As the World Comes to an End, Chapter Four
As the World Comes to an End
Author: JALover7 (alanna_the_lionheart)
Rating: M
Spoilers: series finale, 5.13
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, future-fic, reincarnation, post-apocalypse (sort of)
Summary: Sequel to “Full of Grace.” Arthur comes back from Avalon to find that he has been gone for nearly two thousand years. In a world torn apart by war, life has become simple again, yet Arthur finds himself homesick for a time that no longer exists. As Merlin and Arthur help each other cope, an ancient power rises in the Earth, threatening to destroy not only their new found happiness, but the world itself. Work in progress.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin.
As the World Comes to an End
Chapter Four: The Kindness of Strangers
On the way back to the cottage, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in the caves. Starting with the fact that-
“You were friends with the dragon?”
“Yes, Arthur, but that’s not important.”
Then he tells him everything that Kilgharrah said about where the creature comes from and what it is.
“This…thing. Does it have a name?” Arthur inquires thoughtfully.
Merlin shakes his head. “No one was around last time to give it one. I guess we'll have to. A creature that's pure evil. I guess...if I was going to call it anything.….” Merlin stops walking and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes glow gold. “Malus.”
The word comes out in Merlin’s voice, but the tone is all wrong. Without warning, the ground trembles under their feet. It quakes briefly, but deeply, and Arthur feels it in his bones. He shudders as his blood runs cold and the birds in the trees take off.
“Merlin, what on Earth-”
“It likes it. It likes Its new name.”
The sky grows dark as clouds scurry across it to hide the sun faster than Arthur can believe. The animals of the forest take off in all directions.
Merlin’s eyes still glow gold, and though he’s talking in his own voice, Arthur senses that he is not speaking the words of his own free will. He speaks slowly and distantly, like he’s in a trance.
“Merlin, what’s happening?” Arthur asks, and he can’t hide the fear in his voice.
“It likes having a name. It makes It feel powerful.”
Thunder rumbles in the sky, and the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stands up.
“Merlin, you’re scaring me. Snap out of it.”
Arthur wants to move toward Merlin, but it feels like his feet are glued to the ground.
“It can smell your fear, Arthur Pendragon.”
Rain starts to fall, and Arthur shivers.
“Merlin, please,” Arthur begs.
“It’s going to tear the world apart. And there is nothing you can do to stop It.”
Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from where they stand, and Arthur feels like he can move again.
“Merlin, stop it!” He crosses the space between them and puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “Stop it, now!"
Perhaps it's the commanding tone that does the trick. Merlin looks at him, unblinking, but then the rain ends, and the thunder stops rumbling. The darkness slips from the sky and the clouds move away and the sun shines once more.
Merlin’s eyes return to their normal blue.
“Arthur…why are we all wet?”
Arthur feels his legs give out from under him, and he hits the ground, dragging Merlin down with him.
“Arthur? Arthur, what’s going on?”
Arthur’s shaking violently now. He thought he was terrified this morning, but this? This is something entirely worse.
“Arthur…tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin says with concern, and he puts his hands on either side of Arthur’s face and forces him to look up.
Possessed. There’s no other word for it. Merlin was talking, and it was his voice, but the words weren’t his. This evil thing used Merlin to speak Its words like it was nothing. Like Merlin was Its puppet.
He focuses on Merlin’s hands, which are rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders. When he can speak again, his voice shakes.
“‘Malus.’ You called It ‘Malus.’ And It liked it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Merlin explains on the walk back that it didn’t really feel like he was being possessed, which in Arthur’s opinion just makes everything worse, because does Merlin actually know what it’s like to be possessed, and isn’t the first sign of possession that you don’t know it’s happening? Arthur can't even believe they're talking about possession right now.
And then Merlin answers that yes, he has been possessed before. And he’s known it. He’s snapped out of it and remembered what happened.
“This was nothing like that. It didn’t possess me, Arthur. I promise.”
“Fine, It didn’t possess you. But that still doesn’t explain why the ground shook and the sky went dark and lightning struck a tree!”
“Arthur....”
In the end, Merlin apologizes, as though it’s his fault, and Arthur tells him it’s okay.
It’s the first time Arthur’s lied to Merlin since returning four days ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, over a dinner of squirrel and berries, Merlin explains where they have to go.
“Kilgharrah mentioned a seer - a prophetess - that we need to find. She’s the last of her kind. She doesn’t have magic, not the way I do. But she can see the future. And she’ll know how we can communicate with…Malus.”
Merlin says the name quickly, and they flinch in unison, prepared for the worst. But the ground stays still, and they both let out a sigh, grateful that they now have a way of referring to the creature that doesn’t put Merlin in a trance or send the forest animals running for the hills.
“Where can we find this seer?”
“She lives in a small forest community near the lake of Windermere. It should take us about a week to get there. Kilgharrah gave me detailed directions. I should be able to find it.”
Arthur sighs. Two thousand years and nothing’s changed: he and Merlin are off on another quest.
“So, we leave in the morning?” he asks.
“Arthur….” Merlin trails off, and he sounds so distressed that Arthur frowns. He stands, walks toward Merlin, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Merlin reaches up and places his own hand over Arthur’s gratefully.
“You just got back,” Merlin whispers, and Arthur sighs. He moves behind Merlin and grasps his shoulders, messaging them gently. Then he bends down and places a gentle kiss on top of his head.
“I know. But do you remember what you told me last night? We have all the time in the world.”
“Arthur-”
“We’ll fight this evil, Merlin. We’ll fight it together, like we always do. And we’ll win.”
Merlin smiles. “That’s my job, you know. Making sappy speeches.”
Arthur laughs. “Well, I did learn from the best.”
And Merlin laughs, too.
After a moment’s silence, Arthur kneels down next to him.
“It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
Arthur wants desperately to believe it, but then he’s never really been good at keeping faith; that was always Merlin's job.
He kisses Merlin slowly, tenderly, and Merlin leans into it. Eventually, soft caresses give way to needy touches, and Arthur leads them to the bed.
That night, he asks Merlin to make love to him, and while it hurts at first, in the end it’s worth it because he feels needed and loved and closer to Merlin than he’s ever felt to anyone.
As they lie in bed that night, warm and blissful, Arthur wants to tell Merlin the truth.
He wants to tell him that he’s terrified.
Malus used Merlin’s magic to claw Its way out of the Earth; used it listen to them and talk to them. Malus used Merlin’s magic for Its own. It found a way to get to Merlin through his magic.
Arthur’s not terrified of Malus (though It most certainly does scare him). He’s not terrified by the display of Merlin’s magic (though he shivers at the memory of how powerful it was). He’s not scared that Merlin’s magic might hurt him; he’s not scared for himself at all.
What terrifies Arthur more than anything is the thought that he could lose Merlin to his own magic.
He’s going to tell him. He has to.
“Merlin?”
But then Merlin looks at him with those eyes - those bright, trusting, obnoxiously beautiful blue eyes - and damnit he can’t do it, because Merlin needs him, and for the first time in his miserable life Arthur’s going to be there for him.
So when Merlin asks what’s wrong, Arthur tells him to move over a bit because his leg’s falling asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sleep in the next morning. Arthur wakes at dawn, wanting to get an early start. But then Merlin whines and begins to place gentle kisses on his neck, sucking lightly on the spot that he knows will drive Arthur crazy. Arthur moans, then slowly rolls them until he’s hovering over Merlin.
“Okay. Maybe just five more minutes.”
Three hours later, Merlin and Arthur pack up what little food the have left with the clothes they’ve collected. Merlin explains that, since money is useless now, clothes are a good item to have in a world where people trade with others for what they need. Their extra clothes may buy them vegetables or bread from a farmer in need of a good jacket or a pair of strong shoes. He even suggests they raid the village they slept in on their way to Camelot for more.
Merlin digs a small leather cord out of a drawer and ties Ygraine's sigil on to it, then hangs it around his neck. The dragon stays in Camelot as usual and, for the first time in millennia, he leaves the drawing of Arthur behind, too.
As he unfolds it and pins it gingerly to the wall over the bed, he explains to Arthur, “I love this old drawing, but it kind of pales in comparison to the real thing.”
The comment earns him a smile and a gentle kiss from Arthur.
Arthur himself takes the book of Dr Seuss stories. Merlin questions it at first, but Arthur is adamant about it coming with them, so in the end Merlin strengthens the spell that keeps it from getting ruined and lets Arthur pack it in his bag.
Lastly, the two of them gather up Arthur’s armor, and Arthur straps Excalibur onto his belt.
“There’s just one thing we need to do before we go,” Arthur says quietly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later, Arthur’s armor and chainmail lie at the base of the tree in the throne room of Camelot. The two of them place the pieces down reverently, arranging them neatly, as though any moment Arthur will need to put them on.
“There,” Arthur says, smiling fondly. “Now they’re right where they belong.”
“Home,” Merlin finishes for him, and Arthur nods.
“Home.”
They stand quietly for a moment, gazing at the sight of Arthur’s armor and cloak decorating the great tree. But there’s one piece left.
“Arthur…what about the sword?”
Arthur glances down at the golden sword he now holds in his hand, not even sure when he took it out of his belt.
“Yes. About the sword….”
“Yes?” Merlin prompts hesitantly. The tone of Arthur’s voice suggests he wants answers, but that he’s almost too afraid to ask the questions.
“Was this sword really stuck in that stone, Merlin?”
“Well….”
“And you told Morgana that it was forged in a dragon’s breath.”
“Well…the thing is….”
Merlin hesitates, not sure what to say. But then Arthur turns to him, eyes questioning, and it all comes spilling out.
“First of all, the sword’s name is Excalibur.”
And then Merlin tells Arthur everything. How Excalibur was meant for Arthur and no one else. How he took the best sword that Gwen’s father had and asked Kilgharah to enchant it. How he had to throw it in the lake to keep it from Uther. How he used it to defeat Morgana's undead army, then placed it in the stone so it would be ready when Arthur needed it. He finishes up with how he threw it in the Lake of Avalon after Arthur's death so that no one else would be able to use it.
When he’s done, Arthur looks down at the weapon in his hand and laughs. “I always knew there was something special about this sword. Well, beyond the fact that I had to pull it out of a stone, at any rate.”
Merlin smiles. “That sword’s been through a lot, Arthur. It has quite a history.”
“Yes, it does. Thanks to you.”
Merlin shakes his head. “It’s your sword, Arthur. It always has been. I’ve just…borrowed it a few times.”
“Merlin…it’s thanks to you that I even have this sword. It’s thanks to you that I lived long enough to use it; to appreciate it for what it really is. It’s not just my sword, Merlin. In a way…it’s ours.”
Merlin laughs. “Whatever you say, sire,” he says jokingly.
“I mean it, Merlin," Arthur responds in all seriousness. "This sword is…it’s like a part of us. Your magic, my courage. It’s a symbol. It means….” Arthur pauses, at a loss, but then, finally, Merlin thinks he knows what Arthur is getting at.
“We fight together. We always have, Arthur, even if you didn’t know it-”
“And we always will,” Arthur finishes for him.
“Exactly.”
Arthur smiles fondly at Merlin, then stares back down at the sword.
“I think it should stay here,” Arthur says quietly.
Merlin nods. “You won’t need it out there, Arthur. It’s a different world from the one you left. I think it…I think it belongs here. In Camelot.”
And for once, Arthur agrees with him. He props the sword up against the tree, gazing at the way the afternoon sun glints off the gold lettering.
"'Take me up, cast me away,'" Merlin translates for him.
Arthur laughs. “I never thought to wonder what those words said. Now it seems…fitting.”
Merlin whispers a few words, and the sword, armor, cloak, and even the tree itself glow for an instant. A gentle breeze stirs the cloak as it hangs on a branch, and the golden dragon seems to fly in the wind.
“It’ll be safe here, Arthur. All of it.”
Arthur nods. He reaches out, touches the hilt of his sword one last time. Then he turns back to Merlin.
“Let’s go,” he says quietly, and Merlin follows him from the throne room as they begin their long journey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They don’t get far their first day, what with their late start and their detour into the city. They sleep under the stars, cuddled around each other, wrapped up in blankets Merlin took from the cottage.
Merlin wakes once in the middle of the night, shivering violently, but Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pulls him closer, and Merlin settles back down, blaming it on the chill in the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next afternoon, they pass by the village they slept in a few nights ago, and they raid it for as many clothes as they can carry on top of their own packs, carefully choosing the warmest, best made jackets, sweaters, and boots, knowing the weather will only get colder as Autumn really settles in.
In one of the houses, Arthur picks up a book. Merlin sees the title, “Le Petit Prince,” as Arthur slides it into his bag. He catches Merlin looking at him.
“What?” he asks defensively. “I like the pictures.”
Merlin just smiles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the village, Merlin turns them north. They stop for lunch, and seeing as Arthur no longer has Excalibur, Merlin heads into the woods to kill a couple of rabbits while Arthur gathers what food he can find. They eat a rabbit and a handful of nuts between the two of them, saving the other rabbit for later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun begins to set, they see their first signs of civilization. They pass by wheat fields, then a small orchard, followed by a decently sized garden.
"I've been here before, a long time ago," Merlin says as they approach the outskirts of a large village. "The people here are helpful, but wary. You should let me do the talking."
"That's probably our only option, Merlin, considering I won't be able to understand anyone," Arthur says bitterly. "You forget I don't speak the language."
Merlin laughs.
"Of course." He had fallen into their old language so easily, he'd forgotten that Arthur wouldn't understand Modern English. "But that's an easy fix."
He places his hand on Arthur's forehead. Merlin's eyes glow, and Arthur closes his eyes as a strange but warm magic flows through him.
"How's that? Can you understand me?"
And while Arthur knows that Merlin is speaking a language he shouldn't be able to comprehend, he understands him just fine.
"Yes. Yes, I do," Arthur says in awe, and even though the words he speaks feel foreign on his tongue, he says them easily. "Is there anything you can't do, Merlin?"
"You mean besides make you less annoying?" Merlin jokes, and Arthur hits him lightly on the arm and calls him an idiot. He finds that the insult still feels natural even though it rolls off his tongue differently now.
Merlin grins. "A whole new language of insults and you call me the same thing you always do."
"Old habits," Arthur says with a shrug. "Does this mean I'll be able to read your books on my own?"
Merlin nods. "It'll probably feel weird at first, but after awhile the new language will feel as natural as our old one."
"Will you read the books to me anyway?" Arthur blurts out, and then he blushes slightly. "I mean, it's just...."
"If you want me to, of course I will," Merlin replies with a fond smile that just makes Arthur blush more. "But for now, we should keep moving."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After almost a week of being with just Merlin, seeing other people throws Arthur off. Usually so good with others, he finds himself oddly shy.
Luckily for him, two thousand years of traveling have made Merlin an expert at ingratiating himself with strangers.
They enter the village quietly, hands hanging loosely at their sides to show that they are relaxed and unarmed. They walk past rows of small cottages, and the few people outside eye them warily.
“Merlin…” Arthur whispers. "Maybe we should just go around.”
“It’s all right, Arthur. Trust me.”
They keep walking, until Merlin finally stops outside the largest home, situated near the center of the village.
As though he’s been waiting for them, a man leaves the cottage and walks toward them. He’s older, middle aged, and he’s smiling, though Arthur can sense the unease behind it.
“Welcome, strangers. What brings you to our village?”
The man says the words oddly, as though he’s said them many times before; almost as though he’s seeking a specific answer.
“In these dark times, we come in friendship," Merlin answers.
The man smiles, and this time, it seems genuine.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had people pass through. Even longer since we’ve had any trouble, for which I'm grateful. What can I help you with?”
“You may not remember me, but I passed through here long ago. I spoke to a man named Kevin."
"Kevin was my brother," the man replies sadly. "He died in winter, five years ago. My name is Martin."
"It's good to meet you, Martin. My name is Merlin, and this is my friend Arthur. We wish to trade. It’s been a long time since we’ve had anything other than rabbit and nuts to eat. We were hoping someone could spare some bread, or vegetables.”
The man smiles. “I think I may be able to help you." He offers his hand, and Merlin shakes it, smiling gratefully. Martin reaches his hand out to Arthur as well, and Arthur shakes it politely, though he finds that he can’t get his mouth to move.
“Welcome, Merlin and Arthur. We are lucky here. We’ve managed to grow a good crop of wheat and corn, and a good selection of vegetables. Harvest has just started, and we’ve had a good year. What do you have to offer?”
Merlin grins. “Do you have a need for clothes?”
He opens up one of the bags they collected at the last village, and Martin’s eyes practically light up as he smiles at them.
“Merlin, you may just be my new best friend.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later, they leave the village with bags lighter in clothes but heavier with bread, carrots, lettuce, and even a few precious apples. Merlin had to trade three of their jackets and two pairs of boots so Martin’s family could be warm when winter came. But as they sit around their fire that night, eating their second rabbit on top of bread smothered in carrots, lettuce, and apple slices, it’s totally worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night is warm and still.
Merlin wakes up twice, shivering uncontrollably, before the soothing sound of Arthur's breathing lulls him back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a breakfast of leftover dinner, Merlin leads them on.
As they walk, he mentions to Arthur how lucky they are.
“This portion of the world was mostly uninhabited when the last war started. There was no reason for bombs to drop here. Most of these villages existed even before the war. Some of them have lived this way for centuries, so their villages and farms were already here when the world started to die. They were already used to this life. Without the bombs and the pollution that the major cities experienced, most of these villages were untouched. Things still grow here. There are parts of America and Europe that weren’t so lucky. There are places on Earth where things still don’t grow.”
Arthur frowns.
“It’s sad to think that the world has changed so much. But seeing villages like Martin’s…well, it makes me…hopeful."
And when Merlin smiles, Arthur finds himself smiling, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clouds grow darker all day, until mid afternoon when the sky opens up. Thunder rumbles in the distance and lightning splits the sky, but it’s far off.
Arthur wishes he could say the same for the rain.
Five minutes into the storm, the two of them are soaked to the bone. But then Merlin mutters a quick spell and their clothes become dry and stay that way.
Arthur laughs. It’s almost like they’re in a bubble. Rain hits the ground all around them, but Merlin and Arthur stay dry as can be.
Three hours later, Arthur starts to notice that Merlin is breathing heavily, sweating slightly, and his skin looks pale.
“Merlin?” He places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. The spell stops suddenly at Arthur’s touch, and the rain begins to hit them.
”I’m sorry,” Merlin says quietly, and he mutters the spell again. The rain stops hitting them, but their clothes stay wet this time.
“Merlin, stop,” Arthur says gently, gripping Merlin’s shoulder tightly. The rain hits them once more as the spell fades. “The magic is wearing you out.”
Merlin shivers. “It’s fine, Arthur. Really.”
But as they keep walking, he doesn’t try the spell again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, they find a second village, even bigger than the first one. The people here are more used to travelers, and the greeting they receive is gracious from the start. Merlin speaks to an elderly man named Victor. He takes a strong liking to Merlin, who he says reminds him so much of the son he and his wife Ella lost to a harsh winter five years ago.
After trading some clothes for more vegetables and bread, Victor and Ella invite them into their home.
Merlin and Arthur contribute a rabbit they killed earlier that day, and the rabbit goes into a delicious stew that Ella prepares for them. They even manage to pull together a dessert from some leftover berries and apples and a sweet bread that Ella makes using spices from their small garden.
They sleep under a roof that night, in a small area (set off by a curtain) that used to belong to the couple’s son. It’s dry and warm and more than Arthur dared to wish for. As they lie curled up together, listening to the rain drum loudly against the roof, Arthur smiles.
“What is it?” Merlin questions when he notices the look on his face.
“This is nice,” Arthur says sincerely, and Merlin smiles back.
“Back before the war, something like this would have been impossible. People rarely left their homes, and they were too afraid to interact with strangers.”
Arthur runs a hand lightly through Merlin’s hair. “Perhaps things aren’t so bad after all?”
“Maybe,” Merlin says quietly, but Arthur can tell he doesn’t really mean it.
“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur puts a hand on Merlin’s chin and lifts his face up. He kisses Merlin tenderly, and Merlin gasps slightly before kissing him back.
When Arthur pulls away, Merlin moans softly at the loss, and Arthur laughs and kisses him again.
Merlin grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in closer. He maneuvers his leg over Arthur’s, rubbing against him, and at the feel of Merlin’s cock pressed against him, Arthur groans.
And pushes him away.
“Merlin…we can’t.”
Merlin stares at him hungrily, eyes dark with desire…and something else Arthur can’t quite identify. But the look fades before Arthur can really consider it, and Merlin blushes as he remembers where they are.
“Right,” he says with a nervous laugh. He pulls away from Arthur slightly, settling down against the mattress that’s spread on the floor, and Arthur can’t help but laugh at the look of embarrassment on his face. Two thousand years, and he’s still Merlin.
“I’m glad you haven’t changed too much,” Arthur says sincerely, and he kisses him on the forehead before settling down next to him. “Go to sleep, Merlin.”
Five minutes later, Arthur falls asleep with his arms around Merlin.
Ten minutes later, the rain begins to slow.
Fifteen minutes later, it stops completely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they wake the next morning, the sky is still dark, but the rain has stopped, and Arthur feels like things may be looking up.
Turns out he couldn’t have been more wrong.
…tbc…
Author: JALover7 (alanna_the_lionheart)
Rating: M
Spoilers: series finale, 5.13
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Genres: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, future-fic, reincarnation, post-apocalypse (sort of)
Summary: Sequel to “Full of Grace.” Arthur comes back from Avalon to find that he has been gone for nearly two thousand years. In a world torn apart by war, life has become simple again, yet Arthur finds himself homesick for a time that no longer exists. As Merlin and Arthur help each other cope, an ancient power rises in the Earth, threatening to destroy not only their new found happiness, but the world itself. Work in progress.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin.
As the World Comes to an End
Chapter Four: The Kindness of Strangers
On the way back to the cottage, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in the caves. Starting with the fact that-
“You were friends with the dragon?”
“Yes, Arthur, but that’s not important.”
Then he tells him everything that Kilgharrah said about where the creature comes from and what it is.
“This…thing. Does it have a name?” Arthur inquires thoughtfully.
Merlin shakes his head. “No one was around last time to give it one. I guess we'll have to. A creature that's pure evil. I guess...if I was going to call it anything.….” Merlin stops walking and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes glow gold. “Malus.”
The word comes out in Merlin’s voice, but the tone is all wrong. Without warning, the ground trembles under their feet. It quakes briefly, but deeply, and Arthur feels it in his bones. He shudders as his blood runs cold and the birds in the trees take off.
“Merlin, what on Earth-”
“It likes it. It likes Its new name.”
The sky grows dark as clouds scurry across it to hide the sun faster than Arthur can believe. The animals of the forest take off in all directions.
Merlin’s eyes still glow gold, and though he’s talking in his own voice, Arthur senses that he is not speaking the words of his own free will. He speaks slowly and distantly, like he’s in a trance.
“Merlin, what’s happening?” Arthur asks, and he can’t hide the fear in his voice.
“It likes having a name. It makes It feel powerful.”
Thunder rumbles in the sky, and the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stands up.
“Merlin, you’re scaring me. Snap out of it.”
Arthur wants to move toward Merlin, but it feels like his feet are glued to the ground.
“It can smell your fear, Arthur Pendragon.”
Rain starts to fall, and Arthur shivers.
“Merlin, please,” Arthur begs.
“It’s going to tear the world apart. And there is nothing you can do to stop It.”
Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from where they stand, and Arthur feels like he can move again.
“Merlin, stop it!” He crosses the space between them and puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “Stop it, now!"
Perhaps it's the commanding tone that does the trick. Merlin looks at him, unblinking, but then the rain ends, and the thunder stops rumbling. The darkness slips from the sky and the clouds move away and the sun shines once more.
Merlin’s eyes return to their normal blue.
“Arthur…why are we all wet?”
Arthur feels his legs give out from under him, and he hits the ground, dragging Merlin down with him.
“Arthur? Arthur, what’s going on?”
Arthur’s shaking violently now. He thought he was terrified this morning, but this? This is something entirely worse.
“Arthur…tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin says with concern, and he puts his hands on either side of Arthur’s face and forces him to look up.
Possessed. There’s no other word for it. Merlin was talking, and it was his voice, but the words weren’t his. This evil thing used Merlin to speak Its words like it was nothing. Like Merlin was Its puppet.
He focuses on Merlin’s hands, which are rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders. When he can speak again, his voice shakes.
“‘Malus.’ You called It ‘Malus.’ And It liked it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Merlin explains on the walk back that it didn’t really feel like he was being possessed, which in Arthur’s opinion just makes everything worse, because does Merlin actually know what it’s like to be possessed, and isn’t the first sign of possession that you don’t know it’s happening? Arthur can't even believe they're talking about possession right now.
And then Merlin answers that yes, he has been possessed before. And he’s known it. He’s snapped out of it and remembered what happened.
“This was nothing like that. It didn’t possess me, Arthur. I promise.”
“Fine, It didn’t possess you. But that still doesn’t explain why the ground shook and the sky went dark and lightning struck a tree!”
“Arthur....”
In the end, Merlin apologizes, as though it’s his fault, and Arthur tells him it’s okay.
It’s the first time Arthur’s lied to Merlin since returning four days ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, over a dinner of squirrel and berries, Merlin explains where they have to go.
“Kilgharrah mentioned a seer - a prophetess - that we need to find. She’s the last of her kind. She doesn’t have magic, not the way I do. But she can see the future. And she’ll know how we can communicate with…Malus.”
Merlin says the name quickly, and they flinch in unison, prepared for the worst. But the ground stays still, and they both let out a sigh, grateful that they now have a way of referring to the creature that doesn’t put Merlin in a trance or send the forest animals running for the hills.
“Where can we find this seer?”
“She lives in a small forest community near the lake of Windermere. It should take us about a week to get there. Kilgharrah gave me detailed directions. I should be able to find it.”
Arthur sighs. Two thousand years and nothing’s changed: he and Merlin are off on another quest.
“So, we leave in the morning?” he asks.
“Arthur….” Merlin trails off, and he sounds so distressed that Arthur frowns. He stands, walks toward Merlin, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Merlin reaches up and places his own hand over Arthur’s gratefully.
“You just got back,” Merlin whispers, and Arthur sighs. He moves behind Merlin and grasps his shoulders, messaging them gently. Then he bends down and places a gentle kiss on top of his head.
“I know. But do you remember what you told me last night? We have all the time in the world.”
“Arthur-”
“We’ll fight this evil, Merlin. We’ll fight it together, like we always do. And we’ll win.”
Merlin smiles. “That’s my job, you know. Making sappy speeches.”
Arthur laughs. “Well, I did learn from the best.”
And Merlin laughs, too.
After a moment’s silence, Arthur kneels down next to him.
“It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
Arthur wants desperately to believe it, but then he’s never really been good at keeping faith; that was always Merlin's job.
He kisses Merlin slowly, tenderly, and Merlin leans into it. Eventually, soft caresses give way to needy touches, and Arthur leads them to the bed.
That night, he asks Merlin to make love to him, and while it hurts at first, in the end it’s worth it because he feels needed and loved and closer to Merlin than he’s ever felt to anyone.
As they lie in bed that night, warm and blissful, Arthur wants to tell Merlin the truth.
He wants to tell him that he’s terrified.
Malus used Merlin’s magic to claw Its way out of the Earth; used it listen to them and talk to them. Malus used Merlin’s magic for Its own. It found a way to get to Merlin through his magic.
Arthur’s not terrified of Malus (though It most certainly does scare him). He’s not terrified by the display of Merlin’s magic (though he shivers at the memory of how powerful it was). He’s not scared that Merlin’s magic might hurt him; he’s not scared for himself at all.
What terrifies Arthur more than anything is the thought that he could lose Merlin to his own magic.
He’s going to tell him. He has to.
“Merlin?”
But then Merlin looks at him with those eyes - those bright, trusting, obnoxiously beautiful blue eyes - and damnit he can’t do it, because Merlin needs him, and for the first time in his miserable life Arthur’s going to be there for him.
So when Merlin asks what’s wrong, Arthur tells him to move over a bit because his leg’s falling asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sleep in the next morning. Arthur wakes at dawn, wanting to get an early start. But then Merlin whines and begins to place gentle kisses on his neck, sucking lightly on the spot that he knows will drive Arthur crazy. Arthur moans, then slowly rolls them until he’s hovering over Merlin.
“Okay. Maybe just five more minutes.”
Three hours later, Merlin and Arthur pack up what little food the have left with the clothes they’ve collected. Merlin explains that, since money is useless now, clothes are a good item to have in a world where people trade with others for what they need. Their extra clothes may buy them vegetables or bread from a farmer in need of a good jacket or a pair of strong shoes. He even suggests they raid the village they slept in on their way to Camelot for more.
Merlin digs a small leather cord out of a drawer and ties Ygraine's sigil on to it, then hangs it around his neck. The dragon stays in Camelot as usual and, for the first time in millennia, he leaves the drawing of Arthur behind, too.
As he unfolds it and pins it gingerly to the wall over the bed, he explains to Arthur, “I love this old drawing, but it kind of pales in comparison to the real thing.”
The comment earns him a smile and a gentle kiss from Arthur.
Arthur himself takes the book of Dr Seuss stories. Merlin questions it at first, but Arthur is adamant about it coming with them, so in the end Merlin strengthens the spell that keeps it from getting ruined and lets Arthur pack it in his bag.
Lastly, the two of them gather up Arthur’s armor, and Arthur straps Excalibur onto his belt.
“There’s just one thing we need to do before we go,” Arthur says quietly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later, Arthur’s armor and chainmail lie at the base of the tree in the throne room of Camelot. The two of them place the pieces down reverently, arranging them neatly, as though any moment Arthur will need to put them on.
“There,” Arthur says, smiling fondly. “Now they’re right where they belong.”
“Home,” Merlin finishes for him, and Arthur nods.
“Home.”
They stand quietly for a moment, gazing at the sight of Arthur’s armor and cloak decorating the great tree. But there’s one piece left.
“Arthur…what about the sword?”
Arthur glances down at the golden sword he now holds in his hand, not even sure when he took it out of his belt.
“Yes. About the sword….”
“Yes?” Merlin prompts hesitantly. The tone of Arthur’s voice suggests he wants answers, but that he’s almost too afraid to ask the questions.
“Was this sword really stuck in that stone, Merlin?”
“Well….”
“And you told Morgana that it was forged in a dragon’s breath.”
“Well…the thing is….”
Merlin hesitates, not sure what to say. But then Arthur turns to him, eyes questioning, and it all comes spilling out.
“First of all, the sword’s name is Excalibur.”
And then Merlin tells Arthur everything. How Excalibur was meant for Arthur and no one else. How he took the best sword that Gwen’s father had and asked Kilgharah to enchant it. How he had to throw it in the lake to keep it from Uther. How he used it to defeat Morgana's undead army, then placed it in the stone so it would be ready when Arthur needed it. He finishes up with how he threw it in the Lake of Avalon after Arthur's death so that no one else would be able to use it.
When he’s done, Arthur looks down at the weapon in his hand and laughs. “I always knew there was something special about this sword. Well, beyond the fact that I had to pull it out of a stone, at any rate.”
Merlin smiles. “That sword’s been through a lot, Arthur. It has quite a history.”
“Yes, it does. Thanks to you.”
Merlin shakes his head. “It’s your sword, Arthur. It always has been. I’ve just…borrowed it a few times.”
“Merlin…it’s thanks to you that I even have this sword. It’s thanks to you that I lived long enough to use it; to appreciate it for what it really is. It’s not just my sword, Merlin. In a way…it’s ours.”
Merlin laughs. “Whatever you say, sire,” he says jokingly.
“I mean it, Merlin," Arthur responds in all seriousness. "This sword is…it’s like a part of us. Your magic, my courage. It’s a symbol. It means….” Arthur pauses, at a loss, but then, finally, Merlin thinks he knows what Arthur is getting at.
“We fight together. We always have, Arthur, even if you didn’t know it-”
“And we always will,” Arthur finishes for him.
“Exactly.”
Arthur smiles fondly at Merlin, then stares back down at the sword.
“I think it should stay here,” Arthur says quietly.
Merlin nods. “You won’t need it out there, Arthur. It’s a different world from the one you left. I think it…I think it belongs here. In Camelot.”
And for once, Arthur agrees with him. He props the sword up against the tree, gazing at the way the afternoon sun glints off the gold lettering.
"'Take me up, cast me away,'" Merlin translates for him.
Arthur laughs. “I never thought to wonder what those words said. Now it seems…fitting.”
Merlin whispers a few words, and the sword, armor, cloak, and even the tree itself glow for an instant. A gentle breeze stirs the cloak as it hangs on a branch, and the golden dragon seems to fly in the wind.
“It’ll be safe here, Arthur. All of it.”
Arthur nods. He reaches out, touches the hilt of his sword one last time. Then he turns back to Merlin.
“Let’s go,” he says quietly, and Merlin follows him from the throne room as they begin their long journey.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They don’t get far their first day, what with their late start and their detour into the city. They sleep under the stars, cuddled around each other, wrapped up in blankets Merlin took from the cottage.
Merlin wakes once in the middle of the night, shivering violently, but Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pulls him closer, and Merlin settles back down, blaming it on the chill in the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next afternoon, they pass by the village they slept in a few nights ago, and they raid it for as many clothes as they can carry on top of their own packs, carefully choosing the warmest, best made jackets, sweaters, and boots, knowing the weather will only get colder as Autumn really settles in.
In one of the houses, Arthur picks up a book. Merlin sees the title, “Le Petit Prince,” as Arthur slides it into his bag. He catches Merlin looking at him.
“What?” he asks defensively. “I like the pictures.”
Merlin just smiles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the village, Merlin turns them north. They stop for lunch, and seeing as Arthur no longer has Excalibur, Merlin heads into the woods to kill a couple of rabbits while Arthur gathers what food he can find. They eat a rabbit and a handful of nuts between the two of them, saving the other rabbit for later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun begins to set, they see their first signs of civilization. They pass by wheat fields, then a small orchard, followed by a decently sized garden.
"I've been here before, a long time ago," Merlin says as they approach the outskirts of a large village. "The people here are helpful, but wary. You should let me do the talking."
"That's probably our only option, Merlin, considering I won't be able to understand anyone," Arthur says bitterly. "You forget I don't speak the language."
Merlin laughs.
"Of course." He had fallen into their old language so easily, he'd forgotten that Arthur wouldn't understand Modern English. "But that's an easy fix."
He places his hand on Arthur's forehead. Merlin's eyes glow, and Arthur closes his eyes as a strange but warm magic flows through him.
"How's that? Can you understand me?"
And while Arthur knows that Merlin is speaking a language he shouldn't be able to comprehend, he understands him just fine.
"Yes. Yes, I do," Arthur says in awe, and even though the words he speaks feel foreign on his tongue, he says them easily. "Is there anything you can't do, Merlin?"
"You mean besides make you less annoying?" Merlin jokes, and Arthur hits him lightly on the arm and calls him an idiot. He finds that the insult still feels natural even though it rolls off his tongue differently now.
Merlin grins. "A whole new language of insults and you call me the same thing you always do."
"Old habits," Arthur says with a shrug. "Does this mean I'll be able to read your books on my own?"
Merlin nods. "It'll probably feel weird at first, but after awhile the new language will feel as natural as our old one."
"Will you read the books to me anyway?" Arthur blurts out, and then he blushes slightly. "I mean, it's just...."
"If you want me to, of course I will," Merlin replies with a fond smile that just makes Arthur blush more. "But for now, we should keep moving."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After almost a week of being with just Merlin, seeing other people throws Arthur off. Usually so good with others, he finds himself oddly shy.
Luckily for him, two thousand years of traveling have made Merlin an expert at ingratiating himself with strangers.
They enter the village quietly, hands hanging loosely at their sides to show that they are relaxed and unarmed. They walk past rows of small cottages, and the few people outside eye them warily.
“Merlin…” Arthur whispers. "Maybe we should just go around.”
“It’s all right, Arthur. Trust me.”
They keep walking, until Merlin finally stops outside the largest home, situated near the center of the village.
As though he’s been waiting for them, a man leaves the cottage and walks toward them. He’s older, middle aged, and he’s smiling, though Arthur can sense the unease behind it.
“Welcome, strangers. What brings you to our village?”
The man says the words oddly, as though he’s said them many times before; almost as though he’s seeking a specific answer.
“In these dark times, we come in friendship," Merlin answers.
The man smiles, and this time, it seems genuine.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had people pass through. Even longer since we’ve had any trouble, for which I'm grateful. What can I help you with?”
“You may not remember me, but I passed through here long ago. I spoke to a man named Kevin."
"Kevin was my brother," the man replies sadly. "He died in winter, five years ago. My name is Martin."
"It's good to meet you, Martin. My name is Merlin, and this is my friend Arthur. We wish to trade. It’s been a long time since we’ve had anything other than rabbit and nuts to eat. We were hoping someone could spare some bread, or vegetables.”
The man smiles. “I think I may be able to help you." He offers his hand, and Merlin shakes it, smiling gratefully. Martin reaches his hand out to Arthur as well, and Arthur shakes it politely, though he finds that he can’t get his mouth to move.
“Welcome, Merlin and Arthur. We are lucky here. We’ve managed to grow a good crop of wheat and corn, and a good selection of vegetables. Harvest has just started, and we’ve had a good year. What do you have to offer?”
Merlin grins. “Do you have a need for clothes?”
He opens up one of the bags they collected at the last village, and Martin’s eyes practically light up as he smiles at them.
“Merlin, you may just be my new best friend.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later, they leave the village with bags lighter in clothes but heavier with bread, carrots, lettuce, and even a few precious apples. Merlin had to trade three of their jackets and two pairs of boots so Martin’s family could be warm when winter came. But as they sit around their fire that night, eating their second rabbit on top of bread smothered in carrots, lettuce, and apple slices, it’s totally worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night is warm and still.
Merlin wakes up twice, shivering uncontrollably, before the soothing sound of Arthur's breathing lulls him back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a breakfast of leftover dinner, Merlin leads them on.
As they walk, he mentions to Arthur how lucky they are.
“This portion of the world was mostly uninhabited when the last war started. There was no reason for bombs to drop here. Most of these villages existed even before the war. Some of them have lived this way for centuries, so their villages and farms were already here when the world started to die. They were already used to this life. Without the bombs and the pollution that the major cities experienced, most of these villages were untouched. Things still grow here. There are parts of America and Europe that weren’t so lucky. There are places on Earth where things still don’t grow.”
Arthur frowns.
“It’s sad to think that the world has changed so much. But seeing villages like Martin’s…well, it makes me…hopeful."
And when Merlin smiles, Arthur finds himself smiling, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clouds grow darker all day, until mid afternoon when the sky opens up. Thunder rumbles in the distance and lightning splits the sky, but it’s far off.
Arthur wishes he could say the same for the rain.
Five minutes into the storm, the two of them are soaked to the bone. But then Merlin mutters a quick spell and their clothes become dry and stay that way.
Arthur laughs. It’s almost like they’re in a bubble. Rain hits the ground all around them, but Merlin and Arthur stay dry as can be.
Three hours later, Arthur starts to notice that Merlin is breathing heavily, sweating slightly, and his skin looks pale.
“Merlin?” He places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. The spell stops suddenly at Arthur’s touch, and the rain begins to hit them.
”I’m sorry,” Merlin says quietly, and he mutters the spell again. The rain stops hitting them, but their clothes stay wet this time.
“Merlin, stop,” Arthur says gently, gripping Merlin’s shoulder tightly. The rain hits them once more as the spell fades. “The magic is wearing you out.”
Merlin shivers. “It’s fine, Arthur. Really.”
But as they keep walking, he doesn’t try the spell again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, they find a second village, even bigger than the first one. The people here are more used to travelers, and the greeting they receive is gracious from the start. Merlin speaks to an elderly man named Victor. He takes a strong liking to Merlin, who he says reminds him so much of the son he and his wife Ella lost to a harsh winter five years ago.
After trading some clothes for more vegetables and bread, Victor and Ella invite them into their home.
Merlin and Arthur contribute a rabbit they killed earlier that day, and the rabbit goes into a delicious stew that Ella prepares for them. They even manage to pull together a dessert from some leftover berries and apples and a sweet bread that Ella makes using spices from their small garden.
They sleep under a roof that night, in a small area (set off by a curtain) that used to belong to the couple’s son. It’s dry and warm and more than Arthur dared to wish for. As they lie curled up together, listening to the rain drum loudly against the roof, Arthur smiles.
“What is it?” Merlin questions when he notices the look on his face.
“This is nice,” Arthur says sincerely, and Merlin smiles back.
“Back before the war, something like this would have been impossible. People rarely left their homes, and they were too afraid to interact with strangers.”
Arthur runs a hand lightly through Merlin’s hair. “Perhaps things aren’t so bad after all?”
“Maybe,” Merlin says quietly, but Arthur can tell he doesn’t really mean it.
“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur puts a hand on Merlin’s chin and lifts his face up. He kisses Merlin tenderly, and Merlin gasps slightly before kissing him back.
When Arthur pulls away, Merlin moans softly at the loss, and Arthur laughs and kisses him again.
Merlin grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in closer. He maneuvers his leg over Arthur’s, rubbing against him, and at the feel of Merlin’s cock pressed against him, Arthur groans.
And pushes him away.
“Merlin…we can’t.”
Merlin stares at him hungrily, eyes dark with desire…and something else Arthur can’t quite identify. But the look fades before Arthur can really consider it, and Merlin blushes as he remembers where they are.
“Right,” he says with a nervous laugh. He pulls away from Arthur slightly, settling down against the mattress that’s spread on the floor, and Arthur can’t help but laugh at the look of embarrassment on his face. Two thousand years, and he’s still Merlin.
“I’m glad you haven’t changed too much,” Arthur says sincerely, and he kisses him on the forehead before settling down next to him. “Go to sleep, Merlin.”
Five minutes later, Arthur falls asleep with his arms around Merlin.
Ten minutes later, the rain begins to slow.
Fifteen minutes later, it stops completely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they wake the next morning, the sky is still dark, but the rain has stopped, and Arthur feels like things may be looking up.
Turns out he couldn’t have been more wrong.
…tbc…