Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.
I thought it was time to get something posted. I've been struggling to write so much lately, but churned something out! I've had quite a few notifications come through on old stories the last few days, so it seemed like a good time to start posting.
I hope you enjoy this story! It is set after 4x02, but before 4x03.
Merlin stood in a daze, staring out of Arthur's window. His unfocused eyes didn't see anything though; he was too tired. Ever since they had saved Camelot, ever since they had lost Lancelot, Arthur had been determined to find Morgana.
They knew she was responsible for tearing the veil. There was no other explanation. What they didn't know, however, was why she had done it. She couldn't rule a ghost kingdom. Merlin decided she had become desperate – the loss of Morgause had left her without a direction or a plan and she would do anything to cause chaos.
Despite not having that insight, Arthur had reached the same conclusion and was determined to find her. Uther hadn't blinked when Arthur had returned and it had fuelled the prince further. Morgana hadn't tried to destroy Camelot; she had destroyed the king and that was not something Arthur could forgive.
They were all exhausted though. They had returned late last night from a three-day expedition scouring the eastern woods and Merlin couldn't remember the last time he had spent the entire night in his bed. There was either an emergency or Arthur insisted on riding out himself, despite having guards, knights and countless others to do that for him. If Arthur went, Merlin was there by his side as usual.
Hearing a noise behind him snapped Merlin out of his daydream. His hand jerked, wiping the cloth across Arthur's armour before he focused on the noise and turned around. Arthur was standing up, his face drawn but resigned. Merlin knew what he was going to say and threw down his cloth.
"No."
"Excuse me?" Arthur didn't have the energy to sound annoyed and that strengthened Merlin's conviction. He strode across the room until he was in front of the prince. He was also blocking the door, but they both knew if Arthur wanted to leave, Merlin couldn't stop him.
"You can't ride out again, Sire," Merlin continued, his voice soft. "You can barely stand."
"I have to set an example."
"The men already admire and respect you. What sort of example would it set if you fell off your horse due to exhaustion?"
"Don't be absurd, Merlin. I have more stamina than that." But Arthur's voice was wavering and he couldn't meet Merlin's eye. Merlin knew that he was getting through to the man. He put a hand on his shoulder and gently guided Arthur back to his seat. The fact that Arthur let it happen spoke volumes.
"You need to get some rest, Arthur," Merlin said. Arthur shook his head.
"I have to find her." Arthur's voice was soft and quiet, but heavy with emotion. He looked and sounded far older than he was. Merlin knew the feeling too well and hated that Arthur was experiencing the same. It was his job to protect his destiny – and not just from physical threats.
"Why?" Merlin asked cautiously. "You know she wants you dead."
"There has to be part of her still in there," Arthur muttered. "Some part that I can reach, that I can get through to. I can't give up on her."
This time, it was Merlin who couldn't look Arthur in the eye. He had hoped he was wrong about Morgana for so long, fighting to see the good in her. He had to believe it still existed…but not at the cost of his destiny. Morgana thought she was entitled to the throne and Arthur was one of the few standing in her way. Whatever good still existed was overshadowed by her ambition.
"A good warrior always knows when to retreat," Merlin said softly. Arthur looked up sharply, recognising his own words, but then he exhaled and slumped. It was as if all the fight had left him and he rested his head in his hands.
"How did we get here?" he murmured. Merlin had no answer though. Satisfied that he had got through to Arthur and the man wouldn't attempt any further expeditions for a day or so, he stood. Stroking the fire and lighting the candles, Merlin turned Arthur's chambers into a warm and comfortable place before folding down the bed.
"I'll get you some dinner," he said, knowing he didn't have time to prepare anything from scratch. Besides, he thought Arthur deserved something from the kitchens rather than Merlin's attempts. He needed something to make him feel content and sleepy – something to give him a good night's sleep.
Arthur nodded and Merlin slipped out. For a moment, he paused, leaning against the wall and trying to clear his mind. He hated seeing Arthur looking this defeated. The kingdom needed him now more than ever.
But it was more than that. Arthur wasn't just his prince and master, he was his friend. Merlin wished there was something he could do other than a hot meal to stop him from looking so haunted. He knew Lancelot's death weighed as heavily on Arthur as it did on Merlin. He also knew, however, that only time could heal grief.
Merlin pushed himself upright and headed towards the kitchens. If he could get Arthur settled for the evening, he would be able to return to Gaius and get a good night sleep himself. He also wanted to check on his mentor. Staying in the caves had weakened the physician, although Gaius would never admit it. The prince was not the only one who was tired.
Merlin walked the familiar corridors lost in thought. It was late and the normal bustle of servants had dwindled to a mere handful on last minute errands for their masters before they retired for the night. No one looked surprised to see Merlin and he would have smiled at the thought if he had the energy.
Just before he reached the kitchens, he turned into a deserted corridor. For a wild few seconds, Merlin thought he had taken a wrong turn. All the candles had been extinguished and the only light came from the moon filtering through a couple of windows. But then Merlin checked and knew he was in the right place.
"Hello?" he called, edging carefully into the corridor. It was chilly and Merlin scolded himself for being paranoid. A draft had clearly blown the candles out and because it was late, no one had bothered relighting them.
Shaking off his unease, Merlin set off. The sooner he returned to Arthur, the sooner he could get to bed. But when he was halfway down the corridor, Merlin stopped again. His quickened heartbeat matched the sound of footsteps hurrying up behind him.
Merlin started to turn, but a force shoved him between the shoulder blades and he stumbled. Throwing out his hands to break his fall, Merlin gasped as a solid weight slammed into his back, holding him against the wall. The stone was cold through his thin shirt and Merlin tried to buck backwards, attempting to alleviate the pressure on his chest.
He needed to catch his breath, clear his mind and use magic to deal with the problem. But before he could do either, a hand fisted in his hair. Merlin cried out in pain, twisting. A large man in guard's uniform was standing behind him but there was a vacant look in his eye. He didn't look as if he knew what he was doing…as if he had been enchanted.
His magic swelled and Merlin blasted the man away from him, being careful not to hurt him. This wasn't the guard's fault – Merlin recognised magic when it stared him in the face. He turned, only one thought lodged in his head: get back to Arthur.
But as he set off down the corridor, a hand snagged his ankle. Believing the guard to be unconscious meant he wasn't prepared and Merlin fell heavily. He tried to break his fall, but his wrist crumbled under him and he crashed down onto the stones with a yell. His head struck a glancing blow against the stone and Merlin felt his vision weave.
Before he knew what was happening, the guard was on top of him. This time, Merlin couldn't focus, couldn't defend himself as the man slammed his head down again.
All thoughts left Merlin's mind and his body slumped. He clung to consciousness, knowing that he had to protect Arthur. Hands grabbed him under the shoulders and Merlin felt himself being dragged along the darkened corridor.
He tried struggling, but his vision was spinning and dark spots littered it. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. When they came to a stop, Merlin couldn't stop a whimper escaping him as the guard unlocked a broom cupboard.
Merlin attempted to crawl back the way he had come. But the guard grabbed him with ease, throwing him into the cupboard. The final impact was too much for Merlin and darkness overwhelmed him.
Just before he lost consciousness, he heard the cupboard locking.
Arthur was in danger! He had to do something. He had to get out of here and…
Merlin passed out.
MMM
As soon as Merlin had left, Arthur stood and took up his servant's position by the window. Normally, gazing over his kingdom calmed him and settled his troubled thoughts, but not today. Now, he only saw what he had nearly lost and the price they had all paid to win Camelot back again.
Arthur had been taught to be loyal to those closest to him. He had always tried to live by those principles – it was why he refused to be named regent despite fulfilling a regent's role. He believed his father would get better and he refused to undermine the king.
When Morgana had first vanished, they had searched night and day for her. Arthur believed that was what he should be doing now, although what he wold do if they found her, he had no idea. He didn't know if he wanted to arrest her or just plea with her.
But, deep down, he knew that Merlin was right. The Morgana he knew was gone, and it was foolish to seek an enemy who wished him dead. More than anything, Arthur wanted answers. What had he ever done to her to make her feel that way? Or was it all about the throne?
Sighing, he leant against the wall, resting his head against the stone. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired, and that included when he had over-trained as a young boy in order to impress his father. Uther might have noticed him for the first time that day, but Gaius had been furious. The memory made Arthur smile.
Hearing the door open behind him, Arthur glanced over his shoulder.
"I thought you were bringing me dinner?"
"You have to ride out," Merlin said. Arthur turned to face him. His manservant looked a little off, but Arthur couldn't place his finger on what was different. He frowned at the man. It was his eyes, Arthur decided. The usual spark – whether it be excitement, determination or plain irritation – that usually shone in Merlin's eyes was gone. They looked cold. Arthur turned back to hide his shudder.
"We've spoken about this. You made your position perfectly clear."
"You can't abandon your own," Merlin insisted. "Don't you have any sense of loyalty?"
Arthur spun around, furious. "Don't you dare," he growled. "Don't pretend you understand this."
Merlin didn't respond. He poured Arthur a goblet of wine, his back turned and his shoulders hunched. Then he thrust it at the prince, who took it begrudgingly.
Arthur took a sip, hoping that it would stop the argument in its tracks.
"Arthur-,"
He took a gulp this time to save himself from answering. Then he turned back to Merlin. He must have spun too quickly as a wave of dizziness overcame him.
"Are you feeling alright, Sire?" The coldness was in Merlin's voice now and when Arthur looked at him, he saw that his servant was smirking. It wasn't the usual smirk that crossed his face when Arthur admitted that Merlin had been right about something all along. It was sinister and Arthur blinked, trying to get his gaze to focus.
But as he tried to take a step forward, his legs buckled and lethargy washed over him. He put out a hand, thankfully finding the table-top and clutching at it as he tried to focus.
He looked at the cup and thought about the strange aftertaste.
"What have you done?" He muttered, his voice slurring. Merlin shrugged, sitting on top of the table and crossing his legs.
"Something I should have done a long time ago," he said. Slowly, almost casually, he reached over and shoved Arthur's hand from the table. Arthur's knees gave way and he fell. At the last minute, he put out a hand and managed to remain kneeling. He refused to collapse at Merlin's feet, even if the room was now swaying alarmingly. Tiredness oozed from every fibre of his being and it was taking all of Arthur's will-power to keep his eyes open.
"Merlin?"
"Arthur!"
The door crashed open with an almighty bang. Arthur blinked and stared. Merlin was standing in the doorway.
But Merlin was also sitting on the table.
By the time he blinked again, the action getting slower and harder every time he did it, one of the Merlin's was crouched beside him, his hand on his forehead. Arthur looked up and knew instantly that this was his Merlin. There was dried blood down the side of his face and he looked pale, but that spark was burning brightly in his eyes.
"Wha-?" Arthur slurred, looking back at the table. Merlin followed his gaze and stood.
"What have you done to him? Who are you?"
"Oh but Merlin," the figure said, "I'm you."
Arthur forced himself to sit up straighter. There was something familiar about those mocking words, the way they were delivered…
"Morgana," Merlin whispered and Arthur's suspicions were confirmed. The fake Merlin gave a cold laughter and his hand twisted sharply in the air. The door shut and Arthur heard the lock catch. At the same time, the candles and fire were out, leaving the room lit only by moonlight. Arthur shivered and hoped no one saw him.
"I won't let you hurt him," Merlin said. Arthur looked up at him even as he fought to remain conscious. He should be defending Merlin, not the other way around.
The figure on the table hopped down and the air around him shimmered. As Arthur watched, his servant transformed into his sister.
"I don't think you have a say in it," Morgana said, her voice like icy shards that penetrated Arthur's heart. Before Merlin could make a come-back, Morgana's hand shot out and a harsh word tore from her lips.
Merlin was thrown off his feet, hitting the wall. Arthur watched in horror as his feet left the floor and Merlin's hands rose to his throat. As he choked, hands clawing at invisible magic, Arthur realised that Morgana was strangling him. Judging by how hard Merlin was struggling to breathe, she was succeeding.
Arthur looked around. His sword was on the other side of the room and in his disorientated state, he knew he would never make it across the room without Morgana stopping him. But she was standing next to him, clearing not expecting Arthur to offer any resistance now she had drugged him. The potion was strong, Arthur could feel it coursing through his veins.
But he had also had enough of people underestimating him.
Grunting with the effort, he threw himself forward. He caught Morgana around the knees, sending them both tumbling to the ground. A blast of magic caught him in the chest, sending him flying back. Arthur landed on his back, completely winded with dark spots dancing in his vision. But he could hear Merlin take a few rasping breaths and knew that, for now, Merlin was still breathing.
Arthur rolled over onto his knees. Keeping low, he used the table for cover as he crawled across the room towards his servant. One glance told him that Morgana was still trying to regain her breath from the unexpected fall.
"Merlin?" Arthur whispered, grabbing his servant's wrist and feeling for a pulse. It was thready and weak, but it was there. Merlin's eyes were shut and his head lolled limply from side to side when Arthur shook him.
Morgana's laugh filled his chambers. But gone were the days when it used to fill him with warm and pride. It was hollow and empty.
"This is your fault, Arthur," she said. Arthur heard her come closer and knew he should stand to face her. He couldn't. He was so tired of all of this, and knew it wasn't just the drug.
"Why are you doing this?" he said wearily. Morgana stopped next to him, her hand on his shoulder. Her nails dug in painfully.
"You are in my way, dear brother. I've already destroyed our father. Once I have broken you, Camelot will be mine."
Arthur let out a weak laugh. "If you think you will break me, then you never knew me."
"Everyone has a weakness, Arthur. And unfortunately for you, I know all of yours."
She gestured towards Merlin's prone form. He was still fighting for breath and Arthur knew he needed to get to Gaius. But the door was locked and Arthur knew this was what Morgana wanted.
"He's just a servant," Arthur said quietly. "I understand if you want me dead. But why Merlin?"
"There is so much you don't know," Morgana said. "Poor Arthur, always running blindly into situations just because his father told him to."
"Like you're any different," Arthur said, anger helping clear his mind. "Always challenging him just so he would notice you."
Morgana's fingers tightened painfully on his shoulder.
"I was naïve. Not anymore. Now I am powerful, and Camelot will have a powerful ruler."
Before Arthur could say anything, Morgana began chanting. Dark words filled his chambers and his head and Arthur realised that his rooms were vanishing before him. The last thing he saw was Merlin's unconscious body before he was sucked into the darkness.
