Hi, here's the first chapter of my Merlin story. Sorry for not posting for a month, got stuck on most of my stories for awhile as well as everything being busy due to having gone camping awhile back. Hope you all like it! This is what I made up to happen after the last episode of Merlin at the end of the series and I will keep writing it and eventually posting it. So spoilers for the end of the bbc Merlin show. It was so sad, so I'm writing a long story continuing it to a happier less depressing ending.
Thanks for reading! Have a nice day!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
He watched tearfully as the boat under his enchantment moved itself further out into the water, carrying the once and future king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon.
He lifted his hand, trying to prepare himself to cast the fire spell onto the boat that had straw and the lifeless body of not just his king...but his best friend.
He tried to calm his crying so he could say the spell; but his heart hurt and didn't, couldn't stand this.
All these years he'd done so much to protect and serve his friend, and yes, sure Kilgara had told him that Arthur would rise again when Albion needed him most, but people didn't just live again later, and The great dragon had always been a fan of riddles. Merlin assumed that Kilgara meant the sentence as in the stories that they now could continue to share with the world to keep the king's story and legacy alive.
But that had never been how Merlin had imagined it to play out.
Merlin began to sob harder, and he lowered his hand as he watched the boat float away, unlit.
He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.
Even if he'd managed to do it for his other close friends, like Lancelot, he just couldn't bring himself to do it for Arthur.
Merlin stared out at the boat, remembering the king's last moments with him. Arthur had said thank you for all the thing Merlin had done for him in secret with his magic, and he'd forced Merlin to stop walking and just sit down in the grass with him as the injured King spoke.
Merlin cried harder. If only there had been some way to prevent Mordred from doing this. And with all the danger with the war, who knows who else was lost from them forever. Despite the fact that he'd seen both his deceased father's ghost in the Crystal cave, and that he'd seen Freya's ghost on several occasions, including not long ago when he'd thrown Excalibur into the lake of Avalon, and Freya had caught it and had taken it down into the water to protect it. Plus they'd seen Uther's ghost and many others.
Merlin was crying so hard that he collapsed to his knees. What would he do without his best friend? How could he face everyone back in Camelot if he had to go back and explain? And what was he even going to do now? He'd spent so many years working and protecting and fooling around with Arthur...and he was...gone.
Merlin wiped at his tears and glanced up in the direction of the boat, but he could barely see it now, especially when his tears continued to fall, making his eyesight blurry.
Merlin knew he had to go back to Camelot, he knew Gaius would get worried and that he had people waiting for him to return...but he couldn't bring himself to do so. All he could think of was Arthur.
Perhaps Kilgara was right, that he didn't fail in his destiny, since magic was likely not going to be banned for much longer with the likely chance that his actions with his magic would soon enough be shared, and he'd help Arthur until and while he was King. But it all felt too soon. He wanted more time. He wasn't ready to lose his King and best friend. He didn't want to lose him, but now he had.
The warlock sobbed as he sat there in the grass facing out towards the lake of Avalon for a long time until he was nearly falling to sleep.
Suddenly a bunch of vivid images appeared in his mind. Startled, Merlin's eyes shot open, but the images did not disappear.
He saw Gwen, on the throne, being crowned after Sir Leon announced that the king was dead.
After that he suddenly saw a huge metal motorized vehicle of some sort drive rapidly across a road. As the truck passed, Merlin saw an old man, himself, just wearing some strange different clothes, walking along the side of the street. He looked as lonely and sad as Merlin felt now, only the man barely stopped as he passed what appeared to be the very same spot in which the young warlock was sitting at this very moment, only it all looked different...and almost as it this was...the future...?
And with that the strange visions disappeared, leaving the Warlock teary eyed as he pushed himself up onto all fours as he glanced up at the lake.
Of course he could keep Arthur alive through their shared stories, if he went around sharing them with people, but he wasn't ready for this, and it was far too soon for Arthur to be gone.
If only there had been some way he could've gotten Arthur to the lake on time and to the island.
Why had he let Arthur make him stop?
Merlin sobbed harder as he knelt in the field by the lake of Avalon, his tiredness growing, making the young Warlock start drifting off into a deep sleep.
The boat glided peacefully through the lake, despite how it carried the lifeless body of King Arthur.
It glided through the water at a fast but steady, graceful pace, thanks to the spell Merlin had cast onto it.
Eventually the boat disappeared into the fog, vanishing from the sight of the mourning young Warlock who was quietly drifting to sleep, exhausted from all the rushed journey to try to save the dying king...but only to end up with failure. Maybe he'd fulfilled his destiny, but with Arthur's death so soon, it felt like it was failure. Even if magic was most likely returned to the Kingdom.
Suddenly the boat, hit into the edge of the island that was in the middle of the lake, as it's spell had slowly worn off as it continued on through the water, when normally they boat would stop as the fire would burn it.
But Merlin had not been able to bring himself to light it.
At this point, the sun had started to set, the boat rocked slightly but remained trapped at the edge of Avalon.
Whilst Merlin was asleep on the shore, a figure hidden in the shadows on the Island walked purposefully towards the boat.
The figure paused as a bright blue ball of light flew beside them; the blue light, which was a small blue humanoid creature called a Sidhe was speaking to the cloaked figure.
After a few moments the Sidhe followed the person whom was hidden in the shadows, who continued to walk, slowly getting closer to the small boat.
The Sidhe and the cloaked figure seemed to glance down at the fallen king, who lay motionless on the boat that was filled with straw.
"We're lucky Emrys failed to burn the body. There is still hope yet for the Albion that we have all dreamed of. The king was meant to meet his end at Camlan, but it's far too soon for him to fall just yet." A female voice whose face was hidden with her cloak and the shadows.
"Perhaps that's easy for you to say. But we Sidhe have been long awaiting the time of the King's spirit would be here, as we once attempted to get as a price for another of ours' passage back to Avalon after her father had committed a terrible crime, by killing another Sidhe. And that didn't work out, because of this Emrys. What can your powers do to equivalent such a price?" The Sidhe asked disdainfully.
"Perhaps it's not just I that will be needing to pay the price. But even so, look at all that has been lost these passed few days, and longer. So many have perished in attempt to save this man. Is all that meaningless? Does that not hold a significant amount of the price to be paid for the King's life?" The girl asked firmly.
"Perhaps..." The Sidhe replied, as true the girl's words were, most of the Sidhe still weren't very happy that they'd lose such an expensive price; the soul of the Once and Future King of Camelot. Arthur Pendragon.
The girl nodded meaningfully.
"Obviously you will receive some sort of price, but we have yet to discover what that will be and if this will even work." The girl assured him.
The Sidhe nodded grudgingly and turned away to speak to another Sidhe, as the girl cautiously move closer to the lake, reaching for the boat.
She pulled the boat as close as she could, carefully reaching to grasp ahold of the fallen King's body, in attempt to move it, and take it into a small tower in the centre of Avalon.
There they would do everything in their power to ensure the next step to creating the Time Of Albion a reality rather than a dream or vision.
"Fear not. Whatever happens you'll get your payment, and eventually you will have the King's soul as you so desire. But it's not quite his time. We have a chance to give Emrys back his friend. It's only fair considering how hard he's worked to get us this far; this close to the times of Albion, to the times where my kind and everyone like me can be free once again. It would help you all gain some more freedom as well."
"And how do you intend to accomplish this?" The Sidhe asked.
"It cannot be done without the help of you Sidhe. The piece of sword imbedded in the King's chest was forged in a dragon's breath. Only your powers can save him. I can only hope that Emrys and I can come up with a fair price in exchange for your help. Only Sidhe magic can save him now, but if all the sacrifices that have been made already cannot equivalent the King's life, then Emrys and I will have to come up with an answer. For all those sacrifices, I don't see how it could possibly fail to save the King." She replied.
"We shall see." The Sidhe relied darkly.
The girl nodded, glancing back across the lake of Avalon just for a moment, before they moved the King's lifeless body into the small tower.
"Wake up, Emrys." The girl spoke, using magic to reach the sleeping Warlock on the other side of the lake. "It's not yet time to give up. Meet me here as soon as you've rested enough. And...thank you Emrys. You've given us all a chance at freedom. You've done well."
In his sleep the young Warlock's tears had stopped, and he stirred in his sleep as he heard the words in his mind, from a voice he didn't recognize, but he didn't awaken quite yet. Even though he wasn't sure who the voice what coming from or what they meant, he didn't want to wake up, he didn't want to wake up and have to head back to Camelot with only the news that he had not been able to save Arthur from Mordred.
But nevertheless, a few moments afterwards, the young Warlock's eyes shot open, and he felt a surge of magic power from somewhere.
Merlin wiped away some of his remaining tears and sat up, glancing around the lake. His blue eyes seemed to be drawn to the island in the middle of the lake of Avalon. He squinted slightly, as he wondered what the familiar magic he was sensing could be.
Merlin pushed himself up off the ground, and looked towards the tower on the island, feeling as if the magic power he sensed...was calling him perhaps?
He couldn't be sure, but he figured it could give him something to do to get more time to himself before he'd have to return to Camelot...
Merlin fought back his tears as he walked towards the edge of the water, and he glanced around for a boat, as he wondered whether he should even bother with finding out what the strange feeling was.
Then, behind the trees, partially buried in dirt and grass, he spotted a small rowboat.
He focused hard on the boat and his eyes lit up and the boat became unburied and he went over to it and hauled it into the water. He hesitated for a moment, still not entirely sure whether he should do this, or even what exactly he was even doing. But after a moment he climbed into the boat.
"Yeseeyle." Merlin spoke quietly, causing the boat to start to move forward on its own, towards the island in the middle of the lake.
He gripped the the boat tightly and looked down into the water, trying to hold it together and not break down crying again.
But looking down into the lake only made the sorcerer think of all the people he'd had to send here for their funerals when they'd died.
Freya, Lancelot, and Ar-
Merlin shook his head, trying to will the depressing thoughts away. But as he did so, he couldn't help but wonder if he looked deep enough into the water then, perhaps, he could possible spot Freya's spirit or any of his lost friends who'd been taken here after they'd died, and he imagined what it would be like if he'd gotten the chance to speak with any of them. After all, he had seen Freya's spirit on several occasions, including today when he'd thrown Excalibur back into the lake. She was always there when it came to dealing with the sword.
Merlin glanced up, as the small boat approached the island.
Is the island or the lake itself the gate to Avalon? Merlin wondered as he neared his destination.
Merlin thought about the things he'd seen in his mind when he'd been on the shore, Gwen becoming queen, and himself in some far away future walking passed this very place.
He felt tears sting his eyes, but as the boat came to a stop as he reached the island, Merlin wiped them away, and after some hesitation, he climbed out of the boat.
He tried to focus on simply walking instead of anything else. It was all too painful to think about.
But as he walked along the shore, his heart skipped a beat as he saw the boat; it wasn't tipped over, and it was still filled with straw, but the lifeless body of his friend, was gone.
Merlin's eyes were wide with surprise as he stared down at the boat, trying to guess what could've happened.
Merlin used his magic, causing his eyes to light up gold, and his vision changed as he could see as if he was running along the paths of the island trying to stop anyone or anything that could've done any of this.
He took a deep shaky breath as he spotted a cloaked figure and a Sidhe leaving with the dead king.
Who and what were they doing?
Merlin broke into a run, following the path he had looked ahead on, following the exact trail he'd seen the other two beings going, taking the fallen king's body with them.
Merlin could faintly recall whom he was sure had been Gaius, or possibly Kilgara, that the Sidhe were the only ones whose power could possibly save the young king of Camelot, due to the shard of a sword that was forged in the dragon's breath, making it have the ability to slay anyone, even if they were immortal or even if they were already dead.
Merlin ran faster. He didn't know what they were doing, but why would they take Arthur? Despite their powers, Arthur was...already gone. Kilgara had said it had been his time and it had been too late to save the king.
But nevertheless, Merlin let a sliver of hope enter his aching heart as he ran as fast as he could through the fields, until he was standing right outside a tower.
He sensed some kind of familiar magic from inside, and slowly, the young Warlock stepped closer to its doors, and entered the tower.