No Good Deed
Merlin couldn’t see the sunrise from his luxury accommodations in the castle, also known as the dungeon. The only reason he knew that it was morning was because five guards showed up to escort him to the courtyard, where his sentence would be carried out.
Death.
Five guards was too many for a scrawny country boy with no training in self-defense. Five guards was too few if Merlin decided he was going to put up a fight.
He decided not to.
From day one, arriving in Camelot, he’d known the risks for those who practiced magic here. He’d witnessed a beheading on that first day, and many more since.
He didn’t welcome this, but he accepted it.
He and Gwen had been in attendance during a banquet. Merlin stood behind Arthur, filling his cup of wine when it ran low. Gwen did the same with Morgana. They sent each other knowing smiles and significant glances whenever their nobles said or did something particularly noble-like. Banquets were boring, and Merlin was always grateful to have Gwen there to make the time pass more quickly. She was his first friend in the castle, and they were very close. Though he was glad that she’d realized they wouldn’t work out as a couple, since then things had been more relaxed between them.
The guards opened twisted the key in the lock, and swung the heavy iron door open. They looked at him with hatred and disgust in their eyes. He wanted to plead his case, tell them that he didn’t want to hurt anyone; he just wanted to serve Arthur. However the only man who had the power to save him had not listened when he said it all the night before, so he kept his mouth shut as the men release him from the manacles in the wall, only to shackle his hands and feet together immediately after. They hauled him to his feet, not taking any care to be gentle about it, and pulled him along. Out of the door, down the dark hallway with only the flickering light of torches. Up the stairs, more halls and doors, until finally they emerged into fresh air and sunshine. It was a glorious day, perfect temperature and blue skies with only a few fluffy white cloudy drifting happily across the sky.
A crowd had already gathers in front of the wooden platform, waiting to watch Merlin die on orders of the king, for the crime of magic.
By the time the banquet was nearing its end, many of the knights had indulged in a bit too much mead. They were speaking loudly and slurring their words. Sir Galent was the loudest. Merlin didn’t like him, none of the servants did, he was rough and though there was never any proof, there were rumors about how he treated the servants in his home estate.
Morgana, with a faintly disgusted glare toward the knights, excused herself, and she stood to leave the banquet hall. Gwen followed her a few steps behind. They walked the length of the table and Gwen, still holding her pitcher of wine, tripped over an uneven stone in the floor, splashing the red liquid all over Sir Galent.
She was mortified, and began to apologize instantly, using her own dress to try and mop us the wine. Sir Galent, full of drink and an angry man anyway, was having none of it. “How dare you!”
“I’m so sorry sir, so sorry.” Gwen spoke quickly.
“Sorry are you? You will be.” Sir Galent stood suddenly and a blade appeared in his hand. It flashed in the light as he brought it up to slice into Gwen, it would be a killing blow. She screamed.
Arthur jerked to his feet, reaching for his sword, but he was too far away to get there in time. Everyone else looked on in horror as they watched this crime happen in front of them. Everyone except Merlin.
As soon as he realized no one was going to do anything, he held up his hand and muttered an incantation. His eyes turned gold for a brief second while Sir Galent was propelled off his feet and into the air, to crash against the far wall.
Gwen’s scream died out and there was total silence, all eyes focused on Merlin now. Merlin looked at Arthur, who’s face was confused, and betrayed. Arthur said nothing as Uther called for the guards. He said nothing as Merlin argued for his life in front of the King even though Merlin looked at him more often than Uther. He said nothing as Merlin was dragged to the dungeons, and Merlin thought that a part of him was dead already. For as many times as he’d thought of Arthur finding out, this was one of the worst outcomes he’d imagined.
Merlin looked up at the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, where the king stood, his face like stone. The part that made Merlin try to swallow around the lump that had formed in his throat was the fact that Uther stood alone. Arthur wasn’t there.
Scanning the rest of the castle, for he didn’t want to look at the bloodthirsty crowd, he saw Morgana and Gwen. They were standing at the window in Morgana’s chambers, watching. He couldn’t tell from this far away, but he suspect they might be crying. Gwen waved at him, and then pressed her hand to the window. Merlin, his hands shackled, tried to smile back at her. He probably didn’t pull it off.
The King made his speech, Magic is evil, Kill all the magic users, and Merlin tuned it out because he’d heard it before. He wondered if he would be standing here if it had been Morgana, or Arthur, that Uther had seen him save, instead of a servant. He thought not.
He was manhandled to the bench over which he would lay his chest. The basket to catch his head was in place, and he hope that the executioner was able to sever it with a clean strike, he didn’t want to suffer.
His knees thumped against the wood as he was pushed down, and bent over. More chains, to make sure he couldn’t get away. He wished so much that he’d been able to speak to Arthur one last time, to tell him that everything Merlin did was for him.
The axe fell.
Up in small room at the top of one of the towers, Arthur sat on the floor. Chains kept him from running out of the room and to the courtyard to stop Merlin’s execution, just as they’d stopped him from sneaking down to the dungeons and setting him free last night.
When Arthur had recovered from his shock, he’d begged his father to spare Merlin’s life. The only result was to be locked away. As he left him there, Uther had said, “This must be done. For the good of the Kingdom.”
Arthur heard the shouts of the crowd, and knew it was over. Merlin was gone.
When his father came to let him out he had already wiped away his tears. No one would ever know just how many he’d shed, even as Merlin’s blood seeped into the ground.
Death.
Five guards was too many for a scrawny country boy with no training in self-defense. Five guards was too few if Merlin decided he was going to put up a fight.
He decided not to.
From day one, arriving in Camelot, he’d known the risks for those who practiced magic here. He’d witnessed a beheading on that first day, and many more since.
He didn’t welcome this, but he accepted it.
He and Gwen had been in attendance during a banquet. Merlin stood behind Arthur, filling his cup of wine when it ran low. Gwen did the same with Morgana. They sent each other knowing smiles and significant glances whenever their nobles said or did something particularly noble-like. Banquets were boring, and Merlin was always grateful to have Gwen there to make the time pass more quickly. She was his first friend in the castle, and they were very close. Though he was glad that she’d realized they wouldn’t work out as a couple, since then things had been more relaxed between them.
The guards opened twisted the key in the lock, and swung the heavy iron door open. They looked at him with hatred and disgust in their eyes. He wanted to plead his case, tell them that he didn’t want to hurt anyone; he just wanted to serve Arthur. However the only man who had the power to save him had not listened when he said it all the night before, so he kept his mouth shut as the men release him from the manacles in the wall, only to shackle his hands and feet together immediately after. They hauled him to his feet, not taking any care to be gentle about it, and pulled him along. Out of the door, down the dark hallway with only the flickering light of torches. Up the stairs, more halls and doors, until finally they emerged into fresh air and sunshine. It was a glorious day, perfect temperature and blue skies with only a few fluffy white cloudy drifting happily across the sky.
A crowd had already gathers in front of the wooden platform, waiting to watch Merlin die on orders of the king, for the crime of magic.
By the time the banquet was nearing its end, many of the knights had indulged in a bit too much mead. They were speaking loudly and slurring their words. Sir Galent was the loudest. Merlin didn’t like him, none of the servants did, he was rough and though there was never any proof, there were rumors about how he treated the servants in his home estate.
Morgana, with a faintly disgusted glare toward the knights, excused herself, and she stood to leave the banquet hall. Gwen followed her a few steps behind. They walked the length of the table and Gwen, still holding her pitcher of wine, tripped over an uneven stone in the floor, splashing the red liquid all over Sir Galent.
She was mortified, and began to apologize instantly, using her own dress to try and mop us the wine. Sir Galent, full of drink and an angry man anyway, was having none of it. “How dare you!”
“I’m so sorry sir, so sorry.” Gwen spoke quickly.
“Sorry are you? You will be.” Sir Galent stood suddenly and a blade appeared in his hand. It flashed in the light as he brought it up to slice into Gwen, it would be a killing blow. She screamed.
Arthur jerked to his feet, reaching for his sword, but he was too far away to get there in time. Everyone else looked on in horror as they watched this crime happen in front of them. Everyone except Merlin.
As soon as he realized no one was going to do anything, he held up his hand and muttered an incantation. His eyes turned gold for a brief second while Sir Galent was propelled off his feet and into the air, to crash against the far wall.
Gwen’s scream died out and there was total silence, all eyes focused on Merlin now. Merlin looked at Arthur, who’s face was confused, and betrayed. Arthur said nothing as Uther called for the guards. He said nothing as Merlin argued for his life in front of the King even though Merlin looked at him more often than Uther. He said nothing as Merlin was dragged to the dungeons, and Merlin thought that a part of him was dead already. For as many times as he’d thought of Arthur finding out, this was one of the worst outcomes he’d imagined.
Merlin looked up at the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, where the king stood, his face like stone. The part that made Merlin try to swallow around the lump that had formed in his throat was the fact that Uther stood alone. Arthur wasn’t there.
Scanning the rest of the castle, for he didn’t want to look at the bloodthirsty crowd, he saw Morgana and Gwen. They were standing at the window in Morgana’s chambers, watching. He couldn’t tell from this far away, but he suspect they might be crying. Gwen waved at him, and then pressed her hand to the window. Merlin, his hands shackled, tried to smile back at her. He probably didn’t pull it off.
The King made his speech, Magic is evil, Kill all the magic users, and Merlin tuned it out because he’d heard it before. He wondered if he would be standing here if it had been Morgana, or Arthur, that Uther had seen him save, instead of a servant. He thought not.
He was manhandled to the bench over which he would lay his chest. The basket to catch his head was in place, and he hope that the executioner was able to sever it with a clean strike, he didn’t want to suffer.
His knees thumped against the wood as he was pushed down, and bent over. More chains, to make sure he couldn’t get away. He wished so much that he’d been able to speak to Arthur one last time, to tell him that everything Merlin did was for him.
The axe fell.
Up in small room at the top of one of the towers, Arthur sat on the floor. Chains kept him from running out of the room and to the courtyard to stop Merlin’s execution, just as they’d stopped him from sneaking down to the dungeons and setting him free last night.
When Arthur had recovered from his shock, he’d begged his father to spare Merlin’s life. The only result was to be locked away. As he left him there, Uther had said, “This must be done. For the good of the Kingdom.”
Arthur heard the shouts of the crowd, and knew it was over. Merlin was gone.
When his father came to let him out he had already wiped away his tears. No one would ever know just how many he’d shed, even as Merlin’s blood seeped into the ground.