AN: Sometimes I like to imagine what should happen in Merlin. Then I remember I don't own it and can only write fanfiction.
What's this? One moment I'm writing a crackfic, next I' writing angsty stuff? IDK. I'm going on a little writing binge, so. And yes, if you're wondering, I am planning on updating my other fics soon.
One of the best days of Merlin's life was when Camelot's ban on magic was repealed when he was seven. He remembered his mother coming into their house where he was finishing his breakfast, eyes teary. He'd jumped off his chair and ran to her.
"Mummy, what's wrong?" he'd asked urgently.
She'd given a watery smile and scooped him up into a hug. "Magic is not illegal anymore, Merlin. You don't have to hide anymore."
Even at the age of seven, he'd understood that this was big. He looked up into her face, hope written on his. "You mean...no more secrets?"
For some reason, this seemed to simultaneously delight and dismay her. But she whispered back "No more secrets."
The inhabitants of Ealdor would always remember that day, for Merlin's euphoria combined with his lack of control meant their gardens went haywire when he passed by, plants growing at alarming rates, blossoming in a matter of seconds. He delighted his fellow children by creating a flock of butterflies. The creeping chill of approaching autumn vanished, replaced by a warmth in the air that the butterflies dove and danced through.
At one point, the raven-haired boy realized someone was missing.
"Where's Will?" he asked his mother. "I want to show him what I can do."
For a moment, she'd looked incredibly sad. "I'm afraid Will had to leave, Merlin," she said gently. "But look! Look how many new friends you have!"
Merlin looked around, really looked, and realized he knew none of the children. All of the children he'd grown up with were...gone. And furthermore, there were so many new strangers! When had that happened? Most of the children in Ealdor had never been that friendly towards Merlin, with the exception of Will, but still, the jarring change unsettled him.
These children, however, seemed perfectly welcoming to him. Some were nervous, at first, intimidated by his powers. But they soon forgot it when he skipped over to them and handed them a juicy fruit that had sprung up onto a tree or bush spontaneously, all because he had wanted it too.
The years went by, and though Merlin missed Will and constantly asked his mother where his friend had gone, (even though she never said anything more than "He had to leave, Merlin, I'm so sorry, he didn't want to,") he made friends with the other children. Even the adults were kinder to him. Though sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, when they thought he couldn't see, he'd see a deep sadness appear on their face, along with something that looked strangely like guilt. But, being young, Merlin never paid it much mind.
When he was a teenager, Merlin's magic began to become out of control. Many times he'd find himself repeatedly shouting apologies to his neighbors for causing some accident just by twitching. Eventually, everyone knew it couldn't continue.
So, one night, Hunith breached the subject of sending him to Camelot to live with his uncle, Gaius, who could teach him how to control his magic. Merlin agreed, though rather reluctantly. He would miss Ealdor, his friends, and his mother, but it was obvious he needed help controlling his magic, and he couldn't deny he was a little excited to learn some real spells.
He traveled by foot to Camelot. Arriving at the gates, he drank in the beautiful sight of the ivory turrets towering above the bustling citadel. A smile crept onto his face. He had a feeling he was going to like it here.
Gaius, the court physician, welcomed him warmly. Merlin was rather startled when he set eyes on the man, he looked much older than he should, corresponding with Merlin's few memories of him, anyways. But he brushed it aside, perhaps the man just hadn't aged that gracefully.
It was on only his second day when he ran into someone that irritated him. King Arthur was a fair king, good-looking, and very arrogant. He had the air of an overconfident young man, and when Merlin saw him in the marketplace, buying something from a fine silk merchant for Queen Guinevere, he couldn't help making a sarcastic remark to the blond when he became snappish with the salesman. After all, the king was not so young now, he should know better.
An argument ensued. The king called him a "clotpole", whatever the hell that was. Merlin made the mistake of threatening him with magic.
Merlin spent the next few hours in the stocks.
That night, Gaius came home saying he had good news. King Arthur was in need of a personal servant, and he had secured the position for Merlin. The warlock imagined the royal's face when he realized who his new servant was to be.
After they ate their supper and Merlin went to bed, he was woken by a voice speaking in his head. Following it, Merlin ended up in a clearing in the Darkling Woods, where, surprisingly, a large white dragon was waiting.
The dragon told Merlin that he was born with magic to protect Arthur. It was his destiny, a prophecy written in the stars that was read by the most prodigious of Druid seers. Merlin felt overwhelmed, as well as a little confused. Why did he have to protect someone who was such a prat?
However, after serving the king for a while and getting to know him, Merlin realized why. Arthur really was a good person, he just needed a little guidance. They bantered and insulted each other, the king often acting as though he were younger, but they felt a friendship appearing between them that only grew stronger with every muttered "clotpole" or "prat".
After a few years, Merlin felt like he knew the older man as well as himself. There was just one thing he didn't understand. Sometimes, when he thought his younger friend was busy, the royal would get an incredibly sad look on his face. He'd seen it on the queen, who was a good friend to him, and Gaius as well. But mostly, it found its way onto Arthur's face, though maybe that was just due to the fact that Merlin was around him the most, as required by his job.
"Why do you do that?" Merlin finally got the courage to ask one day.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"That...look you get sometimes. When you think no one's looking. I've seen it, it's practically a regular occurrence," Merlin replied, trying to keep things relatively light.
A shadow seemed to pass over the king, and there was no humor in his face. "It's nothing. It's just that sometimes you remind me of a friend I had once. I lost him."
Merlin could tell the king was done talking about it. He didn't bring the subject up again.
When Gaius passed away, Merlin went to Arthur once he'd finished mourning the old man who had been like a father to him and offered to fill the now empty spot of Court Physician, at least until someone better was found, for the only medical knowledge Merlin had was what he had picked up from Gaius.
"I've got a better idea," Arthur responded.
Another of one of the best days of Merlin's life was when Arthur made him his Court Sorcerer. And old man by the name of Calidan had occupied the position, but agreed that it was time for him to retire, and offered Merlin his spot. Merlin accepted. The lingering sadness from loosing Gaius was still there, but warlock knew moving forward would help.
For many years, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere ruled Camelot with Merlin, their friend and advisor at their side. Peace reigned over the land of Albion, magic roaming freely through it. Merlin grew so powerful he could extinguish almost any threat quickly. They were literally living a legend, but they didn't care about their fame, only about their kingdom and their friends.
At one point, Arthur gave his Court Sorcerer a gift. It was the size of a large coin, and bore a sigil on it.
"It belonged to my mother," the king told the warlock. "I gave it to a friend long ago, but I think you should have it now." Merlin took it, wide-eyed. It was a symbol of the strength of their friendship, their friendship that seemed like it would last forever.
But of course, nothing lasts forever. Over time, Arthur grew older. Guinevere passed away peacefully in her sleep one night. Many of the knights Merlin was closest to - Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Leon - had either died in battle or of old age. Eventually, it was only Arthur, and he was weak. The new Court Physian, Reldor, informed them that the king had little time left.
0o0
Arthur remembered the day Merlin came to Camelot. He'd made sure to act arrogant and rude, the way he had when he was younger. He knew it wasn't necessary, that it was rather selfish, but he did it anyway, and it did not escape his notice that none of his friends complained.
As he had hoped, Merlin had rose to the bait and told him off for being rude to the vendor. The fight that followed was rather short. Despite the legality of magic, threatening the king with it was enough to get a person punished. So he ordered the warlock thrown in the stocks, ignoring the abnormally large crowd that had gathered. As expected, Merlin merely laughed while getting pelted with fruit.
Merlin became his servant. Their relationship started out rather rocky, but their friendship solidified over time. The warlock also became good friends with Gwen, seeing as she dined and slept with Arthur. He was astonished to learn that she had once been a servant, for she looked and acted the part of a good royal - beautiful, smart, good at handling rough situations. Both Arthur and Gwen could see that Arthur gained more respect from Merlin because of his marriage to her.
But every now and then, the little things, like Merlin not knowing Gwen had once been a servant, caught up to him, and he would pause in writing a speech or reviewing a letter and his eyes would burn because it wasn't the same. It was very, very close, but it wasn't the same. He could tell the others felt the same, and, like him, felt guilty about it.
He often wondered if he should tell Merlin. Didn't he deserve to know, after all? But the warlock seemed so happy, and happy more often, and it was such a deserved and hard-earned happiness that Arthur would hate to take it away. He often felt like a coward, yet he noticed no one else breached the subject of telling Merlin.
Then came the day when he lay on his deathbed, and all his life's decisions came rushing back to him, and he was regretting more than ever the secret. So, when Merlin came in to say his final goodbyes, he reached with a trembling hand under his mattress, where he'd hidden something very important.
"Has Balinor come by yet?" Merlin asked in a grief-laden voice, and Arthur thought, with a twinge, that Merlin did not know the significance of the prince's name. He nodded, throat dry, heart pounding.
He could tell Merlin was about to say something, but he held up a hand weakly.
"Please, there is something I must tell you, old friend."
Looking slightly confused, Merlin pulled up a chair and sat down.
A pale hand outstretched, holding a crisp envelope addressed to the Court Sorcerer. "I wrote this a few weeks ago," Arthur rasped. "It's for you to read, and I only hope you can forgive us after reading it."
Confusion growing, Merlin slit open the envelope and took out the letter. Arthur closed his eyes as Merlin read silently, afraid to look at his face, for he knew what that letter said.
Dear Idiot -
Well, this is it. I won't be around much longer, and I can not, will not, die with this secret locked away from you. I can only tell you how sorry I am that you didn't know until now, though (and you may disagree with me) it may have been for the best.
It starts many years ago. A young man from Ealdor came to a kingdom where magic was punishable by death, as decreed by King Uther. This man was a warlock, and guarded his secret carefully, forced to hide it from his own friends, who, unknown to them, the warlock constantly saved from various threats. He became the servant to the prince by saving the prince's life.
The prince and the warlock did not get along at first, for the prince was young(only a few years older than the warlock) and arrogant, but over time, their insults lacked any ill meaning and became the norm. The prince became less arrogant and pompous. It was common knowledge that the prince pretended to dislike his servant, but really they were close as brothers. The only part was, the prince, having been raised by Uther, wrongly believed magic to be evil. His servant bravely used magic constantly to save the prince and even the kingdom, but could not tell the prince because he was afraid of dying at his friend's hand.
The years went by, and the prince inevitably became king. His servant remained his secret protector, suffering losses over and over, but still showing up to work every day with a smile.
Then, as the warlock had simultaneously hoped and feared, the king discovered his magic. I am sorry to say the king reacted badly at first. He threw the warlock in the dungeons, not even hearing him out, dwelling on the so-called betrayal of his best friend.
After the second night after the discovery, the king was beginning to doubt himself. Having originally scheduled an execution, he delayed it and went down to the dungeons to speak to the warlock, perhaps give him a second chance, because despite his father's teachings, he desperately wanted to believe his friend was not evil. They had grown too close for the king to truly believe that. So, before he could change his mind, he made his way towards the dungeons to listen to the warlock's defense.
He never got the chance.
A witch, who had lived in the castle previously but, upon discovering she had magic, had turned against Uther, as well as all of his kingdom, attacked the city. The warlock, out of his unwavering loyalty, had not attempted to escape the dungeons, but upon hearing the attack, escaped with little effort. He joined the fight, and the witch was vanquished. He had saved the kingdom yet again.
But it came with a price.
No one knows how it happened. Most likely, it was a spell gone wrong. But the warlock shrank to a seven-year-old, his memories of every year since his seventh obliterated. He had no recollection of his new home, only of Ealdor.
Fortunately, he slept for several days. During that time, he was returned to his mother in Ealdor. Meanwhile, the king repealed the ban on magic, for the warlock had proved that magic is only as evil as the user.
The warlock got a second chance. He got the childhood his mother had always wanted for him, free from fear of the pyre or soldiers marching into the village and dragging him out. My understanding is the whole village played along, probably out of guilt from the hard life they had given the warlock before.
Just like before, he was sent to Camelot as a teenager. The king was alerted when he was coming. When he saw his old friend in the marketplace who no longer recognized him, he did a rather selfish thing. He acted as arrogant as he had when he was younger, hoping the warlock would stand up to him as he had before, and was not surprised when that was just what the warlock did.
He then made it so that the warlock got a job as his servant. As I say, he was being rather selfish. He was trying to recreate the circumstances as the first time around, hoping he would get his old friend back, and that, maybe, he could make up for what he had done even had a dragon tell him of his destiny, as it had happened previously. It kind of worked. The warlock's personality was very similar, but not the same, for he had not suffered the same losses, he had not had to keep a life-threatening secret, he had not helped his two best friends realized they loved each other and other little things.
The king knew he should be happy he was even friends with the warlock this time around. But it was still hard sometimes to know his friend from before was never coming back.
In the end, though, the warlock finally got what he deserved: he was named Court Sorcerer and adviser to the king, and was recognized as the hero he was.
I know I'm a coward for not telling you before. But all the happiness you got, you earned, and I didn't want to rip that away. New Merlin got everything Old Merlin had worked for. You see why I hid it, right? I don't have the excuse you had, I couldn't say I couldn't tell you for fear of death. But, to be honest, that never really was your true fear, was it, Merlin? Your true fear was dying with me hating you. Losing a friend. And that's what I was afraid of.
Gaius used to spend hours in the library, looking through the library. But he concluded that your memories from before have been destroyed, at the very least ripped away from you.
I know I'm going to die soon. If all this hadn't happened, you might be dead or dying as well from old age, like me. But it did. We both have to face that. Don't get me wrong, though, I may have made all this sound like a bad thing, but don't go thinking that you have been any less of a friend to me, or that I appreciate you any less. You're still Merlin. And both Merlins I know earned their spot as my Court Sorcerer.
I guess what I wanted to say, apart from offering you the explanation you deserve, was that even though you don't remember, I wasn't going to execute you all those years ago. My anger would have died down and I wouldn't have been able to do it. And maybe one of the reasons I was so affected by you losing your memory was because the old you never knew that. Old Merlin pretty much did have his fears come true; he died thinking I would never forgive him. And now I can't correct him. So I've tried to make it up to him the best way I can, by becoming your friend again. But it's not the same. I know because everyday I look at you and I still feel guilty. By Gods, I wanted to kill you at one point! If you cannot even imagine that now, maybe I have made it up to you, at least some.
Just know that, no matter if you forgive me or not, both for lying and for sentencing you to death, as I lay on my deathbed, my thoughts will be of my closest friends and family, and that includes you.
Both of you.
0o0
The paper in his hands was shaking, it might rip soon. But Merlin didn't see that. It didn't see anything except the little black words traced onto the parchment, and the brutal truths they held. This was ridiculous. Maybe Arthur had gone senile in his old age. This couldn't be true.
But it was. He knew it was.
He didn't know what to feel. Anger was making itself known, but it didn't have a specific target. It certainly wasn't towards Arthur, or really anyone.
Maybe it was just at the world, at fate, for doing this to him.
It was, as Arthur had mentioned, both good and bad. One life had been torn away, another replaced. And once he was able to calm down his frantic mind, Merlin realized that's what he was feeling: grief for Old Merlin, happiness for the life that New Merlin got, and just plain being overwhelmed by it all.
He gripped the parchment tightly. His emotions had already been strained of late because of Arthur's condition. Adding this did not help.
His magic sensed his turmoil and rose to his aid. There's nothing, Merlin wanted to tell it, they're gone. The memories are gone.
His magic seemed to take that as a challenge. It may have been thought impossible, but not for nothing was Merlin called the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth. His magic burst from him, reaching, searching, trying to answer Merlin's unconscious order of bring me back what's mine.
And, somehow, unbelievably, they found it. Every recollection that had been wiped from him on that fateful day. And with it came a surge of emotions. Losing Will. Losing Freya. Losing Balinor. The lying. The dangerous game he played with Morgana, and then with Agravaine. The close calls. Uther as king. Arthur being a prat...
And slowly, everything clicked into place. The white dragon was Aithusa. He'd hatched Aithusa. Kilgarrah was the first dragon he'd met. Balinor...Merlin's eyes burned. Arthur had named his son after Merlin's father. Uther. Merlin had accidentally killed Uther. Morgana. Merlin had poisoned her.
He realized he was stiff as a board. He blinked, trying to hold back the flow of memories, already feeling drowned by them. To hold them at bay, he tuned back in to the scene in front of him.
His heart jumped, and then started racing. He didn't know how long it had taken him to read the letter, but Arthur's eyes had closed and he was almost matching his sheet.
"Arthur?" Merlin found his voice had gone rather high. "Arthur, wake up."
The king didn't respond.
"Arthur!" The name came out as a sob. "Please, Arthur, you have to wake up!" He leaned in closer, desperate for his friend to hear him.
"Arthur, you dollophead, listen to me. I remember! Did you hear that? I remember, and I forgive you!"
At the word 'dollophead', which New Merlin had never used in his life, he thought he saw the king stir slightly, but the next second, the sorcerer's hands found the royal's wrist, and there was no steady beat of a pulse.
When Reldor and Balinor entered the room a few minutes later, they found the Court Sorcerer frozen in his spot next to the king's bed, tears marring his face, and whispering, apparently unconsciously, the same words over and over.
"I forgive you...I forgive you..."