Title: On My Own
Category: Slash (Canon AU)
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin as well as Uther, Agravaine, Bayard, and Gaius
Rating/Warnings: T, character deaths
Summary: What would happen if the court finds out about Merlin's magic. My first (and possibly only) slash story.
Arthur had never seen Merlin's eyes so cold, so lifeless as his friend…no his enemy was led to the noose. The warlock stood tall and proud – his spine straight as the best lance – before the two little steps that lead to his demise. The Prince watched as Merlin took a deep and slow breath that puffed his chest out as he exhaled and then made it go concave when he inhaled. In fascination, Arthur noticed how high the sorcerer's knees went while Merlin climbed the steps one at a time and then step onto a small block.
There was something different about the man who stood before the noose. Sure, Merlin had the same eyes, nose, and large ears. He was just as thin and gangly. But, there was a certain air, a certain dangerous presence, that hadn't been there before. Arthur couldn't look at Merlin without feeling ill. He'd lied for years and he probably would've continued to lie if he hadn't been forced to use his magic to kill someone. Uther had claimed that Merlin had been acting ever since he'd become Arthur's servant, but the Prince could not believe that. The King had claimed that Merlin had planned to kill all of the party-goers and claim the throne that night, but he didn't believe that either. However, there was nothing he could do to change his father's views or conviction of the warlock.
Swallowing, Arthur met Merlin's gaze. The warlock had looked up towards him as the guard placed the black hood on him. The Prince's knees felt weak as the loop was slipped over his head. Then, the block was kicked away and the noose tightened. "You were blind to his true self, son," whispered Uther as he left the balcony.
Arthur didn't leave the spot on the stone terrace. All of his attention was upon the hanging corpse in the courtyard below. The Prince wasn't even aware of the dawn rising or the fact it began to rain. He pressed his hands against the stone and then wrapped his fingers around the rail until his arms shake and knuckles turn white. "I love him but when the night is over he is gone," whispered the Prince. His voice was thick with unshed tears and shock. The Prince could hardly believe what had happened. Everything had been going so well, but now he felt as if he were on his own.
12 Hours earlier
The deal with Mercia was finally happening. Camelot and the neighboring land had not met since the last time (when Merlin drank the poison and nearly died). In fact, all of the Kingdom's were there. Even Agravaine was visiting for this feast.
"You look dashing," said the warlock as he brushed a bit of lint from Arthur's shoulder. It had been standing out against the red velvet.
"No thanks to you," replied the Prince as he took Merlin's hand and squeezed it lightly. Looking the warlock in the eyes, he smiled at his manservant.
"I just picked out the outfit," Merlin replied as he tried to return the smile, but failed. It looked as if he smelled something dead. "It was nothing. Really."
"If you say so," Arthur said. It sounded as if the Prince was humoring Merlin, which he was. Kissing his pale hand, the blonde-haired man let go of the raven-headed man's hand. Stepping back, Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and examined Merlin. "Something's not quite right."
Merlin looked down at himself. "What?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"You're outfit. It's not right. You look too much like a servant," Arthur remarked as he went to his cupboards and pulled out a packet. Coming back over to the warlock, he handed it to him. "Open it."
"All right," stammered Merlin as he took the package. Lying it on the table, he ripped into the brown paper and held up a studded brown leather jacket and then Camelot red tunic in some of the lushest fabric Merlin had ever felt.
Looking at Arthur, he shook his head "This is too much. I can't take these clothes," Merlin said as he pushed them away.
"The best for my best," replied Arthur. "I want you to weather them. Don't make me give you an order. I don't want to"
"You never seemed to have trouble wanting to order me about in the past. Why have troubles now or are you saving them for bedtime," quipped Merlin with a smirk and mischievous glint in his eyes.
Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. "Just get dressed. I've a speech to study," retorted the Prince after he goes to his desk and sits down.
"Very well, sire," remarked Merlin. He grabbed the packet and before leaving the room, looked over at Arthur and smiled. However, the Prince was too engrossed with his scroll that Arthur didn't see him staring. That was okay though. Feeling awkward just standing there, the warlock raced from the room and to Gaius's chambers.
An hour later, he was dressed and at the party, as was everyone else. Spying Arthur, he grabbed a pitcher and headed over to the Prince. "Wine, sire," asked the manservant.
Arthur looked up at Merlin. "You aren't serving tonight. You're here as a guest," the blonde-haired man said. When the warlock didn't place the pitcher down, he frowned. "You're free to do as you will. Sit it down."
"What if I want to serve," asked Merlin.
"Then you really are an idiot, aren't you," asked Arthur.
"Prat," remarked the manservant as he finally relented to the Prince's request. He sat the jug down. Feeling unsure of himself, he fiddled with his leather jacket.
"You look quite dashing," Arthur told him.
"Thank you," Merlin whispered. "It's no thanks to you." The manservant looked around and frowned. His gaze settled on Agravaine, who looked like he was waiting for something to happen. "Something feels off. Everything is too perfect. I've got a bad feeling."
Arthur looked around as well. He too turned his attention to his uncle. "I can't help but agree," remarked the Prince. "But, I don't know what."
"I'll keep my eyes peeled for anything unusual," promised Merlin. "Nothing bad is going to happen. I'm going to make sure of it."
Arthur shook his head and smiled. "I know you will. You're too good to me," replied the circlet-wearing man. Hearing a noise to his right, Arthur turned to face Uther.
"I hate to interrupt you two, but I believe you have a speech to give," the King said.
"Of course," muttered Arthur as Merlin left his side to wander around the dining hall. Pushing his chair back, the Prince stood. Raising the goblet, he tapped on it to get everyone's attention.
As the men and women looked at him, he nodded and smiled to the group. "Ladies and gentlemen, we come here tonight for celebratory reasons. For years Mercia and Camelot have been at odds with one another. The two lands had tried and failed several times to create peace and unite in a common cause. But, those times are behind us. They are no more. Finally, our kingdoms can join together on a common ground and with common wants. There has been too much bloodshed and tears. Both sides have lost many good men."
As the crowd clapped, Arthur paused. He reached for his goblet to take a sip of its contents. The Prince was a bit parched and he was only halfway through the speech. Arthur did not want to lose his voice before he got to the end of it. Taking a sip, the Prince put the goblet down on the table.
"Camelot and Mercia both want their lands to prosper and grow. We want happiness and health," Arthur stated. "For the love of our countrymen and our lands, we bind together. The Kingdoms need each other, even if at times they are at odds."
The Prince noticed Agravaine nod jerkily to Bayard. Bayard returned the gesture. Apparently, so did Merlin because he was moving towards Arthur's uncle. Something was about to happen, but the blonde-haired man decided to continue onwards with his speech.
"There is a new threat to us all. If we are at odds and not working together, we could lose our lands and more people to the Saxons. The Kingdoms could fall. So, we have to be vigilant. We must band together. For love and honor and justness we sign this treaty," Arthur concluded, feeling fuzzy-headed and slightly buzzed from the wine (which the Prince thought was odd because he hadn't had much to drink, yet).
Agravaine slipped something from within his sleeve. He raised it over his head and prepared to throw it right at the dazed Arthur. But, then, there was a shout. Ancient words filled the air and Agravaine was thrown against the wall. No person had his or her hands upon him. The words were tinged with a very familiar accent. "Merlin!" Arthur shouted as he watched the warlock – horrified at what he saw before him.
This was not the man Arthur knew and loved. This was a powerful and dangerous creature. Merlin's eyes glowed gold. His hands were still outstretched towards Agravaine. His whole body shook with the energy of the magic he'd just used. Satisfied that Arthur's uncle wasn't going to move, Merlin lowered his hands, but he didn't move, not even to get out of Gaius's way.
The Prince watched as the physician examined Agravaine. In fact, everyone observed Gaius. No one moved, not even to capture Merlin. They all waited for the old man's response. When it came, they gasped. "He's dead," Gaius whispered in a sad voice.
"Arrest the magic user," growled Uther.
"What of Bayard. He was working with Agravaine. I saw them interacting," Arthur demanded. His eyes were wide and he looked panicked. The Prince was panicked.
"No proof," spat Uther as Merlin was grabbed and dragged out of the dining hall.
"No proof?" sputtered Arthur. "I saw them!" When Uther dismissed his son, Arthur stormed from the hall and to the dungeons just as Merlin was put into a cell.
When the door was locked and the guards were back at their post, Arthur strode forward. "How could you," demanded the Prince.
"I couldn't let you die," Merlin said.
"No! How, could you lie to me," asked Arthur through clenched teeth. "How could you practice magic? You know the laws of Camelot and yet you learned anyway."
"I didn't learn. I was born with it," the warlock whispered. "I was doing magic before I could talk."
"Don't lie to me," said the Prince in a warning voice.
"I'm not. Don't burn me, please. That's all I ask," muttered Merlin as he turned his back on Arthur. "And remember, when I'm gone, that I did it for you. I only used magic for you because I love you. I wanted to protect you."
Arthur's stomach clenched as he turned away from the cell. His father had been there, listening. He'd gotten his proof. Any chance of Arthur attempting to free the warlock could never happen. "He lies. All magic users lie," Uther said as they left the dungeons. "He doesn't love you, Arthur. He's just been acting. This was his plan on along. He wanted to get close and then take over the Kingdom."
The Prince shook his head. He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't. However, Arthur didn't protest. "Don't burn him," was his response.
"Very well, if that's how you'll have it," Uther said. "He'll hang in an hour." Then, he left his son standing there, alone and in shock.
Present time
Arthur couldn't believe what had happened. His best friend and soul mate was gone forever. He was now alone and it hurt so badly. Feeling sick with grief, he doubled over. This wasn't fair. Merlin shouldn't have died. He'd been trying to save him – to save Arthur. Yet, he was dead. This was wrong!
The Prince couldn't wrap his head around the events of the day. Nor could he wrap his head around killing a man who was only trying to protect someone. Hanging a man for something he was born as didn't seem right either and Arthur couldn't wrap his head around that, too.
He was never going to see Merlin again. Never would his ears be filled with his banter or jokes. That smile of his and those adorably big ears was something he'd never see again. Arthur realized he couldn't bear. A big part of him had died when Merlin had been hanged. Arthur felt incomplete.
Heading back inside, Arthur went to the great hall. Why, Arthur didn't know. It was just somewhere to go. The room was empty; there weren't even any servants picking up the dishes and removing the platters of food. However, Agravaine's body had been removed.
Seeing something glint in the dark, Arthur stooped and picked it up. It was the dagger his uncle had been about to murder him with. Fiddling with it, he examined the blade – some small and insignificant, but oh, how much damage it could cause.
Enraged and anguished, Arthur slashed at the tapestry hanging near him. He cut at the curtains and tablecloths too. The Prince jabbed and swiped until sweat poured into his eyes and tears poured down his cheeks. Huffing and unable to see, Arthur stumbled towards the exit. Tripping on a chair leg, the blonde-haired man fell.
He tried to catch himself. That was his mistake. Landing, he felt the blade enter his chest and blood pour out of the wound. With a slight gasp, Arthur's eyes closed and he knew no more.