Fic: Trembling on the Edge (1/?)

[dk323]

Title: Trembling on the Edge
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4,431
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur (eventual), Will Stanton, Bran Davies, Lancelot/Gwen
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper. Some elements inspired by the 2010 film, “Never Let Me Go.”
Summary: Merlin is just a university student. He’s not some incarnation of a mythical sorcerer. But he soon discovers that some myths are real…

As dark trouble stirs and Merlin’s world is in danger from an insidious threat, will the one thing that makes Merlin that magical legend return to him? Especially when he needs it the most?

Author’s Notes: This is a Modern!AU + Reincarnation fic. I partially blame seeing “Never Let Me Go” recently for this story idea. ; )

~ * ~

"We do die. We tremble on the edge of Time. But then we come back." 
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3048253/1/The_World_to_Come  (The World to Come by Eildon Rhymer)

~ * ~

Merlin almost glared at the somewhat shifty looking man who shoved the paper into his hands.

“What is this about?” Merlin demanded to know.

Looking at the paper, he only saw a picture of what looked like a 13-year old child. The boy seemed rather unremarkable. He had light brown hair, a forelock of it just getting into his blue-grey eyes, and a round average looking face. There was a hint of a solemn expression that Merlin thought strange somehow on a boy so young, but the thought was fleeting on his part.

The words on the paper were:

Most Wanted: Will Stanton
Beware: He is dangerous when provoked.

“The boy’s dangerous,” the man said gruffly. “Better watch for him.”

Merlin stared at him, then at the paper in his hand. He frowned and said firmly, “This is ridiculous. Obviously anyone would put up a fight if they’re provoked. Go find someone else to bother,” Merlin told the man.

And then he crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the nearest trash bin. Making sure his message got across, Merlin shoved past the man. He didn’t even glance back when the man started shouting at him, telling him that Merlin would be sorry for not taking the warning to heart.

But really, Merlin thought that the stranger had to be a mad man. A boy like that? How could he be dangerous?

Well, that was the last time he took the long way back to his flat from uni if that was what he had to deal with.

He walked more quickly now, to avoid being stopped by someone else, but what he saw appearing on the shop windows drew his attention. It was the same notice that the stranger had handed him.

What was odder still was that the notices weren’t being put up anyone. They just suddenly appeared, outside of each shop, as if they were being taped on magically.

Merlin thought it was ironically poetic that he was witnessing some strange magic unfold before his eyes. Growing up, most everyone teased him on his somewhat unfortunate name.

Though his mum had always told him she had named him after the Merlin falcon, the bird she was most fond of. Merlin sobered as he remembered his mother. She had been killed in a car accident almost two years ago. Merlin still found it hard to think about, losing his mum so suddenly and horribly like that.

A mysterious uncle named Stephen, who was his father’s younger brother, had contacted him not long after his mother’s death. Merlin communicated with his uncle through letters and by phone. He had assured Merlin any financial support he would need to live comfortably. While his mum had supported him well enough with her modest salary from her office job, she could only do so much raising him on a single income.

Merlin’s father had disappeared, or at least that’s what his mother had told him, when Merlin was very young. He figured that had to be the truth because his mum had been honest. She would’ve never lied to him. Especially if it involved family.

Even this uncle who had seemingly come out of the blue stuck to that story. So Merlin had believed it. Even if he wished he could find out why his father had disappeared, Merlin was grateful at least that his father hadn’t run out on his mother and him.

It was clear once Merlin had seen the money coming into his bank account that the previously unheard of uncle was a wealthy one too. Though that didn’t stop Merlin from continuing his job at the bookstore he worked at. He enjoyed it at the shop too much to quit.

Besides the “Most Wanted” notice, Merlin was puzzled by the other notice about organ donation. The words on the notice said that you should donate your organs for the good of humanity.

Something compelled him to stare harder at one of the donation notices. He drew back a breath when he saw the words on the page shift around and the message changed.

He now read:

The Dark is rising.

Be careful, Merlin.

Upon reading that, Merlin was seized with a sudden fear, of what he wasn’t sure. But he just felt, deep down in his gut, that something was very, very wrong.

He grew increasingly anxious when several people directed their gazes toward him, the early evening leaving them half in shadow, half lit by the street lamps. The effect was downright eerie. Merlin felt like there was a bull’s eye on him.

That left him more grateful than ever when he heard Lancelot’s voice.

“Hey Merlin, get in. I’ll give you a ride,” Lancelot offered from his car.

Relief swept through Merlin as he gratefully climbed into the front passenger’s side.

“Thanks, Lancelot,” he said honestly.

“No problem,” Lancelot said amicably as he pressed the gas and resumed driving the car down the street.

Then Merlin got a good look at Lancelot’s face. He looked a bit pale and he appeared worried as well.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked him, concerned for his friend.

“Gwen’s missing,” Lancelot confided in him. “But it’s odd because I get this feeling that she’s all right, but still…I wish I knew where she was,” he told Merlin earnestly.

“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that,” Merlin said sympathetically. “When did you know she was gone?”

“I woke up this morning like usual…and her side of the bed was empty. I checked our flat, and she wasn’t anywhere to be found. It’s not like her, you know that, Merlin. She would at least tell me or leave me a note that she was leaving. But there was nothing. I called her work and everything. No one has heard from her.”

While Lancelot had finished university a year ago and was currently out in the work world, Gwen was working part-time together with attending the same university Merlin went to. Gwen was scheduled to work that particular day, and Merlin knew she had an evening class tonight as well.

Merlin knew how much Lancelot cared for Gwen. Merlin had been friends with Lancelot since Sixth Form - Merlin had been in his first year while Lancelot was in his second and final year. As such, Lancelot had been a mentor of sorts to Merlin and the pair had become good friends.

When Lancelot met Gwen in his first year at uni, Merlin could easily say that it had been love at first sight for one of his closest friends and the girl who he became fast friends with. It was hard not to like Gwen what with her warm and caring nature. Merlin always enjoyed talking with her. He was just as upset as Lancelot that she had inexplicably gone missing. Especially now after the weird notices and the warning message about the Dark rising.

Under these unnerving circumstances, there really couldn’t be worse time for Gwen to disappear as well.

Lancelot sighed as he turned into another street. “There’s something else too. You know Arthur? He's the friend who hired me to work at his software company. Good man.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Merlin said somewhat dismissively. “My life would be complete if I’d meet a man named Arthur,” he commented drily.

Arthur was almost three years older than Merlin. Lancelot had been friends with Arthur since they were children. While Arthur went to more posh schools when he was older since his family was notably wealthy, he still maintained his friendship with Lancelot.

Merlin had never met Arthur, which Lancelot and Gwen always teased him about. Because how funny would it be for a Merlin and Arthur to meet? Especially someone who was like a blond god that Arthur was, Gwen had cajoled him.

She had been considerably drunk at that point, and Lancelot had only laughed good-naturedly. He was assured enough in his relationship with Gwen not to be threatened by her finding another man attractive. After all, Lancelot had said that Gwen did speak the truth after all. Merlin had been defiant and firmly reminded them that he had been named after a bird, not the sorcerer who had been advisor to King Arthur. And that was all a myth, a fictional legend anyway.

Unfortunately his arguments always seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“His name is Arthur Pendragon,” Lancelot pointed out. “And I have it in confidence that you’re his type. He is interested in meeting you.”

“I’ll just die a lonely, old man, thanks,” Merlin shot it down automatically, but inside, he couldn’t completely suppress his desire to finally meet this Arthur.

Then he heard himself speaking inside his own head. They were words he couldn’t quite recall himself saying before. It was like an echo of something half-forgotten. “We’re stronger together, Arthur,” he heard inside his head.

Merlin shook it off. It was probably nothing.

“Are you all right, Merlin?” Lancelot asked him.

“I’m fine. What is it about Arthur?” Merlin returned to the topic at hand.

“Oh right. Arthur was behaving oddly at work today. There were these pebbles that some person started placing everywhere in the building. I personally have never seen the man before. He was really thin, with a bit of a rat face. Definitely looked like someone you’d want to avoid.”

“Okay, so clearly the rat face man had a weird thing with pebbles…” Merlin ventured, puzzled.

“I don’t think they were just pebbles. I tried to move one of them, but I couldn’t move it at all. It was like the pebble was permanently stuck to any surface it was on. And also, people started arguing with each other any time they were near a pebble. Arthur, well... He was the only one who was able to remove the pebbles. He spent the entire day taking the pebbles away and quelling any arguments people were having. Though the arguing usually stopped once Arthur had broken whatever hold the pebbles had on others.”

Merlin was undoubtedly intrigued by this. What was going on? First the strange notices, the hidden warning message, people looking at him like he was a target, and now this Arthur apparently had begun displaying some kind of magical abilities.

Lancelot shook his head then. “The most entertaining part, I suppose, is when Arthur called the rat face man - goodness knows why he was still hanging around the building - into his office. Arthur took the bag of pebbles he had collected and upturned the bag, so that all the pebbles fell on the mystery man’s head. He told the rat face man to “Fuck off,” in a very loud, commanding voice. Almost everyone heard it. Arthur didn’t quite sound like himself. But the message had been received and the rat face man ended up leaving the building in a hurry. Clearly Arthur had rattled him.”

“Huh,” Merlin mused, biting his lip thoughtfully. “Did you speak to Arthur about what was going on with him?”

Lancelot nodded. “Of course I did. He’s my best mate after all. He confided in me that he believed those pebbles were warestones. He wasn’t completely sure how he knew that and he wasn’t sure how he could break their power. But he knew that the warestones were the reason why people engaged in arguments with one another. And Arthur knew that he had to stop the conflict. He also told me that he felt like he had been possessed…by himself…whatever that means, for most of the day. But when I spoke to him, he seemed okay. Like the Arthur I knew. So if he had been possessed, then it had only been a temporary thing.”

“How can you be possessed by yourself?” Merlin asked, confused. “Are you sure you heard him right?”

Lancelot looked as puzzled as Merlin was. “I don’t know. It’s not like Arthur is a fountain of knowledge on possession, but he said that whatever spirit was inside of him felt wholly familiar. It didn’t quite feel like a foreign entity that was invading his body, it was more like a kindred spirit.”

Merlin slumped down in his seat. “Another bit of strangeness to add to my day,” he remarked idly. “Did you see the notices? The one about that boy, Will Stanton? And the one about organ donation? I saw a message in the latter one. Like a hidden message. It said, “The Dark is rising. Be careful, Merlin.” I have no idea who wrote it.”

“I saw both of them. I didn’t get that hidden message you saw. But you know what I think?” Lancelot ventured.

“Yeah, what?”

“I think Will’s one of the good guys and that something big and unpleasant is coming. So I’d like to believe someone has a clue as to what’s going on.”

“I’m inclined to say the same thing. A shifty looking man handed me the flyer on the boy. If I had to choose, I’d go for the boy instead of some man who looks like he’s in a shady business.”

“Good choice,” Lancelot agreed. “Arthur thinks the apocalypse is coming. Again, he’s not sure why. Today was just a whole day of weird on Arthur’s front. He also thought that boy, Will Stanton, looked old.”

“I sort of thought the same thing,” Merlin mused. “He had a look on his face that didn’t seem to fit on someone his age…”

“You see, you should meet Arthur. Both of you had a bit of a strange day. Must mean something,” Lancelot quipped.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but he declined to comment.

Shortly after, Lancelot reached Merlin’s flat. Merlin thanked Lancelot for the ride and offered to help in any way he could in finding out where Gwen was.

One week later:

Merlin hadn’t heard from Lancelot for a few days. The last time he had seen him was when Lancelot had given him a ride that one bizarre evening the previous week.

His Uncle Stephen had been calling more frequently now, at least three times a day. He kept asking Merlin if he was all right and warned him to be vigilant. Then his uncle said something strange…it sounded like he was more reassuring himself than speaking to Merlin, but he had told Merlin, “It should be fine. They shouldn’t be able to get to you. It should be fine. Don’t worry.”

The strangeness of his uncle’s words only left Merlin all the more confused. What was going on?

And then there was the organ donation table at his university. For some reason, all the professors were pushing students to go to fill out the organ donation form. It would save the lives of sick individuals after all.

But Merlin had felt an unpleasant feeling whenever he was near the table. Something in his mind told him that it was a bad idea to fill out the form. So he went with his instincts and avoided filling it out.

One of the people advertising the organ donations came up to him once though. The woman insisted he sign up for it. It was the right thing to do. His friend Freya had been with him then. Merlin had blown off the older woman by saying that his name was Merlin, so his organs were very magical, and therefore priceless. So he was terribly sorry, but he couldn’t spare any of his organs. He was quite attached to them. Freya had laughed at his joke, but she did take the form that the woman had given her.

Later, Merlin had tried to convince her not to go through with this organ donation programme, that something was just not right about it.

Freya got a weird look in her brown eyes and she shook her head. She didn’t listen to him and said that she simply had to participate. It was a positive cause, to save the lives of others.

Unsure what to do, Merlin decided to call his Uncle Stephen and tell him about his concerns. He just felt that his uncle was the right person to turn to. Ever since Merlin had been in contact with him, Merlin had this sense that his uncle was a part of something bigger, that he knew things that others weren't aware of. His uncle immediately offered to help and he had sent someone to take Freya. The last Merlin heard is that his uncle hoped to protect his friend and make sure she was rid of her need to participate in the organ donation programme.

Merlin grew increasingly alarmed when it seemed like a majority of the students at his university were filling out the organ donation forms. A lot of people were also looking at him in accusation, like everyone knew that he hadn’t filled out the organ donation form.

Merlin was half-worried someone would attack him, the accusing looks sent him that far on edge.

The only reprieve, if you could call it that, was the dreams he had at night. Arthur was in them. He had only seen pictures of him, but in the dreams, Merlin felt like he knew the blond man intimately.

As if the strangeness of the last few days couldn’t get any stranger, Merlin now had to contend with having sex dreams with a man he hadn’t met.

But he was slowly resigning himself to the fact that maybe he did know Arthur in some sense…once, long ago.

Maybe reincarnation really did happen… because otherwise, Merlin couldn’t explain why he was dreaming about Arthur in this way.

One evening, Merlin was taking the short way home - not wanting to meet another shifty looking man, thank you very much - and that’s when things took a very interesting turn.

He saw the boy, Will Stanton, from the notices in the flesh.

And a man was holding a knife to the boy’s throat, a trickle of blood coming down as the knife had broken the skin.

Of course, Merlin had to intervene. It was the right thing to do. He entered the alleyway that the man and the boy were in.

“Let him go,” Merlin ordered the man.

“You have no idea who this boy is. He and his little friend are playing a child’s game. And they’re going to lose. You should go home,” the man told him firmly.

Merlin saw how scared the boy looked. The man had a solid grip on him; both of the boy’s hands were restrained behind him.

“No. I’m not leaving until you let him go,” Merlin said, standing his ground.

The man laughed cruelly. He moved the knife to the boy’s face and the weapon’s sharp tip drew a line of blood on his cheek. “Oh please. The boy’s immortal. He’s in no danger,” the man assured him, then he spoke to the boy, “Your masters have all gone, Old One…you’re going to lose. This isn’t even your reality! Why don’t you just leave us this reality and you could go back home and stop getting into our business.”

“I can’t do that,” the boy said quietly.

“Let’s see how long it’ll take you to come back to life,” the man said in amusement.

As the man positioned the knife to cut the boy’s throat, Merlin heard a roar in his ears like something was rushing back inside of him.

Suddenly, inexplicably, Time had stopped.

And Merlin was sure that he was the one who did it. But even if he apparently had his magic back, or at least some of it - he had a feeling that not all of his magic had returned --, he still didn’t remember whatever he was supposed to remember.

He knew he wouldn’t be too surprised if the memories he was missing had to do with him being King Arthur’s court sorcerer and advisor.

Before he could throw the knife as far away as possible from the boy, Merlin felt himself being swept off the ground as a lilting, almost enchanting melody played.

He was being transported somewhere.

~ * ~

Merlin found himself in a bedroom. He had landed on the bed. The walls in the bedroom were white and there was one big window on the wall to his right. A door was on his left. One big painting of what looked like Welsh hills was directly in front of the bed.

Merlin took a closer look at the painting. It was beautiful. He thought it could be the Cader Idris, the Seat of Arthur. He had visited Wales a few times over the years, so he had felt he had a good grasp of the names of most of the mountains and hills. There was a note tacked on to the frame that said, “I read your book on Welsh history. Only you, Bran. Max painted this. Hope you like it. - Will”

Merlin could only assume this was the same Will he had just seen. He hoped the boy was all right.

Then the door opened and Merlin was startled when a boy Will’s age entered the room.

The boy had to be albino because he was literally drained of all colour. He had white hair -- Merlin was sure that the hair hadn’t been bleached, but that it was truly white - and his skin wasn’t just pale, it was very white as if bleached by the summer sun. He was slim, and wore a dark jumper and dark pants which, of course, accentuated his strangeness. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes.

He was also carrying a clipboard.

“Hello, my name is Bran. And you’re probably confused right now about how you ended up here,” Bran acknowledged. He spoke in a clear Welsh accent, giving Merlin good reason to believe the boy was from Wales. “Will’s better off at doing this sort of thing, but he’s a bit bloodied up now.”

“He’ll be all right?” Merlin wanted to make sure.

Bran nodded. “Yes, he’ll be fine. I wish he didn’t have to put himself in that position, but sometimes he refuses to listen to me. It’s going to get worse unfortunately,” he admitted sadly. “Your friends Lancelot and Gwen are here as well. They’re perfectly safe.”

Merlin felt relieved at that. “Can I see them?”

“Yes, in a little while. You’re in the Sanctuary now. You had better get comfortable because you’re not going to leave here for some time. Will says we can’t risk it. You’re at the heart of this.”

“The man who threatened him said that Will was from another reality… what does that mean?”

“There is your reality and then there is another reality…the one Will and I have come from. Will and I have had experience fighting the enemy your reality is currently contending with.”

“And what enemy is that?”

“The Dark, of course. You got Will’s message about the Dark rising? That’s them. As their name implies, they’re no good.”

“Yes, I saw that message,” Merlin informed him.

“I’m going to take off my glasses now. I need you to look directly into my eyes. I have to verify you truly are the right person. Just a formality, honestly,” Bran assured him.

The pale boy took off his glasses and Merlin tried his best not to cry out in surprise at the odd colour of Bran’s eyes.

They were a tawny golden colour, a shade more commonly seen in cats and birds, but Bran seemed to be far from a common person.

A snatch of memory came to Merlin as he looked Bran in the eye.

Arthur was speaking to him, his tone thoughtful. “You know, Merlin, when you do magic, your eyes are golden. Did you know that?”

Then the memory was gone.

Bran nodded. He checked something off on the paper on his clipboard. “You’re the one.”

“Are your eyes that colour all the time?” Merlin asked, feeling a bit dumb for asking that. Of course they had to be.

“Unbelievable, I know, but yes they are. You’ll get used to them. My eyes are sensitive to light, so I usually wear dark glasses as a result.”

“Who are you really? I’m guessing you’re Will’s friend… I saw the painting, but I think there’s something more to you.”

Bran smiled secretly at him. “I love that you’re not even questioning the existence of two realities bit.”

Merlin lay down on the bed, his arms behind his head. He sighed. “I don’t know. This whole thing doesn’t make sense, but somehow I believe it… but I think the two realities part of it isn’t all that crazy. I’m not sure why. But I definitely have a feeling that something bad is happening in my reality or whatever, and if there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it.”

“That’s good then. We need your help to save your reality. You, me, Will, Lancelot, Gwen, and Arthur…”

“Arthur?" Merlin asked with undisguised interest. "Is he here? I haven’t met him yet.”

Bran shook his head. “No. He’s the last of the Six. We still need to bring him here,” he told Merlin.

~ * ~

“My Lord, the Old One has five of the Six. He is doing better than expected.”

“He still needs to get the last one,” the Lord of the Dark acknowledged, appearing pleased at the shot of ruining his opponent’s plan. “And I know just how to prevent him from getting that incarnation of King Arthur,” the man said determinedly.

“How will you do that?”

“I’m going to shut and lock the door, so to speak. Will Stanton and the other four will be confined to his little conjured Sanctuary outside Time. And Arthur Pendragon will remain in his reality.”

“While we carry out our plan in his reality,” the other man established.

The Lord smiled wickedly. “And if we gain a victory in this reality, then it’s only a matter of time that we can have another go in the reality we were so rudely banished out of. It should go smoothly, I’m sure,” he said confidently.

“But, My Lord, the albino boy. He’s the Pendragon. He’s with the Old One. If they’re together again, and the boy has been reawakened into his powers--”

“Do I look like a fool to you?” He yelled at the man in irritation. “Do not tell me things like I don’t know them! I am aware of the situation and your doubt gives me great displeasure. Leave me now.”

“But…” the man ventured again.

The Lord gave him a dark look. Wisely, the man left.

~ * ~
Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4