Merlin - Realms [Part 3]
Title: Realms
Genre: pre-slash: Arthur/Merlin, tiny bit of het: Gwen/Lancelot
Rating: R for violence
Length: ~45,000 words - Complete
Spoilers: Through Series 2, AU after the end of Series 2
Warnings: Violence, death of minor original characters
Synopsis: A portal has opened in Gaius’ rooms between Merlin’s realm and one very much like it, only on the other side magic was never banned and can be used freely without pain of death. Needless to say, Merlin has fallen through this portal more than once.
Author’s Notes: OMG, it’s done! Oh-so-many thanks to the awesome threnodyjones for the beta job on this monster, and to all the excellent cheerleaders over at
camelot_fleet for their support as I tried to wrap this up for the Finish-a-thon. This ended up far longer than originally intended, but tells the tale I wanted to get out, so I hope people are willing to give it a chance.
Secondary Notes: Suaimhneas = Irish for quiet, peaceful.
Synopsis: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Live Journal Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Dreamwidth Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Merlin had barely finished watching the case disappear through the curtain of the portal before Arthur was tugging at him once more. A questioning yelp later, and Merlin found himself being dragged through the hallways, door locked soundly behind him, and ordered to fetch some more food. They did not eat in the workroom, but in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin did not question the change. Being cooped up in one place too long was bothersome. Being cooped up in one place and forced to question your reality and everything you were taught to be real and true and evil could not be much better.
Arthur lounged in his chair, picking at his food and pushing certain morsels Merlin’s way even though he had made certain both had a plate of their own and both had eaten plenty throughout the day. Merlin looked at Arthur’s goblet of wine hopefully, it had been a long afternoon after all and if Arthur was in a giving mood then maybe it was time to chance his luck. It was not to be though, as Arthur pointedly stared at the ewer of water instead, and went so far as to pour Merlin a cupful himself when he tried not to take the hint.
They talked about nothing, really. Random reports that Arthur had no time to read save for a quick glance while Merlin had been setting out the plates, whether every keg needed to be sacrificed due to a single one being tainted, whether Gaius might like his new rooms as a permanent switch - everything save for magic and the possibility of its use in every day life and assassination attempts.
Merlin knew Gaius had found nothing so far. He had checked in on him while the kitchens prepared the food and told him what he had discovered about the Suaimhneas connection, only to discover his mentor knew very little about the group. He had called them a cult instead of a sect, but only knew of their reclusiveness and rumours that they had gone even deeper into hiding during Uther’s Purge of magic users. Gaius suggested the same texts Merlin had already reviewed, but could barely keep his eyes open, so Merlin decided to leave him be. The older man did give one final warning as to not fully trusting anything Morgana discovered, though Merlin was not certain if that was due to the differences between the realms or Gaius’ own biases that he freely admitted to.
Merlin thought about that as he munched on the last bit of his meal. There would be no desserts as they had not yet reached and vetted that portion of the pantry. A maid had found something green and soft in a cupboard earlier in the day and Gaius had wasted an hour testing it only to discover it was a piece of cheese that had gone off. He did not mind though, as everyone was on high alert and it was better safe than sorry. The head cook had been right mad however, and ordered the cupboard in question scrubbed top to bottom, further limiting the processing of the inventory.
When Arthur finally looked as though he was ready to nod off, Merlin started to gather the dishes from the meal to return to the kitchens. Arthur waved off any need for assistance with his night clothes, which meant there was a fair chance he was going to sleep in the tunic and trousers he was currently wearing, but Merlin decided to concern himself with that later, such as when it was time for a trip to the laundress.
It was not until Merlin was at the door that Arthur called out, “Do be careful, Merlin?”
Merlin suspected he meant with more than just the dishes, but raised one of the cups and shifted his grip slightly as he offered a cheeky, “I always am!”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly and his lips quirked with something less than amusement. “Do be careful, Merlin,” he repeated, this time with absolutely no hint of a question.
Merlin lowered the cup and lost his grin as he replied with as much seriousness as he could muster, “I always am, Arthur.”
Arthur turned back to his bed, kicking off his boots as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Sadly, I do believe that.”
Dishes safely dropped off in the kitchens and guards safely locked outside the door, Merlin debated the merits of following Arthur’s lead and not bothering with changing out of what he had worn that day. With a sigh, he forced the tunic over his head anyway as he did not have the same luxury of having enough clothing to constantly have a new outfit at his beck and call. He did now have the luxury of sleeping trousers thanks to Arthur, and he slipped into those as well.
He had forgotten about the talisman until it smacked against his chest, and then he could find no safe place to store it that would not negate its use. He had promised James he would use it, and it was no good buried in a drawer, so he simply laced up his nightshirt a little bit tighter and hoped the leather cording was not too obvious should anyone feel the desperate need to come knocking on his door at any odd hour of the night.
He was asleep pretty much the moment his head hit his pillow, his dreams filled with images of plants and flowers and golden light, but shot wide awake when he swore he heard something in the room outside.
The talisman was warm against his skin, bordering on hot, and he felt his magic come alive and burn a path through his veins. He arose as quietly as he could, avoiding the creaks in the floor through long practice of sneaking in past the times Gaius found reasonable. He peered out the door and instantly knew something was wrong.
The portal was active again, only this time it shone near red instead of its usual gold. It was fading as though recently used, and the careful line of sand drawn on the floor to mark its edges was smeared and smudged, leading towards the door to the main passageway. A door that was currently open, the lock still glowing with magic. Magic that likely came from the figure that whipped around towards Merlin’s room, but apparently saw nothing as he turned back just as quickly. It was long enough for Merlin to determine that the figure was male, that is was no one he recognised, and to obtain a rough approximation of his shape and size if not fully his features, but that would have to do for now as the man darted out into the hallway and out of view.
Just as Merlin wondered where the guards were in all of this, he saw the slumped form of one of them at the edge of the doorway and guessed the same was true of the second one. He left his hiding place to verify both that they would survive and the possible location of just where the man ran off to. He thought he caught a glimpse of the tail of a cloak swishing around the far corner, but he grew more concerned with the obvious line of green across the sleeve of Gilgan’s hauberk and the way black spiralled away from a gash to Harigan’s palm.
“Guards!” Merlin screamed as loud as he could. Four more armoured men appeared at the junction several doors down, and he pointed in the direction where thought the assassin had disappeared. A glance at their fallen friends, and likely the panic Merlin wore writ across his face, and they took off, the rattle of chain mail echoing off the stone.
“Help me?” Harigan pleaded, his breath already short and harsh, hard to hear above the clamour.
Merlin reached for him, tried to think of something he could do, but was stopped by Gilgan’s cry of, “Don’t touch him, you may infect yourself!”
He looked back to Harigan, but now the black disappeared beneath his sleeve and his eyes had drifted closed. Merlin knelt beside him, but was pulled back and away by Gilgan. By the time he had both freed himself and made certain the green had not smeared or spread, Harigan was gone.
“I could have helped him!” he shouted, but Gilgan shook his head.
“He was too far gone, Merlin,” the guard corrected. He looked to his own arm and pulled up the sleeve to reveal a line of black of his own amongst a smear of blood. “As am I,” he shrugged as if death was nothing but an inconvenience. “Use what you learn to save the prince and Camelot,” he ordered.
There was a rattle of breath at the end of his words and Merlin knew he was about to watch another man die. He looked down the hallway and heard the pounding of boots, the useless shouts of people chasing a phantom that was likely already gone. He looked over his shoulder to see the red slowly bleed back to gold as the magic seemed to right itself once more. Finally, he looked to Gilgan and held his hand as the rattle stopped.
He was still holding that hand when he heard another set of boots, softer and without the jangle of armour. He barely registered Arthur’s hands on him, gripping his shoulders and forcing him back into the workroom, pushing him down onto a bench before pacing before him. He figured Arthur had likely been berating him for some time before he finally tuned in enough to make out, “Merlin, did you hear a single word I said?”
“No,” he admitted.
Instead of shouting or screaming or listing in detail the thousand and one ways he was incompetent, Arthur asked with a calmness that seemed almost foreign to him, “Are you okay? Are you uninjured?”
Merlin thought about that for a moment before shakily nodding his head. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I am.”
Arthur let out a whoosh of breath and his shoulders seemed to visibly lower as if a great deal of tension had just left his body. Arthur opened his mouth as if to make a comment, likely derisive, but instead grabbed Merlin’s wrist as he went to rub at his tired eyes.
Merlin was going to ask just what he thought he was doing, or maybe point out that, really, his grip was quite painful, but his eyes tracked Arthur’s gaze and he saw what had brought him cause for concern: there on the cuff of his nightshirt, was a stain of green.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked around a swallow.
He felt fine though, none of the agony or suffocation the others seemed to suffer. Okay, so yeah, his breath was a tiny bit rough, but he had just been through quite the scare and, anyway, he was fairly certain he would know if he was dying.
Merlin peered closer and realised the green was on his cuff only, the fabric rolled and folded. He pulled his wrist around to see the colour had not yet seeped through, but it was a near thing. Arthur saw it at the same time he did and then it was a mad dash to get the offending item off without actually touching the contaminated portion. It was only when the fabric lay in a crumpled pile near the hearth that Merlin realised the burning against his chest had not stopped and that his very skin seemed to hold the faintest shimmers of gold, at least to his own magically adept gaze.
Arthur poked at the talisman he still wore and raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Gift from James?” he guessed.
Merlin nodded, and feared the retribution as he admitted, “Yeah, he would not leave unless I took it.”
Arthur sat down heavily on the bench beside him and slumped back against the slightly higher table. “I do believe I am beginning to like the man,” he commented. “Maybe the other side is not as bad as all that, especially if your little bauble played any role in keeping the poison at bay.” He was panting as though he had just run all the way through the lower town, through the square and up to the highest parapet.
Merlin was as warmed by his obvious concern as he was by the possible acceptance of magic as a force of protection if not pure good. That’s why it pained him to admit, “I think the assassin came through the portal.”
Arthur looked over to him for a moment before leaning forward and hanging his head in his hands. “Of course he did,” he sighed.
“It was glowing, but differently than before. It’s better now, but the colour was off and it looked like the man came from here and not out there and that might be why he was able to surprise the guards and I think James’ talisman warned me about it, but too late to save them,” Merlin rushed to explain.
Arthur lifted his head and held up a hand to stop his rambling. “They are trained guards, Merlin, and you are a servant. There is nothing you could have done,” he insisted. Merlin opened his mouth to protest, knowing far better than Arthur just how much he could have done, but was cut off when asked, “You said man? Did you see what he looked like or if he had any noticeable identifying features?”
Merlin nodded and did his best to remember. He could picture the exact shade of brown-green of the cloak, the way it was hemmed with something that had caught the candlelight and reflected it back at him. The boots and hint of trousers he saw were just slightly higher quality than that of the average villager, but it was the glint of silver on his wrist not holding the knife that had caught Merlin’s eye, a thin band accented in what he thought could be bone though he could not make out the design. The hair was a light brown, as was his beard, neatly trimmed save for a patch that looked like a scar that curved around his cheek, leading to just the tiniest bit of discoloration on his actual skin beneath his eye. His eyes Merlin most definitely remembered: they were the colour of amber, filled with swirls of magic like Merlin had never seen, red and gold entwined together just as the portal had been when Merlin first awoke.
Arthur was clearly pleased with the details provided. He rose to inform both his father and the guard, but paused and spun on his heel at the last moment. “Keep the amulet,” he ordered.
“What?” Merlin questioned, confused. It was bad enough that Arthur saw it, but if a guard or knight or even the king questioned it, he could be accused of sorcery when it was not even his own this time around.
“The amulet, talisman, whatever you want to call it,” Arthur clarified, clearly flustered. “Unless it only works once, keep it. Tell people it was a gift from your mother if you have to; no one will question that from a country boy like you and most will think you always wore it under those ridiculous kerchiefs you favour anyway. Just... keep it, alright?”
Merlin nodded dumbly as he fingered the rough leather cording. He could still feel the magic within, chaotic from its recent use. He doubted it was responsible for preventing the poison when it was clear the liquid had not yet soaked through the fabric, but if it made Arthur happy, so be it. Besides, after seeing the effects up close, first hand, through even the protection of the guards’ armour, he knew he himself could use a little extra reassurance.
Arthur turned and finally left, shouting for Ergan to stand guard to the physician’s chambers as he did so. Merlin watched him go and listened to Ergan arrive and take his place, peering in only once to make certain Merlin was both okay and that there was nothing else lurking about that he should be concerned with. Merlin reassured him as much as possible, but heaved a sigh of relief when he closed the door to take up his position.
He worked as quickly as he dared, knowing his nerves to still be on edge and his movements far more jerky than necessary. The last thing he needed was to knock down some of Gaius’ pots or bottles and attract even more attention to himself. He grabbed a basket he used for gathering herbs and carefully set the nightshirt inside, making certain to in no way touch the tainted sleeve. He then grabbed a quill and parchment and scribbled a note to Morgana about the assassin, the portal, and everything that had transpired that evening. Finally, he sealed the basket with twine and used a bit of melted candle wax to affix the note to the top to ensure it was read before anyone went grabbing about and poisoning themselves. With a wince at the knowledge both Arthur and Gaius would likely berate him for his actions, he pushed the basket through the golden shimmer of the portal.
Shivering now from the chill in the air, he grabbed a bit of ash and sand and redrew the line that marked the boundary between the realms. Satisfied that his actions would have to do for now, he shuffled back to his room, donned his shirt from the day before, and curled back up under the covers to try to get at least some rest before everything came crashing down around them come morning.
He awoke some time later to the warmth of the sun pouring in through his window and the heat of something else entirely upon his chest. He recognised it from the night before as the talisman at work again, and silently groaned as he wondered what fresh mess had arrived for him to deal with this time. He sat up in bed and was ready to sneak back over to the door to investigate when he heard voices coming from the next room.
“I really should not be surprised that you are here.” That sounded like Arthur, someone Merlin would recognise near everywhere and in nearly every condition.
“And I really should not be surprised you are armed.” James. Of course he returned.
Merlin spared a thought as to how he probably should have phrased the events of the night before a little less dramatically in his note to Morgana just as Arthur pointed out, “A castle under attack? Oddly yes, I feel the need for a weapon.”
“And I feel the need to check on a friend,” James replied.
“Merlin’s asleep,” Arthur told him.
“No, I’m not,” Merlin called back, finally reaching his door and making his way down the short set of stairs. He wished he could have said he was surprised to see both men standing there, swords in hand and glares in place, but he really was not.
James turned to him slightly and offered him a nod of greeting. “Your gift woke you?” he guessed.
Arthur did surprise Merlin then by lowering his sword slightly and commenting, “If you mean that little charm you gave him to wear about his neck, then I am pleased to see it still working after last night.”
James looked at Merlin curiously, no doubt questioning how Arthur knew after all of Merlin’s warnings of not mentioning magic in front of him. “He saw it after the attack,” he explained. “I slept with it as promised, though I don’t know if that’s what woke me up then or not.”
It looked as though James was about to nod in understanding, but he cocked his head to the side slightly and his face paled instead. “That shirt you sent through, it was your own,” he said, working out the pieces.
Arthur sighed and sheathed his sword. “Why am I not surprised you sent that to them?” he muttered. A look to their guest and he added, “Though it does make sense why your personal guard here was so quick to appear this morning.” There was no real heat to his tone though, just resignation.
James must have recognised the tone as well as he finally sheathed his own blade. He turned fully to Merlin now and asked, “Are you certain that you are uninjured? The poison on the sleeve, if it touched your skin in any way...”
“I would be dead by now and we would not be having this conversation, now would we?” Merlin replied perhaps a bit too blithely. His nerves were still a little raw and the last thing he needed was for others to remind him about how close to death he could have been. “We lost two guards and, if the expression on Arthur’s face is anything to go by, whoever was responsible got away.”
“There was no sign of him,” Arthur confirmed. “Jessan thought he saw something in the hallway that leads to the guest chambers, but he found only a bit of smoke and what looked to be the aftermath of someone dropping a candle.”
“Transportation spell,” Merlin and James said at the same time. Arthur furrowed his brow at the casual yet certain tone they both used, but Merlin ignored him for a moment to ask, “Is it possible that a spell like that could affect the portal?”
“It would certainly explain the change of colour you reported,” James agreed. “Unfortunately, our Lady has been unable to find anything to explain that as of yet. She’s still looking, and has nearly all the scholars working on this as well, and promises to send through anything promising.”
Merlin nodded again as he processed that bit of information but, of course, it was Arthur who noticed something else and guessed, “So I take it you wish to stay here then?”
Merlin looked to the small bag of gear at James’ feet and realised that should have been self-explanatory from the start. The man was nearly as obnoxious as Arthur when it came to certain things, and his perceived need for safety and well-being and such always ranked right at the top of his list. As if Merlin could not take care of himself or something ridiculous like that. James knew firsthand just how well Merlin could watch out for himself, and for others. The knight had seen Merlin in action, unrestrained by the need to hide his Gifts, and yet felt the need to act like a protective older brother. It was rather annoying at times, though even Merlin had to admit it may have been welcome just that once with that tiny little incident with the arrow and the mage.
Proving his point, James replied, “Master Emrys was nearly killed and your own life is still at risk, sire. It is my duty to ensure the safety of you both, at least until this issue can be resolved.”
Merlin wanted to comment on the fact that he was fine and it was his duty to protect Arthur and quite a bit of other things, but stopped himself, knowing he would reveal far too much. “Let me get my boots,” he said instead. “I’ll fetch enough breakfast for all of us and then we can get to work. Can I trust you two alone long enough for you not to kill each other?”
“I would never harm the heir to the Pendragon throne,” James insisted. As an aside to Merlin and a hint at the man he had grown to be friends with during his time on the other side, he added, “Unless of course they grew corrupted by magic and were a risk to the people of Camelot and needed to be put down like a dog, but I trust that should not happen during your short absence.”
Merlin laughed but Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin could tell he relaxed slightly though, likely finally seeing more than just the warrior before him and maybe finally seeing him as a man or a potential ally if not at least the friend of someone he trusted instead. “I’ll restrain myself,” he answered, strolling over to the bench from the previous night and making a show of sitting down. Merlin did not miss the way his eyes traced the line of soot and ash, or the way they lingered on the smear from the shirt the night before.
That settled, Merlin changed his trousers, pulled on his boots, and carefully tied his scarf about his neck to hide the talisman. He left to fetch enough food for three people, making up a story as to just how famished Arthur was from chasing down shadows to explain the need for a little more than usual being added to the platter. He need not have worried though, as no one questioned why the prince’s manservant asked for an extra loaf of bread, or even cheese to be added. The cook winked at him and tucked his favourite type of sweet roll into napkin as well.
He returned to find Arthur and James quietly arguing, something he felt was about to become a common theme to his life, but listened in long enough to discover it was a research-based argument and not a discussion on the fundamental like or dislike or magic as he had feared. They settled when they saw him, and settled even more when the food was laid out before them. James seemed slightly upset at the way Arthur just set about making a plate for himself with no regards to Merlin’s needs, until he realised the prince left more than a fair share behind and that share included some of Merlin’s favourites.
When Merlin pulled out the sweet roll, Arthur smiled fondly, likely knowing the way the cooks coddled his servant, but James looked at it curiously. “Is that...?” he asked.
Merlin nodded and swallowed the large bite he had just taken to reply, “Yes, and it’s delicious. Try some.” He tore off a piece and offered it to the only slightly reluctant knight.
The moment the confection hit James’ palate, his eyes lit up in delight. “Now I see what you meant!” he exclaimed. “The breads Merian makes are quite similar, but this...”
“Just has that little extra, doesn’t it?” Merlin finished for him. He popped the last piece into his mouth and reached first for some cheese and then for some water, motioning for James to do the same. He had no idea when the knight last ate, or even what time it was when he left, but figured that a trip through the portal tended to make himself feel a bit off, and food was always good for righting that, not to mention they would likely have another long day before them and could use a good start to keep them on task and focused.
The platter had been reduced to scraps by the time they truly got started on their work. Arthur was called out for a conference with his father about the latest attack, and both Merlin and James used the brief respite to send a message to Morgana confirming the knight’s safe arrival, though Merlin suspected James added a bit about just who had technically been at risk the night before as well, especially when he looked up guiltily as he rolled up his own small scroll.
Gaius returned before Arthur did, and took the opportunity to first lecture Merlin and James on the dangers and foolishness of the visit, and then to demand everything the other side had learned thus far that Merlin may or may not have already passed on to him. He took the knowledge, and several scrolls, back to the lab he had set up in the armoury, and Merlin played go between to keep James updated as they were fairly certain it would not be safe for him to be seen.
Arthur did eventually return, only to grimly announce that a laundress had come across what she thought was an interestingly coloured kerchief, only to discover it was soaked through with the poison instead. Gaius had that now and was running further experiments on the cloth, both to determine the remaining ingredients and to hopefully find a way to nullify it if not cure someone who had been infected. Merlin noted with interest that Arthur did not mention if the kerchief had belonged to anyone in particular, or if the entire thing had been planted to expose yet another person to the poison.
He was beginning to agree with the chaos theory - that there were no specific targets as this way no one knew who was truly at risk and everyone lived their life in the shadow of fear. Arthur had set up additional patrols along the borders after finally agreeing with James’ earlier assessment, but declared that there was nothing thus far to indicate an imminent attack.
Merlin disagreed with that. There were enough stirrings, a sense of push and pull against his magic, which made him think that the attack may not be fully physical, but it would no doubt be just as devastating. He could not come right out and say that though, but he planned to bring up his concerns with James the next time Arthur was called away, which could not be too soon. The prince was helpful, yet hindering at the same time. He did not do well with a lack of action and likely would have volunteered to patrol the border himself had he not thought the castle was at greater risk at this time. The border was a calculated risk, solely speculation until the first hint of attack came. The castle had already been hit far too many times, and there was no way he was going to leave the heart of his home undefended if given the choice.
Arthur was to dine with his father that evening and at first Merlin rejoiced at the thought of speaking freely with James once more. Then he realised Arthur intended he attend him at the meal, as was technically his job after all, and had to offer a rough apology to James, knowing he would likely have a conversation about someone with his Gifts in such a lowly position once again.
The positive side of waiting on Arthur that evening was that he finally got a firsthand account of the latest castle gossip. The cooks blathered on while he waited for the courses, and the maids told tales as they both wiped up the unfortunate spills and awaited the final clearing of the table. He learned Gwen was sharing a room with Mairiad, a young woman about her own age that also had family in the lower town. A message was sent with one of the patrols to explain the maid’s absence to her father, but to promise it was with her safety in mind. The father had been grateful as, though he missed out on any scraps his daughter may bring home as a bonus to her wages, he knew she was alive and well and that was far more important.
Merlin also had the chance to overhear the majority of the king and the prince’s conversation on the matters of the assassin and the perceived threat to the castle. Arthur very carefully avoided just how they deduced the possibility of a magical ingredient, and Uther even thanked Merlin for his role after making a derisive comment about never have guessing “the boy” would have the mind to do so. The patrols were to be altered to a rotation schedule usually only used in a time of war in hopes of confusing anyone looking for a weak spot to exploit. Arthur even managed, through careful phrasing that involved no technical lie, to have his father believe that there was likely something the intruder found important in the physician’s chambers and that is why he appeared there to attack the guards.
The king assumed the likelihood of an antidote, and Arthur did nothing to correct him. As Uther believed Gaius was most likely to discover one, he ordered Gaius’ location more heavily protected by moving several of his top knights to temporary quarters nearby, and the actual physician’s chambers to have more obvious guards though only Merlin was to reside there to keep the rouse. Merlin was even directed to make the room appear to have several experiments going, though only harmless ones that were in actuality the equivalent of brewing tea.
That worked fine enough for Merlin, who fully planned to have experiments going, and not just of the tea sort. He had a suspicion as to how to isolate the actual poisonous portion of the compound based in part on something Gaius mentioned and something he saw Morgana attempt during his visit to the other side. Yes, it involved magic as well, but he could do that part while Arthur was otherwise occupied, and the remainder should just look like prettily coloured water dripping into a vial.
When dinner was finally over, Arthur dragged Merlin up to his chambers before he had a chance to steal some of the leftovers for himself. Door soundly shut and the room given a once over to make certain there was no hidden eyes or ears, Arthur turned to him and said, “Do not do anything stupid tonight.”
“Thanks, really,” Merlin replied acerbically. “You pulled me in here for that?”
Arthur huffed and leaned back against the table as he explained, “I mean, whatever experiment, whatever fancy thing that you want to try when you think I won’t be around to stop you - don’t do it.”
Merlin was a little surprised that he had figured that much out to be honest, but had to remember this was Arthur, prince of the land and leader of armies he was talking to. Even he spotted a clue from time to time. “Arthur, I-” he started, but was cut off.
“With James’ love of magic and your love for incompetence, there is no way anything good can come from it,” Arthur told him curtly. “You need someone to reel you in and, if Gaius is not available, that person will need to be me. Under normal circumstances, I would suggest Gwen, but she does not know, nor does she need to know, about James at this time. Just, please, think before you jump in and, if there is any risk at all, don’t do it.”
Merlin blinked. Arthur had just said please. Arthur had just said please, to him even. It made him almost want to promise he would do what he said, wait patiently and not make the advances he knew he could if only given the chance and the freedom to do so, but instead he hedged with, “I will not do anything I have not done countless times before without the proper supervision, you have my word.”
Arthur nodded as though that were more than enough, but then paused, one eyebrow rose curiously, and asked, “Wait, are you saying you will only do things with the proper supervision, or you will only do things you know you can get away with without any supervision at all?”
Merlin had kind of hoped he would not catch that, and was quite glad he had already turned towards the door so he had a chance to school his features before he replied, “Arthur, trust me, I know what I’m doing. The only thing I want to do tonight at all is a simple filtration and I will use all the correct precautions.”
Arthur relented and let him leave with orders to stop by the kitchens for his own meal, which was something he had been planning on doing anyway. The cook, dear that she was, had saved a plate for him, covered though now cold, with some of the best parts of the leftovers. He thanked her, she pinched his cheek and told him once again how much he reminded her of her eldest son, and he ran off to share his bounty with a waiting James while he outlined his plan for the remainder of the evening.
Of course this meant that Arthur was less than amused when, upon his arrival in the physician’s chambers the following morning, his eyes immediately found the blackened mess fused to the wooden table. “Merlin...” he warned.
“It was only a small fire!” Merlin insisted, not understanding why this did not seem to help matters in the least. “We put it out immediately and there was no real damage to anything!”
Arthur looked to the table and then over to the red marks on Merlin’s flailing hands that he had forgotten to tuck under his arms and away from view. “A simple filtration? Correct precautions?” he seethed.
James rose from his spot at the edge of Gaius’ usual cot where he had spent the night, ready to step in if need be, but Merlin waved off his assistance. “It was minor, no worse than what Gaius himself has done in the past, and we managed to isolate the most toxic and poisonous portion of the mixture, which will greatly help in determining the antidote,” Merlin rushed to explain.
That seemed to mollify Arthur, at least a bit, and at least until he looked back to the table that Merlin was proudly gesturing to. “For the love of... Please say you did not put this isolated and deadly contaminate in a tea cup,” he near pleaded.
Merlin looked back down to see what he was going on about and rolled his eyes. “No, that’s breakfast. The toxin is in the vial next to it,” he clarified.
Arthur eyed it warily before he shook his head and sighed, “Do try to keep the two separated?” As an afterthought, he added, “And tea is not a sufficient breakfast, I’ll have something sent up at once.”
Arthur did just that, but left James and Merlin to their task as he was to sit in council that morning and train with the knights that afternoon. He made James promise to keep Merlin out of trouble, and had a selection of the toxin siphoned off for Gaius to work with, stating two approaches were more likely to reach a solution than only one. Merlin did not have the heart to tell him it was technically three approaches as he had already sent a vial through to Morgana prior to his arrival, but thought that was likely another thing they would just fight over anyway, so he was simply avoiding the hassle and the possible delay of Arthur from his duties by neglecting to mention that part.
Merlin and Gaius had managed to nullify two of the three natural poisons, and Merlin had a lead on how to counter the magical one, when Arthur returned from patrol to check on him. A village to the north had reported that game seemed scarcer in recent days, but had seen nothing untoward to date. This could mean either that the migration patterns had changed slightly, or that there were others in the woods taking up the land that the game would normally roam through. Arthur and the few men with him gave it a quick once over, but found nothing. To be on the safe side, he ordered a slightly larger patrol for the evening and the following days, but he honestly could not tell if they were chasing spirits at this point, or James’ warning was coming true.
Merlin assisted him in donning his armour for training, and Arthur insisted on walking him back to the workroom before he left, reminding him again to be careful and to keep James away from the guards.
That was, of course, when they noticed a commotion in the passageway outside of the very room they were headed for. One guard was already collapsed to the floor in a puddle of his own blood, and the second was holding on to someone with a familiar cloak, but a different face.
“That is not the same man,” Merlin announced. This had the unfortunate side effect of surprising both guard and captive. They would have been on even terms as the guard held his ground, but a second man in a near identical cloak with a familiar scar stepped through the doorway to join the fray.
The guard was stabbed, but there were no immediate black lines or green residue to be seen in the quick look that Merlin spared him. He hoped this meant that he would survive, even though he knew it was likely wishful thinking, but had greater concerns at the moment as he was now close enough to see into the room.
The portal glowed a fiery red and James lay splayed across the table, clutching at an arm that dripped freely with its wounds. He did not stay there for long, however, as he grabbed his fallen blade and challenged the duo that clearly intended to return to their own realm. His grip was weak though, and footing unsteady. One man challenged him while the other dove through the glowing curtain and disappeared from view.
Arthur and Merlin ran to James’ aid, Arthur grabbing the man off of him while Merlin surreptitiously used magic to make certain the possibly tainted knife left his hands in the process. It was not enough, as the man growled a spell Merlin himself had used more than once, and Arthur was tossed away from him in a burst of gold.
Arthur pushed to his feet and took off after him, Merlin at his heels, both of them barely registering the portal settling back to its usual state as concerned as they were at catching the apparent assassin. The man stepped through to the other side, there one moment and gone the next, and Arthur did not even pause in his stride as he followed, ignoring Merlin’s protesting calls.
A glance to James to prove he was not only alive, but back on his feet again, and Merlin stepped through as well, knowing that the knight would follow. The now familiar feeling of all of reality swirling and condensing around him, pressing in only to release him in a twirl of colours, washed over him. His momentum carried him through, feet feeling solid ground beneath him and stuttering to a stop as he took in the scene before him.
The guards that had been assigned to the portal in the other realm were busy trying to restrain both the cloaked man and, unfortunately, Arthur. Merlin understood that they did not recognise him as a possible sovereign or even ally, but feared Arthur was not going to be quite as forgiving, especially as he was currently trying to both resist and attack the other traveller.
“He’s with me,” Merlin called, grabbing Arthur back before he inadvertently injured someone. Surprisingly enough, Arthur allowed it, right up until he took a defensive position in front of Merlin, sword still firmly in hand. Merlin rolled his eyes and gestured to the other man, and advised, “He is not.”
The guards nodded, more than one offering a comment of, “Apologies, Master Emrys,” before turning as one to attempt to disarm the would-be assassin. Unfortunately, the man had taken full use of the distraction and had already taken down one of the guards who had managed to lay a hand on him and was challenging the others. His dagger was gone, but he still had his sword and it appeared he was quite skilled with the weapon.
Blades clashed, curses were uttered, and talismans shone brightly. Before Merlin could edge around Arthur to hopefully both protect him and surreptitiously use magic to take the attacker down, and additional distraction was added to the fight as James finally stumbled through, clutching both his arm and his sword, disoriented for a moment, but more than ready to fight if needed.
The assassin used the distraction to push through the guards and head towards the doorway that led to the main passageway. Merlin reached for him, but found Arthur in his way. Not having a talisman or any other magical enhancements, Arthur was easily thrown back against a wall with a single word. Merlin’s instinct was to turn to check on him, but that impulse cost him. His right side exploded in pain, bright and hot, and he looked down dumbly at the slash across his now exposed skin before trying to take a single step towards the now fleeing man and feeling his knees strike the hard stone floor instead.
He heard Arthur calling his name, and watched James chase the man out into the hallway, but everything seemed surreal as his fingers slipped and slide against the warmth dripping down his side.
There were hands on him, gloved and accompanied by the jangle of armour as they moved. He was lowered to the floor and the hands pressed against his side, the pain intensifying with every push and prod. “Merlin!” Arthur breathed. “Are you- of course you are not okay, stupid question. The blade, was it? I don’t see the poison but...”
Merlin was not certain how to reply. He was not certain if he was even capable of replying at all. Simply breathing hurt, and he did not know if he should concentrate on the pain, on Arthur’s words, or on the feeling of his life pouring through his fingers.
There was the pounding of boots, the shadow of others hovering above him. He heard someone, possibly Lionel, call out orders to send for the Healer. There were new footsteps, and the shadows parted. He forced himself to focus when James leaned down next to him, but was more than a little disappointed when he heard him say, “He got away ,Master Emrys. He used a spell as soon as he was clear of the wards of the room. He would have ended up in the castle still, but was likely close enough to an exit to escape.”
Merlin grabbed at him, the blood on his hand smearing across James’ injuries. “You’re alive? He didn’t use the poison?”
James looked almost sheepish as he admitted, “I had knocked his knife away, but he managed to get the one you had left on the table; that is what he attacked me with.”
Merlin nodded even though the slight action hurt. No poison, only harmless herbs and maybe some cheese left over from that morning. He grasped weakly at his tunic, pulling it free from his own injury. He could not see it himself, not without a great deal more pain, so he asked, “And mine?”
He watched as both James and Arthur examined the wound, seeing the identical expressions of relief before James replied, “There is no black, and no trace of the green.”
“He must not have had it on his sword,” Arthur explained. He had tugged Merlin’s scarf free and pressed it against the gash now as he added, “We still need to get you treatment, but at least you shouldn’t die before there’s even a chance.”
Merlin returned Arthur’s grim smile, understanding what he meant even if James looked aghast at the dark humour. His vision was growing darker around the edges, and he knew there was a very good chance he would not remain conscious for much longer, or at least coherent. He licked his lips and willed himself to speak as clearly as possible as he turned to James and ordered, “Keep him away from the Lady, at least until I have a chance to explain a few things.”
“It will be done, Master Emrys,” James promised, ignoring Arthur’s protests.
Merlin trusted his word as much as he trusted the Healer’s ability to do everything possible to save him. That is why he allowed his eyes to slip close, though full unconsciousness appeared to be out of reach at the moment. He remembered being moved, being held up and then lowered onto what was likely a travois of some sort. He remembered the light then dark of the torches in the hallways as he passed. He remembered the feeling of his second favourite tunic being cut off of him and a familiar voice tsking while Arthur’s complaining voice drifted in and out in the background. Finally, he remembered the heat of magic against his wound and the coolness of a bitter liquid being dripped across his lips. After that, he did not remember much at all.
Live Journal Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Dreamwidth Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
This entry was originally posted at http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/343033.html. Current comments
Genre: pre-slash: Arthur/Merlin, tiny bit of het: Gwen/Lancelot
Rating: R for violence
Length: ~45,000 words - Complete
Spoilers: Through Series 2, AU after the end of Series 2
Warnings: Violence, death of minor original characters
Synopsis: A portal has opened in Gaius’ rooms between Merlin’s realm and one very much like it, only on the other side magic was never banned and can be used freely without pain of death. Needless to say, Merlin has fallen through this portal more than once.
Author’s Notes: OMG, it’s done! Oh-so-many thanks to the awesome threnodyjones for the beta job on this monster, and to all the excellent cheerleaders over at
camelot_fleet for their support as I tried to wrap this up for the Finish-a-thon. This ended up far longer than originally intended, but tells the tale I wanted to get out, so I hope people are willing to give it a chance.
Secondary Notes: Suaimhneas = Irish for quiet, peaceful.
Synopsis: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Live Journal Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Dreamwidth Links:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Merlin had barely finished watching the case disappear through the curtain of the portal before Arthur was tugging at him once more. A questioning yelp later, and Merlin found himself being dragged through the hallways, door locked soundly behind him, and ordered to fetch some more food. They did not eat in the workroom, but in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin did not question the change. Being cooped up in one place too long was bothersome. Being cooped up in one place and forced to question your reality and everything you were taught to be real and true and evil could not be much better.
Arthur lounged in his chair, picking at his food and pushing certain morsels Merlin’s way even though he had made certain both had a plate of their own and both had eaten plenty throughout the day. Merlin looked at Arthur’s goblet of wine hopefully, it had been a long afternoon after all and if Arthur was in a giving mood then maybe it was time to chance his luck. It was not to be though, as Arthur pointedly stared at the ewer of water instead, and went so far as to pour Merlin a cupful himself when he tried not to take the hint.
They talked about nothing, really. Random reports that Arthur had no time to read save for a quick glance while Merlin had been setting out the plates, whether every keg needed to be sacrificed due to a single one being tainted, whether Gaius might like his new rooms as a permanent switch - everything save for magic and the possibility of its use in every day life and assassination attempts.
Merlin knew Gaius had found nothing so far. He had checked in on him while the kitchens prepared the food and told him what he had discovered about the Suaimhneas connection, only to discover his mentor knew very little about the group. He had called them a cult instead of a sect, but only knew of their reclusiveness and rumours that they had gone even deeper into hiding during Uther’s Purge of magic users. Gaius suggested the same texts Merlin had already reviewed, but could barely keep his eyes open, so Merlin decided to leave him be. The older man did give one final warning as to not fully trusting anything Morgana discovered, though Merlin was not certain if that was due to the differences between the realms or Gaius’ own biases that he freely admitted to.
Merlin thought about that as he munched on the last bit of his meal. There would be no desserts as they had not yet reached and vetted that portion of the pantry. A maid had found something green and soft in a cupboard earlier in the day and Gaius had wasted an hour testing it only to discover it was a piece of cheese that had gone off. He did not mind though, as everyone was on high alert and it was better safe than sorry. The head cook had been right mad however, and ordered the cupboard in question scrubbed top to bottom, further limiting the processing of the inventory.
When Arthur finally looked as though he was ready to nod off, Merlin started to gather the dishes from the meal to return to the kitchens. Arthur waved off any need for assistance with his night clothes, which meant there was a fair chance he was going to sleep in the tunic and trousers he was currently wearing, but Merlin decided to concern himself with that later, such as when it was time for a trip to the laundress.
It was not until Merlin was at the door that Arthur called out, “Do be careful, Merlin?”
Merlin suspected he meant with more than just the dishes, but raised one of the cups and shifted his grip slightly as he offered a cheeky, “I always am!”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly and his lips quirked with something less than amusement. “Do be careful, Merlin,” he repeated, this time with absolutely no hint of a question.
Merlin lowered the cup and lost his grin as he replied with as much seriousness as he could muster, “I always am, Arthur.”
Arthur turned back to his bed, kicking off his boots as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Sadly, I do believe that.”
Dishes safely dropped off in the kitchens and guards safely locked outside the door, Merlin debated the merits of following Arthur’s lead and not bothering with changing out of what he had worn that day. With a sigh, he forced the tunic over his head anyway as he did not have the same luxury of having enough clothing to constantly have a new outfit at his beck and call. He did now have the luxury of sleeping trousers thanks to Arthur, and he slipped into those as well.
He had forgotten about the talisman until it smacked against his chest, and then he could find no safe place to store it that would not negate its use. He had promised James he would use it, and it was no good buried in a drawer, so he simply laced up his nightshirt a little bit tighter and hoped the leather cording was not too obvious should anyone feel the desperate need to come knocking on his door at any odd hour of the night.
He was asleep pretty much the moment his head hit his pillow, his dreams filled with images of plants and flowers and golden light, but shot wide awake when he swore he heard something in the room outside.
The talisman was warm against his skin, bordering on hot, and he felt his magic come alive and burn a path through his veins. He arose as quietly as he could, avoiding the creaks in the floor through long practice of sneaking in past the times Gaius found reasonable. He peered out the door and instantly knew something was wrong.
The portal was active again, only this time it shone near red instead of its usual gold. It was fading as though recently used, and the careful line of sand drawn on the floor to mark its edges was smeared and smudged, leading towards the door to the main passageway. A door that was currently open, the lock still glowing with magic. Magic that likely came from the figure that whipped around towards Merlin’s room, but apparently saw nothing as he turned back just as quickly. It was long enough for Merlin to determine that the figure was male, that is was no one he recognised, and to obtain a rough approximation of his shape and size if not fully his features, but that would have to do for now as the man darted out into the hallway and out of view.
Just as Merlin wondered where the guards were in all of this, he saw the slumped form of one of them at the edge of the doorway and guessed the same was true of the second one. He left his hiding place to verify both that they would survive and the possible location of just where the man ran off to. He thought he caught a glimpse of the tail of a cloak swishing around the far corner, but he grew more concerned with the obvious line of green across the sleeve of Gilgan’s hauberk and the way black spiralled away from a gash to Harigan’s palm.
“Guards!” Merlin screamed as loud as he could. Four more armoured men appeared at the junction several doors down, and he pointed in the direction where thought the assassin had disappeared. A glance at their fallen friends, and likely the panic Merlin wore writ across his face, and they took off, the rattle of chain mail echoing off the stone.
“Help me?” Harigan pleaded, his breath already short and harsh, hard to hear above the clamour.
Merlin reached for him, tried to think of something he could do, but was stopped by Gilgan’s cry of, “Don’t touch him, you may infect yourself!”
He looked back to Harigan, but now the black disappeared beneath his sleeve and his eyes had drifted closed. Merlin knelt beside him, but was pulled back and away by Gilgan. By the time he had both freed himself and made certain the green had not smeared or spread, Harigan was gone.
“I could have helped him!” he shouted, but Gilgan shook his head.
“He was too far gone, Merlin,” the guard corrected. He looked to his own arm and pulled up the sleeve to reveal a line of black of his own amongst a smear of blood. “As am I,” he shrugged as if death was nothing but an inconvenience. “Use what you learn to save the prince and Camelot,” he ordered.
There was a rattle of breath at the end of his words and Merlin knew he was about to watch another man die. He looked down the hallway and heard the pounding of boots, the useless shouts of people chasing a phantom that was likely already gone. He looked over his shoulder to see the red slowly bleed back to gold as the magic seemed to right itself once more. Finally, he looked to Gilgan and held his hand as the rattle stopped.
He was still holding that hand when he heard another set of boots, softer and without the jangle of armour. He barely registered Arthur’s hands on him, gripping his shoulders and forcing him back into the workroom, pushing him down onto a bench before pacing before him. He figured Arthur had likely been berating him for some time before he finally tuned in enough to make out, “Merlin, did you hear a single word I said?”
“No,” he admitted.
Instead of shouting or screaming or listing in detail the thousand and one ways he was incompetent, Arthur asked with a calmness that seemed almost foreign to him, “Are you okay? Are you uninjured?”
Merlin thought about that for a moment before shakily nodding his head. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I am.”
Arthur let out a whoosh of breath and his shoulders seemed to visibly lower as if a great deal of tension had just left his body. Arthur opened his mouth as if to make a comment, likely derisive, but instead grabbed Merlin’s wrist as he went to rub at his tired eyes.
Merlin was going to ask just what he thought he was doing, or maybe point out that, really, his grip was quite painful, but his eyes tracked Arthur’s gaze and he saw what had brought him cause for concern: there on the cuff of his nightshirt, was a stain of green.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked around a swallow.
He felt fine though, none of the agony or suffocation the others seemed to suffer. Okay, so yeah, his breath was a tiny bit rough, but he had just been through quite the scare and, anyway, he was fairly certain he would know if he was dying.
Merlin peered closer and realised the green was on his cuff only, the fabric rolled and folded. He pulled his wrist around to see the colour had not yet seeped through, but it was a near thing. Arthur saw it at the same time he did and then it was a mad dash to get the offending item off without actually touching the contaminated portion. It was only when the fabric lay in a crumpled pile near the hearth that Merlin realised the burning against his chest had not stopped and that his very skin seemed to hold the faintest shimmers of gold, at least to his own magically adept gaze.
Arthur poked at the talisman he still wore and raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Gift from James?” he guessed.
Merlin nodded, and feared the retribution as he admitted, “Yeah, he would not leave unless I took it.”
Arthur sat down heavily on the bench beside him and slumped back against the slightly higher table. “I do believe I am beginning to like the man,” he commented. “Maybe the other side is not as bad as all that, especially if your little bauble played any role in keeping the poison at bay.” He was panting as though he had just run all the way through the lower town, through the square and up to the highest parapet.
Merlin was as warmed by his obvious concern as he was by the possible acceptance of magic as a force of protection if not pure good. That’s why it pained him to admit, “I think the assassin came through the portal.”
Arthur looked over to him for a moment before leaning forward and hanging his head in his hands. “Of course he did,” he sighed.
“It was glowing, but differently than before. It’s better now, but the colour was off and it looked like the man came from here and not out there and that might be why he was able to surprise the guards and I think James’ talisman warned me about it, but too late to save them,” Merlin rushed to explain.
Arthur lifted his head and held up a hand to stop his rambling. “They are trained guards, Merlin, and you are a servant. There is nothing you could have done,” he insisted. Merlin opened his mouth to protest, knowing far better than Arthur just how much he could have done, but was cut off when asked, “You said man? Did you see what he looked like or if he had any noticeable identifying features?”
Merlin nodded and did his best to remember. He could picture the exact shade of brown-green of the cloak, the way it was hemmed with something that had caught the candlelight and reflected it back at him. The boots and hint of trousers he saw were just slightly higher quality than that of the average villager, but it was the glint of silver on his wrist not holding the knife that had caught Merlin’s eye, a thin band accented in what he thought could be bone though he could not make out the design. The hair was a light brown, as was his beard, neatly trimmed save for a patch that looked like a scar that curved around his cheek, leading to just the tiniest bit of discoloration on his actual skin beneath his eye. His eyes Merlin most definitely remembered: they were the colour of amber, filled with swirls of magic like Merlin had never seen, red and gold entwined together just as the portal had been when Merlin first awoke.
Arthur was clearly pleased with the details provided. He rose to inform both his father and the guard, but paused and spun on his heel at the last moment. “Keep the amulet,” he ordered.
“What?” Merlin questioned, confused. It was bad enough that Arthur saw it, but if a guard or knight or even the king questioned it, he could be accused of sorcery when it was not even his own this time around.
“The amulet, talisman, whatever you want to call it,” Arthur clarified, clearly flustered. “Unless it only works once, keep it. Tell people it was a gift from your mother if you have to; no one will question that from a country boy like you and most will think you always wore it under those ridiculous kerchiefs you favour anyway. Just... keep it, alright?”
Merlin nodded dumbly as he fingered the rough leather cording. He could still feel the magic within, chaotic from its recent use. He doubted it was responsible for preventing the poison when it was clear the liquid had not yet soaked through the fabric, but if it made Arthur happy, so be it. Besides, after seeing the effects up close, first hand, through even the protection of the guards’ armour, he knew he himself could use a little extra reassurance.
Arthur turned and finally left, shouting for Ergan to stand guard to the physician’s chambers as he did so. Merlin watched him go and listened to Ergan arrive and take his place, peering in only once to make certain Merlin was both okay and that there was nothing else lurking about that he should be concerned with. Merlin reassured him as much as possible, but heaved a sigh of relief when he closed the door to take up his position.
He worked as quickly as he dared, knowing his nerves to still be on edge and his movements far more jerky than necessary. The last thing he needed was to knock down some of Gaius’ pots or bottles and attract even more attention to himself. He grabbed a basket he used for gathering herbs and carefully set the nightshirt inside, making certain to in no way touch the tainted sleeve. He then grabbed a quill and parchment and scribbled a note to Morgana about the assassin, the portal, and everything that had transpired that evening. Finally, he sealed the basket with twine and used a bit of melted candle wax to affix the note to the top to ensure it was read before anyone went grabbing about and poisoning themselves. With a wince at the knowledge both Arthur and Gaius would likely berate him for his actions, he pushed the basket through the golden shimmer of the portal.
Shivering now from the chill in the air, he grabbed a bit of ash and sand and redrew the line that marked the boundary between the realms. Satisfied that his actions would have to do for now, he shuffled back to his room, donned his shirt from the day before, and curled back up under the covers to try to get at least some rest before everything came crashing down around them come morning.
He awoke some time later to the warmth of the sun pouring in through his window and the heat of something else entirely upon his chest. He recognised it from the night before as the talisman at work again, and silently groaned as he wondered what fresh mess had arrived for him to deal with this time. He sat up in bed and was ready to sneak back over to the door to investigate when he heard voices coming from the next room.
“I really should not be surprised that you are here.” That sounded like Arthur, someone Merlin would recognise near everywhere and in nearly every condition.
“And I really should not be surprised you are armed.” James. Of course he returned.
Merlin spared a thought as to how he probably should have phrased the events of the night before a little less dramatically in his note to Morgana just as Arthur pointed out, “A castle under attack? Oddly yes, I feel the need for a weapon.”
“And I feel the need to check on a friend,” James replied.
“Merlin’s asleep,” Arthur told him.
“No, I’m not,” Merlin called back, finally reaching his door and making his way down the short set of stairs. He wished he could have said he was surprised to see both men standing there, swords in hand and glares in place, but he really was not.
James turned to him slightly and offered him a nod of greeting. “Your gift woke you?” he guessed.
Arthur did surprise Merlin then by lowering his sword slightly and commenting, “If you mean that little charm you gave him to wear about his neck, then I am pleased to see it still working after last night.”
James looked at Merlin curiously, no doubt questioning how Arthur knew after all of Merlin’s warnings of not mentioning magic in front of him. “He saw it after the attack,” he explained. “I slept with it as promised, though I don’t know if that’s what woke me up then or not.”
It looked as though James was about to nod in understanding, but he cocked his head to the side slightly and his face paled instead. “That shirt you sent through, it was your own,” he said, working out the pieces.
Arthur sighed and sheathed his sword. “Why am I not surprised you sent that to them?” he muttered. A look to their guest and he added, “Though it does make sense why your personal guard here was so quick to appear this morning.” There was no real heat to his tone though, just resignation.
James must have recognised the tone as well as he finally sheathed his own blade. He turned fully to Merlin now and asked, “Are you certain that you are uninjured? The poison on the sleeve, if it touched your skin in any way...”
“I would be dead by now and we would not be having this conversation, now would we?” Merlin replied perhaps a bit too blithely. His nerves were still a little raw and the last thing he needed was for others to remind him about how close to death he could have been. “We lost two guards and, if the expression on Arthur’s face is anything to go by, whoever was responsible got away.”
“There was no sign of him,” Arthur confirmed. “Jessan thought he saw something in the hallway that leads to the guest chambers, but he found only a bit of smoke and what looked to be the aftermath of someone dropping a candle.”
“Transportation spell,” Merlin and James said at the same time. Arthur furrowed his brow at the casual yet certain tone they both used, but Merlin ignored him for a moment to ask, “Is it possible that a spell like that could affect the portal?”
“It would certainly explain the change of colour you reported,” James agreed. “Unfortunately, our Lady has been unable to find anything to explain that as of yet. She’s still looking, and has nearly all the scholars working on this as well, and promises to send through anything promising.”
Merlin nodded again as he processed that bit of information but, of course, it was Arthur who noticed something else and guessed, “So I take it you wish to stay here then?”
Merlin looked to the small bag of gear at James’ feet and realised that should have been self-explanatory from the start. The man was nearly as obnoxious as Arthur when it came to certain things, and his perceived need for safety and well-being and such always ranked right at the top of his list. As if Merlin could not take care of himself or something ridiculous like that. James knew firsthand just how well Merlin could watch out for himself, and for others. The knight had seen Merlin in action, unrestrained by the need to hide his Gifts, and yet felt the need to act like a protective older brother. It was rather annoying at times, though even Merlin had to admit it may have been welcome just that once with that tiny little incident with the arrow and the mage.
Proving his point, James replied, “Master Emrys was nearly killed and your own life is still at risk, sire. It is my duty to ensure the safety of you both, at least until this issue can be resolved.”
Merlin wanted to comment on the fact that he was fine and it was his duty to protect Arthur and quite a bit of other things, but stopped himself, knowing he would reveal far too much. “Let me get my boots,” he said instead. “I’ll fetch enough breakfast for all of us and then we can get to work. Can I trust you two alone long enough for you not to kill each other?”
“I would never harm the heir to the Pendragon throne,” James insisted. As an aside to Merlin and a hint at the man he had grown to be friends with during his time on the other side, he added, “Unless of course they grew corrupted by magic and were a risk to the people of Camelot and needed to be put down like a dog, but I trust that should not happen during your short absence.”
Merlin laughed but Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin could tell he relaxed slightly though, likely finally seeing more than just the warrior before him and maybe finally seeing him as a man or a potential ally if not at least the friend of someone he trusted instead. “I’ll restrain myself,” he answered, strolling over to the bench from the previous night and making a show of sitting down. Merlin did not miss the way his eyes traced the line of soot and ash, or the way they lingered on the smear from the shirt the night before.
That settled, Merlin changed his trousers, pulled on his boots, and carefully tied his scarf about his neck to hide the talisman. He left to fetch enough food for three people, making up a story as to just how famished Arthur was from chasing down shadows to explain the need for a little more than usual being added to the platter. He need not have worried though, as no one questioned why the prince’s manservant asked for an extra loaf of bread, or even cheese to be added. The cook winked at him and tucked his favourite type of sweet roll into napkin as well.
He returned to find Arthur and James quietly arguing, something he felt was about to become a common theme to his life, but listened in long enough to discover it was a research-based argument and not a discussion on the fundamental like or dislike or magic as he had feared. They settled when they saw him, and settled even more when the food was laid out before them. James seemed slightly upset at the way Arthur just set about making a plate for himself with no regards to Merlin’s needs, until he realised the prince left more than a fair share behind and that share included some of Merlin’s favourites.
When Merlin pulled out the sweet roll, Arthur smiled fondly, likely knowing the way the cooks coddled his servant, but James looked at it curiously. “Is that...?” he asked.
Merlin nodded and swallowed the large bite he had just taken to reply, “Yes, and it’s delicious. Try some.” He tore off a piece and offered it to the only slightly reluctant knight.
The moment the confection hit James’ palate, his eyes lit up in delight. “Now I see what you meant!” he exclaimed. “The breads Merian makes are quite similar, but this...”
“Just has that little extra, doesn’t it?” Merlin finished for him. He popped the last piece into his mouth and reached first for some cheese and then for some water, motioning for James to do the same. He had no idea when the knight last ate, or even what time it was when he left, but figured that a trip through the portal tended to make himself feel a bit off, and food was always good for righting that, not to mention they would likely have another long day before them and could use a good start to keep them on task and focused.
The platter had been reduced to scraps by the time they truly got started on their work. Arthur was called out for a conference with his father about the latest attack, and both Merlin and James used the brief respite to send a message to Morgana confirming the knight’s safe arrival, though Merlin suspected James added a bit about just who had technically been at risk the night before as well, especially when he looked up guiltily as he rolled up his own small scroll.
Gaius returned before Arthur did, and took the opportunity to first lecture Merlin and James on the dangers and foolishness of the visit, and then to demand everything the other side had learned thus far that Merlin may or may not have already passed on to him. He took the knowledge, and several scrolls, back to the lab he had set up in the armoury, and Merlin played go between to keep James updated as they were fairly certain it would not be safe for him to be seen.
Arthur did eventually return, only to grimly announce that a laundress had come across what she thought was an interestingly coloured kerchief, only to discover it was soaked through with the poison instead. Gaius had that now and was running further experiments on the cloth, both to determine the remaining ingredients and to hopefully find a way to nullify it if not cure someone who had been infected. Merlin noted with interest that Arthur did not mention if the kerchief had belonged to anyone in particular, or if the entire thing had been planted to expose yet another person to the poison.
He was beginning to agree with the chaos theory - that there were no specific targets as this way no one knew who was truly at risk and everyone lived their life in the shadow of fear. Arthur had set up additional patrols along the borders after finally agreeing with James’ earlier assessment, but declared that there was nothing thus far to indicate an imminent attack.
Merlin disagreed with that. There were enough stirrings, a sense of push and pull against his magic, which made him think that the attack may not be fully physical, but it would no doubt be just as devastating. He could not come right out and say that though, but he planned to bring up his concerns with James the next time Arthur was called away, which could not be too soon. The prince was helpful, yet hindering at the same time. He did not do well with a lack of action and likely would have volunteered to patrol the border himself had he not thought the castle was at greater risk at this time. The border was a calculated risk, solely speculation until the first hint of attack came. The castle had already been hit far too many times, and there was no way he was going to leave the heart of his home undefended if given the choice.
Arthur was to dine with his father that evening and at first Merlin rejoiced at the thought of speaking freely with James once more. Then he realised Arthur intended he attend him at the meal, as was technically his job after all, and had to offer a rough apology to James, knowing he would likely have a conversation about someone with his Gifts in such a lowly position once again.
The positive side of waiting on Arthur that evening was that he finally got a firsthand account of the latest castle gossip. The cooks blathered on while he waited for the courses, and the maids told tales as they both wiped up the unfortunate spills and awaited the final clearing of the table. He learned Gwen was sharing a room with Mairiad, a young woman about her own age that also had family in the lower town. A message was sent with one of the patrols to explain the maid’s absence to her father, but to promise it was with her safety in mind. The father had been grateful as, though he missed out on any scraps his daughter may bring home as a bonus to her wages, he knew she was alive and well and that was far more important.
Merlin also had the chance to overhear the majority of the king and the prince’s conversation on the matters of the assassin and the perceived threat to the castle. Arthur very carefully avoided just how they deduced the possibility of a magical ingredient, and Uther even thanked Merlin for his role after making a derisive comment about never have guessing “the boy” would have the mind to do so. The patrols were to be altered to a rotation schedule usually only used in a time of war in hopes of confusing anyone looking for a weak spot to exploit. Arthur even managed, through careful phrasing that involved no technical lie, to have his father believe that there was likely something the intruder found important in the physician’s chambers and that is why he appeared there to attack the guards.
The king assumed the likelihood of an antidote, and Arthur did nothing to correct him. As Uther believed Gaius was most likely to discover one, he ordered Gaius’ location more heavily protected by moving several of his top knights to temporary quarters nearby, and the actual physician’s chambers to have more obvious guards though only Merlin was to reside there to keep the rouse. Merlin was even directed to make the room appear to have several experiments going, though only harmless ones that were in actuality the equivalent of brewing tea.
That worked fine enough for Merlin, who fully planned to have experiments going, and not just of the tea sort. He had a suspicion as to how to isolate the actual poisonous portion of the compound based in part on something Gaius mentioned and something he saw Morgana attempt during his visit to the other side. Yes, it involved magic as well, but he could do that part while Arthur was otherwise occupied, and the remainder should just look like prettily coloured water dripping into a vial.
When dinner was finally over, Arthur dragged Merlin up to his chambers before he had a chance to steal some of the leftovers for himself. Door soundly shut and the room given a once over to make certain there was no hidden eyes or ears, Arthur turned to him and said, “Do not do anything stupid tonight.”
“Thanks, really,” Merlin replied acerbically. “You pulled me in here for that?”
Arthur huffed and leaned back against the table as he explained, “I mean, whatever experiment, whatever fancy thing that you want to try when you think I won’t be around to stop you - don’t do it.”
Merlin was a little surprised that he had figured that much out to be honest, but had to remember this was Arthur, prince of the land and leader of armies he was talking to. Even he spotted a clue from time to time. “Arthur, I-” he started, but was cut off.
“With James’ love of magic and your love for incompetence, there is no way anything good can come from it,” Arthur told him curtly. “You need someone to reel you in and, if Gaius is not available, that person will need to be me. Under normal circumstances, I would suggest Gwen, but she does not know, nor does she need to know, about James at this time. Just, please, think before you jump in and, if there is any risk at all, don’t do it.”
Merlin blinked. Arthur had just said please. Arthur had just said please, to him even. It made him almost want to promise he would do what he said, wait patiently and not make the advances he knew he could if only given the chance and the freedom to do so, but instead he hedged with, “I will not do anything I have not done countless times before without the proper supervision, you have my word.”
Arthur nodded as though that were more than enough, but then paused, one eyebrow rose curiously, and asked, “Wait, are you saying you will only do things with the proper supervision, or you will only do things you know you can get away with without any supervision at all?”
Merlin had kind of hoped he would not catch that, and was quite glad he had already turned towards the door so he had a chance to school his features before he replied, “Arthur, trust me, I know what I’m doing. The only thing I want to do tonight at all is a simple filtration and I will use all the correct precautions.”
Arthur relented and let him leave with orders to stop by the kitchens for his own meal, which was something he had been planning on doing anyway. The cook, dear that she was, had saved a plate for him, covered though now cold, with some of the best parts of the leftovers. He thanked her, she pinched his cheek and told him once again how much he reminded her of her eldest son, and he ran off to share his bounty with a waiting James while he outlined his plan for the remainder of the evening.
Of course this meant that Arthur was less than amused when, upon his arrival in the physician’s chambers the following morning, his eyes immediately found the blackened mess fused to the wooden table. “Merlin...” he warned.
“It was only a small fire!” Merlin insisted, not understanding why this did not seem to help matters in the least. “We put it out immediately and there was no real damage to anything!”
Arthur looked to the table and then over to the red marks on Merlin’s flailing hands that he had forgotten to tuck under his arms and away from view. “A simple filtration? Correct precautions?” he seethed.
James rose from his spot at the edge of Gaius’ usual cot where he had spent the night, ready to step in if need be, but Merlin waved off his assistance. “It was minor, no worse than what Gaius himself has done in the past, and we managed to isolate the most toxic and poisonous portion of the mixture, which will greatly help in determining the antidote,” Merlin rushed to explain.
That seemed to mollify Arthur, at least a bit, and at least until he looked back to the table that Merlin was proudly gesturing to. “For the love of... Please say you did not put this isolated and deadly contaminate in a tea cup,” he near pleaded.
Merlin looked back down to see what he was going on about and rolled his eyes. “No, that’s breakfast. The toxin is in the vial next to it,” he clarified.
Arthur eyed it warily before he shook his head and sighed, “Do try to keep the two separated?” As an afterthought, he added, “And tea is not a sufficient breakfast, I’ll have something sent up at once.”
Arthur did just that, but left James and Merlin to their task as he was to sit in council that morning and train with the knights that afternoon. He made James promise to keep Merlin out of trouble, and had a selection of the toxin siphoned off for Gaius to work with, stating two approaches were more likely to reach a solution than only one. Merlin did not have the heart to tell him it was technically three approaches as he had already sent a vial through to Morgana prior to his arrival, but thought that was likely another thing they would just fight over anyway, so he was simply avoiding the hassle and the possible delay of Arthur from his duties by neglecting to mention that part.
Merlin and Gaius had managed to nullify two of the three natural poisons, and Merlin had a lead on how to counter the magical one, when Arthur returned from patrol to check on him. A village to the north had reported that game seemed scarcer in recent days, but had seen nothing untoward to date. This could mean either that the migration patterns had changed slightly, or that there were others in the woods taking up the land that the game would normally roam through. Arthur and the few men with him gave it a quick once over, but found nothing. To be on the safe side, he ordered a slightly larger patrol for the evening and the following days, but he honestly could not tell if they were chasing spirits at this point, or James’ warning was coming true.
Merlin assisted him in donning his armour for training, and Arthur insisted on walking him back to the workroom before he left, reminding him again to be careful and to keep James away from the guards.
That was, of course, when they noticed a commotion in the passageway outside of the very room they were headed for. One guard was already collapsed to the floor in a puddle of his own blood, and the second was holding on to someone with a familiar cloak, but a different face.
“That is not the same man,” Merlin announced. This had the unfortunate side effect of surprising both guard and captive. They would have been on even terms as the guard held his ground, but a second man in a near identical cloak with a familiar scar stepped through the doorway to join the fray.
The guard was stabbed, but there were no immediate black lines or green residue to be seen in the quick look that Merlin spared him. He hoped this meant that he would survive, even though he knew it was likely wishful thinking, but had greater concerns at the moment as he was now close enough to see into the room.
The portal glowed a fiery red and James lay splayed across the table, clutching at an arm that dripped freely with its wounds. He did not stay there for long, however, as he grabbed his fallen blade and challenged the duo that clearly intended to return to their own realm. His grip was weak though, and footing unsteady. One man challenged him while the other dove through the glowing curtain and disappeared from view.
Arthur and Merlin ran to James’ aid, Arthur grabbing the man off of him while Merlin surreptitiously used magic to make certain the possibly tainted knife left his hands in the process. It was not enough, as the man growled a spell Merlin himself had used more than once, and Arthur was tossed away from him in a burst of gold.
Arthur pushed to his feet and took off after him, Merlin at his heels, both of them barely registering the portal settling back to its usual state as concerned as they were at catching the apparent assassin. The man stepped through to the other side, there one moment and gone the next, and Arthur did not even pause in his stride as he followed, ignoring Merlin’s protesting calls.
A glance to James to prove he was not only alive, but back on his feet again, and Merlin stepped through as well, knowing that the knight would follow. The now familiar feeling of all of reality swirling and condensing around him, pressing in only to release him in a twirl of colours, washed over him. His momentum carried him through, feet feeling solid ground beneath him and stuttering to a stop as he took in the scene before him.
The guards that had been assigned to the portal in the other realm were busy trying to restrain both the cloaked man and, unfortunately, Arthur. Merlin understood that they did not recognise him as a possible sovereign or even ally, but feared Arthur was not going to be quite as forgiving, especially as he was currently trying to both resist and attack the other traveller.
“He’s with me,” Merlin called, grabbing Arthur back before he inadvertently injured someone. Surprisingly enough, Arthur allowed it, right up until he took a defensive position in front of Merlin, sword still firmly in hand. Merlin rolled his eyes and gestured to the other man, and advised, “He is not.”
The guards nodded, more than one offering a comment of, “Apologies, Master Emrys,” before turning as one to attempt to disarm the would-be assassin. Unfortunately, the man had taken full use of the distraction and had already taken down one of the guards who had managed to lay a hand on him and was challenging the others. His dagger was gone, but he still had his sword and it appeared he was quite skilled with the weapon.
Blades clashed, curses were uttered, and talismans shone brightly. Before Merlin could edge around Arthur to hopefully both protect him and surreptitiously use magic to take the attacker down, and additional distraction was added to the fight as James finally stumbled through, clutching both his arm and his sword, disoriented for a moment, but more than ready to fight if needed.
The assassin used the distraction to push through the guards and head towards the doorway that led to the main passageway. Merlin reached for him, but found Arthur in his way. Not having a talisman or any other magical enhancements, Arthur was easily thrown back against a wall with a single word. Merlin’s instinct was to turn to check on him, but that impulse cost him. His right side exploded in pain, bright and hot, and he looked down dumbly at the slash across his now exposed skin before trying to take a single step towards the now fleeing man and feeling his knees strike the hard stone floor instead.
He heard Arthur calling his name, and watched James chase the man out into the hallway, but everything seemed surreal as his fingers slipped and slide against the warmth dripping down his side.
There were hands on him, gloved and accompanied by the jangle of armour as they moved. He was lowered to the floor and the hands pressed against his side, the pain intensifying with every push and prod. “Merlin!” Arthur breathed. “Are you- of course you are not okay, stupid question. The blade, was it? I don’t see the poison but...”
Merlin was not certain how to reply. He was not certain if he was even capable of replying at all. Simply breathing hurt, and he did not know if he should concentrate on the pain, on Arthur’s words, or on the feeling of his life pouring through his fingers.
There was the pounding of boots, the shadow of others hovering above him. He heard someone, possibly Lionel, call out orders to send for the Healer. There were new footsteps, and the shadows parted. He forced himself to focus when James leaned down next to him, but was more than a little disappointed when he heard him say, “He got away ,Master Emrys. He used a spell as soon as he was clear of the wards of the room. He would have ended up in the castle still, but was likely close enough to an exit to escape.”
Merlin grabbed at him, the blood on his hand smearing across James’ injuries. “You’re alive? He didn’t use the poison?”
James looked almost sheepish as he admitted, “I had knocked his knife away, but he managed to get the one you had left on the table; that is what he attacked me with.”
Merlin nodded even though the slight action hurt. No poison, only harmless herbs and maybe some cheese left over from that morning. He grasped weakly at his tunic, pulling it free from his own injury. He could not see it himself, not without a great deal more pain, so he asked, “And mine?”
He watched as both James and Arthur examined the wound, seeing the identical expressions of relief before James replied, “There is no black, and no trace of the green.”
“He must not have had it on his sword,” Arthur explained. He had tugged Merlin’s scarf free and pressed it against the gash now as he added, “We still need to get you treatment, but at least you shouldn’t die before there’s even a chance.”
Merlin returned Arthur’s grim smile, understanding what he meant even if James looked aghast at the dark humour. His vision was growing darker around the edges, and he knew there was a very good chance he would not remain conscious for much longer, or at least coherent. He licked his lips and willed himself to speak as clearly as possible as he turned to James and ordered, “Keep him away from the Lady, at least until I have a chance to explain a few things.”
“It will be done, Master Emrys,” James promised, ignoring Arthur’s protests.
Merlin trusted his word as much as he trusted the Healer’s ability to do everything possible to save him. That is why he allowed his eyes to slip close, though full unconsciousness appeared to be out of reach at the moment. He remembered being moved, being held up and then lowered onto what was likely a travois of some sort. He remembered the light then dark of the torches in the hallways as he passed. He remembered the feeling of his second favourite tunic being cut off of him and a familiar voice tsking while Arthur’s complaining voice drifted in and out in the background. Finally, he remembered the heat of magic against his wound and the coolness of a bitter liquid being dripped across his lips. After that, he did not remember much at all.
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