Fic: The Undiscovered Country (2/3)
Part One
The next several weeks of Merlin’s life were some of the busiest she’d ever known. Arthur and Uther saw her and Marcus off, though things had inexplicably become awkward between her and Arthur. He had behaved at the feast as if very little had changed, teasing her, but standing out in the courtyard, he had said little more than pleasantries, not even reacting to a dig on her part about him getting up in the morning without her to wake him. It was bewildering, but then, when had Arthur ever not been?
When the time came to depart, Merlin had had some trouble trying to mount her horse in the traveling dress that she was wearing. Marcus had started to move to assist her, but Arthur beat him to it, coming over and lifting her up onto the animal, as though she weighed nothing. He placed the reins in her hand and then quickly stepped back away from her, but not before Merlin caught a good glimpse of his eyes.
They were sad, of all things. Confusion had swept through her then, but she hadn’t had time to dwell on it as she was accompanied out of Camelot by Marcus and a large retinue of guards, a few servants, and a mule-drawn cart. Still, she had looked back and saw that while Uther had retreated back into the citadel, Arthur remained standing on the steps, staring almost forlornly after her.
Arthur had been difficult to comprehend when she had been his maidservant. Now, he was impossible.
Visiting Albina turned out to be a better experience than she’d thought it would be. Aside from Marcus, she had no actual family in the area - her mother’s family had since either died or left the area - but it meant a lot to Merlin to stroll the places her mother had walked as a girl. It had also felt strangely meaningful to visit the castle where she’d been conceived too.
Just as Gwen had predicted, Merlin was given the pick of the women servants in the castle to be her handmaiden. There were not that many to choose from - it appeared that Marcus only kept a small staff, nothing at all like the legion of servants that Uther had - only three. Merlin made a point to talk to each one of them, and discovered that two of them had family in the area that they were both hesitant to leave. One even had a young man who had just recently proposed marriage. Since Merlin knew that her handmaiden would have to come to Camelot with her, she chose the third and final candidate, a young woman named Seanna. The girl was an orphan, Merlin found out, her parents having perished of illness when she’d been a girl. Seanna had been raised by her grandmother, who had lived long enough to see her granddaughter obtain employment in the castle and settled well enough before she died.
When Merlin broached the subject of her coming to Camelot with her, Seanna had appeared a little nervous at first, but then had nodded. “Of course, my lady, I should be honored to come with you.”
Merlin smiled, feeling just as anxious. “I’m rather new at all of this,” she said, waving her hand at their luxurious surroundings, “so I hope you’ll bear with me.”
Seanna’s smile, which had a kindness that reminded her very much of Gwen, was reassuring.
Merlin even found herself spending more time in Marcus’ company. He seemed quite happy to guide her through every aspect of Albina and every bit of land that was under his purview. They rode often, visiting the isolated farms and other villages, and generally allowing the people to see them, but Merlin was actually enjoying passing the time with him. She wasn’t quite comfortable with calling him ‘Father’ just yet, but she no longer used his title in conversation, unless it was to tease him.
One surprising conversation took place after their evening meal. Just as the servants had cleared away the last of their plates, Marcus said, “Merlin, would you join me in my study for a few minutes?”
Surprised by the sudden shift in conversation - they’d been discussing the harvest, which was due to begin soon - Merlin nodded. As they moved to leave the dining room, Merlin waved Seanna away, telling her to go ahead to Merlin’s chambers. The distance to Marcus’ study was a short one. She sat down in one of the chairs near the large, ornate desk in the center of the room, while he closed the door behind them.
Once he himself was seated, Marcus gestured to a large stack of parchment. “I’ve been drawing up new instructions for my will, so that, when I die, the passing of my lands will go smoothly for my heir.”
Merlin shifted, a little uncomfortable. Though she was becoming accustomed to all of this business of being a noble, she was still a little put off by some aspects of it, most especially when there was talk of her inheriting Marcus’ responsibilities. She had enough to do looking after Arthur! How was she supposed to manage everything here as well? It worried her.
“Since my wife had given me no heir and I chose not to remarry after her death,” Marcus continued, unaware of her troublesome thoughts, “I had been left at something of loose ends on who to name as my successor. For the past few years, I’d seriously considered naming Prince Arthur my heir.”
Merlin blinked, surprised.
“Most would think that rather redundant, since when a nobleman dies without heirs, his holdings usually revert back to the king anyway, aside from provisions left behind for a widow, if necessary,” he said. “But by willing everything directly to Arthur, it would give him some resources of his own that are not directly controlled by his father. I thought it might be good for him, should I predecease his father. It would give him some direct experience in management before he takes up the entire kingdom. The king himself even agreed with my plan.”
She nodded. “Sounds logical.”
He smiled faintly. “True, but it won’t be happening now. Having an heir of my body supersedes any other alternatives.” He tapped the parchment with his finger. “I’ve been working on these since we arrived here, and the arrangements have been made. When I’m gone, this will all be yours.”
Merlin gulped, and hoped she didn’t look too terrified.
She must have, because Marcus grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of dying soon, but I wanted to warn you. Once it gets out that you are to inherit everything that is mine, the other nobles of the kingdom are going to be pounding at our doors, whether we are here or in Camelot.”
“Why?” she asked in confusion.
“You’re the richest heiress in the entire kingdom, Merlin,” he pointed out. “The lands here and around Albina are some of the most fertile in all of Camelot. This area is also very strategic because we watch the paths leading out of the White Mountains. We’re usually the first to see any invading army that comes from the west, and thus would be the ones to sound the alarm in the capital. All of these points make this place very important to the king and to the country, which makes whoever controls them quite influential.” Marcus sighed. “It’s going to be bedlam. The nobles are going to either want to marry you themselves or to one of their sons.”
Merlin wrinkled her nose. “I’ve seen a lot of those sons. Most of them are completely useless. I wouldn’t have them if they were the last men in the kingdom.”
He chuckled. “I know, and I wouldn’t ask you to marry someone you find completely abhorrent. I’m just warning you of what we’re likely to face once we return to Camelot.”
Neither of them knew how right he would turn out to be. It wouldn’t be suitors that would be the cause of so much trouble, though, but an ancient, merciless magic incited by Arthur’s arrogance and stupidity.
“Merlin? Merlin!”
She opened her eyes, and very nearly wanted to clench them shut again as pain stabbed at them viciously. She cringed and wiped at her eyes, hoping to clear her vision and rub the pain away. Looking up, she saw Arthur kneeling beside her.
“Arthur?”
He nodded, smirking at her. “Very good, Merlin. You know my name.”
She sighed, exasperated. “Clotpole.” Looking around, Merlin’s gaze landed on the black-cloaked figure of Cedric. “Is he…?”
“Cedric’s dead,” Arthur confirmed. He stared at him. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Sigan had no reason to keep him alive once he left him.”
Merlin stared at him as she sat up, startled. “You saw that?”
“Yes, I did,” he sighed. Leaning back, he sat down fully on the cobblestones of the courtyard. He then held up the crystal heart, which was once again glowing an eerie, menacing blue. “I don’t know exactly what you did, Merlin, but it worked.”
She eyed him carefully. He had not so much as alluded to her magic since she’d told him of it.
“I suppose,” he added, his tone grudging, “your… abilities can be… useful at times.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted. “They’ve been dead useful in keeping you alive since the day I met you, prat.”
Their trip back to Camelot was a leisurely one. The weather had been particularly fine lately, and their retinue was quite content to go along without any overt haste. Merlin spent most of her time chatting with her fellow travelers. It seemed that the men in Marcus’ service were delighted to become acquainted with their lord’s daughter, and Seanna had even confided in her that many of them had feared losing their livelihoods once Marcus had passed on, since he’d had no heir to keep a household after he was gone. It was intimidating, to learn that so many people were depending on her for their own survival.
On the final day of their trip, they were in the darkling woods that surrounded most of Camelot. It was mid-afternoon, and the party had stopped near a creek to rest the horses and relax before they entered the citadel, where everyone would be consumed with duties and tasks and wouldn’t have time to breathe until late in the night.
Merlin and Seanna had waded into the creek for a bit, enjoying the cool water lapping at their feet. Afterward, Merlin found herself wandering a small distance from the clearing, moving among the trees and eventually coming to another clearing, this one mainly enclosed by large rocks and boulders. The sound of footsteps made her pause, but for some strange reason, she didn’t feel threatened. She could sense something magical in front of her, but it didn’t seem menacing. Curious, Merlin crept forward.
Peering around one of the rocks, Merlin gasped at what she saw - a beautiful animal that appeared at first to be horse, but was really much, much more. It was whiter than the purest winter snows she’d seen year after year in Ealdor, but with a mane that looked like it was made of true spun silver. Perhaps the animal’s most defining and noticeable feature, however, was the thin horn protruding from its head.
For several moments, Merlin could only gape at the unicorn in wonder. It was breathtaking, and Merlin eventually found herself inching forward. The creature turned its head in her direction, and she caught her first glimpse of its eyes.
Gentle. Peaceful. Kind. Pure. Merlin felt all of those emotions wash over her and she smiled. Reaching out tentatively, she stroked the animal’s nose. In response, it butted her hand with its head, playful. She giggled, and then opened her mouth to speak -
The arrow whistled through the air and impacted into the unicorn’s side before Merlin could even blink. The creature let out an agonized squeal as it collapsed to the ground. “No!” she shrieked, falling down on her knees beside the head of the wounded creature.
The unicorn still drew breath, though it was rapid and uneven. Blood seeped out of its body around the arrow, staining its lovely white coat. Red on white. Merlin shuddered.
Running footsteps caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see Arthur trot into the clearing, a delighted grin on his face. A moment later, before she could say a word, they were joined by Marcus and several of his men, all of them with swords drawn.
Arthur blinked at their sudden appearance, but then said, “Oh, good! Just in time!” He took a few steps forward until he stood over Merlin. “A unicorn!” he exclaimed, clearly thrilled.
In all the time that Merlin had known Arthur, he had exasperated her, frustrated her, and annoyed her on several occasions. Never once had there been an occasion where he had truly angered her. He was an insensitive brat, but she’d never thought of him as being intentionally cruel. Now, though, now she was just angry, she was furious. “Yes,” she hissed at him, her eyes narrowed. “It’s a unicorn, Arthur. A beautiful, innocent creature that was doing no harm, and you shot it down like a wild, stupid beast!” Her voice had grown progressively louder as she spoke, and by the time she finished, she was shouting.
Arthur sighed impatiently. “We were hunting, Merlin,” he said patronizingly, gesturing to the knights that had appeared at his shoulder. “That is what generally people do when they hunt.”
She glared at him. “I thought people hunted in order to provide food,” she said scathingly. “Or has the court developed a taste for horse flesh in the time that I’ve been away?”
He stared down at her, clearly irritated, but Merlin couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Returning her gaze to the unicorn, she saw that its breath had grown slow and slight. Its life was almost gone. As she stared down into the eye that was slowly closing, Merlin felt some of her anger leave her, replaced by sorrow. She reached out and laid her hand on its neck. She felt the muscles twitch at her touch, just a little, and she hoped the creature understood the offer of comfort.
When the unicorn’s eye shut and the breath left its body, Merlin’s own eyes filled with tears, tears that began to fall even as she shut her eyes to try and will them back. It did no good, and Merlin soon gave up. Refusing to wipe them away, Merlin pushed herself to her feet. Glaring one last time at Arthur, though she could only make out his silhouette through the moisture clouding her sight, she snarled, “You must be so proud of yourself.” Her tone made plain her disgust.
Not giving him a chance to respond, Merlin turned and stormed away, moving swiftly past Marcus and his men, and leaving the clearing. As she departed, Merlin was fairly certain she felt another magical presence, different from what the unicorn’s had been, and yet still somehow similar. She was in no state to think on that, though, and she began to make her way back to where she’d left the others.
She and Arthur probably would have continued to argue over the perceived usefulness of her abilities, if not for the sound of people approaching them. Merlin tensed and Arthur lunged for his sword, but paused when two familiar people stepped out of the mists.
Marcus and Gaius stared down at them in concern. “Merlin? Sire? Are you both well?” Marcus asked. He held out his hand to Merlin, which she took, allowing him to help her to her feet. Once she was steady, Marcus repeated the same movement and assisted Arthur up as well.
“Is Sigan…?” Gaius trailed off.
Arthur again held up the blue heart, and relief spread across the physician’s features. “We’ll need to put it back in the crypt, Sire,” he said. “And close it up permanently.”
Arthur nodded. “I’ll see that it’s done.” There was a moment of silence that quickly became awkward. Finally, Arthur turned to Merlin. “You did well, Merlin.” He reached out slowly, almost tentatively, and brushed her wrist with his fingers, a tiny caress. Then he quickly stepped back, glancing at Marcus, and started for the doors to the closed keep.
Merlin watched him go, but then looked down at her wrist. The skin was tingling, like she’d just been given a good jolt. She bit her lip and looked up again, a wave of longing sweeping through her.
When Merlin made it to her chambers nearly an hour later, she didn’t come out for the rest of the day. She refused the king’s invitation to attend the feast that was being held that evening as politely as she could manage. Merlin was not a fool. Very likely the feast was to celebrate his son’s killing of a unicorn and bringing its remains back to show off to everyone. She would have no part in it.
She helped Seanna unpack her things, and then made sure that her handmaid’s small room was in order for her as well. Shortly after, Gwen arrived and introduced herself to Seanna, offering to give her a tour of the castle and show her all of the places she would need to know while she was here. Merlin urged Seanna to go, reassuring her that she would be fine, and was grateful to finally be alone.
With a weary sigh, Merlin sank down and lay across her bed, closing her eyes wearily. She’d intended to visit Gaius once she had returned to Camelot, but decided to wait. Merlin was certain that if she left her chambers, she’d inevitably meet Arthur somewhere along the way, and right now she couldn’t be certain she wouldn’t try to scratch his eyes out. No, best wait until she was calmer.
The unicorn had been perhaps the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. It was magical, certainly, and perhaps that was another reason why Merlin thought it so remarkable. Nearly all of the other magical creatures she’d encountered - the Afanc, the gryphon - had all been vicious, evil beasts. The unicorn had been anything but. It had been the very essence of peace and loveliness.
Then there had been the blood, the agony. Merlin could have believed that she’d felt the animal’s pain as surely as if the arrow had struck her in the belly. It was unnatural for so pure a creature to endure such treatment.
The last thing Merlin remembered was a fresh wave of tears falling down her cheeks. When she awoke some time later, it was to the smell of food. Opening her eyes, Merlin found that she was still stretched out across her bed, only a light blanket had been draped over her. Groaning a bit as she forced herself to sit up, she glanced around.
“My lady?” Seanna was a short distance away, laying out what looked like a nightdress. “Would you like some supper?” she asked, smiling as she started toward her.
Merlin managed a smile in return and nodded. “Yes, please.” Her stomach apparently agreed with the sentiment, because it let out a faint, low growl. Laughing, Merlin pushed herself up off the bed and moved toward the table, where a tray was waiting.
“You were fast asleep when Guinevere and I returned, my lady,” Seanna said as she set about removing lids off of the dishes. Steam rose from the food, indicating it was still warm. “I thought it best to just let you rest, after…” she trailed off, and Merlin saw the pensive expression on her handmaiden’s face. Merlin nodded, beginning to eat, and Seanna continued. “There were several people who stopped by. The physician, Gaius, was in here briefly, and agreed that it was best to let you sleep. The Lady Morgana also visited, and asked after you…” she hesitated, but then added, “as did Prince Arthur.”
Merlin paused in her eating. “Did he?” she asked, hoping she sounded calm. “And what did he want?”
“He did not say.”
A part of her wanted to mutter something about wanting to ask her where his favorite jacket was, if he had not been able to find it in the weeks that she’d been gone, while yet another wondered - hoped? - that he might apologize for killing the unicorn. She snorted inwardly. Arthur had never apologized a day in his life. Even back when he had sacked her during that mess with the knight, Valiant, he had never expressly apologized for it. Admitted he’d been wrong, yes, but apologized, no.
Merlin sighed. “Well, I’m sure I’ll hear about it eventually.”
Seanna nodded. “There are rumors circulating through the court, my lady,” she told her. “Although I am new here, the other servants did not feel the need to guard their tongues around me. They say… it is known that Prince Arthur killed the unicorn when you were barely a foot away from it. There are even those who say that your lord father is angry with the prince for shooting the animal when you were so close.”
Merlin took a sip of wine from her goblet. “I wasn’t upset that he killed it with me right there,” she pointed out. “I’m angry that he killed the unicorn at all. He can hunt for food all he likes. It takes hunting to feed the court, I know, but killing the unicorn served no purpose except to pander to his vanity.” She shook her head and slumped back in her chair. “Of course, telling Arthur that is akin to talking to a wall.”
Seanna made a sympathetic face, and allowed Merlin to continue eating. When she finished the meal, Merlin changed into the nightgown her handmaiden had laid out to her. Seanna left for a time to return the tray to the kitchens, but returned and, with Merlin’s permission, retired to her own room.
Merlin lay down on her bed again, this time nestled up against the fluffy pillows. She smiled and shook her head. A decent bed was probably what she enjoyed the most about her new position in life. She still felt some lingering guilt on asking Seanna - or any of the servants - to do anything, since she knew just how hard they worked from being one of them herself. When she had said as much to Marcus, he had told her that her care for the servants spoke well of her, but she should also remember that they were being paid wages to do the tasks they were given. They were employed to serve them, and while that did not give her or any employer the right to abuse and mistreat the servants, she should remember to let them do their jobs.
She was just about to drift back to sleep, when a strange sensation overcame her, of something invading her mind.
Merlin.
Her eyes shot open.
Merlin.
Gods, how could she have forgotten that voice? The Dragon was hardly someone forgot.
Merlin sighed. Clearly, she wouldn’t be going back to sleep. Glancing warily at the door that led to Seanna’s room, she quietly threw her legs over the side of the bed and slid the slippers left there onto her feet. She crossed the room as quietly as possible, grabbing the cloak that had been hung by the door just as she slipped out of the room. After closing the door softly, Merlin threw the cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head before hurrying down the corridor.
It took her a bit longer than it used to for her to make it to the caverns, as her chambers were much further away than Gaius’ were. Slipping past the guards was still fairly easy, and Merlin swept down the steep staircase that led to the caverns beneath the citadel, having taken one of the torches that lit the downward passage to light her way.
The Dragon was waiting for her on his usual perch, just a few feet from the entrance to his prison. She stared up at him. “You called?” she asked wryly.
The creature seemed to smirk. “You have not visited me in some time, child.”
“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” she pointed out. “That means that nothing apocalyptic is happening and Arthur’s life isn’t in mortal peril.”
“True,” the Dragon agreed, “very true, young sorceress. But there have been many changes in your life recently.”
Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. “You know?”
He nodded. “Your arrival in Camelot was the first step toward fulfilling your destiny, protecting the young Pendragon was the second, but the third required your father’s recognition.”
She gaped at him. “You knew about him?” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Of course I knew, Merlin,” the Dragon answered, as if such an admission was perfectly reasonable. “I know your lineage as thoroughly as I know my own. Your father’s dam was the greatest sorceress of her generation. Her very blood gave her more authority over the Old Religion than most people ever hope to achieve. Her son did not have these gifts at his disposal, but he carried the seeds of it all, and he passed them on to you.”
Merlin pursed her lips. “Well, you still could have told me!” she maintained, even knowing how petulant she sounded.
The Dragon chuckled. “Now, what fun would that be?”
The doors to the citadel were opened when Arthur pounded on them, shouting that the sorcerer and his minions had been defeated. Uther was the first one out, and he practically leapt upon his son, holding him in a fierce hug for several seconds. Merlin could see Arthur stiffen in shock, and tried not to laugh.
The king stepped back then, trying to cover for his outburst of emotion. “Well done, Arthur. Again, Camelot is safe from the perils of sorcery.”
Arthur bowed his head. “Thank you, Father, but I cannot take the full credit for our victory today.” He turned toward Merlin and motioned for her to step forward. “The Lady Merlin too was instrumental in helping to secure Sigan’s defeat.”
She watched the king’s expression warily as she moved closer. One never knew what to expect from him, and he had shocked her more than once over the past several months.
“You are to be thanked for your assistance, my lady,” Uther finally spoke. “Once again, you have shown extraordinary loyalty and braved great danger for the sake of my son. And Camelot,” he added.
Merlin could feel her face heating up and she curtsied quickly, ducking her head. “It is my honor, Majesty.”
Merlin woke the next morning to find everyone panicking. The city’s water supply had turned to sand, and much of the grain stores had rotted. Uther had been drawn out of the city by reports of the destruction in the fields near Camelot, and Arthur had accompanied him. Merlin herself went to Gaius’ chambers, and found the physician lost amid his books and experiments.
“What do you think is happening?” she asked him as she handed him a particularly foul-smelling potion from his shelves.
“That is what these tests are designed to find out, Merlin,” he said as he poured a drop of the potion into the beaker that was being heated over a small fire. The liquid in the beaker began to bubble and the resulting smell was even worse. Merlin wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Though,” Gaius continued after a moment, “I do admit that I find what is happening very suspicious.”
“How so?”
He raised an eyebrow. “The water and food supplies vanish less than a day after the prince kills a unicorn? The magic of those creatures is an ancient one, and it is said that grave misfortune will come to anyone who kills them.”
Merlin pressed her lips together and her eyes narrowed, a wave of fresh anger coming over her.
Gaius eyed her knowingly. “I know you were upset when he killed the unicorn. It was all over the court that you scolded him severely over it.”
She sighed and sat down on the bench. “It was the most beautiful creature I had ever beheld, Gaius,” she said quietly. “The air around it was so peaceful, the like of which I’ve never felt before. And just like that,” she snapped her fingers, “it was gone. There was no purpose in killing it.”
“The hunt is in Arthur’s blood.”
“That’s no excuse!” she snapped. Gaius stared at her for several moments, and finally she shook her head. “Do you really think there might be a link to that and what’s happening now?” she asked.
“It’s possible,” he allowed, “but it is best to check for a non-magical cause, just to be certain.”
“But if it is?” she persisted.
Gaius sighed. “Then we’re likely in trouble.”
He was right, as he so often was. Uther and Arthur returned from visiting the nearby farms with the news that the crops had been destroyed. Uther ordered that riders be sent out to every corner of the kingdom, to see if other areas were being similarly affected.
Just as several other nobles were making preparations to do as the king had commanded, Marcus stepped forward. “Sire,” he said, “with your permission, I will return to Albina personally to discover the state of our food supplies there. It is possible that this pestilence is limited to the immediate area. If it is so, I will bring back what food supplies that can be spared for your relief here.”
Uther nodded. “Your assistance in this matter is most welcome, Lord Marcus,” he responded.
“It is my honor to serve, Your Majesty,” Marcus stated, bowing his head. “In the meantime, I leave my daughter to stand in my stead.”
Merlin’s eyes grew huge, and she fought the urge to gasp out loud. She was supposed to stand in his place, even on Uther’s council?! Was he crazy?
She also saw the shocked expression on Arthur’s features from where he was standing next to his father, and abruptly narrowed her eyes. Did he think she couldn’t do it? Well, she’d show him.
“It’s the right choice,” Marcus told her after Uther dismissed the court. “We need reliable information from all parts of the kingdom. Plus, me taking our retinue from Camelot will mean fewer mouths to feed here, which will allow the remaining supplies to last longer.”
Merlin nodded as they strode down the corridors. “What would you have me do while you’re gone?”
“Stay on the course we’re on, and advise the king to do so unless there is a drastic change. If something does change, follow your instincts. I trust you on this,” he said. He glanced around and lowered his voice, adding, “And see if you can find out if there is a magical cause for all of this.”
Merlin gulped, but nodded again. “Gaius thinks it has something to do with the unicorn,” she stated.
“It’s possible, but you need to find out for certain.”
Marcus was gone within hours, and Merlin rejoined Gaius. He was never able to find any scientific cause for the loss of water and grain, leaving Uther to conclude the only other possible cause - magic. The king ordered that Arthur put a curfew in place, and decreed that all looters would be executed.
No one else had disagreed with the king’s decision, so Merlin kept her mouth shut and spent the rest of the day with Gaius, staring at a bucket of sand and using every spell she could find in her magic book to try to turn it back into water, with no success.
She was there so long that by the time she looked up, she saw that it was dark, and the curfew was rapidly approaching. Leaving the bucket and the book with Gaius, Merlin hurried out of his chambers to return to her own.
The courtyard was deserted as she crossed it, or so she thought. She was almost to the doors that marked the final leg of the journey to her chambers, when a voice called out to her from behind. “Merlin!”
She stopped and turned around to face Arthur as he approached her. “You do realize there is a curfew?” he asked.
She nodded. “I just left Gaius. I’ve been helping him trying to figure out what’s happened,” she informed him coolly.
Arthur blinked at her tone, as though surprised by it, but then said, “Well, hurry back. The last thing I need is to tell my father that we have to execute you for being out during the forbidden hours.” He then glanced up toward the window of his own chambers and scowled. “Oswin had better have found that rat,” he muttered.
“Rat? Oswin?”
“My new manservant,” Arthur elaborated. He rolled his eyes. “He’s even more incompetent than you were.”
She snorted. “And he probably doesn’t tell you where to get off when you act like a spoiled three-year-old.”
“I don’t -” Arthur cut himself off as he took notice of something behind her. Merlin turned her head, following his gaze, and caught a glimpse of someone hurrying along the wall of the castle and into a darkened doorway.
“Who -” Merlin started to say, but was interrupted.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, pulling his sword and starting in that direction, “get inside. Now.” His tone brooked no argument.
But then, when had Merlin ever listened to him? She ran after him.
Merlin was confused when Gaius began to lead her toward one of the tables where the medical supplies lay scattered. “Gaius, what -”
“You’re wounded, child,” he interjected.
“What?” she asked dumbly. She was fine.
He gestured to her arm and then set about gathering up a wet cloth, some ointment, and bandages. Merlin stared at her arm. There was indeed a deep gash in her arm, and blood had soaked the cloth of her dress. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she mumbled.
“It doesn’t look too deep,” the physician told her. “It’ll be fine.”
Merlin let him dress the wound in silence, but her eyes swept over the large room. There were many wounded still lying about, most of them treated as best as they could be. She spotted Seanna moving among them with Gwen, handing out water and encouraging everyone to drink deeply. In the far corner of the room, Merlin saw Arthur standing with his father and hers, as well as many of the knights.
She hoped he still had the heart that held Sigan’s spirit.
She hoped he’d remember to put it back in the tomb.
She hoped -
Merlin didn’t remember anything for a while after that.
Gaius was right again. It was the unicorn’s death that was the root of all their troubles. When Anhora informed Arthur that it had been his actions that had caused the blight upon Camelot, Merlin had believed him. There was no lie in his voice.
Not that Arthur accepted that. Even the following morning, when Merlin arrived in his chambers to discuss the matter with him, he still denied it.
When Merlin asked him why Anhora would have spouted such a ‘lie’, he merely waved his hand vaguely. “We had him cornered, Merlin. A cornered man will say anything to get out of the situation he’s in.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Cornered?! Arthur, the man was dancing rings around us both! He could’ve escaped at any time. He has no reason to lie.” She crossed her arms. “You’re going to be tested, and you need to be ready.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and picked up his sword. Just before he walked out of the room, he thrust a finger in her face. “A sorcerer’s word is hardly trustworthy, Merlin. You’d do well to remember that.”
Merlin was left in his wake, arms dropped to her sides and clenched fists shaking.
Stubborn fool, she thought bitterly. Glancing around at Arthur’s chambers, she saw that they were rather cluttered, and Oswin was nowhere to be found. She raised an eyebrow, tempted to add to the mess, just to annoy Arthur, but she decided not to, knowing it would only create more work for his new servant.
Of course, even when Arthur denied that he was in any way responsible for what was happening to Camelot, that didn’t mean that he was right. The following day, Merlin woke to Seanna’s excited voice.
“My lady, my lady!”
“Wha -”
She didn’t have time to form any further words before Seanna burst out, “The water has been restored!”
Merlin heard the details from Arthur, when they were both enjoying large tankards of cool, soothing water. Apparently, Arthur had caught a man trying to steal grain from the city’s meager stores, and had ultimately spared the man’s life, having been reluctant to execute a man for being desperate enough to feed his children by resorting to thievery.
“Before he left, he said my kindness would bring about its own rewards.”
Merlin’s eyes widened. “That must have been the first test!” she exclaimed. “Anhora said you would be tested, and you passed the first one.”
“Merlin -” Arthur started to say.
“It makes sense!” she cut him off. “You showed mercy to a man, and then the water comes back.” Merlin beamed, feeling rather proud of him. It was certainly a change from the anger and annoyance she’d felt concerning him in the past few days. “Well done! Now you just have to pass the other tests, and we might all live!”
Arthur still looked mildly disbelieving, but he didn’t try to argue the point. They sat in silence, enjoying the water more than they ever had before.
Naturally, it couldn’t be that easy. Within hours of the water returning, it was gone again, and nearly all that remained of the grain stores had rotted as well.
Merlin stood on the parapet overlooking the courtyard, which was packed with people, many of them strangers to Camelot. According to Seanna, whom Merlin had sent with Gwen and Morgana to do what they could for the new arrivals, they had come in search of food, as theirs had been destroyed as well. It only added to the bad news, as Marcus had sent word to Camelot that nearly all of the food stores in Albina had deteriorated as much as those in the capital.
She glanced at Arthur, who stood to her right. He was hunched over the parapet, his eyes glued on the people below. The guilt that kept his head bowed struck Merlin hard. “I’m sure you did all you could,” she said softly.
He didn’t move at all, not his eyes, not his hands, nothing. “It’s not enough.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
That didn’t seem to bring him any comfort. “My father is going to stop distributing food to the people,” he told her quietly. “He believes that everything we have left must be left to the army, in case the neighboring kingdoms decide to take advantage of the situation and try to invade.”
Merlin didn’t bother to disguise a derisive snort. She doubted very much any kingdom would be keen to touch Camelot right now. It was a cursed land, and any kingdom that still had any ties to the Old Religion would not dream of setting foot on land that was looked upon with such disfavor. No, they wouldn’t come here. Too bad the king was too caught up in his own prejudices to see that.
Arthur didn’t take offense at her scorn. Instead, he bowed his head even further. “My people are starving,” he murmured. “And it’s my fault.”
His grief was profound, and hard for Merlin to see. Tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. Arthur didn’t react at first, but did allow himself a moment to lean into the mute comfort that she offered him. “It’s my fault,” he repeated.
Merlin awoke in her chambers, with Morgana, Gwen, and Seanna all sitting around her bed. Gwen was the first to see her open her eyes. “Oh, you’re awake!”
“What… happened?” Merlin asked, licking her dry lips.
Seanna held out a tankard of water for her. “You fainted, my lady,” she explained. “Gaius thought it might have been from blood loss and all of the excitement from the attack. He said it would be best to just let you rest, and wake up in your own time.”
Morgana leaned back in her chair, a peculiar smirk on her face. “Arthur was very concerned,” she said. “He even carried you up here.” She raised a knowing eyebrow.
Merlin blushed scarlet, but didn’t say anything. A moment of silence passed, and then Morgana began to chuckle, followed by Gwen and Seanna. Merlin glared at them and grabbed a pillow from behind her, lobbing it at them. It hit Morgana, who squawked indignantly and threw it back at her.
Merlin glared at Anhora from her spot at the table. How could she have been so stupid as to trust him? He was trying to kill Arthur, just like almost every other magic user she had met! She struggled against the invisible bonds, but couldn’t budge them, not even when she pushed her magic at them.
“This is what you wanted, Emrys,” Anhora spoke up from his spot near the exit of the labyrinth.
“I didn’t want you to attack Arthur from behind!” she snapped, ignoring his use of the strange name that the Druid boy had used to refer to her.
“I have no intention of doing so.”
Merlin growled at his calm, nonchalant tone, but could do nothing about it. Some minutes later, Arthur appeared on the beach. When he spotted her, his eyes widened in shock. “Merlin, what…”
“Please,” Anhora said, “join her.”
Arthur whirled to look at him. “Let her go,” he demanded. “She has nothing to do with this.”
The Keeper of the Unicorns shook his head. “She is now a part of the test.”
Arthur glared at him, probably hoping to silently bully the older man into bowing to his wishes. When Anhora just continued to wait impassively, Arthur muttered a curse under his breath and sat down across from her. “I distinctly remember telling you to stay in Camelot, Merlin,” he said irritably.
She smiled weakly. “Yeah, well, since when do I ever listen to you?”
He snorted, but then focused when Anhora explained the test - that one goblet contained water, the other poison. Each one of them could only drink from one goblet, and both liquids had to be consumed.
“What does that prove?!” Arthur asked incredulously.
“That is up to you, young Pendragon.”
Merlin’s heart raced as she and Arthur stared at the goblets in front of them. The result of this was already obvious to her - she had to be the one to drink the poison. Arthur couldn’t die. She told him so.
He shook his head. “Stop trying to be a heroine, Merlin. It doesn’t suit you.”
Irritated, she kicked his armored shin under the table. “Stop being an ass,” she shot back. “It suits you too well and the rest of us have to suffer from it.”
Much to her surprise, Arthur didn’t get angry. Instead, he just laughed. “Only you, Merlin.” He sobered, and then added, “I had no idea you were so keen to die for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s self-preservation, really. I’m not going back to Camelot and telling your father that I let you die.”
It only took them a few minutes to figure out how to fulfill the terms Anhora had set them. It was a relatively simple solution. However, when Merlin started to grab Arthur’s goblet to pour his liquid, he suddenly jerked and pointed behind her, shouting, “Look out!”
She turned automatically, tensing in anticipation for some kind of attack, but there was nothing. A flurry of movement made her whirl back, and saw that Arthur had combined the two liquids in his goblet. “Arthur, no! Give it to me!” she demanded urgently, reaching for it.
He batted her hand away and stared down at the goblet, taking a deep, steadying breath.
“Arthur, this isn’t what you’re meant to do!”
“I think you’re wrong about that,” he said quietly. He began to lift the goblet toward his lips.
“No, Arthur,” she pleaded, panic setting in. “Listen to me -”
He laughed. “Come, Merlin! You know I don’t listen to you, any more than you listen to me!” Before she could utter another word, he toasted her and then drank the liquid in a single gulp.
“No!” Merlin shouted. Her limbs trembled. “What have you done?” she breathed in horror.
Arthur managed a brief, weak smile before his eyes slid shut and he slumped to the side, falling from his chair and onto the rocky surf.
“Arthur!” Merlin jumped up, knocking her own chair over and throwing herself down next to him. She shook him hard, but he didn’t stir. “No, no, no, no…” she whispered. Frantic, she looked up to Anhora, who stood some feet away, watching them. “Stop this,” she begged him. “He isn’t meant to die! I’ll take his place!”
“This was Arthur’s test,” the keeper maintained.
She glared at him, rage beginning to mingle with her grief. She opened her mouth, ready to say something. Perhaps she would have begged further for Arthur’s life, or maybe she would have begun issuing threats - swearing that if he didn’t give Arthur back, she’d burn all of Albion to the ground. He couldn’t take Arthur away, couldn’t destroy the future she had slowly come to believe in, the one that Arthur would build. She didn’t care about the unicorns anymore, she didn’t care about any of it, only Arthur, Arthur, Arthur -
“He has only consumed a mild sleeping draught, Emrys,” Anhora interrupted her thoughts. “He will awaken shortly.”
Merlin froze. “S-sleeping draught?” she stuttered.
He nodded. “The test was to prove what was truly in Arthur’s heart,” he explained. “By drinking from the goblet, he proved that he was willing to give his life to save yours.” He looked pleased. “He has proven himself pure of heart.”
Merlin could feel the anger draining away, leaving her with an overall feeling of exhaustion, and she turned back to the unconscious Arthur. Her lower lip trembled, just a little. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers along his cheek. He didn’t react, but Merlin could feel the life within his flesh.
Arthur lived.
Merlin could have cried with relief. Shaking, she lowered her head to Arthur’s chest plate and hugged him tightly, if a bit awkwardly.
Don’t ever leave me.
There was a sense of frantic, but organized, chaos for the next several weeks. There was plenty of tasks for everyone. Builders were needed to repair the citadel and the lower town, Sigan’s tomb had to be restocked and the heart placed back in it, and a host of other things.
Merlin found herself drafted by Morgana to help take count of who was either missing or dead in both the citadel and the town. Morgana commandeered a small contingent of guards and other available men with all the aplomb of a queen and led them, Merlin, Gwen, and Seanna into the city. They made their way street by street, questioning anyone they could find on who owned a house or building, if it was known if they were still alive and elsewhere. If not, then the digging would begin.
Merlin lost count by midday of how many bodies were pulled from the rubble, though she knew she had spent most of the day helping to keep a written record of the numbers. It was exhausting, disheartening work. Men, women, and children alike were found, their bodies mangled and broken. By the end of the day, they’d made it through half of the city. The other half would wait for the next day.
When they returned, the group was the subject of more than one concerned look, people no doubt taking notice of their ashen faces. Morgana, no doubt calling on the last reserves of strength that she had, walked up to Uther and silently handed him the notes they had taken.
“What’s this?” he asked her, also glancing at Merlin and the others.
None of them said anything, just waited in sullen silence for him to see for himself. The king began skimming the notes, and abruptly began to go pale. He looked at both Morgana and Merlin incredulously. “This is what you’ve both been doing all day?”
“It’s what we’ve all been doing, Uther,” Morgana corrected him sharply, but her annoyance didn’t last. She sighed wearily. “I think we’ll turn in for the night.”
Merlin nodded, having no desire to argue. She was certain she could hear her bed calling to her. Barely pausing to curtsy to the king, she began to follow Morgana out of the council chamber, pausing only to grab Seanna’s hand and guide her weary handmaiden out as well.
As she left, Merlin thought she might have seen Arthur staring at her, but she was too exhausted and soul-weary to pay him any attention.
Part Three