Scarborough Fair - Part 4
Title: Scarborough Fair
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
A/N: Scarborough Fair was written for the After Camlann Big Bang and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt. Thanks to my talented artist rishimakapur, my cheerleader gilli_ann, my proofreader gibbous_moon, and my wonderful beta lawgoddess.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
Tell her to gather it all in a sack,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
And carry it home on a butterfly’s back,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Merlin was greeted by the last person he expected to see in Scarborough.
“You remember Lancelot, of course,” Gwen said. Her cheeks blushed prettily when she took Lancelot’s arm and led him to Merlin.
“Of course,” Merlin said. He stepped forward to greet Lancelot, holding out his hand. He smiled when, instead of bracing his hand to Merlin’s forearm, Lancelot pulled Merlin into a hug.
“I’ve missed you so much, my friend,” Lancelot said.
Merlin could hear the sincerity in Lancelot’s voice.
With the tension broken, Merlin sighed with relief that the three of them were still friends. Whatever had transpired between Arthur, Gwen, and Lancelot, had been put aside in the weeks that had passed.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Merlin said, holding Lancelot tight. He was sorry to see that Lancelot had exchanged the crimson cloak of Camelot’s knights for the rich blue wool of Caerleon’s guards. A soft fur trim decorated its hem. Lancelot looked striking in it and Merlin could understand why Gwen only had eyes for him.
“I understand you’re trying to get Arthur to allow Gwen back to Camelot,” Lancelot said when he stepped back from Merlin’s embrace.
“I am,” Merlin said. “I’m working on it, at least. You know how stubborn Arthur can be.”
“Not stubborn,” Lancelot said. “He’s decisive and committed. It’s one of the things that make him a great king.”
Merlin nodded. He hadn’t expected Lancelot to be so gracious in his views about Arthur.
“I would have liked to serve him for much longer than I was allowed, but alas,” Lancelot said, his eyes meeting Gwen’s, “it was not possible.”
A heavy silence hung between them. If not for the shouts of vendors, the bargaining shoppers, and the sound of coins being dropped into pouches, Merlin feared that he would blurt out what a fool Arthur had been to drive his best knight away. Instead, he remembered the morning spent in Arthur’s bed. His prick still twitched every time he thought about Arthur’s ministrations.
“Perhaps he’ll come to his senses,” Merlin said.
“I hope so,” Gwen said. “I’d like to be able to return to Camelot to visit my brother. It seems unfair that Elyan should suffer because of something I’ve done.”
“Yes, Gwen tells me that you used some of your special talents to make a shirt of some sort,” Lancelot said. “Do you know if your efforts have brought Arthur any closer to letting Gwen return? She has many friends in Camelot that she’d like to visit after the fair.”
“I’m not really sure what he’s thinking,” Merlin said. It seemed so strange to be speaking to two people who knew about his magic. Merlin felt lighter, as if a dark cloud that had followed him from Ealdor to Camelot had suddenly been lifted. Gwen and Lancelot would always be his dearest friends. Their joy at being reunited overwhelmed Merlin. He wished that he could share in their happiness, but he had Arthur to think about.
“Well, we know you’re doing your best to help,” Lancelot said, clapping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.
“You always do your best where Arthur is concerned,” Gwen said, smiling brightly. “Now, where are your herbs? I have a pouch filled with coins for the things in your stall that have sold since yesterday.”
Merlin couldn’t believe that it was only yesterday that he had been in Scarborough, trying to complete the tasks that would allow Gwen to return to Camelot. In his haste to return and fulfil Arthur’s wishes, he had neglected to check with Gaius to see if he had any more herbs for him to deliver.
“Herbs?” Merlin asked.
“Yes, and we’ll need more of the poultices too,” Gwen said. She stooped to reach beneath the table in her stall where the absent vendors’ earnings were kept. “It was very clever to make up the dry poultices in advance.”
“It was Gaius’s idea,” Merlin said, not wanting to take credit for the idea that would keep Gaius from having to ride from village to village whenever someone strained their back or suffered from sweating sickness.
“Yes, Gwen was telling me that people could simply purchase them ahead of time and soak them in hot water when they needed a poultice remedy at home. It’s truly ingenious,” Lancelot said.
“I’m glad they’re selling so well,” Merlin said. “In fact, I need to get back to Camelot right away to make more of them for our stall.”
“You can’t leave already,” Gwen said, handing over a pouch of coins. “Lancelot has just come from Caerleon. Won’t you stay the night?”
“I can’t,” Merlin said. “I should get back to Camelot to get more herbs.”
“Please,” Lancelot said. “Gwen tells me there’s a feast every night in the mead hall. I bet they have those lingonberry tarts that you love so much! And there are so many things to see at the fair. I’ve been in Scarborough since early this morning and I still haven’t seen all the wares offered for sale.”
“If you’ll stay the night, I can find you a bed at Lord Simeon’s castle,” Gwen said. “He has most of his men watching over the fairgrounds in the evening, so he has plenty of empty rooms for weary travellers.”
A soft bed sounded good to Merlin. He had ridden back and forth from Camelot twice these past days and his arse was sore. But he couldn’t stay here and convince himself that he wanted Arthur to welcome Gwen back to his home and his heart.
“I’d love to,” Merlin said, “but I really must get back to Camelot.”
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Gwen said, pulling him into an embrace. “Try to enjoy the fair while you’re here. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
~
Merlin took Gwen’s advice and wandered the fairgrounds. He felt bad that Gaius was too old and frail to make the journey to Scarborough, where he could enjoy the fair. After travelling the distance himself twice in as many days, Merlin’s back felt like that of an old man. It felt good to walk around and admire the talents of the craftspeople from different kingdoms.
He visited the stalls and used a few coins to purchase a collection of spices that Gaius would enjoy using when he cooked, more linen to make poultices, and some leather lacings that Gaius could use to replace the ones that were old and worn and barely kept the old man’s boots tight. At least this trip to Scarborough wouldn’t be wasted, even if he couldn’t bear to tell Gwen that Arthur had yet more demands to make of her. And even if Gwen performed the new tasks, Merlin now had little hope of things returning to normal in Camelot.
In the heat of the afternoon, Merlin walked the roads of Scarborough, wondering where he had gone wrong. He had come here in hopes of reuniting Gwen and Arthur, but now, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.
Was it so terrible that Gwen loved Lancelot more than she did Arthur? They certainly seemed happy together, although Gwen still wanted to be able to return to Camelot to visit Elyan and the friends she left behind.
Summer wouldn’t last much longer after the fair ended. When winter came, travel would be more difficult between Camelot and Scarborough. He owed it to Gwen to do his best to make Arthur see that the loss of her heart didn’t mean that he had to lose her friendship forever.
Merlin found himself on the road to the quiet waterfront. A breeze blew off the water and dissipated the heat of the day. A dozen sheep grazed in the heather that bordered the road. They scampered out of Merlin’s way when they saw him approach. Most people had gone to the mead hall for an early supper, Merlin suspected. He licked his lips, thinking of lingonberries.
He passed the docks and followed the winding path to the seashore. He dreaded the return to Camelot, where he would disappoint Arthur again with news of the failed tasks.
Try as he might, Merlin couldn’t forget the morning he had spent in Arthur’s bed. He flushed at the memory of Arthur sucking his cock. Thoughts of his plump lips and his warm mouth sent shivers through Merlin. Merlin had never thought of himself as a bedslave before, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say that he would be first in line to apply for the job if Arthur made such a position available. It would be a thrill to languish in Arthur’s soft bed all day. And in the evening, he would do his best to get his king’s attention. Merlin told himself that he could be very creative if need be.
He glanced behind himself to make sure he wasn’t being followed. When he verified that the road was empty, save for the sheep, he reached into his breeches to adjust himself before continuing his walk.
Soon, he reached the place he had wanted to tell Arthur about when he last visited his chambers. The acre of land he had brought forth from the sea lay barren in the afternoon sun. He strode across the beach, his boots sinking into the sand. Finding a seat on a patch of grass, he hugged his knees and let his tears flow.
He wondered how things had gone so horribly wrong. He only wanted for Gwen to return to Camelot and for Arthur to be his usual prattish self again. But now things had become so much more complicated.
A few of the woolly sheep had wandered down into the grass by the beach. Merlin sobbed as he watched them nibble on the vegetation. He only wanted to be happy again. Yet Arthur’s happiness was Merlin’s reward-the only reward Merlin had ever wished for himself.
Looking out over the empty stretch of land that he had created, an idea struck Merlin. If Gwen wouldn’t reunite with Arthur to become his true love, perhaps there was another true love that Arthur would find suitable? At once he knew he had to try to summon this dreamlike lover from Arthur’s poetic wishes. Maybe he could even be Arthur’s lover. It seemed too much to hope for, and Merlin blushed for thinking of it. Merlin was just a distraction to Arthur. A bedmate who shared one morning of shenanigans in the king’s bed. Merlin had heard of such dalliances happening before in other kingdoms where the king was not as proper as Arthur.
Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if Arthur loved Merlin enough to take him to bed every night? Merlin could think of no other plan that would fulfil the king’s wishes more satisfactorily, than to find him the lover he desired. And for the first time, Merlin hoped it could be him.
Merlin wiped his eyes and tried to remember what Arthur had said to him before he left Camelot.
“Something about ploughing the land with a ram’s horn,” Merlin sniffled.
He watched the sheep that had been grazing on the heather. There were a few rams among them.
Merlin got to his feet and waited for the sheep to wander closer. After checking the horizon to make sure he wasn’t followed, Merlin kept his eyes on a fat white ram with horns that curled back from his head in a spiral.
“That’s it,” Merlin said. “Come closer…”
He held his hand over the grazing animal and, whispering words of magic, he willed the ram to move.
“There you go, old fellow,” Merlin said as he used his magic to guide the ram closer to his patch of land that needed seeding.
Merlin waited until the ram buried a horn into the soft new earth before he dug through his satchel for the spices he had purchased for Gaius. There was cinnamon and ginger, nutmeg and mustardseed, and deep within Merlin’s bag, he found the tiny pouch of black peppercorns.
“Arthur’s poem only required one peppercorn,” Merlin said, remembering.
He took one tiny pebbled seed from the pouch and buried it carefully where the ram had dug the hole.
After his eyes flared gold, Merlin’s arms rested at his side. Even with Merlin’s most powerful magic in use, it would take time for the peppercorn to sprout. As darkness fell, he tucked his jacket under his head as a pillow and settled into his grassy bed beside the sea.
~
Merlin awoke when the first sun’s rays broke over the horizon. From the sea, the gentle waves had rolled into the shore with the tide, and Merlin considered himself lucky that he didn’t get his feet wet while he slept. He knew the activity in the fair would be starting soon, although at this early hour, the centre of the marketplace lay quiet.
He yawned and stretched, barely daring to look across to the land that had risen from the sea. When he caught the first glimpse of his crop, he laughed. Under the influence of his magic, one tiny pepper plant had emerged in the night while he slept.
The green leaves had pushed through the earth and the single plant stood like a tiny tree with dozens of black clustered berries. Merlin grabbed his satchel and ran across the beach to admire his work.
He touched the delicate leaves with cautious fingers. “Perfect,” he said.
Above the waves, a seagull hovered, in search of an easy meal.
Merlin reached into his bag and found the leather bootlaces he had purchased for Gaius. “I’ll give you your sickle of leather,” he said, stretching the leather lacings out between both hands.
He knelt in the dirt and caught the stem of the peppercorn plant with his lace. With one sharp tug, he had separated the plant from its stalk. He didn’t even have to use his magic to do it. Dropping the lace on the ground, Merlin held the plant in the air triumphantly.
Merlin thought Arthur would be surprised if he knew his manservant wasn’t entirely useless when it came to fulfilling such an elaborately detailed task. Sometimes Merlin impressed himself with his wit and his perseverance. He could only hope that someday soon Arthur would notice his skills and understand the lengths he would go to, in order to please his king.
Merlin tucked the plant under one arm and trotted back to where he had bedded down for the night. He grabbed his jacket and the rest of his belongings and carried them to the wall that separated the road from the sea. Dropping his things on the flat stones, he began to pick at the heather that grew along the wall.
The sun rose higher in the sky while Merlin worked.
When he had picked enough heather to form what might be considered a reasonable bunch, he surrounded the peppercorn plant in its embrace. Without delay, Merlin thrashed his bouquet thoroughly on the wall, using his magic to never let one of the peppercorns fall, no matter how they loosened themselves from the assembly of sprigs.
When he finished, Merlin held the corns suspended in mid-air with his magic while he found one of the small linen sacks that had contained the purchases he had made for Gaius. Holding the sack beneath the peppercorns, he scooped the sack upward and swiftly knotted it tight. Not one peppercorn had fallen.
“So far, so good,” Merlin said under his breath. He wiped his brow with a sleeve of his tunic before considering the most difficult part of the task.
“And carry it home on a butterfly’s back,” Merlin said, pondering aloud.
He sat on the edge of the wall and watched the sea. There were no butterflies by the shoreline. And the heather didn’t seem to attract their fluttering presence either.
The sounds of the awakened marketplace drifted from the village centre where the fair had come alive. Merlin wondered what Gwen and Lancelot were doing this morning. He hoped that they weren’t too worried about him when he didn’t bother to say goodbye yesterday. They probably thought he had arrived in Camelot by now.
Merlin huffed out a weary breath. He held his hands over the seaside and tried to summon a butterfly. A few gulls stood in the surf, but no butterfly came.
Merlin stood and faced the fields where the sheep had last been seen. He whispered a spell that might coax a butterfly from hiding. But there was nothing. Only the sound of gentle waves broke the silence of the seashore.
It was futile.
Merlin was disappointed in himself. Even if Merlin summoned a butterfly, no matter how large, he worried that it would never be able to carry him and the peppercorn seeds all the way back to Camelot anyway, whether he used his magic or not.
Merlin sat back down on the wall and dug the toes of his boots into the soft sand.
It was hopeless. Merlin would never win Arthur’s affection, even if he performed these tasks Arthur required of his true love. His morning of work was for nothing. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He may as well just go back to the village, give Gwen the peppercorns and collect his horse from the stables. He wasn’t sure what to tell Arthur when he returned home.
Unless there was some other way he could think of to carry the seeds home on a butterfly’s back.
Merlin suddenly had an idea. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He jumped to his feet, tilted his head back, and called to the skies, “O, Dragon! E male, soi ftengometta tesd hup anakess!”
The shadow of Kilgharrah’s wings soon crossed the beach, shading Merlin where he stood. When the shadow passed, Merlin had to block his eyes from the bright midday sun. He watched as the great dragon landed on the beach, sending up a spray of powdery sand when his feet touched down.
Merlin ran across the beach to greet him.
“Young warlock,” Kilgharrah said, “you requested my services?”
“Kilgharrah, I need your help,” Merlin said.
“What else is new?” Kilgharrah asked. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed by the gulls that had taken flight and circled his head.
“It’s not funny,” Merlin said, the sack with the peppercorns firm in his grasp. “I need you to take me back to Camelot. I need to deliver these peppercorns there.”
“Has Arthur done something to rile you again?” Kilgharrah asked, beating his wings above the sand.
Merlin had to close his eyes to prevent the sand from stinging them.
“No, he’s done nothing,” Merlin said, although Arthur was the person responsible for Merlin’s distress. If only he hadn’t banished Gwen, driven Lancelot off, and taken Merlin to bed, none of this ridiculous Scarborough Fair business would be happening. Merlin just wanted to go home. He didn’t even care if Arthur’s love poem involved him. Although he would miss the way Arthur looked at him when he first kissed him.
“Then, why the rush, young warlock?” Kilgharrah asked.
“You’re no butterfly, but you’ll have to do,” Merlin said, grabbing his jacket and his satchel of goods. “Now, let me climb on your back so we can go.”
“I could take you back to Camelot, young warlock,” Kilgharrah said. “But it appears that Camelot has come to you.”
“What?” Merlin asked.
He turned back toward the road where he saw Gwen and Lancelot heading to the beachfront from the marketplace. Leading the way, King Arthur ran toward Merlin with his sword drawn.
~
Merlin turned and waved his hands at Kilgharrah, trying to shoo him away, but it was too late. The great dragon had already been seen by Merlin’s friends.
Visions of his own death sped through Merlin’s mind. He had dreamed that this day would come someday-when Arthur would find out his secret and sentence him to death for practicing sorcery. He had hoped to avoid the king’s justice for many years, but now it seemed that the ruse was up.
With each footfall in the sand, Arthur got closer to Merlin, and Merlin got closer to death.
Merlin wished that Gwen could run faster. He wanted to have the opportunity to ask her to get word to Hunith that her son died a painless death at the king’s hand, even if it was neither quick nor painless. Tears pricked Merlin’s eyes when he thought of his mother. He may have been such a fool when it came to matters of love, but he always tried to help the ones he loved best. Merlin hoped that Gwen could tell Hunith he was sorry and that he never meant for things to go so horribly wrong.
Merlin couldn’t watch his friends. He hung his head low. He could hear Gwen shouting for him, but he didn’t dare look up from the sand.
And as for Arthur, Merlin’s heart would break if he had to look into those blue eyes that he loved so much. It would be better to feel the slice of cold steel against his neck when Arthur struck his head from his body. It would be best if, in his final moments, Merlin didn’t sense how deeply he had disappointed Arthur, the person he cared for most in the world.
Merlin barely acknowledged the warm rush of air when Arthur’s cloak swept past him. He closed his eyes and prepared to die.
“Get away from him!” Arthur shouted.
At first, Merlin was confused about who him was, and why Merlin had to get away. He blinked back his tears and looked from the sand to where Arthur held Kilgharrah at bay with his sword.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked, grabbing Merlin’s arm with his other hand.
Merlin dumbly stared at Arthur’s hand as it patted his tunic as if he was checking to see if Merlin was hurt. He wondered why Arthur hadn’t yet chopped off his head, when Lancelot joined Arthur and stood on the beach between Merlin and Kilgharrah.
Gwen caught up to the men and grabbed hold of Merlin’s hand. She tugged on him and tried to drag him away from the dragon.
“I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Kilgharrah said with a shake of his head. He began to flap his wings, stirring the beachfront so the sand became a storm of stinging pellets.
Merlin watched as Arthur dropped his sword and spread his cloak wide. He saw Lancelot rush to protect Gwen from the onslaught of flying sand. Merlin could hardly believe it when Arthur pulled him into an embrace and wrapped the cloak around the both of them, shielding them from the spray of sand.
Outside their cocoon, Merlin could hear Kilgharrah’s wings flapping as he took to the air. The heat from Arthur’s proximity made Merlin shudder. His familiar scent and the brush of Arthur’s hair against Merlin’s cheek made Merlin’s heart break.
Losing Arthur’s love would be too much for Merlin to bear.
When the dust settled from Kilgharrah’s departure, Merlin felt Arthur let his cloak drop back onto his shoulders. He took a half-step back and left the shelter of Arthur’s arms. Tears streamed down Merlin’s face. He sobbed, unable to control his sadness at losing Arthur’s love. The sadness was more powerful than the fear of losing his life.
“Merlin, are you hurt?” Gwen asked. She rushed to Merlin and embraced him.
“I don’t think so,” Merlin said, wrapping his arms around Gwen and burying his face in her hair. “I’m fine, except for…”
Merlin turned to look at Arthur. Beside him on the beach, Lancelot stood thumping Arthur on the back, congratulating him for driving Kilgharrah away.
Arthur sheathed his sword and clasped Lancelot’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Arthur said.
Both men were smiling.
“What’s going on here, Gwen?” Merlin asked, wiping his eyes.
“Thanks to you, I think they’ve resolved their differences,” Gwen said confidently.
“Oh, I very much doubt that,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “I think they’ll be fighting over your affection for a long time to come.”
“And I plan to have Gwen’s affection for a long time to come,” Arthur said, returning to Merlin’s side.
“But what about you?” Merlin asked, turning his attention to Lancelot, who had replaced Merlin in Gwen’s embrace.
Gwen stepped forward and took Merlin’s hand. “I couldn’t stay with Arthur in Camelot when I realized how much I loved Lancelot,” she said.
“Gwen and I were never meant for each other,” Arthur said, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Unfortunately, I treated her with something less than understanding when I discovered that truth.”
“I would have stayed with you forever, Arthur,” Gwen said, “but when Lancelot returned to Camelot, I knew my love for you would be a lie that I couldn’t live with.”
Lancelot tightened his arms around Gwen. Merlin was pleased to see that their issues were resolving before his very eyes. Maybe Arthur could find it in himself to allow Gwen back in Camelot one day, after all. He felt a little relief that his wish for her return seemed to be coming true.
“I’m still angry with you for banishing me,” Gwen said, haughtily.
Arthur looked at the ground in front of his feet.
“I was angry at you for all the wrong reasons,” Arthur said. “I was too proud to have people believe that you left me. It was humiliating. If I banished you, I wouldn’t have to face my own truth.”
“You’ve always been a stubborn man,” Gwen said, shaking her head.
“So Gwen loved Lancelot, but she would have stayed with you anyway?” Merlin asked Arthur.
“Until I returned and messed up both of your plans,” Lancelot said, apologetically.
“You didn’t mess up our plans,” Gwen said, batting at his hand. “I couldn’t resist my feelings for you, any more than Arthur could have chosen me over Merlin.”
Merlin’s mouth fell open. “Oh, no,” he said. “Arthur didn’t choose me of his own free will. It was the tasks.” Merlin ducked out of Arthur’s embrace, his boots kicking up the loose sand.
“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked, wrinkling his nose.
“It was the tasks I completed for Gwen so you would take her back,” Merlin said, stumbling backwards. “I used my magic to make the shirt and to find the land. And the peppercorns are right there in that sack waiting for me to bring them to Camelot on a butterfly’s back.”
“Magic?” Arthur asked.
“Ummm… I think there’s something you should know about,” Merlin said.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin.
“Not to rub it in, Sire,” Lancelot said. “But we already knew about it and we still love Merlin. He’s still our friend.”
Arthur took a step toward Merlin.
“You can’t hurt him, Arthur,” Gwen said. “You love him.”
Arthur’s hands went to his hips.
Merlin truly thought Arthur would draw his sword at any moment. At least he could die happy, knowing that he finally confessed about his magic to Arthur after all these years of lies.
“It wasn’t real love,” Merlin cried. “It was the magic.”
Arthur reached forward and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders.
“You complete and utter idiot,” Arthur shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, his voice a whisper.
“I sent you to ask Gwen to perform the tasks that I did, because I knew she couldn’t complete them,” Arthur said.
Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath on his face, their lips inches apart.
“But why would you have done something like that?” Merlin asked.
Arthur’s jaw dropped and his head swayed from side to side, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Because I love you, you fool,” Arthur said. “I’ve always loved you. I just never dared to show it before now.”
“Oh,” Merlin said, his shoulders sagging with relief. He could hardly believe that everything he had worked for was for naught. A smile broke out on his face.
“Just wait until we get back to Camelot,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin into an embrace. “I’m going to arm Gwen and Lancelot with the biggest supply of spoiled fruit in the five kingdoms.”
“After all this, you’re sending me to the stocks?” Merlin asked. He nuzzled Arthur’s neck and dared to leave a kiss on the hot skin.
“How else can I make you stop trying to reunite Gwen and I?” Arthur asked, tilting his head to look at Merlin.
Merlin could hardly believe his ears. After all he had done to reunite his friends, it turned out that he really had to do nothing at all, except to look into his own heart. Arthur loved him.
“I suppose you have a point,” Merlin said. “But wait, does that mean that Gwen can move back to Camelot?”
“Only if she’s sure that she can put up with you,” Arthur said.
Merlin could hear Gwen and Lancelot’s laughter when Arthur took Merlin into his arms and kissed him breathless. He was only a little worried about having to explain to Arthur about the dragon. But the Scarborough Fair was far from over and they still had a long ride back to Camelot.
The end
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
A/N: Scarborough Fair was written for the After Camlann Big Bang and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt. Thanks to my talented artist rishimakapur, my cheerleader gilli_ann, my proofreader gibbous_moon, and my wonderful beta lawgoddess.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
Tell her to gather it all in a sack,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
And carry it home on a butterfly’s back,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Merlin was greeted by the last person he expected to see in Scarborough.
“You remember Lancelot, of course,” Gwen said. Her cheeks blushed prettily when she took Lancelot’s arm and led him to Merlin.
“Of course,” Merlin said. He stepped forward to greet Lancelot, holding out his hand. He smiled when, instead of bracing his hand to Merlin’s forearm, Lancelot pulled Merlin into a hug.
“I’ve missed you so much, my friend,” Lancelot said.
Merlin could hear the sincerity in Lancelot’s voice.
With the tension broken, Merlin sighed with relief that the three of them were still friends. Whatever had transpired between Arthur, Gwen, and Lancelot, had been put aside in the weeks that had passed.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Merlin said, holding Lancelot tight. He was sorry to see that Lancelot had exchanged the crimson cloak of Camelot’s knights for the rich blue wool of Caerleon’s guards. A soft fur trim decorated its hem. Lancelot looked striking in it and Merlin could understand why Gwen only had eyes for him.
“I understand you’re trying to get Arthur to allow Gwen back to Camelot,” Lancelot said when he stepped back from Merlin’s embrace.
“I am,” Merlin said. “I’m working on it, at least. You know how stubborn Arthur can be.”
“Not stubborn,” Lancelot said. “He’s decisive and committed. It’s one of the things that make him a great king.”
Merlin nodded. He hadn’t expected Lancelot to be so gracious in his views about Arthur.
“I would have liked to serve him for much longer than I was allowed, but alas,” Lancelot said, his eyes meeting Gwen’s, “it was not possible.”
A heavy silence hung between them. If not for the shouts of vendors, the bargaining shoppers, and the sound of coins being dropped into pouches, Merlin feared that he would blurt out what a fool Arthur had been to drive his best knight away. Instead, he remembered the morning spent in Arthur’s bed. His prick still twitched every time he thought about Arthur’s ministrations.
“Perhaps he’ll come to his senses,” Merlin said.
“I hope so,” Gwen said. “I’d like to be able to return to Camelot to visit my brother. It seems unfair that Elyan should suffer because of something I’ve done.”
“Yes, Gwen tells me that you used some of your special talents to make a shirt of some sort,” Lancelot said. “Do you know if your efforts have brought Arthur any closer to letting Gwen return? She has many friends in Camelot that she’d like to visit after the fair.”
“I’m not really sure what he’s thinking,” Merlin said. It seemed so strange to be speaking to two people who knew about his magic. Merlin felt lighter, as if a dark cloud that had followed him from Ealdor to Camelot had suddenly been lifted. Gwen and Lancelot would always be his dearest friends. Their joy at being reunited overwhelmed Merlin. He wished that he could share in their happiness, but he had Arthur to think about.
“Well, we know you’re doing your best to help,” Lancelot said, clapping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.
“You always do your best where Arthur is concerned,” Gwen said, smiling brightly. “Now, where are your herbs? I have a pouch filled with coins for the things in your stall that have sold since yesterday.”
Merlin couldn’t believe that it was only yesterday that he had been in Scarborough, trying to complete the tasks that would allow Gwen to return to Camelot. In his haste to return and fulfil Arthur’s wishes, he had neglected to check with Gaius to see if he had any more herbs for him to deliver.
“Herbs?” Merlin asked.
“Yes, and we’ll need more of the poultices too,” Gwen said. She stooped to reach beneath the table in her stall where the absent vendors’ earnings were kept. “It was very clever to make up the dry poultices in advance.”
“It was Gaius’s idea,” Merlin said, not wanting to take credit for the idea that would keep Gaius from having to ride from village to village whenever someone strained their back or suffered from sweating sickness.
“Yes, Gwen was telling me that people could simply purchase them ahead of time and soak them in hot water when they needed a poultice remedy at home. It’s truly ingenious,” Lancelot said.
“I’m glad they’re selling so well,” Merlin said. “In fact, I need to get back to Camelot right away to make more of them for our stall.”
“You can’t leave already,” Gwen said, handing over a pouch of coins. “Lancelot has just come from Caerleon. Won’t you stay the night?”
“I can’t,” Merlin said. “I should get back to Camelot to get more herbs.”
“Please,” Lancelot said. “Gwen tells me there’s a feast every night in the mead hall. I bet they have those lingonberry tarts that you love so much! And there are so many things to see at the fair. I’ve been in Scarborough since early this morning and I still haven’t seen all the wares offered for sale.”
“If you’ll stay the night, I can find you a bed at Lord Simeon’s castle,” Gwen said. “He has most of his men watching over the fairgrounds in the evening, so he has plenty of empty rooms for weary travellers.”
A soft bed sounded good to Merlin. He had ridden back and forth from Camelot twice these past days and his arse was sore. But he couldn’t stay here and convince himself that he wanted Arthur to welcome Gwen back to his home and his heart.
“I’d love to,” Merlin said, “but I really must get back to Camelot.”
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Gwen said, pulling him into an embrace. “Try to enjoy the fair while you’re here. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
~
Merlin took Gwen’s advice and wandered the fairgrounds. He felt bad that Gaius was too old and frail to make the journey to Scarborough, where he could enjoy the fair. After travelling the distance himself twice in as many days, Merlin’s back felt like that of an old man. It felt good to walk around and admire the talents of the craftspeople from different kingdoms.
He visited the stalls and used a few coins to purchase a collection of spices that Gaius would enjoy using when he cooked, more linen to make poultices, and some leather lacings that Gaius could use to replace the ones that were old and worn and barely kept the old man’s boots tight. At least this trip to Scarborough wouldn’t be wasted, even if he couldn’t bear to tell Gwen that Arthur had yet more demands to make of her. And even if Gwen performed the new tasks, Merlin now had little hope of things returning to normal in Camelot.
In the heat of the afternoon, Merlin walked the roads of Scarborough, wondering where he had gone wrong. He had come here in hopes of reuniting Gwen and Arthur, but now, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.
Was it so terrible that Gwen loved Lancelot more than she did Arthur? They certainly seemed happy together, although Gwen still wanted to be able to return to Camelot to visit Elyan and the friends she left behind.
Summer wouldn’t last much longer after the fair ended. When winter came, travel would be more difficult between Camelot and Scarborough. He owed it to Gwen to do his best to make Arthur see that the loss of her heart didn’t mean that he had to lose her friendship forever.
Merlin found himself on the road to the quiet waterfront. A breeze blew off the water and dissipated the heat of the day. A dozen sheep grazed in the heather that bordered the road. They scampered out of Merlin’s way when they saw him approach. Most people had gone to the mead hall for an early supper, Merlin suspected. He licked his lips, thinking of lingonberries.
He passed the docks and followed the winding path to the seashore. He dreaded the return to Camelot, where he would disappoint Arthur again with news of the failed tasks.
Try as he might, Merlin couldn’t forget the morning he had spent in Arthur’s bed. He flushed at the memory of Arthur sucking his cock. Thoughts of his plump lips and his warm mouth sent shivers through Merlin. Merlin had never thought of himself as a bedslave before, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say that he would be first in line to apply for the job if Arthur made such a position available. It would be a thrill to languish in Arthur’s soft bed all day. And in the evening, he would do his best to get his king’s attention. Merlin told himself that he could be very creative if need be.
He glanced behind himself to make sure he wasn’t being followed. When he verified that the road was empty, save for the sheep, he reached into his breeches to adjust himself before continuing his walk.
Soon, he reached the place he had wanted to tell Arthur about when he last visited his chambers. The acre of land he had brought forth from the sea lay barren in the afternoon sun. He strode across the beach, his boots sinking into the sand. Finding a seat on a patch of grass, he hugged his knees and let his tears flow.
He wondered how things had gone so horribly wrong. He only wanted for Gwen to return to Camelot and for Arthur to be his usual prattish self again. But now things had become so much more complicated.
A few of the woolly sheep had wandered down into the grass by the beach. Merlin sobbed as he watched them nibble on the vegetation. He only wanted to be happy again. Yet Arthur’s happiness was Merlin’s reward-the only reward Merlin had ever wished for himself.
Looking out over the empty stretch of land that he had created, an idea struck Merlin. If Gwen wouldn’t reunite with Arthur to become his true love, perhaps there was another true love that Arthur would find suitable? At once he knew he had to try to summon this dreamlike lover from Arthur’s poetic wishes. Maybe he could even be Arthur’s lover. It seemed too much to hope for, and Merlin blushed for thinking of it. Merlin was just a distraction to Arthur. A bedmate who shared one morning of shenanigans in the king’s bed. Merlin had heard of such dalliances happening before in other kingdoms where the king was not as proper as Arthur.
Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if Arthur loved Merlin enough to take him to bed every night? Merlin could think of no other plan that would fulfil the king’s wishes more satisfactorily, than to find him the lover he desired. And for the first time, Merlin hoped it could be him.
Merlin wiped his eyes and tried to remember what Arthur had said to him before he left Camelot.
“Something about ploughing the land with a ram’s horn,” Merlin sniffled.
He watched the sheep that had been grazing on the heather. There were a few rams among them.
Merlin got to his feet and waited for the sheep to wander closer. After checking the horizon to make sure he wasn’t followed, Merlin kept his eyes on a fat white ram with horns that curled back from his head in a spiral.
“That’s it,” Merlin said. “Come closer…”
He held his hand over the grazing animal and, whispering words of magic, he willed the ram to move.
“There you go, old fellow,” Merlin said as he used his magic to guide the ram closer to his patch of land that needed seeding.
Merlin waited until the ram buried a horn into the soft new earth before he dug through his satchel for the spices he had purchased for Gaius. There was cinnamon and ginger, nutmeg and mustardseed, and deep within Merlin’s bag, he found the tiny pouch of black peppercorns.
“Arthur’s poem only required one peppercorn,” Merlin said, remembering.
He took one tiny pebbled seed from the pouch and buried it carefully where the ram had dug the hole.
After his eyes flared gold, Merlin’s arms rested at his side. Even with Merlin’s most powerful magic in use, it would take time for the peppercorn to sprout. As darkness fell, he tucked his jacket under his head as a pillow and settled into his grassy bed beside the sea.
~
Merlin awoke when the first sun’s rays broke over the horizon. From the sea, the gentle waves had rolled into the shore with the tide, and Merlin considered himself lucky that he didn’t get his feet wet while he slept. He knew the activity in the fair would be starting soon, although at this early hour, the centre of the marketplace lay quiet.
He yawned and stretched, barely daring to look across to the land that had risen from the sea. When he caught the first glimpse of his crop, he laughed. Under the influence of his magic, one tiny pepper plant had emerged in the night while he slept.
The green leaves had pushed through the earth and the single plant stood like a tiny tree with dozens of black clustered berries. Merlin grabbed his satchel and ran across the beach to admire his work.
He touched the delicate leaves with cautious fingers. “Perfect,” he said.
Above the waves, a seagull hovered, in search of an easy meal.
Merlin reached into his bag and found the leather bootlaces he had purchased for Gaius. “I’ll give you your sickle of leather,” he said, stretching the leather lacings out between both hands.
He knelt in the dirt and caught the stem of the peppercorn plant with his lace. With one sharp tug, he had separated the plant from its stalk. He didn’t even have to use his magic to do it. Dropping the lace on the ground, Merlin held the plant in the air triumphantly.
Merlin thought Arthur would be surprised if he knew his manservant wasn’t entirely useless when it came to fulfilling such an elaborately detailed task. Sometimes Merlin impressed himself with his wit and his perseverance. He could only hope that someday soon Arthur would notice his skills and understand the lengths he would go to, in order to please his king.
Merlin tucked the plant under one arm and trotted back to where he had bedded down for the night. He grabbed his jacket and the rest of his belongings and carried them to the wall that separated the road from the sea. Dropping his things on the flat stones, he began to pick at the heather that grew along the wall.
The sun rose higher in the sky while Merlin worked.
When he had picked enough heather to form what might be considered a reasonable bunch, he surrounded the peppercorn plant in its embrace. Without delay, Merlin thrashed his bouquet thoroughly on the wall, using his magic to never let one of the peppercorns fall, no matter how they loosened themselves from the assembly of sprigs.
When he finished, Merlin held the corns suspended in mid-air with his magic while he found one of the small linen sacks that had contained the purchases he had made for Gaius. Holding the sack beneath the peppercorns, he scooped the sack upward and swiftly knotted it tight. Not one peppercorn had fallen.
“So far, so good,” Merlin said under his breath. He wiped his brow with a sleeve of his tunic before considering the most difficult part of the task.
“And carry it home on a butterfly’s back,” Merlin said, pondering aloud.
He sat on the edge of the wall and watched the sea. There were no butterflies by the shoreline. And the heather didn’t seem to attract their fluttering presence either.
The sounds of the awakened marketplace drifted from the village centre where the fair had come alive. Merlin wondered what Gwen and Lancelot were doing this morning. He hoped that they weren’t too worried about him when he didn’t bother to say goodbye yesterday. They probably thought he had arrived in Camelot by now.
Merlin huffed out a weary breath. He held his hands over the seaside and tried to summon a butterfly. A few gulls stood in the surf, but no butterfly came.
Merlin stood and faced the fields where the sheep had last been seen. He whispered a spell that might coax a butterfly from hiding. But there was nothing. Only the sound of gentle waves broke the silence of the seashore.
It was futile.
Merlin was disappointed in himself. Even if Merlin summoned a butterfly, no matter how large, he worried that it would never be able to carry him and the peppercorn seeds all the way back to Camelot anyway, whether he used his magic or not.
Merlin sat back down on the wall and dug the toes of his boots into the soft sand.
It was hopeless. Merlin would never win Arthur’s affection, even if he performed these tasks Arthur required of his true love. His morning of work was for nothing. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He may as well just go back to the village, give Gwen the peppercorns and collect his horse from the stables. He wasn’t sure what to tell Arthur when he returned home.
Unless there was some other way he could think of to carry the seeds home on a butterfly’s back.
Merlin suddenly had an idea. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He jumped to his feet, tilted his head back, and called to the skies, “O, Dragon! E male, soi ftengometta tesd hup anakess!”
The shadow of Kilgharrah’s wings soon crossed the beach, shading Merlin where he stood. When the shadow passed, Merlin had to block his eyes from the bright midday sun. He watched as the great dragon landed on the beach, sending up a spray of powdery sand when his feet touched down.
Merlin ran across the beach to greet him.
“Young warlock,” Kilgharrah said, “you requested my services?”
“Kilgharrah, I need your help,” Merlin said.
“What else is new?” Kilgharrah asked. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed by the gulls that had taken flight and circled his head.
“It’s not funny,” Merlin said, the sack with the peppercorns firm in his grasp. “I need you to take me back to Camelot. I need to deliver these peppercorns there.”
“Has Arthur done something to rile you again?” Kilgharrah asked, beating his wings above the sand.
Merlin had to close his eyes to prevent the sand from stinging them.
“No, he’s done nothing,” Merlin said, although Arthur was the person responsible for Merlin’s distress. If only he hadn’t banished Gwen, driven Lancelot off, and taken Merlin to bed, none of this ridiculous Scarborough Fair business would be happening. Merlin just wanted to go home. He didn’t even care if Arthur’s love poem involved him. Although he would miss the way Arthur looked at him when he first kissed him.
“Then, why the rush, young warlock?” Kilgharrah asked.
“You’re no butterfly, but you’ll have to do,” Merlin said, grabbing his jacket and his satchel of goods. “Now, let me climb on your back so we can go.”
“I could take you back to Camelot, young warlock,” Kilgharrah said. “But it appears that Camelot has come to you.”
“What?” Merlin asked.
He turned back toward the road where he saw Gwen and Lancelot heading to the beachfront from the marketplace. Leading the way, King Arthur ran toward Merlin with his sword drawn.
~
Merlin turned and waved his hands at Kilgharrah, trying to shoo him away, but it was too late. The great dragon had already been seen by Merlin’s friends.
Visions of his own death sped through Merlin’s mind. He had dreamed that this day would come someday-when Arthur would find out his secret and sentence him to death for practicing sorcery. He had hoped to avoid the king’s justice for many years, but now it seemed that the ruse was up.
With each footfall in the sand, Arthur got closer to Merlin, and Merlin got closer to death.
Merlin wished that Gwen could run faster. He wanted to have the opportunity to ask her to get word to Hunith that her son died a painless death at the king’s hand, even if it was neither quick nor painless. Tears pricked Merlin’s eyes when he thought of his mother. He may have been such a fool when it came to matters of love, but he always tried to help the ones he loved best. Merlin hoped that Gwen could tell Hunith he was sorry and that he never meant for things to go so horribly wrong.
Merlin couldn’t watch his friends. He hung his head low. He could hear Gwen shouting for him, but he didn’t dare look up from the sand.
And as for Arthur, Merlin’s heart would break if he had to look into those blue eyes that he loved so much. It would be better to feel the slice of cold steel against his neck when Arthur struck his head from his body. It would be best if, in his final moments, Merlin didn’t sense how deeply he had disappointed Arthur, the person he cared for most in the world.
Merlin barely acknowledged the warm rush of air when Arthur’s cloak swept past him. He closed his eyes and prepared to die.
“Get away from him!” Arthur shouted.
At first, Merlin was confused about who him was, and why Merlin had to get away. He blinked back his tears and looked from the sand to where Arthur held Kilgharrah at bay with his sword.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked, grabbing Merlin’s arm with his other hand.
Merlin dumbly stared at Arthur’s hand as it patted his tunic as if he was checking to see if Merlin was hurt. He wondered why Arthur hadn’t yet chopped off his head, when Lancelot joined Arthur and stood on the beach between Merlin and Kilgharrah.
Gwen caught up to the men and grabbed hold of Merlin’s hand. She tugged on him and tried to drag him away from the dragon.
“I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Kilgharrah said with a shake of his head. He began to flap his wings, stirring the beachfront so the sand became a storm of stinging pellets.
Merlin watched as Arthur dropped his sword and spread his cloak wide. He saw Lancelot rush to protect Gwen from the onslaught of flying sand. Merlin could hardly believe it when Arthur pulled him into an embrace and wrapped the cloak around the both of them, shielding them from the spray of sand.
Outside their cocoon, Merlin could hear Kilgharrah’s wings flapping as he took to the air. The heat from Arthur’s proximity made Merlin shudder. His familiar scent and the brush of Arthur’s hair against Merlin’s cheek made Merlin’s heart break.
Losing Arthur’s love would be too much for Merlin to bear.
When the dust settled from Kilgharrah’s departure, Merlin felt Arthur let his cloak drop back onto his shoulders. He took a half-step back and left the shelter of Arthur’s arms. Tears streamed down Merlin’s face. He sobbed, unable to control his sadness at losing Arthur’s love. The sadness was more powerful than the fear of losing his life.
“Merlin, are you hurt?” Gwen asked. She rushed to Merlin and embraced him.
“I don’t think so,” Merlin said, wrapping his arms around Gwen and burying his face in her hair. “I’m fine, except for…”
Merlin turned to look at Arthur. Beside him on the beach, Lancelot stood thumping Arthur on the back, congratulating him for driving Kilgharrah away.
Arthur sheathed his sword and clasped Lancelot’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Arthur said.
Both men were smiling.
“What’s going on here, Gwen?” Merlin asked, wiping his eyes.
“Thanks to you, I think they’ve resolved their differences,” Gwen said confidently.
“Oh, I very much doubt that,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “I think they’ll be fighting over your affection for a long time to come.”
“And I plan to have Gwen’s affection for a long time to come,” Arthur said, returning to Merlin’s side.
“But what about you?” Merlin asked, turning his attention to Lancelot, who had replaced Merlin in Gwen’s embrace.
Gwen stepped forward and took Merlin’s hand. “I couldn’t stay with Arthur in Camelot when I realized how much I loved Lancelot,” she said.
“Gwen and I were never meant for each other,” Arthur said, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Unfortunately, I treated her with something less than understanding when I discovered that truth.”
“I would have stayed with you forever, Arthur,” Gwen said, “but when Lancelot returned to Camelot, I knew my love for you would be a lie that I couldn’t live with.”
Lancelot tightened his arms around Gwen. Merlin was pleased to see that their issues were resolving before his very eyes. Maybe Arthur could find it in himself to allow Gwen back in Camelot one day, after all. He felt a little relief that his wish for her return seemed to be coming true.
“I’m still angry with you for banishing me,” Gwen said, haughtily.
Arthur looked at the ground in front of his feet.
“I was angry at you for all the wrong reasons,” Arthur said. “I was too proud to have people believe that you left me. It was humiliating. If I banished you, I wouldn’t have to face my own truth.”
“You’ve always been a stubborn man,” Gwen said, shaking her head.
“So Gwen loved Lancelot, but she would have stayed with you anyway?” Merlin asked Arthur.
“Until I returned and messed up both of your plans,” Lancelot said, apologetically.
“You didn’t mess up our plans,” Gwen said, batting at his hand. “I couldn’t resist my feelings for you, any more than Arthur could have chosen me over Merlin.”
Merlin’s mouth fell open. “Oh, no,” he said. “Arthur didn’t choose me of his own free will. It was the tasks.” Merlin ducked out of Arthur’s embrace, his boots kicking up the loose sand.
“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked, wrinkling his nose.
“It was the tasks I completed for Gwen so you would take her back,” Merlin said, stumbling backwards. “I used my magic to make the shirt and to find the land. And the peppercorns are right there in that sack waiting for me to bring them to Camelot on a butterfly’s back.”
“Magic?” Arthur asked.
“Ummm… I think there’s something you should know about,” Merlin said.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin.
“Not to rub it in, Sire,” Lancelot said. “But we already knew about it and we still love Merlin. He’s still our friend.”
Arthur took a step toward Merlin.
“You can’t hurt him, Arthur,” Gwen said. “You love him.”
Arthur’s hands went to his hips.
Merlin truly thought Arthur would draw his sword at any moment. At least he could die happy, knowing that he finally confessed about his magic to Arthur after all these years of lies.
“It wasn’t real love,” Merlin cried. “It was the magic.”
Arthur reached forward and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders.
“You complete and utter idiot,” Arthur shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, his voice a whisper.
“I sent you to ask Gwen to perform the tasks that I did, because I knew she couldn’t complete them,” Arthur said.
Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath on his face, their lips inches apart.
“But why would you have done something like that?” Merlin asked.
Arthur’s jaw dropped and his head swayed from side to side, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Because I love you, you fool,” Arthur said. “I’ve always loved you. I just never dared to show it before now.”
“Oh,” Merlin said, his shoulders sagging with relief. He could hardly believe that everything he had worked for was for naught. A smile broke out on his face.
“Just wait until we get back to Camelot,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin into an embrace. “I’m going to arm Gwen and Lancelot with the biggest supply of spoiled fruit in the five kingdoms.”
“After all this, you’re sending me to the stocks?” Merlin asked. He nuzzled Arthur’s neck and dared to leave a kiss on the hot skin.
“How else can I make you stop trying to reunite Gwen and I?” Arthur asked, tilting his head to look at Merlin.
Merlin could hardly believe his ears. After all he had done to reunite his friends, it turned out that he really had to do nothing at all, except to look into his own heart. Arthur loved him.
“I suppose you have a point,” Merlin said. “But wait, does that mean that Gwen can move back to Camelot?”
“Only if she’s sure that she can put up with you,” Arthur said.
Merlin could hear Gwen and Lancelot’s laughter when Arthur took Merlin into his arms and kissed him breathless. He was only a little worried about having to explain to Arthur about the dragon. But the Scarborough Fair was far from over and they still had a long ride back to Camelot.
The end