On Craggy Shores
The sky was grey- not dark, but grey, thin clouds covering the wan sun, white light illuminating the waves that lapped against the shore. Sea spray blew across, dancing and skipping over the rocks dotting the sand, and the air was thick with salty mist. The young man stood, half facing the water, knowing- sensing- the arrival of another.
He nodded without turning, and felt rather than heard the sound of the other figure sitting against a boulder.
"It is time," Merlin said, joining the man who was now sitting- though man was a bit of a stretch in describing him. He was tall, thin, covered in black robes, revealing only a face. It was old, but hard, and forgettable; once you turned, you would be hard pressed to describe it, or identify it.
But Merlin always knew. He sat, and looked, and accepted. The chess board was as they had left it in their last meeting, a few scant weeks prior. They fell into the same rhythm, passing the seconds in silence, taking the occasional piece, but making no true advances.
"I've been waiting." More silence passed, he watched the board without really seeing it. "You are improving," the man said finally. Merlin glanced up without breaking his stride in the game.
"And you still manage to have the advantage."
"I will always win."
Merlin brought forth his knight, taking the man's rook. "Then why do I play?"
The question was rhetorical, and the man said nothing. The man brought his bishop to check Merlin's king, but it was captured by the warlock's pawn.
"You have not used your Queen yet," the man commented, taking the knight that had taken his rook.
"No. I haven't." He hadn't needed to but he left that unsaid, not revealing his strategy. It would not be tempted out by a second check, issued from the man's own Queen. The pawn steadfastly stayed by the King and the knight, the three pieces Merlin had moved the most.
Seconds slipped by, and time lost its meaning with the sun stuck up behind the clouds, and the waves cresting the shoreline, never bigger than a gentle sway.
All was peaceful on the board, and the man placed his hands in his lap, ending his turn and the progress they had made.
"So once again, we end in balance. I suppose I shall be seeing you again."
"And for many times after that," Merlin vowed, standing.
"For your time has not yet reached its end." The man pointedly aimed his gaze at the cluster of three pieces on Merlin's side. No movement was made to clear the board, and no wind or rain or sweeping tide would upset its players.
"I shall warn you once more," the man continued, "you cannot delude yourself further. Choose what you will, I shan't force your hand, but you know what you must confess to yourself."
"I've known that for quite some time," Merlin conceded. He looked down at his hands, covered in leather gauntlets supple enough to act as a second skin. His normal attire was now richer, finer- all in shades of grey, but sturdy on his frame. Noble.
When he looked up, the man was gone. His eyes shuttered for a moment, and he released a long, relieved breath.
And now he was staring at the walls of his room. The anxiety that was curiously absent during his game- which, by all means should have been present- caused his heart to race a little. It was so strange that, though he was a poor chess player in real life, in that dream he knew exactly what moves to play, what sacrifices to make. His thoughts tuck on the other knight, that he had to give up, and on the man's Queen that he could never quite ensnare. And his own Queen, that he refused to play just yet. As the dream faded, he could see a vague pattern fading behind his eyes, of his Queen sweeping the board of nearly every of his opponent's pieces.
All around him were the sounds of Camelot coming to life. Arthur would need to be woken soon, and Gaius would need him to run errands. He would foil plots, keep his magic under wraps, and come across as the idiot everyone thought he was. Such an odd, striking contrast to the tranquility- and even power- he felt in those dreams.
The man's words echoed as the dream faded. His voice was conjured even when Merlin could not see his face any longer, and he brought his hands together, one fisted in the other and looked at them, feeling a rush of heady, intoxicating power- like he could scale a mountain.
He would play that game for a long, long time- he would not lose, could not. Not with that Queen sitting, waiting, hidden and protected, full of justice and unlimited potential. He would play until the stalemate, facing his opponent every few weeks, after every major turn. He would play until the board was worn and all the pieces were gone.
"I… I am Emrys they call Merlin… and I play chess with Death."
A/N: I do remember now that they referenced this scene, with Arthur in season one, but honestly, I had forgotten about that until afterwards. This is shamelessly from The Seventh Seal, a fantastic film that I highly recommend to anyone and everyone. I can absolutely see Merlin living by keeping himself in balance with Death. He is so powerful that, in order to keep his life, he must prove himself. Which he does, of course. I also quite enjoy this hidden, noble Merlin, who is truly a powerful person- in talent and in his choices.
See if you can guess who or what the pieces represent. I've probably made it fairly obvious. Anyway, I've had a lot of fun writing this- it's a nice break from writing papers. :D