Missing - Merlin/Arthur fanfic (Chapter 3/6 + Epilogue)
Chapter Three - Dreaming
Arthur sat up abruptly in bed, sweat clinging feebly to his skin, feeling the last dredges of a cold fear leaving him. He ran his hands over his face and sighed almost forcefully. These nightmares….how long would he have them? Not even a sleeping draught from Gaius had helped him!
Ever since the night of Camelot's founding celebration, he'd had successive nightmares that had him waking up in cold sweats every night for two weeks. He couldn't think of anything that had happened to him that night to cause them, but over and over again they came. He never remembered what they were about before….but last night's was….
Athur shuddered. He felt absolutely terrified of the dreams he was having, even though last night's should have proven that he had nothing to be frightened of.
He'd seen a young man, about his own age, sleeping in the stables. He'd heard his own voice waking the other man up and Arthur had realized this man had fallen asleep in horse manure. But wait, his conscience had murmured as he heard himself berating the other man, who looked more and more desolate with every word, if he really had fallen asleep in the stables on his own, why would he sleep with his face in the manure? But he hadn't listened to his conscience and had continued with the verbal assault until the other man left and he was standing alone with a ratty looking man in the stables. He knew the ratty man's name: Cedric. He'd stolen Arthur's keys and then used magic to attack Camelot.
He'd seen himself and Morgana and that same mysterious man in a cave. They were looking for something, an afanc, because it was poisoning the water supply and if they didn't kill it then Gwen would be killed for acts of sorcery she didn't commit. Morgana and he had a little arguing banter, and the other man never tried to stick up for him, which for some reason kind of upset Arthur. Then they were fighting the afanc and nothing was working until he heard the mysterious man's voice yelling to use the torch. The afanc lit on fire, gloriously if Arthur were to admit it, and died. The plague was lifted and everyone was saved.
He'd seen himself in his room when that same man had come in and set a large snake head, positioned as if ready to attack, on his table next to his food and claimed Valiant, a knight in the tournament, was using magic to defeat his opponents and how he'd chopped off the head of one of the snakes to show to Arthur. At first Arthur had been disbelieving, simply because he couldn't imagine this man, scrawny and weak, could chop off a snake's head. Then that man had said "I know I'm just a servant….and my word doesn't count for anything….I wouldn't lie to you." And when Arthur had said "I want you to swear to me….what you're telling me is true," the other had responded, "I swear it's true," and stared at him with such truth and conviction that Arthur heard himself saying, "Then I believe you," without a hint of doubt. Arthur remembered Valiant. He'd killed Valiant in the tournament after he'd been attacked by those same snakes.
Arthur felt confused beyond all belief. The only thing moderately frightening about any of those dreams was the afanc, but Arthur had killed the afanc. The weird part was that….these weren't merely dreams. They were Arthur's memories, only they were altered. He'd killed the afanc and Morgana had gone with him, no matter how hard he tried to make her stay back, and he'd accused Valiant of using magic and then had defeated him in the tournament after he proved to the whole court that it was true. And Cedric had been his manservant for a short while and had stolen his keys and gone to the newly opened tomb below the castle and then he'd used magic to attack the city until the force of it all had killed him from the inside out. But the man from his dreams hadn't been at any of those events. He had not been there when Cedric was his manservant, he had not been there when Arthur killed the afanc and proved Gwen's innocence for Morgana, and he had not been there when Arthur tried to prove Valiant was using magic.
So who was he and why was he in Arthur's head?
Arthur roughed his hair up and then fell back onto his pillows. None of this made any sense, thus, it had to be some form of magic. Some sort of magic had to be placing that man in his dreams, in memories he had no part of.
"…until the day I die…"
Arthur jumped up and out of bed, grabbing the sword next to his headboard and looking around the room for the enemy. "Who said that?" he demanded calmly. "Where are you?"
There was no answer. Silence reigned in Arthur's room for about three minutes before the prince realized that the voice hadn't come from his bedroom, but from his head. It was that mysterious man from his dreams. Arthur almost started to fear what those words meant, but something inside him was screaming, pleading, that those words meant something far warmer than his mind would have him believe. Arthur struggled with himself, trying to find the rest of that sentence, but heard nothing more but the buzzing of his own brain.
"Uh," Arthur groaned out and put the sword back in its previous position. "This is going to drive me insane."
The rest of the day saw Arthur preoccupied. He barely managed to hold his own against his knights in training and his father was quite upset when Arthur was unable to even remember that a guest had been present after a hearing with a messenger from an outlying village had ended. Arthur was confined to his room for the rest of the day after that as punishment, but Arthur barely noticed. He couldn't stop seeing images from his dream the night before. They filtered in through every waking thought. Always, something would remind him of them and then all he could see was a scene he'd dreamt the night before.
He should've been upset that a dream was so all encompassing, but instead he was intrigued and wanted to know more. As the day progressed, he actually managed to elongate the dream memories.
If he sat at his desk he could see as the mystery man come into his chambers and breathlessly try to explain that Cedric had been taken over by an evil sorcerer's spirit and was going to destroy the city. He could see himself ordering the man removed from the castle and then watched as the man and Cedric started to fight.
In the throne room, he saw Gwen being charged with sorcery because her father had been cured of the magical illness that had taken over the entire town. The mystery man was in the corner. This led to him seeing a vision where he was in the council room with his father and the entire royal court as the mystery man barged in and claimed to be a sorcerer, the one who cured Gwen's father. Just as he was to be taken away to be killed, Arthur jumped in and saved him by coming up with lies about the man being in love with Gwen. It was strange to know that a you you didn't remember was telling lies, that you somehow knew were lies even in this strange world you were seeing, for a man you didn't know but felt you should so he wouldn't die. If that thought confused you, it definitely confused Arthur.
When he tried to elaborate on the Valiant moment, all he could do was repeat the words that man had said over and over again. "I know I'm just a servant….and my word doesn't count for anything….I wouldn't lie to you."
It wasn't until nearly nightfall that Arthur realized the difference between last night and the other nights he'd had these dreams. The only difference was that he'd taken one of Gaius' sleeping droughts before bed. He was about to send a guard down to get a sleeping draught from Gaius when said physician showed up in his room.
"Ah, Gaius," he greeted with a smile. "I was about to send for you."
Gaius gave a little bow. "That's all well, then, sire. Your father told me you seemed….distracted today," he said carefully. Arthur did not doubt that his father's definition had been a might bit more harsh. "So he asked me to give you a sleeping draught. It seems he thinks you were inattentive because you aren't sleeping well."
"Well, it is true I'm not sleeping very well lately," Arthur conceded, not believing his luck. "The draught last night helped a bit, but another one wouldn't be bad either."
Gaius gave him a curious look, no doubt surprised by the prince's willingness to take one of Gaius' awful tasting potions, but handed over the little black bottle nonetheless. Arthur thanked him and then dismissed him so he could go to sleep. Not a minute after the first drop of liquid had passed his lips, Arthur was in dreamland again.
…
...
Merlin lay on his side on the ground in the cave, three days from Camelot, and watched the fire before him. The sight of the flames flickering to and fro was hypnotizing and almost made him forget about his all-consuming loneliness. With an almost lazy flicker of gold in his eyes, the flames shaped themselves into knights jousting with one another and then exploded into the great Dragon as he flew high above Camelot and shot deadly fire from his mouth. Merlin blinked, hard, and the flames became a fiery girl retrieving water from a pump well and then into a form he knew was his mother, though it was simply sitting in a chair and staring into the distance. The flame flickered and Merlin saw the face of a man he'd known for only a few hours but who had meant the world to him: his father.
With a simple sigh, the flames died back down into a normal fire and Merlin shut his eyes. No matter what he did, all his magic showed him were scenes from his life that made him ache deep inside. It was a battle inside his chest: using magic made him feel whole and complete, but the images it showed him always reminded him of Camelot and Ealdor and all the adventures he'd been on with Arthur and that hurt him.
With another sigh, Merlin rolled over and faced away from the fire to sleep.
…
...
"Hey, that's enough."
A peasant with brown pants and a red shirt, brown jacket, and blue neckerchief. A hand held out. A foot on a target full of daggers.
"What?"
"You've had your fun, my friend."
"Do I know you?"
A hand held out. A cocky grin. His servant running around as daggers hit the target.
"I'm -"
Arthur twitched in his sleep.
"So I don't know you."
A dark room covered in cob webs full of important people. A mace landing in a little basket of eggs.
"I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass."
"Tell me…..Do you know how to walk on your knees?"
Arthur groaned aloud and rolled his head to the side in bed.
"Oh! Don't run away!"
"From you?"
A wide grin. A hand held out. Him and the other sizing each other up. A mismatched punch thrown and caught.
"I could take you apart with one blow!"
"I could take you apart with less…"
A conveniently placed rope. A fall on some sacks of grain. Fumbling with the mace. A foot on a target full of daggers.
"Heh. Sorry…How long have you been training to be a prat….my lord?"
A mock bow. A laughing smile. Running. A broom used as a weapon.
"There's something about you…..I can't quite put my finger on it."
Arthur's eyebrows pulled together.
"Ev…..Everything she said to you…..Those were Morgause's words."
A sword dropping to the ground. A watery smile. His mother hugging him close and whispering anger in his ear. Shock and terror and hatred.
"One day you'll be a great king."
A giant lizard-like monster. A desperate cry. A cave. His father at his bedside. Gwen mumbling at his bedside. A gentle, candle lit room.
"But I know you. You're a prat."
Sorrowful tones. The fire. Grapes and wine. People in and out checking to make sure he's okay. Should've died. He's standing at the door and he won't move closer. Move closer. Move.
"Promise me….if you ever get another servant…don't let it be a bootlicker."
"If this is you trying to leave your position-"
"No."
Alone. Gone. He's gone. He said goodbye.
Arthur gripped his sheets.
There was a unicorn. He remembered this….he'd killed the unicorn and brought back its horn. All the grain died overnight. The water turned to sand. The restores rotted. That man…the mystery man. He'd told Arthur he had a final chance to save his people. Go to the Labyrinth of Gedref and face the final task.
There was the ocean stretched out before him, and a table, and two chairs, and Anhora stood to the side while the mystery man sat in the chair across from him.
"I'm sorry."
One of them had to die. One of the goblets was poisoned. One of them….
Arthur jumped awake with a gasp. He took a moment to steady his racing heartbeat and ran his right hand through his hair with a deep sigh. He shut his eyes and took deep breaths.
"It didn't make sense," he murmured. "Broken conversations and missing names….and the unicorn…."
He'd killed the unicorn, then all the food and water was gone. But after Arthur let a man leave with a little extra food, the water came back…He'd met the man in the woods and gotten angry when his honor had been insulted. Anhora said he'd failed the tasks and all of Camelot would die. Then all the food reserves had rotted to nothing. He remembered receiving word that Anhora had another task for him, one that would absolve him of his crime and save the kingdom but….
Arthur ran the hand in his hair down his face and then let it fall back to the bed. "I don't remember."
Without that mystery man, the rest of the dream memory couldn't have happened. In fact….a lot of the scenes he was seeing…a lot of his living, day to day memories, were impossible with only the people in them. Two years back, he remembered the witch Mary Collins had tried to kill him. But he couldn't remember how he'd survived it. And it was all over his memory! Moments where something happened but the way it happened didn't make sense the way it all played out in his mind. If he thought about it-
"Prince Arthur."
Arthur jumped to a sitting position and reached for his sword the same moment he took in the appearance of the woman standing just past the foot of his bed. She had golden blonde hair down to the middle of her back and crystal clear forest green eyes that seemed to shine with an iridescent glow. She wore a simple green dress with almost see-through sleeves down to her elbows and a thin silver chain necklace.
She didn't smile when she spoke, but her voice sounded like something from a dream, something not entirely there. "Do not bother with your weapon, prince, for it will do you no good. I come with no harmful intent."
Arthur found himself believing her and let his hands fall to his lap in bed. He narrowed his eyes at her. "If you aren't here to kill me, witch, then what brings you?" Perhaps this was a magic user that would not lie.
The woman took a step forward and Arthur tensed, but all she did was place her left hand on his bed post and stare deep into his eyes. "You sleep to dream, young prince, to dream of a person you do not know. This man frightens you, yet you seek him in your dreams night after night. Your search encompasses all your senses and overruns your life." She gave him a sorrowful look. "If you continue this way, the search will kill you….So why do you continue to look for a man who exists only in your dreams?"
Arthur regarded her seriously, but did not speak. He wouldn't let it show on his face, but the truth was that her words had struck a chord in him. He had no idea why he kept trying to figure out who this mystery man was. He didn't know. He-
"Because something's missing," he found himself saying. "Something, no….someone is missing, and I need to bring him back. I have to find him."
If anything, the witch's smile became even sadder, but her eyes had begun to sparkle. "No matter how hard you may search….no matter what you try….I'm sorry, young, destined prince….but you will never find what you are looking for."
"And how would you know?" Arthur demanded quietly, not wanting to attract the guards.
"The very thought of him you speak of….of the destiny greater than time and magic itself…..that line was broken. That man…" She looked away, out Arthur's bedroom window. "That man does not live in this world."
"So he died?"
She turned back to Arthur with an almost neutral frown. "He does not live," she repeated cryptically.
Arthur blinked and the woman was gone. He quickly searched his room but she was nowhere to be found. Now certain that he was alone, Arthur let himself ponder her words. When someone died, you said they died. But the witch had just said 'He does not live.' At first, it would seem she meant that the man was dead….but the way she said it implied something much greater. But what was it?
…
...
Chapter Four - Realizing