But you and I, we've been through that / And this is not our fate [ Narrative ]
Characters: The wizard and a knight
Time: A long time ago
Location: A sanctuary
Content: A death curse was the only way.
Warnings: None
The wizard stood in front of him, smiling.
“And how goes the exiled life, sir knight?”
Lancelot gave him an incredulous look and stopped, saying in a rather droll tone, “There is a certain lack of niceties here that was abundant in court.” He straightened up then. “You bring news of what happens there?”
Merlin nodded, the smile vanishing quickly beneath the grim expression that made his handsome features taut with exhaustion. “Unfortunately. It does not go well. Morgana has successfully delivered a blow to the Council that I doubt they shall recover from. If it continues going along that path, it shall spread past the borders of this country.” Past the borders of this world too, he added silently as he took in the other man’s fierce and determined expression.
“Arthur? Guinevere?”
There was an understanding current in the warmth of the return smile. “Angry to be sure, but safe.”
Lancelot chuckled humorlessly. “I wonder what tales the future will spin about this. Perhaps that I tried to wrongly bed the queen, that we would be the ones that would ruin the Council with our infidelity.” He began pacing, the pent-up energy of weeks passed not allowing for him to sit still now that the wizard had arrived. “I am sure you have a plan of what to do. Your Sight must’ve given you some forewarning of her plans.”
“Hasn’t it always?”
Something about the tone of the other man’s voice made the knight stop and turn. He gave Merlin a curious look. “Something is the matter.”
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Lancelot’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell it isn’t. You’re planning on sacrificing yourself, aren’t you?”
Merlin studied him blankly for a long, silent moment and then, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. “A death curse would guarantee that she would never win.”
“You’re mad!” Lancelot retorted, grabbing Merlin’s arm. “And what good would any of us be if you died and it didn’t work?”
“It will work.”
“There’s no guarantee, Merlin.”
“Lancelot.” Merlin’s voice was stern now, almost angry. Ice glinted in his pale blue eyes. “It will work. I’ve already set things in motion.”
“Set in motion...” The knight’s brow furrowed. “Galahad, you mean?”
“And Bors and Percival, but yes - mainly it will be Galahad and others like him. Arthur’s Sword as well, along with two others. The remnants of the Council and my successor - I promise you, Lancelot, that I will either fail completely or succeed completely.” Merlin looked away then, his shoulders slumping momentarily, the weight of his decision imperceptibly forcing him down. “This game I play with Morgana - I have no greater regret than letting it become this untamed beast. If it means my life, I will find a way set right all that has gone wrong.”
Lancelot released his firm grip on the shorter man’s arm and took a step away from him, collecting himself. So much had gone wrong, so much was quickly spiraling out of control. If Merlin didn’t believe that his solution would work, what sort of future lay ahead for the rest of them? He was a master weaver, but even as he dabbled in the lives of so many, Lancelot was unsure if this meant it was the right path. It was magnificently manipulated - frighteningly so.
“When?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When do you plan on releasing your death curse?”
Merlin chuckled. “She plans on killing me soon. My goal is to only have everything set so that by killing me, she ensures her own downfall.”
Lancelot grimaced, turning away. “It is a chance. What makes you think that this will work?”
“Because another generation will never see the likes of those who fight alongside your son.” The youthful-looking wizard held up his hand before Lancelot could ask another question. “I have a fortnight and not much else, Lancelot. I will bring you back to court, but you must prepare yourself for the worst - you must know that these times will be lost to the ages. You must trust my decision to leave you all - it is the only way to save countless lives.”
The only way to save existence.
It fell silent in the cabin, the only sound the bitter whistle of the winter wind just beyond the door. Snow continued to pile up, blowing so fiercely that the dark emerald woods were hidden behind the gales.
“It’s foolhardy,” the dark-haired knight relented begrudgingly.
“Yes.”
“It may not work.”
“It will or it won’t - there is no other choice.”
“Arthur won’t know.”
“Arthur can’t know.”
Lancelot met Merlin’s serious gaze and finally nodded, suddenly looking as tired as the wizard himself.
“Tell me what needs to be done.”
Time: A long time ago
Location: A sanctuary
Content: A death curse was the only way.
Warnings: None
The wizard stood in front of him, smiling.
“And how goes the exiled life, sir knight?”
Lancelot gave him an incredulous look and stopped, saying in a rather droll tone, “There is a certain lack of niceties here that was abundant in court.” He straightened up then. “You bring news of what happens there?”
Merlin nodded, the smile vanishing quickly beneath the grim expression that made his handsome features taut with exhaustion. “Unfortunately. It does not go well. Morgana has successfully delivered a blow to the Council that I doubt they shall recover from. If it continues going along that path, it shall spread past the borders of this country.” Past the borders of this world too, he added silently as he took in the other man’s fierce and determined expression.
“Arthur? Guinevere?”
There was an understanding current in the warmth of the return smile. “Angry to be sure, but safe.”
Lancelot chuckled humorlessly. “I wonder what tales the future will spin about this. Perhaps that I tried to wrongly bed the queen, that we would be the ones that would ruin the Council with our infidelity.” He began pacing, the pent-up energy of weeks passed not allowing for him to sit still now that the wizard had arrived. “I am sure you have a plan of what to do. Your Sight must’ve given you some forewarning of her plans.”
“Hasn’t it always?”
Something about the tone of the other man’s voice made the knight stop and turn. He gave Merlin a curious look. “Something is the matter.”
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Lancelot’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell it isn’t. You’re planning on sacrificing yourself, aren’t you?”
Merlin studied him blankly for a long, silent moment and then, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. “A death curse would guarantee that she would never win.”
“You’re mad!” Lancelot retorted, grabbing Merlin’s arm. “And what good would any of us be if you died and it didn’t work?”
“It will work.”
“There’s no guarantee, Merlin.”
“Lancelot.” Merlin’s voice was stern now, almost angry. Ice glinted in his pale blue eyes. “It will work. I’ve already set things in motion.”
“Set in motion...” The knight’s brow furrowed. “Galahad, you mean?”
“And Bors and Percival, but yes - mainly it will be Galahad and others like him. Arthur’s Sword as well, along with two others. The remnants of the Council and my successor - I promise you, Lancelot, that I will either fail completely or succeed completely.” Merlin looked away then, his shoulders slumping momentarily, the weight of his decision imperceptibly forcing him down. “This game I play with Morgana - I have no greater regret than letting it become this untamed beast. If it means my life, I will find a way set right all that has gone wrong.”
Lancelot released his firm grip on the shorter man’s arm and took a step away from him, collecting himself. So much had gone wrong, so much was quickly spiraling out of control. If Merlin didn’t believe that his solution would work, what sort of future lay ahead for the rest of them? He was a master weaver, but even as he dabbled in the lives of so many, Lancelot was unsure if this meant it was the right path. It was magnificently manipulated - frighteningly so.
“When?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When do you plan on releasing your death curse?”
Merlin chuckled. “She plans on killing me soon. My goal is to only have everything set so that by killing me, she ensures her own downfall.”
Lancelot grimaced, turning away. “It is a chance. What makes you think that this will work?”
“Because another generation will never see the likes of those who fight alongside your son.” The youthful-looking wizard held up his hand before Lancelot could ask another question. “I have a fortnight and not much else, Lancelot. I will bring you back to court, but you must prepare yourself for the worst - you must know that these times will be lost to the ages. You must trust my decision to leave you all - it is the only way to save countless lives.”
The only way to save existence.
It fell silent in the cabin, the only sound the bitter whistle of the winter wind just beyond the door. Snow continued to pile up, blowing so fiercely that the dark emerald woods were hidden behind the gales.
“It’s foolhardy,” the dark-haired knight relented begrudgingly.
“Yes.”
“It may not work.”
“It will or it won’t - there is no other choice.”
“Arthur won’t know.”
“Arthur can’t know.”
Lancelot met Merlin’s serious gaze and finally nodded, suddenly looking as tired as the wizard himself.
“Tell me what needs to be done.”