Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the BBC - except for the few characters you won't recognise - they are all ours :)
Hi Guys! Thanks for reading this story. Well, I am assuming you are going to read this, cause nobody just reads the author's note and not the story. Unless, of course, the author's note is really bad, and rambling, in which case I may shut up soon.
This is our first multi-chap fic, and for two of us, our first fic at all. Eleanor did publish an awesome one-shot, but that is neither here nor there -unless you want to read it of course! (Hem hem, read it, now!)
Anyway, this is co-written between three of us; that is Catherine, Eleanor and Simona. We all took alternative chapters more or less, so I will let you all know who is writing which chapter when it is published.
Thank you and enjoy!
Chapter One Author: Simona
The First Phase
The sky glowed red hot orange and, as the sun descended, darkened into a mystical and dazzling purple as the stars slowly awoke from their daily roost. The castle stood majestically in front of the backdrop, the torches ablaze, a comforting light that meant only one thing to Arthur and Merlin after a tiring trek:
Home.
Merlin couldn't wait to unsaddle his wary steed, which he had rode for nearly 3 hours, from the time that they had heard there had been a disturbance in the outlying villages till now, when they were on the return stretch of the journey. Arthur thought nothing of it – he was used to having to ride out into the sunset to keep the peace in the kingdom on his fathers' command. Every couple of minutes, he could see Merlin re-adjusting himself on his saddle, flicking his legs this and that way and straightening himself this way and that, which Arthur found deeply amusing.
"Merlin, there is no way that saddle is bothering you that much", he commented, hoping that Merlin would think of something interesting to retort with.
"It's easy for you" he began, "Your behind is practically padded under all that fat you carry around on it", he looked at the castle, not meeting his eyes, as Arthur chuckled. Merlin had exceeded his expectations.
"My behind?" he asked, faking seriousness.
"Oh I'm sorry... I mean your royal behind", he corrected himself and began to smile.
"Ahh Merlin, I never tire of your…"
Suddenly, an arrow skimmed through the air, making contact with Merlin's heart, after sinking through his shirt, causing him to fall sideways off his horse, onto the soggy field. Arthur unsaddled and rushed to his aid, while the arrow glowed shimmering pink and melted into the wound spilling crimson blood everywhere.
Through the blur of semi-consciousness, Merlin saw Arthurs' face, constricted in panic and fear; he felt Arthur's hands assessing his chest, until the darkness took hold of him and he felt nothing.
Gaius rushed around in the chaos that was Merlin's possibly fatal incident, collecting dressings and trying to find a select bottle lost in a sea of similar ones. Oh, how he wished he had decided to organize his workbench so in moments such as this, important vials could easily be identified and accessed. But now was not the time to spend focusing on regrets.
Merlin was lying unconscious on his bed, Gwen and Arthur fawning over him, while he was struggling to find his sample of arnica.
"Gaius, are you sure there is nothing we can do?" queried Arthur.
"Well, actually, Gwen would you mind getting me a pail of water from the well?" he requested, to which she nodded and spun out the door, "And Arthur, I think you should clean yourself up before dinner with your father…"
"But Gaius…"
"Now now, your father would not want you to be this distressed about the welfare of your manservant. Imagine when you are King and one of your servants falls ill, you cannot spend every hour at their bedside – you will have a kingdom to run, a kingdom which requires constant leadership, which you will have to provide."
"But…"
"Now scoot. Besides, you have Merlin's blood on you, you'll start to smell" he pointed out, smiling slightly though his eyes were already looking at his shelf stacked with phials. Arthur trudged, defeated, out of the chambers, after shooting Merlin a final look.
Now Gaius was able to work in peace.
He found the arnica eventually, nestled discreetly between the basil and the laurel, and carefully set about dressing the wound. When he finally cleaned it out, something peculiar happened.
The folds of skin which were split into a deep forge over Merlin's heart stretched out their longs strand-like arms of skin and started pulling themselves together, until they closed over each other, leaving a faint pinkish mark. Gaius stared dismayed at Merlin, dropping his instruments on the floor.
Merlin stirred. His eyes fluttered open, the pupils gawking.
They flashed gold.
It started in the streets of Camelot, the dream.
Merlin found himself in the lower town, quite disorientated, being hauled along by a chunky, grimy chain further from the castle, while he felt as if great burdens were being lifted off his shoulders, making him feel buoyant and weightless, while a feeling of dread in his gut told him of an even greater burden that was unhurriedly being loaded onto his shoulders.
Once he had been dragged out of the sanctuary of Camelot, the pull was greater; the chain moved him along faster slowly gaining momentum until he was tripping and failing to keep up.
It lead him into the forest, where the trees doubled over him, shielding him from the prying eyes of the moon. The earth was a minefield of upturned roots, crooked twigs and thorns which left him scarred, scratched and bleeding.
At last the chain slowed down, nearing its destination: a dishevelled den.
Outside was a gnarled pitching post for horses which Merlin realised his chain was attached to, a wench bringing it in. The whole den looked like a part of the forest: plants grew along the bitter stone walls, sick juicy thorns gleaming in the dim light; the roof was grass, ridden with withering weeds; the door being a board of wood, amber trickling out of deep, troubling cuts.
The door opened for him and he, without question, shuffled in, while the door closed behind him. Inside, a monster, ornamental bird cage dominated the room, with a cheerless falcon perched inside, its crestfallen eyes watching him as he surveyed the rest of the room. The walls were swathed with tarnished clocks which had all stopped at 10 o'clock. The rest of the space was packed with dead mice and voles', suggesting the falcon was somebody's pet.
Merlin took one of the mice and managed to squeeze it through the bars of the cage, which it took gratefully. It ripped its head off eagerly and chewed ravenously.
Merlin suddenly noticed there was something in his mouth. He spat it out.
A mouse's head.
Merlin gradually came round: his head thumping, the noises made by his surroundings blaring in his sensitive ears. At one point there was someone humming a lullaby, someone sobbing silently, someone inquiring about his condition and being told calmly by the undisputable voice of Gaius that he would be fine.
When it was reasonably quiet, Merlin's eyes flapped open and he saw the familiar quarters of his uncle: the same disordered ruckus of cures and poisons, dusty tomes and parchments full of knowledge and secrets which Merlin had yet to discover.
He pulled himself upright and while looking at the new pink flesh on his chest, memories of the previous night flooded back: a sharp pain through his chest as the arrow struck his heart, Arthur huddled over him (was that worry on his face? He wasn't sure…), a warm sticky substance seeping into his garment, the horses neighing in the darkness… And the dream, he shuddered, it stood vividly in his mind, like a ghost haunting him.
"Merlin, oh, thank goodness, you gave me quite the scare" Gaius rushed over to him, "How are you feeling?" he quizzed.
"Uh, fine… I'm slightly confused, but fine…" he responded, inspecting his 'wound' again.
"Ah, yes, that" he referred to his wound, "It seems you have some sort of healing power…"
"Healing… power?" his tone made Gaius sound mad.
"The wound just knitted itself together in front of me, it was the strangest thing I have ever seen" he paraphrased.
"But I've had cuts before and they've stayed for at least a few weeks" Merlin challenged.
"Hmmm" he contemplated, "Maybe the power only works when the injury is serious…" Gaius suggested, and Merlin started to see his point.
"Even so, this means that you have yet to discover the full scale of your powers, I mean, who knows what else you can do?" Gaius rationalised, thinking of the possibilities. He walked over to the workbench, where he continued what he must have been doing before Merlin awoke: tidying.
"So are you certain that you're absolutely fine?" he asked, once again, to clarify.
"Yes, I'm fine!" Merlin replied, slightly annoyed.
"Alright, alright, you're fine… oh and before I forget, Arthur left you a note" he passed him a folded piece of paper, with "Merlin" written fluidly on the outside. Inside it read:
Meet me at the training grounds.
My royal behind needs a workout.
Arthur
Oh joy, thought Merlin.
Well, there you have it! Please review, (only if you want to, of course. I have no sword pointed at you. Yet)
Next Chapter: Did You Miss Me? (Written by yours truly - Catherine)
Should be up as soon as I remember. Merci Beaucoup!