In the Hands of the Cold Future
Summary: Merlin is sent, unwillingly; back to the past.
Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine. I just use this world's characters to amuse myself when I'm bored. No harm in that, right?
AUTHOR NOTES: Now. This is a unwilling!Peggy!sue type of story, I can't ever see myself writing het, as the main couple... soo~ this is most likely going to end in Merthur, because reasons. But this is not even remotely close, focused on romance. This is just Merlin being sent to the past, not really wanting to go to the past and the changes it causes, his new decisions. So yeah... there is that. Slash, probably; fifty chapters away and not so much the main focus.
WARNINGS: I don't have a BETA and I make the stupidest mistakes possible in the English language. So, feel free to point every mistake you see, just don't be an ass about it and I shall correct them when I can.
Chapter I: Looking Back.
Merlin appeared in the middle of nowhere with his sword still high. Trees surrounded him and something familiar that shouldn't be there, was. Merlin frowned and put his sword down cautiously, always looking with both (his human and magical) sights on, searching for the enemy; curiously though: the forest was silent, the trees were peaceful and the environment calm. He could almost cut his hand and say that he was in Ealdor. But how could that be possible? Ealdor's wood burned (killing everyone) after some unknown enemy decided to resurrect Nimueh and then command the bitch to unleash for the second time Cornelius Sigan, so they could ally themselves with Mordred and Morgana along their renegade group.
When war exploded, Arthur was heartbroken because Guinevere and Lancelot decided to elope after four years of a really hard marriage; this one betrayal was the punch that threw him to the ground to never stand up again; so he was more of a nuisance than help. By the time the queen and the first knight had left them, Merlin was playing pretend to be High King Arthur and trying in the best of his abilities to rule Camelot, while still being technically a servant. He didn't do much of service in those times, though. He did discover how much he hated giving orders to people.
Eventually Camelot's subjects took the hint and mysteriously began to call him Lord without much of a thought. Arthur's people realizing the futility of their actions began to addressing him directly; instead of the King whom had decided to lock himself up in his room, pretty much like his father; the former King had done before his demise, leaving the throne outright empty and begging for being claimed by their enemies. It was then when things began to spin out of control and he needed to take control of Camelot more officially. He revealed himself to be Emrys, Priest and Child of the Old Religion and with the power that title bestowed him; he declared that until Camelot's rightful King returned to the throne, it would his to keep.
No one even uttered a word. Half of the people cheered that they had a legal authority figure to fall to and the other half were too scared of him to protest his decision. In the long run everyone was ok with him being Camelot's keeper.
It became too much, right to the point where he wanted to kill himself… he had said so to Gaius when the pressure of being King of a Camelot destroyed by war, took his toll on him. His mentor just held him in those nightmarish nights, in the middle of the current breakdown; urging him to be strong… because he was what was left between Camelot and the evil: the first line of Camelot's defense. He was Emrys no more, he was now: Camelot's first line defense. He was Arthur's voice, panacea to the people; strategist to the army and commander to the Guild of Sorcerers that he created to counter strike the Evil Magic. He didn't know in how long he had not sleep more than three hours at night (when he was lucky). He literally was living by the force of magic…
His feet gave him away and he wound up in the ground and then he did what he had not allowed himself to do, since Arthur fell into catatonia; so many years ago. He cried, he cried like a little child; he cried for Will, for Morgana; for his mother, for Arthur; for Gwaine, for Gwen and Lancelot and for some many people that died in this pointless war.
He had cried until the sun was shining no more in the sky. He felt drained, emptiness taking possession of his body; like if anything could matter anymore. He felt like he had lost.
"Merlin! Merlin, hon! Answer me, baby! Where are you! Come on, sweetie!"
"Mum?" Merlin breathed and suddenly his rage flared. What kind of sick joke was this?
"Merlin! Thank the Gods, what are you still doing here with this weather? Are you trying to catch a cold?" Hunith looked at his son, his eyes were flaring gold; two swirling pools of gold were shimmering in fore of his deep blue eyes. "Honey, what are you doing?" The woman, pretending to be his mother said, hugging him and guarding his eyes from everyone's nosy view. "What I have told you about using your magic like this, Merlin Ambrosious?" Well, that was one point for his mother being there; only Arthur knew his middle name (and probably he had confessed it to Gwaine in one of his many drunken nights. "Merlin, have you been crying?" The voice concerned of his mother, the warm of her trepidation; her smell making him feels safe and in home made his tear ran free again. His head was a mess and hurt, it hurt so much that his vision flared white; he knew he was crashing and people suffered when he crashed and neither Gaius nor Gwaine were there to break his fall. He moaned in pain, his fell on his knees and then didn't know more of the world.
1
Hunith had never been so scared for Merlin in her life. She began to cry when his little baby began to writhe in so much pain and his powerful magic began to spin out of control that the only thing she could do was pray to the Gods of the Old Religion that gave her his baby that no one never found about what was happening and that whatever that was happening finish already. She felt her heart broke in little pieces when his beloved son passed out in her arms.
2
Merlin passed three days in a delirious state, in the second day; Hunith panicked and closed her house tight and tried to sort the situation the best she could. Thing flared, floated, exploded, morphed and Merlin was every of her waking hours; trashing and mumbling between terrible nightmares asking for forgiveness and for absolution, it was so heartbreaking; it was making her fret. When Merlin was in a pseudo restful state she had tried to feed him, he puked the food and then, without rest the nightmares began once again.
At the night of the third day, Hunith was tending his son and for the first time in those nightmarish three days, his son looked at her. She smiled, Merlin tried to emulate; before he could mold the smile, he passed out again. She feared that the cycle was to begin again, but Merlin slide into a peaceful rest; she felt that she could breathe again.
3
Merlin was trying to make out what the hell had happened. A few days ago he was breaking down, over the responsibilities of being "King" in the middle of the Great War while the real King was being his normal useless self, mourning his loved ones and now he was here, and even Will was alive and he didn't even have gray hair (not that he had many of those anyway, he wasn't that old!) How the hell did that happened? He had tried everything: scrying, asking to the spirits of the forest, opened a portal to Avalon and what he had got? Every single person he had asked, had looked at him the same way, as if he was crazy, which he wasn't; because he wasn't, so shut up!
"Merlin, hon, I can hear you think from here…" He heard that his mother told him. He could not help it; he smiled at her; that of course only made his Mother warier. "Everything's all right?"
"Everything is fine, Mother." Hunith frowned. The manner of speech of his son changed from one day to another without an explanation that she didn't know what to think anymore. It seemed like Merlin was beyond of his actual years, so wise and so tortured, always waiting for the other shoe to fall down, to wake up and the dream and be gone.
"Merlin, since when do you call me 'Mother'?"
"I…" Aha! There was his son, stuttering.
"Merlin, I know that something it's wrong… what is so wrong that you can't talk to me?"
"It is not that I do not want to talk to you, Mother. It is that I do not understand the situation myself."
"What situation, Merlin? There is not situation."
"So everyone say…" Merlin muttered, mutinous; under his breath. He still didn't believe he was not trapped in some sick illusion, and when he was able to break free: Morgana and Nimueh and Sigan and Mordred and that Bitch of Morgause were going to wish they were dead when he ended with them.
"Merlin! Your eyes!" Hunith scold her son, afraid that someone may see.
"Ceil an Dealraigh a Rocacha" The woman heard Merlin whisper. Without delay the golden in his eyes was swallowed by the black pupils that were dilated leaving a fine line of blue of the sight; even if it was middle day and the sun was shining strong.
"Who taught you to do that?" Merlin looked at his Mother absently with his fingers in his lips.
"No one, I create that myself." Was the curt answer he gave his mother and then he spun on his heels with his hands on his back, leaving the place.
4
"Merlin, I… this is hard but I have decided to send you to live with Gaius…" Merlin turned around abruptly and looked at his mother. Hunith felt that Merlin saw her soul in that moment.
"I don't want to go to Camelot." He made his mother know all defensive. Not again, not again! His head screamed, repeatedly.
"Merlin…"
"Mother, pardon me, but are you trying to get me killed? You do know that Uther Pendragon burn people like me, don't you?"
"You are getting careless with your magic Merlin. I am grateful for what have you done… but no more Merlin. I would not have you killed, just because you're a passing for a very late adolescent rebellion." That offended him, adolescent rebellion? He hadn't even had time to be a proper teenager when he had been forced to kill countless psycho sorcerers that wanted to destroy Camelot; he was bereft of his childhood and did somebody cared? No. The things he had to hear.
"And because of it, you are going to write my death sentence?" He snorted skeptical.
"No, I'm sending you to Camelot so you can learn what I have been trying to teach you."
"Stop lecturing, Mother." Merlin uttered jaded. Hunith bit the inside of her mouth. What had happened to his child? Her sweet, naïve Merlin… her son was now bitter and distant. The same way she had seen people who had come from war; people who had seen hell and lived to tell the tale.
"Gaius had already accepted. I'm not asking you Merlin. You are going to Camelot and learn some self-restrain; maybe being away from William and see what Uther does to people like you, my son; will make you less reckless."
"What will make me: it's going on a dark rampage to kill the bastard…" He didn't voice his thought, though. "As you wish, Mother; when shall I be going to my death?"
"Don't be petty, Merlin. I have taught you better than that and Gaius needs all the help he can get."
"I'm tired, mother. My head is hurting. Do you mind if I retire myself for the night?"
"What happened to you, my sweet, sweet child?" She conveyed hurt. Merlin's eyes became soft and he hugged his mother gently; trying to transmit all his love. He knew he had become cold, but he couldn't be that stupid Merlin again if he wanted to live and now that he didn't need to be that Merlin, he didn't know how to come back…
"Life happened, Mother. I have been to hell and spit back… good night." He explained her, the best he could and then kissed her on her temple to go and laid himself to look at the stars, trying to overcome the insomnia that was consequence years of war.
5
If Merlin didn't want to believe he was in the past, well… that was his wakeup call… Camelot was shimmering and in its prime. His heart bombed loudly when he looked at Arthur Pendragon bullying a servant. He was alive! The prat was alive and careless and young and laughing even if cruelly. He felt his eyes prickled and the tears built up in his eyes. He couldn't stand much more of that so he resumed his way to Gaius' quarters.
He arrived still feeling the tears; all those years suppressing his feeling must be catching with him at last. The sight of that door made him take a deep breath and he did his be to prepare himself to look at his mentor, years younger. He knocked the door politely three times and waited for permission to enter the physician's room.
"Come on in." He heard from inside the room, his gut were twisting and churning inside. He pushed the door open and the smell brought back violently flashes of his "first" timeline. He did his best to conceal the dizziness and decided to look at Gaius and smile.
"I'm Merlin, Hunith's son?" He said when their sights crossed. Understanding took possession of his wise eyes.
"Of course! Merlin, my boy! I was waiting for you! How is your mother?"
"She is in good health, constantly worrying about me, even if I tell her I'm fine. You know, mothers." The warlock smiled tenderly. He loved Gaius so much, it hurts… seeing him mentor there, so "young", very well… so hale and without worry shadowing upon his old shoulders. He wanted to hug the lights out of the physician, he restrained of course.
Gaius was surprised. When Hunith asked him for help, he was waiting for a disaster to cross that door… instead he gets a very polite child with wisdom beyond his years, engraved in his jaded deep blue eyes and a soft smile that seemed to be a little bit too glad to see him again. Merlin was too young to remember Gaius, it was something else.
"Well, here we are…" He said trying to break the awkward silence that befell the room.
"Indeed… goodness, let me show you, your room."
Merlin looked at the little room that he had not used in so many years: the uncomfortable and hard coat, the little window, the chunk where his kept his magic books, a nostalgic feeling took prey of him, he smiled.
"It's not much…"
"It's perfect Gaius." He interrupted the Physician before he could say anything else. His magic would made this room even more comfortable that the King's room, so he didn't care. "I don't need much. Do you want me to help you with something? I didn't bring much with me… ergh… you seem… somewhat surprised…" He couldn't resist asking, he knew that look very well.
"Well, to be honest, my boy; I was expecting someone more difficult."
"I can be difficult if you want." And with those words, his accent changed; it surprised him because it sounded like the tight and somewhat posh accent the court of Camelot had. The way the words rolled his tongue, was the same way the nobles spoke. But Merlin was no noble… when Merlin smirked, he saw the younger Pendragon for a moment and that disconcerted him again.
"Very funny, Merlin… I need you to help me to distribute some medicines… will you have any problem doing that?" He looked at the younger child suspicious.
"No, I think I can manage." Merlin smiled him to assure the old man.
"Very well, rest and familiarize yourself with the castle."
"Of course, Gaius."
6
Merlin was sitting on the steps of the terraces with a very mild spell that made him go unnoticed. He was watching Arthur and Leon fight, or better said: he was looking at Arthur beat Leon with his sword. He smirked gleefully. Behind the glamour that kept his blue eyes even when preforming magic, the gold gleamed and Arthur tripped giving Leon an opening. Everyone gasped when Leon actually won the fight. Merlin felt better with himself after that.
"Hello there, we saw you all alone and decided to come and introduce ourselves." The Warlock looked at his right from when the voice came from and he saw Morgana and Gwen, so young and so innocent. His eyes became bleak, so tangible that Gwen stammered.
"I'm the Court Physician apprentice…" He answered curt, but polite and then looked again to the field were the knights were doing their routine; repeating to himself that those weren't the people that made his life miserable.
"I'm Morgana and this is my good friend and maid, Guinevere." She introduced herself as promised, intercepting their sights. Merlin smiled in remembrance that was the Morgana he respected and adored; the woman that he once saw as an honorary sister and close friend.
"And he smiles!" Merlin chuckled at the antics of Morgana. "Well, it seems that the rumor mill it's wrong, as usual. You are quite famous between the maids, you know, Court Physician Apprentice".
"I'm in the rumor mill? Are the maids that desperate?" Merlin joked, giggling which surprised Morgana in a good way. By the gossip in the castle about 'Gaius' new boy' people said he was polite but aloof and sometimes quite distant. Gaius patients adored him and said that the kid had miraculous hands and of course it didn't hurt that he was handsome as well, with short dark hair, deep blue eyes, tall and slim and an aura of mystery surrounding him.
"See Gwen I told you he couldn't be as bad as the servants said…"
"Yes, My Lady." She looked shyly at the Court Physician apprentice; to be honest she was having a bit of a crush, after some days ago he had helped her selflessly and the he keep his way, she observed him from afar not being courageous enough to talk to him again. She only knew his name was Merlin and that all the maids were fawning all over him, but he never show them attention. She mentioned his troubles to her mistress and she took the matter with her own hands. "Hi, I-I'm Gwen…"
"Merlin." He answered, standing up because Arthur had given the order that the drill was over.
"The bird? Where?"
"No, my name is Merlin." Morgana laughed discreetly.
"Oh! Of course! Silly of me, I'm sorry; I didn't mean that you were a bird or anything… I just…"
"Gwen, breathe. It's ok, really. Now, if you excuse me: Duty Calls."
"A real pleasure to meet you, Merlin."
"Likewise, Morgana; farewell." And he went along with the knights.
"What an interesting bloke. Don't you think, Gwen? Gwen?" She turned back to look at her maid. "What's wrong, Gwen?"
"He called you 'Morgana'!" Gwen was in shock.
"I noticed, as I said: interesting bloke."
7
Merlin tried his best to stay away from the business of the crown. He had even blocked the Dragon out of his head. He performed his duties and then stayed out of the way of everything that could take him to the future he had left behind and still had nightmares every single night. But destiny was a flicky thing, with one look at the singer Helen, he remembered about the son of the woman he didn't see die for a second time. He avoided being present in such events, he couldn't guarantee that his magic would not react and create a chain reaction before the massacre where innocent people were dying.
He was obligated to enter Helen's room, per Gaius' wishes; with a sigh he resigned to his destiny and looked around the room. Every single reflective surface was covered. He leaned against the door closing it.
"Ah, young lad… what can I do for you?"
"I cannot give you back your son, but the path you are walking will only lead you to your death…" The reaction was as expected, she tried to attack him. Merlin overpowered the grieving old lady as tender as he could. "Please, I have seen so many people die… don't waste the sacrifice your son did for you…"
"You don't understand." She shrieked with tears falling down.
"I do understand. I do… I-I have lost so much, you have no idea. I have nightmares; I choke in my dreams. Please, do your performance and leave… you will be getting a great reward for your singing. Go; live your life away from the pain. At least, think about it. Do it for your son." He begged trying to make her see reason. After his pleadings he left the room, hoping for the best.
8
After being forced to crush the fake Helena with a candelabrum (again) and shove Arthur out of the way of the assaulting knife; he quickly left the Great Hall feeling the annoying prickling in his eyes, warning him to search a safe place to cry. He found the darkest corner he knew the castle had and let the tears fall. Why the hell was he in the past if he could not change the future? He felt in despair, he felt hollow; his suicide tendencies came back to him abruptly choking the air out off of his lungs. His desires to live began to abandon him while the dread stalked him. He didn't want to live that future again. He couldn't stand to repeat over and over again.
"Merlin… are you all right, my boy? You left pretty quickly. It took me a while to found you." Emrys lifted his head and Gaius gasped. Merlin's face was full of tears and his eyes were glowing in that characteristic golden hue of powerful sorcerers. The young Warlock jumped at him, hugging him as if his life depended on it; choking and short of breath while the sobs became audible.
"Why? I don't want it! Not again!" He cried broken. He tried to say something else, but the chocked sobs didn't allow it.
9
Gaius left Merlin's room, with Merlin in some sort of catatonia. He had force feed him some valerian to calm the frazzled nerves of the vexed youngling and when he knew that Merlin was not going to do something stupid, even if he didn't know what exactly could constituted as "stupid" in this case; he decided to leave him alone.
"Emrys…"
"Helen or whatever the hell you call yourself." Merlin acknowledged miserable, the ghost of the fake Helen that appeared in front of him once that Gaius left the room.
"Do not be troubled by my dead, Emrys… I am grateful. I now can see everything clearly and I thank you. I wanted to die; Emrys I wanted to be with my son and you granted my wish."
"And who is going to kill me, then?" Fake Helen sighed with sympathy, feeling remorseful for the young warlock.
"You have so much to live for, Emrys: to love, to hate, to feel, do not live for what does not exist yet."
"Merlin, to whom are you talking to?" Of course the Court Physician was keeping an eye and an ear on him.
"Farewell and Thank you, Merlin Emrys…" Gaius looked shocked at the ghost of the fake Helen dissolving in the night.
"Merlin?"
"She was the mother of the bloke, Uther decided to behead in all his greatness a few days ago." Merlin explained with hazed voice, looking at the void.
"You did the right thing, Merlin." The deep blue eyes of Merlin looked at him, like assessing.
"Right, because it doesn't matter as long as Arthur lives…" Merlin muttered devoid of emotion in his voice.
"I will give you something stronger. I don't like those bags under your eyes…" The Warlock chuckled with that spark that left his eyes so many years ago; ignited once more for a few seconds.
TBC