Fic: Come Gladly Away, Chapter 3
Title: Come Gladly Away 3/?
Rating: PG-13 for the moment
Warnings: None, but some mentioned discrimination against the mentally disabled. Also, references to attempted non-con.
Summary: Merlin was banished from Camelot five years ago, after an incident revealed his magic - and no one has heard of him since. Arthur is now King, and he wants him back.
AN: Sorry for the long wait!
**
Previous Chapter:
Part One - Part Two
**
For about half an hour, they rode in silence, until Rainsford was well behind them, then Arthur spoke up.
“You didn’t mention that people had tried to - violate you.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘rape’ but from the way Merlin stiffened behind him he heard the unspoken word anyway.
“What?” he asked, trying for casualness.
“Taverner told me. Said I should think twice about damn well buying you off him because you weren’t an easy tumble.” Arthur’s voice was bitter with anger. “Did he try? He said some other people had.”
Merlin shrugged, but didn’t answer for about a minute. “People tried.” He said, slowly. “Not Taverner. And none of them succeeded. I’m a warlock, Arthur, even if I was damn good at hiding it. Even those I couldn’t fight off didn’t manage anything.”
“It shouldn’t happen.” Arthur said, low and intense.
“But it does.” Merlin said wearily. “You know full well it does. How many chambermaids and stable-boys have you had?”
Arthur reined the horse in, insulted beyond words. “Never against their will!” He snapped and Merlin sighed.
“I know, I’m sorry. That was unkind.”
Somewhat mollified, Arthur nudged the horse back into a slow walk. “When we’re back in Camelot, it’s one of the things I’m going to change,” he said quietly, “and no one will have to worry about speaking up. And I’m going to make sure you never get hurt.”
“You’ll be a little busy being King, Arthur.” Merlin pointed out dryly. “I really don’t need protection, especially not if I can use magic openly. I wasn’t lying all those years ago when I said I could take you apart with less than one blow.” He paused. “But thank you.”
Arthur chuckled against his own will. “I suppose I don’t have to worry about you so much - not with all your magic. That’s not going to stop me wanting to hurt people. There’ll be days when I’ll want to poke out the eyes of anyone who looks at you funny.”
“How sweet.” Merlin said, amused, and Arthur chuckled again.
“I never realised how good a friend you were until you weren’t there anymore.” He admitted after a brief pause. “I’d never really had friends before. Just people who wanted to know the prince.”
“I did miss you, Arthur.” Merlin said, softly. “But the way I left court… and the things that happened before, with me and Nimueh - I couldn’t have come back, even after Uther - after your father died.”
“I understand.” Arthur nodded. “But I’m glad you’re coming back now.”
“Yeah. Me too.” They rode in silence for another mile or so, before Merlin broke the silence this time. “How did you react? When you found out - about me?” he asked curiously.
“None of us knew it was Nimueh at first.” Arthur pointed out. “I couldn’t believe you would - betray me like that.” Merlin rested his forehead against Arthur’s shoulder for a moment, evidently the only comfort he felt he could give, so many years after the fact. Arthur paused, thinking back. “I was - angry. With you, of course, and with myself for getting caught out like that. I’d been told so many times that all people wanted from me was what I could give them, and we’d been - friends.”
“Yes.” Merlin said firmly. “I wouldn’t... I understand why you felt like that, but Arthur, I would never...”
“I know that now.” Arthur said quickly. “At the time, things were different. We were different then.”
“But you understood, afterwards? You knew why I didn’t say anything?”
Arthur’s laugh was rather forced, grating. “Not at the time. It was only when I calmed down and thought back that I realized I’d given you no reason to trust me with it; I’d never even hinted I wouldn’t have you killed for sorcery. Even then I couldn’t believe you hadn’t trusted me.”
“Does it help to know that I wanted to?”
“I already know that now. I didn’t then. I didn’t know a lot of things back then. When you left, after everything that had come to light,” Arthur gathered the reins into one hand, rubbing at his eyes with gloved fingers, “it took a long time for things to come back into perspective. Everything had been thrown up into the air and it took months for them to settle back. When they did, the landscape had changed.”
Merlin seemed to be considering that. “I wanted to trust you,” he repeated quietly, “but when we went back to Ealdor, after I’d first come to Camelot, you were so angry when you thought Will had used magic. I assumed-”
“That that was how I would react.” Arthur said heavily. Merlin’s silence was agreement enough. “That was four years earlier, Merlin. And I didn’t know then that it was you, I was told it was William - and it was better to believe that than the alternative.” Arthur smiled to himself. “Neither of us had liked the other and then he died for me. I was guilty and off-balance and it made me angry. I wouldn’t have taken it like that if you’d told me before everything - came out like that.” Another brief silence. “What was it like for you, when you first left?”
“Difficult.” Merlin said, shortly, and refused to be drawn on it any further. Arthur made a mental note to ask him about it at a later date.
Arthur was silently surprised at how well Merlin seemed to be dealing with everything; he didn’t seem upset or particularly thrown by the sudden turn-up of events, and he couldn’t up but wonder just how much the other man was internalising his reactions. Which meant he had to worry about how bad the fall-out was going to be. He’d seen similar reactions in young knights newly back from war; those who seemed fine were often the worst affected of all. Or they were the ones to be careful of, the ones who got too much of a taste for it.
He was going to be watching Merlin carefully, to make sure his friend did nothing stupid. He wasn’t going to lose the other man twice.
Miraculously, it was Merlin which broke the brief silence this time. “So, what’s changed in Camelot since I was last there?” he asked lightly, and Arthur seized on the topic eagerly.
“Well, they’ve finally finished building the baths…”
They filled the long ride back down to Glenburn with idle conversation, both of them keeping well away from either of the serious subjects - they’d had their fill of them for the moment. The serious things, the talks they needed to have, the healing both of them needed to do, could come later. For once, neither of them wanted to rush things. If they had learnt anything over the last five years apart, it was patience. For the time being it was enough to be together again, re-learning each other and getting used to the kind of easy companionship they found with each other.
Arthur had been in Glenburn only the week before, but had taken a much longer route to Rainsford, passing through as many villages as he could find on the way. He had, he told Merlin easily, been on the road for nearly a month now, as had his knights; the search had been widespread. If he had been able to see Merlin, he would have seen the blush which spread high across his cheekbones at that.
He’d been through every town and village he knew of and some he didn’t, meeting as many of the young men as possible, hoping to come across his old servant or someone who knew more of him than the common rumours.
“Really,” he pointed out lazily, “I should have realised you’d be as far away from Camelot as possible.”
“I could have been trying to hide in plain sight,” Merlin suggested, but Arthur shook his head.
“No, Merlin, I don’t think so. You’re an idiot, but you’re not that bad.”
“Well, aren’t you just a charmer?” Merlin retorted. “The years haven’t made you any nicer, I see.”
Arthur just laughed in response; he’d missed their back-chat. Since Merlin had been banished, the only person who dared to speak to him like that was Morgana, and it wasn’t quite the same.
Glenburn had been like every other provincial town Arthur had been through in the last few weeks, and unsurprisingly nothing had changed in the week since he’d passed through it. He took them to what he had heard was the best inn in the town; he hadn’t stayed there before because he knew from painful experience that the obviously privileged received nothing but jealousy and evasions, and he couldn’t risk losing a vital lead for his own comfort. Now his quest was over there was no reason to stint himself, and he was willing to bet that Merlin hadn’t had a comfortable bed since he’d been thrown out of Camelot with nothing.
He was surprised to feel Merlin pulling back away from him as they neared the centre of town, taking care to sit back, effectively disassociating himself from Arthur.
“Who do you want me to be?” he asked, very softly.
Arthur half turned his head. “What?” he asked, confused.
“Am I your servant, a peasant you were helping…?”
“You’re my friend,” Arthur stressed, annoyance layered thick in his voice. “Like I’ve been saying, Merlin.”
“Arthur, have a little common sense,” Merlin retorted, sounding almost sharp. “No one’s going to believe I’m a friend of yours.”
“Things are going to start changing in Albion.” Arthur said grimly. “And in the meantime, while I’m paying them, they’ll believe whatever I damn well tell them to. If anyone makes any comment, I’ll deal with it.”
Merlin’s only response was silence, but his disbelief was evident from the way he refused to move forward again, preferring instead to hold on to the saddle as they rode through the town.
When they reached the inn, Arthur went to help Merlin down off the horse without thinking, only to find the Merlin gave him a Look and slid lightly to the ground himself. Arthur refused to flush. Future kings didn’t flush.
Instead, he busied himself with removing the two saddle bags which had been making Merlin’s journey uncomfortable for the past few hours - so uncomfortable, he had actually opted to get down and walk for at intervals, ostensibly to ‘save the horse’. When that was done, he turned back to the stable yard.
“Hi, you.” he flicked a small coin at one of the stable boys. “Take my horse, rub him down, and feed him. And I’ll know if you stint him.”
“Yes, master.” The boy, no more than ten, sketched a rough bow and led the horse away. Arthur watched for a moment, making sure everything seemed to be in order, before turning back to Merlin.
“Shall we?” He gestured to the inn door.
“Thank you.” If Merlin’s expression was just a little wry, Arthur chose to ignore it.
He was more than a little taken aback when the innkeeper gave Merlin a filthy glare. “What do you want?” the man asked him, peremptorily, “If you’re here for alms, it’s round the back, I won’t have begging in my taproom!”
Merlin gave Arthur a speaking look, and Arthur frowned back at the innkeeper. “He’s with me,” he said firmly, and the man frowned back at him in confusion.
“What, my lord?” He asked, with a frown. “I - this fellow? With you?”
“Yes.” Arthur said, shortly. “And I want to bespeak one of your rooms - and a bath for my friend as quickly as possible.”
“A-a room?”
“You are an inn, aren’t you?” Arthur asked, sharply. “Do you have a room free or not?”
“Er, yes, sir. Sorry, my lord, I was, um, wool-gathering.” With one last, harried glance at Merlin, he hurried to fetch a book. “We have a fine room available for your lordship, and your servant can sleep with-”
“No.” Arthur overrode him, flatly. “One room, two beds.”
“But, my lord…”
“Trust me, sir, I understand very well what I want.”
“Of- of course you do, sir. Then we have a very quiet room at the back of the inn, perfect for you and your…” he waited for a cue from Arthur, and, on receiving none, chose the path of least potential offence. “Friend.”
“Indeed.” Arthur turned away, and the innkeeper scurried to lead them up to the room. It was only once he had gained Arthur’s approval of the room - Merlin wouldn’t have dared make any criticisms at that point - did he take the opportunity to make hastily for the door, only to be stopped by Arthur’s voice, at its most authoritative. “Send a bath up to us, would you? And some food. And send for a tailor.”
“A bath, food, and a tailor. Of course, my lord. Will that be everything?”
“For the moment. Thank you for your help.” Arthur’s smile was polite, but cool, and the innkeeper finally made good his escape.
**
Part Four
Rating: PG-13 for the moment
Warnings: None, but some mentioned discrimination against the mentally disabled. Also, references to attempted non-con.
Summary: Merlin was banished from Camelot five years ago, after an incident revealed his magic - and no one has heard of him since. Arthur is now King, and he wants him back.
AN: Sorry for the long wait!
**
Previous Chapter:
Part One - Part Two
**
For about half an hour, they rode in silence, until Rainsford was well behind them, then Arthur spoke up.
“You didn’t mention that people had tried to - violate you.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘rape’ but from the way Merlin stiffened behind him he heard the unspoken word anyway.
“What?” he asked, trying for casualness.
“Taverner told me. Said I should think twice about damn well buying you off him because you weren’t an easy tumble.” Arthur’s voice was bitter with anger. “Did he try? He said some other people had.”
Merlin shrugged, but didn’t answer for about a minute. “People tried.” He said, slowly. “Not Taverner. And none of them succeeded. I’m a warlock, Arthur, even if I was damn good at hiding it. Even those I couldn’t fight off didn’t manage anything.”
“It shouldn’t happen.” Arthur said, low and intense.
“But it does.” Merlin said wearily. “You know full well it does. How many chambermaids and stable-boys have you had?”
Arthur reined the horse in, insulted beyond words. “Never against their will!” He snapped and Merlin sighed.
“I know, I’m sorry. That was unkind.”
Somewhat mollified, Arthur nudged the horse back into a slow walk. “When we’re back in Camelot, it’s one of the things I’m going to change,” he said quietly, “and no one will have to worry about speaking up. And I’m going to make sure you never get hurt.”
“You’ll be a little busy being King, Arthur.” Merlin pointed out dryly. “I really don’t need protection, especially not if I can use magic openly. I wasn’t lying all those years ago when I said I could take you apart with less than one blow.” He paused. “But thank you.”
Arthur chuckled against his own will. “I suppose I don’t have to worry about you so much - not with all your magic. That’s not going to stop me wanting to hurt people. There’ll be days when I’ll want to poke out the eyes of anyone who looks at you funny.”
“How sweet.” Merlin said, amused, and Arthur chuckled again.
“I never realised how good a friend you were until you weren’t there anymore.” He admitted after a brief pause. “I’d never really had friends before. Just people who wanted to know the prince.”
“I did miss you, Arthur.” Merlin said, softly. “But the way I left court… and the things that happened before, with me and Nimueh - I couldn’t have come back, even after Uther - after your father died.”
“I understand.” Arthur nodded. “But I’m glad you’re coming back now.”
“Yeah. Me too.” They rode in silence for another mile or so, before Merlin broke the silence this time. “How did you react? When you found out - about me?” he asked curiously.
“None of us knew it was Nimueh at first.” Arthur pointed out. “I couldn’t believe you would - betray me like that.” Merlin rested his forehead against Arthur’s shoulder for a moment, evidently the only comfort he felt he could give, so many years after the fact. Arthur paused, thinking back. “I was - angry. With you, of course, and with myself for getting caught out like that. I’d been told so many times that all people wanted from me was what I could give them, and we’d been - friends.”
“Yes.” Merlin said firmly. “I wouldn’t... I understand why you felt like that, but Arthur, I would never...”
“I know that now.” Arthur said quickly. “At the time, things were different. We were different then.”
“But you understood, afterwards? You knew why I didn’t say anything?”
Arthur’s laugh was rather forced, grating. “Not at the time. It was only when I calmed down and thought back that I realized I’d given you no reason to trust me with it; I’d never even hinted I wouldn’t have you killed for sorcery. Even then I couldn’t believe you hadn’t trusted me.”
“Does it help to know that I wanted to?”
“I already know that now. I didn’t then. I didn’t know a lot of things back then. When you left, after everything that had come to light,” Arthur gathered the reins into one hand, rubbing at his eyes with gloved fingers, “it took a long time for things to come back into perspective. Everything had been thrown up into the air and it took months for them to settle back. When they did, the landscape had changed.”
Merlin seemed to be considering that. “I wanted to trust you,” he repeated quietly, “but when we went back to Ealdor, after I’d first come to Camelot, you were so angry when you thought Will had used magic. I assumed-”
“That that was how I would react.” Arthur said heavily. Merlin’s silence was agreement enough. “That was four years earlier, Merlin. And I didn’t know then that it was you, I was told it was William - and it was better to believe that than the alternative.” Arthur smiled to himself. “Neither of us had liked the other and then he died for me. I was guilty and off-balance and it made me angry. I wouldn’t have taken it like that if you’d told me before everything - came out like that.” Another brief silence. “What was it like for you, when you first left?”
“Difficult.” Merlin said, shortly, and refused to be drawn on it any further. Arthur made a mental note to ask him about it at a later date.
Arthur was silently surprised at how well Merlin seemed to be dealing with everything; he didn’t seem upset or particularly thrown by the sudden turn-up of events, and he couldn’t up but wonder just how much the other man was internalising his reactions. Which meant he had to worry about how bad the fall-out was going to be. He’d seen similar reactions in young knights newly back from war; those who seemed fine were often the worst affected of all. Or they were the ones to be careful of, the ones who got too much of a taste for it.
He was going to be watching Merlin carefully, to make sure his friend did nothing stupid. He wasn’t going to lose the other man twice.
Miraculously, it was Merlin which broke the brief silence this time. “So, what’s changed in Camelot since I was last there?” he asked lightly, and Arthur seized on the topic eagerly.
“Well, they’ve finally finished building the baths…”
They filled the long ride back down to Glenburn with idle conversation, both of them keeping well away from either of the serious subjects - they’d had their fill of them for the moment. The serious things, the talks they needed to have, the healing both of them needed to do, could come later. For once, neither of them wanted to rush things. If they had learnt anything over the last five years apart, it was patience. For the time being it was enough to be together again, re-learning each other and getting used to the kind of easy companionship they found with each other.
Arthur had been in Glenburn only the week before, but had taken a much longer route to Rainsford, passing through as many villages as he could find on the way. He had, he told Merlin easily, been on the road for nearly a month now, as had his knights; the search had been widespread. If he had been able to see Merlin, he would have seen the blush which spread high across his cheekbones at that.
He’d been through every town and village he knew of and some he didn’t, meeting as many of the young men as possible, hoping to come across his old servant or someone who knew more of him than the common rumours.
“Really,” he pointed out lazily, “I should have realised you’d be as far away from Camelot as possible.”
“I could have been trying to hide in plain sight,” Merlin suggested, but Arthur shook his head.
“No, Merlin, I don’t think so. You’re an idiot, but you’re not that bad.”
“Well, aren’t you just a charmer?” Merlin retorted. “The years haven’t made you any nicer, I see.”
Arthur just laughed in response; he’d missed their back-chat. Since Merlin had been banished, the only person who dared to speak to him like that was Morgana, and it wasn’t quite the same.
Glenburn had been like every other provincial town Arthur had been through in the last few weeks, and unsurprisingly nothing had changed in the week since he’d passed through it. He took them to what he had heard was the best inn in the town; he hadn’t stayed there before because he knew from painful experience that the obviously privileged received nothing but jealousy and evasions, and he couldn’t risk losing a vital lead for his own comfort. Now his quest was over there was no reason to stint himself, and he was willing to bet that Merlin hadn’t had a comfortable bed since he’d been thrown out of Camelot with nothing.
He was surprised to feel Merlin pulling back away from him as they neared the centre of town, taking care to sit back, effectively disassociating himself from Arthur.
“Who do you want me to be?” he asked, very softly.
Arthur half turned his head. “What?” he asked, confused.
“Am I your servant, a peasant you were helping…?”
“You’re my friend,” Arthur stressed, annoyance layered thick in his voice. “Like I’ve been saying, Merlin.”
“Arthur, have a little common sense,” Merlin retorted, sounding almost sharp. “No one’s going to believe I’m a friend of yours.”
“Things are going to start changing in Albion.” Arthur said grimly. “And in the meantime, while I’m paying them, they’ll believe whatever I damn well tell them to. If anyone makes any comment, I’ll deal with it.”
Merlin’s only response was silence, but his disbelief was evident from the way he refused to move forward again, preferring instead to hold on to the saddle as they rode through the town.
When they reached the inn, Arthur went to help Merlin down off the horse without thinking, only to find the Merlin gave him a Look and slid lightly to the ground himself. Arthur refused to flush. Future kings didn’t flush.
Instead, he busied himself with removing the two saddle bags which had been making Merlin’s journey uncomfortable for the past few hours - so uncomfortable, he had actually opted to get down and walk for at intervals, ostensibly to ‘save the horse’. When that was done, he turned back to the stable yard.
“Hi, you.” he flicked a small coin at one of the stable boys. “Take my horse, rub him down, and feed him. And I’ll know if you stint him.”
“Yes, master.” The boy, no more than ten, sketched a rough bow and led the horse away. Arthur watched for a moment, making sure everything seemed to be in order, before turning back to Merlin.
“Shall we?” He gestured to the inn door.
“Thank you.” If Merlin’s expression was just a little wry, Arthur chose to ignore it.
He was more than a little taken aback when the innkeeper gave Merlin a filthy glare. “What do you want?” the man asked him, peremptorily, “If you’re here for alms, it’s round the back, I won’t have begging in my taproom!”
Merlin gave Arthur a speaking look, and Arthur frowned back at the innkeeper. “He’s with me,” he said firmly, and the man frowned back at him in confusion.
“What, my lord?” He asked, with a frown. “I - this fellow? With you?”
“Yes.” Arthur said, shortly. “And I want to bespeak one of your rooms - and a bath for my friend as quickly as possible.”
“A-a room?”
“You are an inn, aren’t you?” Arthur asked, sharply. “Do you have a room free or not?”
“Er, yes, sir. Sorry, my lord, I was, um, wool-gathering.” With one last, harried glance at Merlin, he hurried to fetch a book. “We have a fine room available for your lordship, and your servant can sleep with-”
“No.” Arthur overrode him, flatly. “One room, two beds.”
“But, my lord…”
“Trust me, sir, I understand very well what I want.”
“Of- of course you do, sir. Then we have a very quiet room at the back of the inn, perfect for you and your…” he waited for a cue from Arthur, and, on receiving none, chose the path of least potential offence. “Friend.”
“Indeed.” Arthur turned away, and the innkeeper scurried to lead them up to the room. It was only once he had gained Arthur’s approval of the room - Merlin wouldn’t have dared make any criticisms at that point - did he take the opportunity to make hastily for the door, only to be stopped by Arthur’s voice, at its most authoritative. “Send a bath up to us, would you? And some food. And send for a tailor.”
“A bath, food, and a tailor. Of course, my lord. Will that be everything?”
“For the moment. Thank you for your help.” Arthur’s smile was polite, but cool, and the innkeeper finally made good his escape.
**
Part Four