best seamstress in town and the woman with the kindest heart he'd ever known. He almost began to cry. She didn't even know him anymore and she was going to so much trouble for him…
"No," he managed, but had to take a deep breath before he could say anything else. "I don't mind."
Her returning smile was gift enough. "I just thought, if you're planning on going to the festival tonight, you can't do it in the rags you're wearing now….you know? Oh! Not that I'm saying there's anything wrong with your clothes now, I just think that you should wear something a bit more festive and in better condition than….not that your clothes right now can't be mended or anything. I'm sure I could-"
"It's fine…Gwen," Merlin stopped her gently with a little smile. "I know I don't look my best."
Gwen flushed in shame at having pretty much insulted someone and Lancelot smiled at her with so much love in his eyes in made Merlin's chest swell. It was like being home again, being with them.
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That night, just as the sun was going down, when the festival was in full swing, Merlin snuck away from Gwen and Lancelot and used the back servant entrance to sneak into the castle. Every moment he feared that the witch from the Isle of the Blessed would intervene, so he hurried as fast as he could through the corridors towards the great hall. Towards Arthur.
He pushed open a door and suddenly the world was filled with sound and color as he walked into the great hall and found himself immersed in the festivities. Knights, lords and ladies, every noble in the kingdom, Uther, Morgana, a slew of servants, and….right in the middle of it all….Arthur. He was laughing with his knights the way he did the first time Merlin ever attended a party at the castle. He seemed so…happy.
Merlin's heart grew heavy. Merlin had worked for Arthur for almost two years and he had rarely seen Arthur hang out with his knights the way he was now. He'd rarely seen Arthur laughing the way he was now. Without a single inkling that Merlin had ever existed…Arthur was doing fine. He was happy. He had no idiot, useless manservant to yell at. He had everything he needed, or would ever need, right here.
'He doesn't need me…,' Merlin thought, feeling his eyes begin to burn.
Merlin closed his eyes, turned around, and ran. He ran and ran until his legs hurt and his breath was coming in gasps, until he was standing outside the castle and watching everyone else dance and sing to the birthday of their kingdom. When he'd stopped panting, Merlin figured he should go find Gwen and at least attempt to have a good time…or at least say thank you and leave very quickly to become a hermit for the rest of forever. He found Gwen and Lancelot standing just off the side of the area that had been roped off for dancing. Lancelot looked like he was trying to work up enough courage to ask Gwen for a dance.
"Hey," he greeted in as cheerful a voice as he could manage. They both turned to stare at him. "Listen…thanks for everything, but I think I'm gonna go now."
There was a moment of silence in which both of them seemed to realize he'd finished talking, and then Gwen shook her head a little. "Ok….," she frowned a little. "I'm sorry, have we met? My name's Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen." She gave him a friendly smile but Merlin felt his heart stop.
"You've been bad, young warlock. I warned you," a sweet, sorrowful voice echoed through his mind.
Merlin took a step back from Gwen's hand and shook his head a few times before once again taking off and running as fast as he possibly could out of Camelot. He didn't stop running until he his legs collapsed underneath him somewhere far far away from the city, from Gwen, from Lancelot, from Arthur. There he lay until he fell asleep, his heart wrenching sobs breaking through the air around him for no one to hear but the trees.
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Chapter Three - Dreaming