IT SO HAPPENED ONE DAY: Part 3
SUMMARY: Merlin wakes one day to find that he is the Prince of Camelot and Arthur Pendragon is his manservant. It seems that nobody but Merlin remembers life a different way...
Part 1 @ http://thecheekydragon.livejournal.com/12985.html
Part 2 @ http://thecheekydragon.livejournal.com/13067.html
IT SO HAPPENED ONE DAY: PART 3
He felt agitated. He supposed it had been the conversation with Gwen that had him riled, finding out that people with magic routinely harassed and terrorized those who didn’t and that his father, through his inaction, supported this unjust behaviour. Merlin had not agreed with Uther Pendragon’s punitive suppression of magic in the Camelot he knew, but Merlin also did not believe that this was the right way for the people of Camelot to live.
He went to see Gaius in hopes to understand this world he found himself in, a world he was now an active part of.
Gaius was preparing an herbal draught of some sort and he raised an eyebrow at Merlin when he picked up the stone mortar and pestle and began crushing plant leaves.
“Be careful not to crush the leaves too fine,” Gaius cautioned, continuing his mixing and measuring.
Merlin gave the court physician a mildly frustrated look. “Gaius, I have crushed this herb for a draught a hundred times before. I know it mixes best when not too fine.”
Gaius arched another brow at him. “I beg your pardon, Merlin, but you have never crushed any herb or mixed any draught in your life.”
Merlin’s countenance remained smugly petulant as he showed Gaius the mortar with the prepared herbs, knowing that the leaves were crushed exactly to Gaius’ liking. To his credit, Gaius expressed only mild surprise, taking the bowl from Merlin and dumping the contents into another one.
“Don’t tell me that, as prince, I have done nothing but read your magic book my entire life,” Merlin commented, his mood becoming increasingly foul.
“My magic book?” Gaius looked amused. “You surpassed the magic in that, my dear boy, by the age of six.”
Now it was Merlin’s turn to be surprised. Though, he supposed he shouldn’t have been since, in this life, his magic had been recognized and cultivated since birth. Why would he have had need of Gaius’ book or guidance?
“There’s too much magic in Camelot,” Merlin said. “We would all do well to practice less of it.”
“Merlin, I know that you have never fully supported your father’s stance on the free use of magic in Camelot...” Gaius started to say with understanding.
“If it were only free use!” Merlin exclaimed hotly, his anger building. “My father seems to believe that people with magic can do whatever they wish, that they can use magic to hurt people like Gwen.”
“Gwen?”
Even though he had expected Gaius not to know Gwen, Merlin found himself growing more and more infuriated. “Yes, Gwen! She’s the blacksmith’s daughter! She’s my friend!”
Gaius spoke softly, kindly. “Once you are king, Merlin, you will right the wrongs you believe exist.”
“But I’m not meant to be king, Gaius!” Merlin shouted with strong emotion. “That’s Arthur’s destiny, not mine!” Merlin wished he could make Gaius, the man who had been a father to him in his other life, understand.
Gaius looked puzzled. “Arthur Pendragon? Your servant?” he questioned. “Why ever, Merlin, would you think that Arthur was meant to be king?”
Merlin could feel tears springing up behind his eyelids. “Because that is the way it is supposed to be, Gaius,” he said quietly. “Arthur is brave, noble, compassionate - much greater and stronger than I can ever hope to be, even with my magic. And this will make him the greatest king of all of Albion.” Merlin looked at the old man with imploring eyes. “Why can’t you just believe me, Gaius? Trust that what I say is how things should be?”
“Merlin,” Gaius said sympathetically, but Merlin could tell from the way Gaius avoided looking him squarely in the eyes that he did not believe nor trust him. “I know you have always been very fond of Arthur--”
“This is not about that!”
“-but you have not been yourself lately,” Gaius continued. “Talking nonsense about not being the Prince of Camelot and having lived another life. I dare say, Merlin, you need some rest. I have a sleeping draught that should--”
“I don’t need a sleeping draught!” Merlin yelled. He needed Gaius to believe him, to help him make sense of all that was going on. Without consciously intending to, fuelled by his frustration, Merlin magically amplified the candle flame that was burning on the side table near Gaius tenfold, causing Gaius to move back quickly.
“I’m sorry,” was all Merlin could say as he rushed from Gaius’ quarters.
~*~*~*~*
He needed to find Arthur. In this entire strange experience, Arthur had seemed to be his one constant, the person who trusted him, never questioned him or his sanity, the one who was able to take his pain and hurt away, even if only temporarily.
Merlin wished he could count on Gaius to help him through this, but Gaius did not seem to understand what Merlin was going through. Still, it had been wrong of him to lash out at the old man. Merlin felt ashamed at having used his magic irresponsibly and without thought to the consequences. This is what he was fighting against after all.
But he had been so angry, so full of anguish at not being able to make Gaius understand, to garner his support. This life may be a sorcerer’s dream, but it was not his dream.
He had a father in this life that he had never known in the other. But the Balinor in this life had turned out to be a self-serving king who allowed the misuse and unjust practice of magic to run rampant in Camelot. Merlin desperately missed the love and moral guidance of his mother, who had always understood Merlin’s unique abilities and had nurtured him to act in kindness and with compassion.
Merlin missed the close friendship he had shared with Gwen and the beautiful smile she gave so readily. He missed the goodness of her heart and the way she laughed at the simplest of things.
Merlin was glad to see Morgana again, but he was terribly uncomfortable with this Morgana fawning all over him. Morgana had been his friend and he had loved her, but he was sure they were never destined to be married.
And Arthur...
Merlin loved this Arthur, there was no question of it. This Arthur was gentle and loving and he made Merlin feel like nothing else existed in the world. But he supposed he had loved Arthur, the prince, as well, even if they had not shared such an intimate relationship. And Merlin also supposed he did kind of miss Arthur’s playful jabs and teasing retorts and the way Arthur trusted him and believed in him, even if Merlin had been only a mere servant.
Merlin continued to look for Arthur, desperate to find him. He needed him right now. He needed to feel Arthur against him, his lips touching his, his breath on his skin.
He finally found Arthur toiling at some organizational tasks in a room not far from his chambers. Without greeting, Merlin grabbed Arthur by the hand, pulling him, saying with desperation, “I need you, Arthur. Now.”
Arthur let Merlin pull him along to his chambers, not saying a word. Inside his rooms, Merlin launched himself rather desperately at Arthur, taking his mouth roughly with his, tugging at his tunic and the laces of his breeches, wanting to eliminate the barriers to feeling skin-on-skin. His desire for Arthur was so intense, so needy that he found himself fumbling and frantic-like in trying to remove both sets of garments while continuing his onslaught on Arthur’s mouth with lips and tongue.
Arthur took Merlin’s face in his hands and gently forced his mouth away. “Merlin?” he asked, blue eyes searching blue.
“I need you, want you,” Merlin said. “I need you to make love to me, Arthur. To take the hurt away. You’re the only one who can do that.”
Arthur led Merlin to the canopied bed. He quickly removed his tunic and shed his breeches, then helped Merlin cast his own garments aside. He pulled Merlin onto the bed with him.
Soon, Merlin was completely lost in Arthur’s sensual foreplay. He arched into every kiss, every touch, desperately needing to be as close to Arthur as possible. Merlin felt completely melded into Arthur’s body, and was anticipating the ultimate act that would bring them even closer, when Arthur suddenly pulled up and away from him.
“Arthur,” Merlin whined, clinging to him.
“Shhh...” Arthur soothed, brushing his lips softly across Merlin’s. He quickly rolled them over so that he was lying on the bed, Merlin now on top of him. He kissed Merlin’s mouth, then trailed a path down his throat with his tongue. “Make love to me, Merlin. I want you to lose yourself in pleasure.”
So Merlin did, feeling such a liberating release in carrying out his desires, Arthur meeting his every demand with equal passion. It was strange that Arthur knew that this was what Merlin had really needed. To lose himself completely in the pleasure that was Arthur.
And when the crescendo hit, it was pure ecstasy. “Oh, Arthur!” Merlin cried out. “I lo--” he started to proclaim but the rest of his words were lost with Arthur’s mouth on his, swallowed into a deep kiss that helped Merlin ride out his release.
They lay, bodies entwined, skin still burning and sweat-soaked. Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s chest, weary but happy. Arthur cupped Merlin’s face and tenderly stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. For Merlin, nothing felt more right in this world right now than this.
“Merlin!” a voice suddenly shrilled, yanking both Merlin and Arthur out of their reverie.
Merlin’s attention darted to the source and he saw Morgana standing inside the doorway, a look of fierceness on her face.
Merlin rolled quickly out of the bed, grabbing for his breeches. As he attempted to pull them on, Morgana lashed out with magic, her wrath channelled through flames from the fireplace, which she shot across the room at Arthur.
With quick agility, Arthur managed to dodge the flame that was aimed directly at his chest, but got caught with one in the shoulder as he dived for the floor.
“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed. He cursed himself for not having been able to counter or deflect Morgana’s magic with his own but, in truth, Merlin had not realized the extent and strength of the Morgana of this world’s magical powers until just now.
Having done her damage, Morgana turned heel and hurried from his chambers.
Merlin started for Arthur, but Arthur waved him on, telling him, “Go!”
Merlin rushed out of his chambers. “Morgana!” he called, attempting to grab for her arm to stop her.
Morgana whirled on him, her green eyes flashing. “How dare you!” she accused, slapping him sharply across the face. Merlin kept his eyes on the stone floor of the hallway as he let the sting subside. “Him,” she bit out, referring to Arthur, “I can understand. He’s a no-good peasant scoundrel who is crazy-mad in love with you. But you--” Morgana’s face contorted in frustrated anger, “You, Merlin, are the prince, the future king, a great warlock, my husband-to-be. You’re supposed to be better than that.”
Merlin felt ashamed. What she said was no doubt true but this wasn’t even Merlin’s life - at least not the life he had been living for most of the one he remembered. “Morgana, I...”
Morgana fixed him with a steely stare. “Don’t bother, Merlin,” she said. “Arthur may be what you want, but I have no intention of sharing you once we’re married, so you had better get him out of your system. And I shall warn you--Arthur Pendragon will stab you in the back with a dagger if you give him the chance. Just remember that.”
Morgana turned on her heels and walked determinedly away. Merlin watched her go, wondering if she would now go to his father to inform him of his un-princely misdeeds with his miscreant servant. Then he hurried back to Arthur.
Arthur was sitting the floor, his back propped up against the bed. He had replaced his breeches but the ties still hung loose. He had his right hand pressed to his left shoulder, his face etched with pain, but he quickly smoothed his features when Merlin came into view.
Merlin knelt down in front of him. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling Arthur’s hand away from his shoulder, revealing a sizeable patch of scorched flesh.
“Never felt better,” Arthur joked bravely and Merlin quickly smiled to hide the ache in his heart at seeing Arthur hurt. But Arthur must have noticed that he had gotten pale and that, despite the smile, his eyebrows had bunched in concern and he was now fretting his lower lip, because he said gently, “Don’t worry, Merlin, it’s not that bad.”
Merlin pressed a hand to Arthur’s wounded flesh, using his magic to heal it. Arthur was probably right, but Merlin couldn’t help feeling that this was all his fault, that Arthur had been hurt because of him. He removed his hand and examined his efforts. The scorching had diminished but there was a two-inch scar left. Merlin traced it with his finger.
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he said. “I’m sorry Morgana hurt you.”
“She’s angry, Merlin. Jealous,” Arthur gave excuse. He looked at Merlin intently. “Because she knows you’re mine.”
The tears threatened to spill but Merlin held them back fiercely. “That doesn’t give her the right to hurt you,” he told Arthur. “Magic should never be used to hurt people.”
Arthur gave him a half-smile then rested his forehead against Merlin’s, whispering softly, “And that is why I love you, Merlin.”
*~*~*~*~*
Merlin had been summoned to the Great Hall by his father. He had no idea what Balinor wanted, but Merlin suspected it had something to do with Arthur.
So, he was not surprised to see Arthur in attendance when he responded to his father’s request. Merlin was surprised, however, to see Arthur flanked by two men - sorcerers - as though he was being held.
“Father?” Merlin immediately questioned, a panic rising in him. If Morgana had regaled his father about tales of he and Arthur....
“Merlin,” his father began with grave tone that did nothing to qualm his panic.
Merlin cast a glance at Arthur, hoping to glimpse some inkling of what was afoot, but Arthur stood stone-faced, his eyes directed at the floor of the Great Hall.
“I am afraid, Merlin,” his father said gently, “that your manservant has been conspiring to overthrow our rule.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Merlin cried in response, not wanting to hear another word.
Balinor looked at him with patience. “I’m afraid there is strong evidence to support this. He has been actively recruiting others to his cause and has amassed a supply of weapons and battle armour. The caches have been discovered--”
“No!” Merlin shouted, now shaking. “Arthur would never go against us. Against me.”
“Merlin, I know that you have put your trust in Arthur Pendragon, too much trust it would seem, but--”
“Arthur,” Merlin appealed to his servant, his friend, his lover. “Tell him you would not do this. That you would never do this to me.”
Arthur now looked at him and before he even spoke, Merlin knew that what his father said was true.
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said and there was deep regret and emotion in his blue eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. But the people of Camelot need to be free from the reign of sorcery, for all our sakes.”
Merlin hung his head, not wanting Arthur or his father to see the hurt and pain in his eyes. Had everything between he and Arthur been a lie? It hadn’t seemed that way. Had he completely misread Arthur’s devotion to him? The love he claimed for Merlin?
Merlin collected himself and then addressed his father. “What’s to become of him?”
The look in Balinor’s eyes was grave. “The penalty for treason, as you know, is death. Arthur Pendragon will be executed by hanging at dawn tomorrow.” Balinor paused, searching his son’s face for some reaction. “He will be held in the dungeon until morning.” Balinor indicated to the two men holding Arthur to take him away.
They led him past Merlin who kept his eyes averted from meeting Arthur’s - not because he was hurt by his betrayal, but because he knew he would break down completely if he met those eyes.
Once Arthur was taken away, Merlin tried to reason with Balinor and when that failed, he pleaded with him. “Please, Father, please.”
“Merlin, the laws of Camelot are clear. Traitors must be put to death. We cannot bend the law simply to suit our fancy.” He continued gently. “I know this is hard for you. You have always been far too fond of Arthur Pendragon. And that fondness has unwittingly aided him in his efforts to overthrow our rule.”
“Are you saying Arthur has simply used me?” This was something Merlin did not want to think about.
“I’m saying that your fondness for and indulgence of Arthur may have caused you to turn a blind eye to his manipulation. Morgana has told me how Arthur has seduced you--”
“He did not seduce me!” Merlin countered strongly, adding angrily, “Morgana should not have told you such things.”
“Morgana is worried about you, Merlin,” his father said. “As am I. You have not been yourself lately.”
“Arthur has nothing to do with that,” Merlin asserted. “Please, Father. Please. Arthur does not deserve to die.”
Balinor looked at his son intently and for a moment, Merlin thought he would show mercy. But then he looked away, saying quietly, “I’m sorry, Merlin. I trust that you will abide by the laws of Camelot and not use your powers.” Balinor then strode from the Great Hall, leaving Merlin standing there, in utter anguish.
~*~*~*~*~
Merlin had already made up his mind. He would use his magic to free Arthur and help him escape to a place his father could not hurt him. It would be an easy task. He was, as everyone kept insisting, the greatest sorcerer in the kingdom.
He made quick work of immobilizing the sorcerers standing on guard in the dungeon. He uttered an incantation to unlock the cell - effortlessly - surprising Arthur who was sitting on the dirt floor, his back against the cold stone wall.
“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur asked. He did not rise from his spot on the floor.
“I can’t let you die,” Merlin answered. “I will use my magic to help get you out of Camelot.”
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said. “But I can’t let you do that.”
Merlin was stunned. “Why the hell not?” It had not occurred to him that Arthur would not allow him to help him escape.
Arthur gave him a weak smile and sighed. “Because,” he said. “It would go against everything you are, everything you stand for.” Merlin looked perplexed and Arthur continued, “You are a great sorcerer, Merlin, but you are an even better man. Magic is your gift, but it is not something to be used whenever it happens to suit your purpose. It would not be right."
“I don’t care,” Merlin argued, emotion weighing heavy now. He recognized the stubbornness in Arthur, the same stubbornness he knew well in Arthur, the prince. He knew this Arthur would not budge. He spoke softly, tears rimming his eyelids, stinging, “I don’t want you to die, Arthur.
“I know,” Arthur comforted. “But it’s the way it has to be.”
Arthur gestured for Merlin to come to him, and Merlin did, dropping down to the ground. He stretched out on the dirt floor, laying his head in Arthur’s lap. Arthur whispered soothing words while he stroked Merlin’s hair and cheek with his fingertips.
It was ironic. Arthur Pendragon was waiting to be put to death and it was he who was trying to comfort Merlin.
“I believe that you would have shown compassion for my father,” Arthur said after Merlin had settled and was lightly dozing, his head still in Arthur’s lap. “And that is the kind of king you will be, Merlin. Just promise me you will be that kind of king.”
Merlin didn’t want to be king. Not without Arthur. “I promise,” he whispered.
Arthur bent and brushed a kiss to Merlin’s temple. “Good. Now sleep.”
~*~*~*~*~
They came for Arthur just after dawn.
The sorcerers whom Merlin had rendered unconscious through magic had since awoken, had relocked the cell, leaving the prince with his servant in it, and had stayed on watch all night, waiting for Merlin to overpower them again with his magic. But, surprisingly, that did not happen. It seemed the condemned servant had a more powerful hold on the warlock prince.
Merlin glanced at Arthur imploringly as several sorcerers entered the cell the take Arthur to his death.
“I cannot watch you die, Arthur.”
Arthur smiled. “But I need you to, Merlin,” he said softly. “I need your sweet face to be last thing I see before I pass into the next life. Please.”
Merlin’s blue eyes filled with tears, but he nodded.
He followed Arthur and the sorcerer-guards out to the public square where the hanging would take place. It occurred to Merlin that in a Camelot ruled by magic that such a traditional method of execution should still be used. He supposed it was intended to represent to non-magic folk a less barbaric form of punishment than shooting magical fire bolts.
He squeezed through the sizeable crowd that had gathered to position himself right in front of the gallows. Merlin would not have chosen a front row seat for this, but he had to make sure Arthur could see him, to give him his last wish.
The crowd was subdued for the most part - mostly common folk who knew Arthur could be one of them one day. There were some jeers from a few warlocks and witches who were probably rejoicing that the son of Uther Pendragon, the man who had tried to rid Camelot of magic, was finally being put to death.
Merlin watched, his stomach sick, as the sorcerer-guards positioned Arthur in the gallows, placing the noose around his neck. Merlin saw Arthur scan the crowd, finding Merlin easily; he smiled and Merlin’s heart broke.
From the balcony, King Balinor announced Arthur’s crimes and his punishment. Merlin looked away from Arthur for only a moment to look at his father, still hoping for mercy. But though Balinor’s eyes were filled with sympathy for his son, they also showed determination for carrying out the law. Merlin was surprised to see Morgana standing next to his father, a smugly satisfied smile on her face. She caught Merlin’s eyes and her expression softened, her green eyes pleading him to forgive her. Merlin looked away.
Merlin’s eyes returned to Arthur, who stood as brave as a knight in the face of death. He saw Gaius not far from the gallows platform, making his way toward Merlin. The sorrowful empathy on the old man’s face called to mind his Gaius - the one who loved him like a son and understood him and his destiny. And, in the distance, Merlin caught a glimpse of Gwen, a fretful look on her face - not concern for Arthur whom she did not know, but worry and fear that all but spoke: If the Great Sorcerer and Prince of Camelot could not prevent his own manservant from being executed, what hope was there for the rest of Camelot?
Arthur stood brave and resolute, at peace with the fate that awaited him. At that moment, he was the Arthur Pendragon Merlin knew, had always known. The same one who had willingly set his head on the chopping block when Morgause had asked him to. And it was killing Merlin to see Arthur, the peasant servant who was really the noble prince, like this. And despite Arthur’s earlier plea not to, Merlin again considered using his magic to save this man whose destiny was intertwined with his own. But almost as though Arthur knew what Merlin was thinking, he met Merlin’s eyes and subtly shook his head as if to say “Please - don’t.” Merlin closed his eyes, his heart wrenching, and then reopened them to look at Arthur.
Arthur Pendragon had made his peace and was ready to die. He locked eyes with Merlin. “I love you, Merlin,” he mouthed, Merlin reading the words on his lips. “I’ll wait for you in the next life.”
Merlin’s eyes never left Arthur’s as the trapdoor of the gallows was released, the noose tightening around Arthur’s neck, and he was hanged.
Merlin sank to the ground in despair, hanging his head, sobbing. His heart felt like it had been torn from his chest and he cried out, “Arthur! Arthur, Arthur...”
*~*~*~*~*
“Merlin!”
Somebody was calling his name. Probably Gaius, who would now, in place of his father, try to comfort him. He lifted his head - it felt so heavy - forcing his eyelids open.
His eyes met a pair of blue ones, lively, familiar, comforting. Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur,” Merlin croaked out.
“I’m here, Merlin,” Arthur said softly.
Merlin said nothing, but simply put his arms around Arthur and pulled him close to him.
Arthur issued a startled grunt, but he let Merlin hug him close. Merlin’s eyes scanned around him. He was in Gaius’ quarters, on the make-shift bed used for those needing care.
“What happened?” he asked Arthur.
“Well, sleeping beauty, you’ve been out for two days,” Arthur told him. “Gaius thinks someone put a very powerful spell on you.”
“Really?” Merlin could not believe he had been asleep and dreaming all this time. He resisted the urge to pinch Arthur to make sure he was real. He settled for staring at his prince, not willing to take his eyes off him for even a moment.
“I had better fetch Gaius,” Arthur said suddenly. He started to move away from the bed but Merlin caught his hand with his own, stopping him.
“Just stay with me,” he implored softly.
Arthur sat down on the edge of the cot-bed, keeping his fingers loosely twined with Merlin’s.
“I had the strangest dream,” Merlin told him, liking the feel of Arthur’s fingers tangled with his. It made him feel safe, loved.
Arthur smiled and closed his fingers more tightly around Merlin’s. “I want you to tell me all about it,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.
And in those eyes was something Merlin had not before recognized. But now he knew, having seen it in the servant Arthur’s eyes, was, truly, love.
THE END
Part 1 @ http://thecheekydragon.livejournal.com/12985.html
Part 2 @ http://thecheekydragon.livejournal.com/13067.html
IT SO HAPPENED ONE DAY: PART 3
He felt agitated. He supposed it had been the conversation with Gwen that had him riled, finding out that people with magic routinely harassed and terrorized those who didn’t and that his father, through his inaction, supported this unjust behaviour. Merlin had not agreed with Uther Pendragon’s punitive suppression of magic in the Camelot he knew, but Merlin also did not believe that this was the right way for the people of Camelot to live.
He went to see Gaius in hopes to understand this world he found himself in, a world he was now an active part of.
Gaius was preparing an herbal draught of some sort and he raised an eyebrow at Merlin when he picked up the stone mortar and pestle and began crushing plant leaves.
“Be careful not to crush the leaves too fine,” Gaius cautioned, continuing his mixing and measuring.
Merlin gave the court physician a mildly frustrated look. “Gaius, I have crushed this herb for a draught a hundred times before. I know it mixes best when not too fine.”
Gaius arched another brow at him. “I beg your pardon, Merlin, but you have never crushed any herb or mixed any draught in your life.”
Merlin’s countenance remained smugly petulant as he showed Gaius the mortar with the prepared herbs, knowing that the leaves were crushed exactly to Gaius’ liking. To his credit, Gaius expressed only mild surprise, taking the bowl from Merlin and dumping the contents into another one.
“Don’t tell me that, as prince, I have done nothing but read your magic book my entire life,” Merlin commented, his mood becoming increasingly foul.
“My magic book?” Gaius looked amused. “You surpassed the magic in that, my dear boy, by the age of six.”
Now it was Merlin’s turn to be surprised. Though, he supposed he shouldn’t have been since, in this life, his magic had been recognized and cultivated since birth. Why would he have had need of Gaius’ book or guidance?
“There’s too much magic in Camelot,” Merlin said. “We would all do well to practice less of it.”
“Merlin, I know that you have never fully supported your father’s stance on the free use of magic in Camelot...” Gaius started to say with understanding.
“If it were only free use!” Merlin exclaimed hotly, his anger building. “My father seems to believe that people with magic can do whatever they wish, that they can use magic to hurt people like Gwen.”
“Gwen?”
Even though he had expected Gaius not to know Gwen, Merlin found himself growing more and more infuriated. “Yes, Gwen! She’s the blacksmith’s daughter! She’s my friend!”
Gaius spoke softly, kindly. “Once you are king, Merlin, you will right the wrongs you believe exist.”
“But I’m not meant to be king, Gaius!” Merlin shouted with strong emotion. “That’s Arthur’s destiny, not mine!” Merlin wished he could make Gaius, the man who had been a father to him in his other life, understand.
Gaius looked puzzled. “Arthur Pendragon? Your servant?” he questioned. “Why ever, Merlin, would you think that Arthur was meant to be king?”
Merlin could feel tears springing up behind his eyelids. “Because that is the way it is supposed to be, Gaius,” he said quietly. “Arthur is brave, noble, compassionate - much greater and stronger than I can ever hope to be, even with my magic. And this will make him the greatest king of all of Albion.” Merlin looked at the old man with imploring eyes. “Why can’t you just believe me, Gaius? Trust that what I say is how things should be?”
“Merlin,” Gaius said sympathetically, but Merlin could tell from the way Gaius avoided looking him squarely in the eyes that he did not believe nor trust him. “I know you have always been very fond of Arthur--”
“This is not about that!”
“-but you have not been yourself lately,” Gaius continued. “Talking nonsense about not being the Prince of Camelot and having lived another life. I dare say, Merlin, you need some rest. I have a sleeping draught that should--”
“I don’t need a sleeping draught!” Merlin yelled. He needed Gaius to believe him, to help him make sense of all that was going on. Without consciously intending to, fuelled by his frustration, Merlin magically amplified the candle flame that was burning on the side table near Gaius tenfold, causing Gaius to move back quickly.
“I’m sorry,” was all Merlin could say as he rushed from Gaius’ quarters.
~*~*~*~*
He needed to find Arthur. In this entire strange experience, Arthur had seemed to be his one constant, the person who trusted him, never questioned him or his sanity, the one who was able to take his pain and hurt away, even if only temporarily.
Merlin wished he could count on Gaius to help him through this, but Gaius did not seem to understand what Merlin was going through. Still, it had been wrong of him to lash out at the old man. Merlin felt ashamed at having used his magic irresponsibly and without thought to the consequences. This is what he was fighting against after all.
But he had been so angry, so full of anguish at not being able to make Gaius understand, to garner his support. This life may be a sorcerer’s dream, but it was not his dream.
He had a father in this life that he had never known in the other. But the Balinor in this life had turned out to be a self-serving king who allowed the misuse and unjust practice of magic to run rampant in Camelot. Merlin desperately missed the love and moral guidance of his mother, who had always understood Merlin’s unique abilities and had nurtured him to act in kindness and with compassion.
Merlin missed the close friendship he had shared with Gwen and the beautiful smile she gave so readily. He missed the goodness of her heart and the way she laughed at the simplest of things.
Merlin was glad to see Morgana again, but he was terribly uncomfortable with this Morgana fawning all over him. Morgana had been his friend and he had loved her, but he was sure they were never destined to be married.
And Arthur...
Merlin loved this Arthur, there was no question of it. This Arthur was gentle and loving and he made Merlin feel like nothing else existed in the world. But he supposed he had loved Arthur, the prince, as well, even if they had not shared such an intimate relationship. And Merlin also supposed he did kind of miss Arthur’s playful jabs and teasing retorts and the way Arthur trusted him and believed in him, even if Merlin had been only a mere servant.
Merlin continued to look for Arthur, desperate to find him. He needed him right now. He needed to feel Arthur against him, his lips touching his, his breath on his skin.
He finally found Arthur toiling at some organizational tasks in a room not far from his chambers. Without greeting, Merlin grabbed Arthur by the hand, pulling him, saying with desperation, “I need you, Arthur. Now.”
Arthur let Merlin pull him along to his chambers, not saying a word. Inside his rooms, Merlin launched himself rather desperately at Arthur, taking his mouth roughly with his, tugging at his tunic and the laces of his breeches, wanting to eliminate the barriers to feeling skin-on-skin. His desire for Arthur was so intense, so needy that he found himself fumbling and frantic-like in trying to remove both sets of garments while continuing his onslaught on Arthur’s mouth with lips and tongue.
Arthur took Merlin’s face in his hands and gently forced his mouth away. “Merlin?” he asked, blue eyes searching blue.
“I need you, want you,” Merlin said. “I need you to make love to me, Arthur. To take the hurt away. You’re the only one who can do that.”
Arthur led Merlin to the canopied bed. He quickly removed his tunic and shed his breeches, then helped Merlin cast his own garments aside. He pulled Merlin onto the bed with him.
Soon, Merlin was completely lost in Arthur’s sensual foreplay. He arched into every kiss, every touch, desperately needing to be as close to Arthur as possible. Merlin felt completely melded into Arthur’s body, and was anticipating the ultimate act that would bring them even closer, when Arthur suddenly pulled up and away from him.
“Arthur,” Merlin whined, clinging to him.
“Shhh...” Arthur soothed, brushing his lips softly across Merlin’s. He quickly rolled them over so that he was lying on the bed, Merlin now on top of him. He kissed Merlin’s mouth, then trailed a path down his throat with his tongue. “Make love to me, Merlin. I want you to lose yourself in pleasure.”
So Merlin did, feeling such a liberating release in carrying out his desires, Arthur meeting his every demand with equal passion. It was strange that Arthur knew that this was what Merlin had really needed. To lose himself completely in the pleasure that was Arthur.
And when the crescendo hit, it was pure ecstasy. “Oh, Arthur!” Merlin cried out. “I lo--” he started to proclaim but the rest of his words were lost with Arthur’s mouth on his, swallowed into a deep kiss that helped Merlin ride out his release.
They lay, bodies entwined, skin still burning and sweat-soaked. Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s chest, weary but happy. Arthur cupped Merlin’s face and tenderly stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. For Merlin, nothing felt more right in this world right now than this.
“Merlin!” a voice suddenly shrilled, yanking both Merlin and Arthur out of their reverie.
Merlin’s attention darted to the source and he saw Morgana standing inside the doorway, a look of fierceness on her face.
Merlin rolled quickly out of the bed, grabbing for his breeches. As he attempted to pull them on, Morgana lashed out with magic, her wrath channelled through flames from the fireplace, which she shot across the room at Arthur.
With quick agility, Arthur managed to dodge the flame that was aimed directly at his chest, but got caught with one in the shoulder as he dived for the floor.
“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed. He cursed himself for not having been able to counter or deflect Morgana’s magic with his own but, in truth, Merlin had not realized the extent and strength of the Morgana of this world’s magical powers until just now.
Having done her damage, Morgana turned heel and hurried from his chambers.
Merlin started for Arthur, but Arthur waved him on, telling him, “Go!”
Merlin rushed out of his chambers. “Morgana!” he called, attempting to grab for her arm to stop her.
Morgana whirled on him, her green eyes flashing. “How dare you!” she accused, slapping him sharply across the face. Merlin kept his eyes on the stone floor of the hallway as he let the sting subside. “Him,” she bit out, referring to Arthur, “I can understand. He’s a no-good peasant scoundrel who is crazy-mad in love with you. But you--” Morgana’s face contorted in frustrated anger, “You, Merlin, are the prince, the future king, a great warlock, my husband-to-be. You’re supposed to be better than that.”
Merlin felt ashamed. What she said was no doubt true but this wasn’t even Merlin’s life - at least not the life he had been living for most of the one he remembered. “Morgana, I...”
Morgana fixed him with a steely stare. “Don’t bother, Merlin,” she said. “Arthur may be what you want, but I have no intention of sharing you once we’re married, so you had better get him out of your system. And I shall warn you--Arthur Pendragon will stab you in the back with a dagger if you give him the chance. Just remember that.”
Morgana turned on her heels and walked determinedly away. Merlin watched her go, wondering if she would now go to his father to inform him of his un-princely misdeeds with his miscreant servant. Then he hurried back to Arthur.
Arthur was sitting the floor, his back propped up against the bed. He had replaced his breeches but the ties still hung loose. He had his right hand pressed to his left shoulder, his face etched with pain, but he quickly smoothed his features when Merlin came into view.
Merlin knelt down in front of him. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling Arthur’s hand away from his shoulder, revealing a sizeable patch of scorched flesh.
“Never felt better,” Arthur joked bravely and Merlin quickly smiled to hide the ache in his heart at seeing Arthur hurt. But Arthur must have noticed that he had gotten pale and that, despite the smile, his eyebrows had bunched in concern and he was now fretting his lower lip, because he said gently, “Don’t worry, Merlin, it’s not that bad.”
Merlin pressed a hand to Arthur’s wounded flesh, using his magic to heal it. Arthur was probably right, but Merlin couldn’t help feeling that this was all his fault, that Arthur had been hurt because of him. He removed his hand and examined his efforts. The scorching had diminished but there was a two-inch scar left. Merlin traced it with his finger.
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he said. “I’m sorry Morgana hurt you.”
“She’s angry, Merlin. Jealous,” Arthur gave excuse. He looked at Merlin intently. “Because she knows you’re mine.”
The tears threatened to spill but Merlin held them back fiercely. “That doesn’t give her the right to hurt you,” he told Arthur. “Magic should never be used to hurt people.”
Arthur gave him a half-smile then rested his forehead against Merlin’s, whispering softly, “And that is why I love you, Merlin.”
*~*~*~*~*
Merlin had been summoned to the Great Hall by his father. He had no idea what Balinor wanted, but Merlin suspected it had something to do with Arthur.
So, he was not surprised to see Arthur in attendance when he responded to his father’s request. Merlin was surprised, however, to see Arthur flanked by two men - sorcerers - as though he was being held.
“Father?” Merlin immediately questioned, a panic rising in him. If Morgana had regaled his father about tales of he and Arthur....
“Merlin,” his father began with grave tone that did nothing to qualm his panic.
Merlin cast a glance at Arthur, hoping to glimpse some inkling of what was afoot, but Arthur stood stone-faced, his eyes directed at the floor of the Great Hall.
“I am afraid, Merlin,” his father said gently, “that your manservant has been conspiring to overthrow our rule.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Merlin cried in response, not wanting to hear another word.
Balinor looked at him with patience. “I’m afraid there is strong evidence to support this. He has been actively recruiting others to his cause and has amassed a supply of weapons and battle armour. The caches have been discovered--”
“No!” Merlin shouted, now shaking. “Arthur would never go against us. Against me.”
“Merlin, I know that you have put your trust in Arthur Pendragon, too much trust it would seem, but--”
“Arthur,” Merlin appealed to his servant, his friend, his lover. “Tell him you would not do this. That you would never do this to me.”
Arthur now looked at him and before he even spoke, Merlin knew that what his father said was true.
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said and there was deep regret and emotion in his blue eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. But the people of Camelot need to be free from the reign of sorcery, for all our sakes.”
Merlin hung his head, not wanting Arthur or his father to see the hurt and pain in his eyes. Had everything between he and Arthur been a lie? It hadn’t seemed that way. Had he completely misread Arthur’s devotion to him? The love he claimed for Merlin?
Merlin collected himself and then addressed his father. “What’s to become of him?”
The look in Balinor’s eyes was grave. “The penalty for treason, as you know, is death. Arthur Pendragon will be executed by hanging at dawn tomorrow.” Balinor paused, searching his son’s face for some reaction. “He will be held in the dungeon until morning.” Balinor indicated to the two men holding Arthur to take him away.
They led him past Merlin who kept his eyes averted from meeting Arthur’s - not because he was hurt by his betrayal, but because he knew he would break down completely if he met those eyes.
Once Arthur was taken away, Merlin tried to reason with Balinor and when that failed, he pleaded with him. “Please, Father, please.”
“Merlin, the laws of Camelot are clear. Traitors must be put to death. We cannot bend the law simply to suit our fancy.” He continued gently. “I know this is hard for you. You have always been far too fond of Arthur Pendragon. And that fondness has unwittingly aided him in his efforts to overthrow our rule.”
“Are you saying Arthur has simply used me?” This was something Merlin did not want to think about.
“I’m saying that your fondness for and indulgence of Arthur may have caused you to turn a blind eye to his manipulation. Morgana has told me how Arthur has seduced you--”
“He did not seduce me!” Merlin countered strongly, adding angrily, “Morgana should not have told you such things.”
“Morgana is worried about you, Merlin,” his father said. “As am I. You have not been yourself lately.”
“Arthur has nothing to do with that,” Merlin asserted. “Please, Father. Please. Arthur does not deserve to die.”
Balinor looked at his son intently and for a moment, Merlin thought he would show mercy. But then he looked away, saying quietly, “I’m sorry, Merlin. I trust that you will abide by the laws of Camelot and not use your powers.” Balinor then strode from the Great Hall, leaving Merlin standing there, in utter anguish.
~*~*~*~*~
Merlin had already made up his mind. He would use his magic to free Arthur and help him escape to a place his father could not hurt him. It would be an easy task. He was, as everyone kept insisting, the greatest sorcerer in the kingdom.
He made quick work of immobilizing the sorcerers standing on guard in the dungeon. He uttered an incantation to unlock the cell - effortlessly - surprising Arthur who was sitting on the dirt floor, his back against the cold stone wall.
“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur asked. He did not rise from his spot on the floor.
“I can’t let you die,” Merlin answered. “I will use my magic to help get you out of Camelot.”
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said. “But I can’t let you do that.”
Merlin was stunned. “Why the hell not?” It had not occurred to him that Arthur would not allow him to help him escape.
Arthur gave him a weak smile and sighed. “Because,” he said. “It would go against everything you are, everything you stand for.” Merlin looked perplexed and Arthur continued, “You are a great sorcerer, Merlin, but you are an even better man. Magic is your gift, but it is not something to be used whenever it happens to suit your purpose. It would not be right."
“I don’t care,” Merlin argued, emotion weighing heavy now. He recognized the stubbornness in Arthur, the same stubbornness he knew well in Arthur, the prince. He knew this Arthur would not budge. He spoke softly, tears rimming his eyelids, stinging, “I don’t want you to die, Arthur.
“I know,” Arthur comforted. “But it’s the way it has to be.”
Arthur gestured for Merlin to come to him, and Merlin did, dropping down to the ground. He stretched out on the dirt floor, laying his head in Arthur’s lap. Arthur whispered soothing words while he stroked Merlin’s hair and cheek with his fingertips.
It was ironic. Arthur Pendragon was waiting to be put to death and it was he who was trying to comfort Merlin.
“I believe that you would have shown compassion for my father,” Arthur said after Merlin had settled and was lightly dozing, his head still in Arthur’s lap. “And that is the kind of king you will be, Merlin. Just promise me you will be that kind of king.”
Merlin didn’t want to be king. Not without Arthur. “I promise,” he whispered.
Arthur bent and brushed a kiss to Merlin’s temple. “Good. Now sleep.”
~*~*~*~*~
They came for Arthur just after dawn.
The sorcerers whom Merlin had rendered unconscious through magic had since awoken, had relocked the cell, leaving the prince with his servant in it, and had stayed on watch all night, waiting for Merlin to overpower them again with his magic. But, surprisingly, that did not happen. It seemed the condemned servant had a more powerful hold on the warlock prince.
Merlin glanced at Arthur imploringly as several sorcerers entered the cell the take Arthur to his death.
“I cannot watch you die, Arthur.”
Arthur smiled. “But I need you to, Merlin,” he said softly. “I need your sweet face to be last thing I see before I pass into the next life. Please.”
Merlin’s blue eyes filled with tears, but he nodded.
He followed Arthur and the sorcerer-guards out to the public square where the hanging would take place. It occurred to Merlin that in a Camelot ruled by magic that such a traditional method of execution should still be used. He supposed it was intended to represent to non-magic folk a less barbaric form of punishment than shooting magical fire bolts.
He squeezed through the sizeable crowd that had gathered to position himself right in front of the gallows. Merlin would not have chosen a front row seat for this, but he had to make sure Arthur could see him, to give him his last wish.
The crowd was subdued for the most part - mostly common folk who knew Arthur could be one of them one day. There were some jeers from a few warlocks and witches who were probably rejoicing that the son of Uther Pendragon, the man who had tried to rid Camelot of magic, was finally being put to death.
Merlin watched, his stomach sick, as the sorcerer-guards positioned Arthur in the gallows, placing the noose around his neck. Merlin saw Arthur scan the crowd, finding Merlin easily; he smiled and Merlin’s heart broke.
From the balcony, King Balinor announced Arthur’s crimes and his punishment. Merlin looked away from Arthur for only a moment to look at his father, still hoping for mercy. But though Balinor’s eyes were filled with sympathy for his son, they also showed determination for carrying out the law. Merlin was surprised to see Morgana standing next to his father, a smugly satisfied smile on her face. She caught Merlin’s eyes and her expression softened, her green eyes pleading him to forgive her. Merlin looked away.
Merlin’s eyes returned to Arthur, who stood as brave as a knight in the face of death. He saw Gaius not far from the gallows platform, making his way toward Merlin. The sorrowful empathy on the old man’s face called to mind his Gaius - the one who loved him like a son and understood him and his destiny. And, in the distance, Merlin caught a glimpse of Gwen, a fretful look on her face - not concern for Arthur whom she did not know, but worry and fear that all but spoke: If the Great Sorcerer and Prince of Camelot could not prevent his own manservant from being executed, what hope was there for the rest of Camelot?
Arthur stood brave and resolute, at peace with the fate that awaited him. At that moment, he was the Arthur Pendragon Merlin knew, had always known. The same one who had willingly set his head on the chopping block when Morgause had asked him to. And it was killing Merlin to see Arthur, the peasant servant who was really the noble prince, like this. And despite Arthur’s earlier plea not to, Merlin again considered using his magic to save this man whose destiny was intertwined with his own. But almost as though Arthur knew what Merlin was thinking, he met Merlin’s eyes and subtly shook his head as if to say “Please - don’t.” Merlin closed his eyes, his heart wrenching, and then reopened them to look at Arthur.
Arthur Pendragon had made his peace and was ready to die. He locked eyes with Merlin. “I love you, Merlin,” he mouthed, Merlin reading the words on his lips. “I’ll wait for you in the next life.”
Merlin’s eyes never left Arthur’s as the trapdoor of the gallows was released, the noose tightening around Arthur’s neck, and he was hanged.
Merlin sank to the ground in despair, hanging his head, sobbing. His heart felt like it had been torn from his chest and he cried out, “Arthur! Arthur, Arthur...”
*~*~*~*~*
“Merlin!”
Somebody was calling his name. Probably Gaius, who would now, in place of his father, try to comfort him. He lifted his head - it felt so heavy - forcing his eyelids open.
His eyes met a pair of blue ones, lively, familiar, comforting. Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur,” Merlin croaked out.
“I’m here, Merlin,” Arthur said softly.
Merlin said nothing, but simply put his arms around Arthur and pulled him close to him.
Arthur issued a startled grunt, but he let Merlin hug him close. Merlin’s eyes scanned around him. He was in Gaius’ quarters, on the make-shift bed used for those needing care.
“What happened?” he asked Arthur.
“Well, sleeping beauty, you’ve been out for two days,” Arthur told him. “Gaius thinks someone put a very powerful spell on you.”
“Really?” Merlin could not believe he had been asleep and dreaming all this time. He resisted the urge to pinch Arthur to make sure he was real. He settled for staring at his prince, not willing to take his eyes off him for even a moment.
“I had better fetch Gaius,” Arthur said suddenly. He started to move away from the bed but Merlin caught his hand with his own, stopping him.
“Just stay with me,” he implored softly.
Arthur sat down on the edge of the cot-bed, keeping his fingers loosely twined with Merlin’s.
“I had the strangest dream,” Merlin told him, liking the feel of Arthur’s fingers tangled with his. It made him feel safe, loved.
Arthur smiled and closed his fingers more tightly around Merlin’s. “I want you to tell me all about it,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.
And in those eyes was something Merlin had not before recognized. But now he knew, having seen it in the servant Arthur’s eyes, was, truly, love.
THE END