Will this ever end? No, not really.
After four years of cleaning up after the untidiest man in Camelot – No, make that Albion - , Merlin thought he would have become accustomed to the never-ending mundane tasks. How wrong he was. In his first year or so, he firmly believed that mucking out the stables was the worst job of them all. After a little more experience, however, Merlin quickly discovered that emptying the chamber pot after a rough night was far worse. Urgh... disgusting!
Merlin's face screwed up at the thought of it. If Arthur was a princess – wow, now that was an odd thought -, he'd be collecting flowers instead, or gossiping, or whatever noblewomen do these days. But no! All poor Merlin got was a bucketful of puke just because the pampered prince couldn't take his drink! His manservant could probably beat him on a drinking contest... actually, on second thoughts, no, he wouldn't. Last time Merlin had drunk the consequences had been dire; a very late morning, and stable duty, every day of the week!
At the moment Merlin was polishing Arthur's sword, which wasn't that bad, but it was getting a bit late. The mid-spring sun was waving goodbye to him, only half of it visible because of the high walls of the citadel. Its orange light bathed the courtyard, the guard's steel spears and helmets glinting brightly. It had been a month since the hectic and heart-in-the-mouth times when Morgana's short-lived but terrible reign had been ended. It had only recently struck him that the Cup of Life had never been found in the wreckage of the throne room. The idea that Morgause had been revived by Morgana was enough to make Merlin gulp. When would those two be finally defeated? Would they ever be ultimately vanquished?
There had been no time to talk to the Dragon since; there had been no real need to, either. Everything was strangely peaceful, almost surreal. There had been no talk of trouble; no mythical, rampaging creatures, no roguish bandits, or vengeful sorcerers. This had been the one time during Merlin's stay in Camelot where the place seemed to be untroubled for quite some time. If only he could get time off from his other job too, but Merlin could imagine the look on Arthur's face if he asked for a day off.
Merlin jumped when the door to Arthur's chambers was swung wide open, and Sir Gwaine stepped in.
"Merlin, Arthur wants you to meet him on the battlements."
"Why on earth would he want to do that?"
"I don't know; perhaps he's planning a romantic sunset date with you?" Gwaine teased. Merlin frowned funnily.
"What, on the battlements? Are you sure he's not going to throw me over because he got covered in horse muck the other day?"
"That was an accident, wasn't it? ... Was it?"
"Yeah, of course it was," Merlin looked the other way and put Arthur's sword down, suppressing a devilish grin. Strictly speaking, that had been an accident... sort of. Arthur kind of walked into it, well he actually fell face first into it, but the point was Merlin was completely blameless for this. The young warlock left the chambers hastily before Gwaine could catch up with him and mock him on how Arthur had once said Merlin was quite clever... after half a barrel of mead.
The castle corridors were empty at this time of day, most of the nobles having retired to their chambers and the guard's at their stations. This castle was now saturated with countless memories, back to a time when Merlin and Morgana were friends, when he and Arthur weren't, and to the times when he had never known his father, or found love. He rarely admitted it to himself, but Merlin had come a long way since arriving here.
Reaching the thin, rickety spiral staircase that led to the lofty battlements, Merlin quickly realised that Arthur enjoyed mocking his manservant when he was out of breath, and that was exactly what he would be by the time he reached the top. For not one second Merlin thought this could be a deep, meaningful conversation, or any form of conversation for that matter.
Merlin swung the heavy oak door open, wheezing for air, as he bent over and took a breather. He was on the Eastern battlements, which overlooked the former threat of Cenred's kingdom. Word had reached Camelot that the King had been killed, and many saw this as a perfect opportunity to extend the Kingdom's power in Albion. Even Merlin considered it would be a great start for Arthur in fulfilling his destiny to unite all the lands together. Yet the Prince had been cautious, and had opted against taking the land. King Uther was still recovering from the shock of Morgana, and who could blame him for the atrocities she had carried out on the citizens of Camelot? Arthur had stated to Merlin that he didn't want to make any rash or extreme decisions during his temporary rule.
Arthur was waiting for him, his back golden from the western descent of the sun. He had a troubled look on his face, and that didn't normally bode well for Merlin.
"Sire, you summoned me?"
Arthur nodded, still not taking his eyes away from the horizon "Do you think I was wrong?"
"Sire, what do you mean?" Merlin was confused by Arthur's distant tone.
"Do you think the people consider me a coward for not capturing Cenred's kingdom?"
Merlin was completely taken aback. He hadn't expected this at all!
"Wouldn't you be better off asking your knights?"
"Merlin, you know I value your opinion," Arthur said seriously, while Merlin rolled his eyes "even if I don't take it seriously all the time."
"Well, I would say no. You have a great destiny Arthur, but for now it is best to play it safe until your father fully recovers. Invading a foreign land would waste resources and claim lives, while leaving Camelot exposed to attack. You made the right choice."
Arthur shook his head "You know, Merlin, you are a complete and utter idiot; you are! Yet sometimes, just for a few moments... you actually come out with something that makes sense!"
"You make that sound like its odd," Merlin replied coolly.
"That's because it is!" Arthur laughed, but he quickly turned serious again.
For a moment or two they stood there in silence, watching over the great city below them, still full of life and noise, but most had gone into their homes, or the taverns, and had called it a day. Columns of thin, wispy smoke rose up to the sky, illuminated by the setting sun. A few revellers were stumbling down the main street, singing and complaining noisily as guard's grabbed them. It was a fairly quiet evening, which was quite uncommon here. It might have been why Arthur had taken the opportunity to speak here.
"I wonder about Morgause as well, and Morgana." Arthur injected lethal venom into his voice for both names, surprisingly more for the latter of the two.
"Where do you think they are?" Arthur asked Merlin like he was expecting several different answers.
"Plotting no doubt, while smirking over a bubbling cauldron of nasty stuff." Despite it being a joke, Merlin thought it highly likely.
A smile found a way on Arthur's lips, but he cut it out by smacking them.
"Do you think they might take Cenred's Kingdom for themselves?"
Merlin shook his head confidently "No, Morgause won't be able to walk into that place without everyone trying to kill her. All those immortal men we killed... they had wives and children. She will be blamed for it as it was her who enchanted that cup."
Arthur seemed reassured "Then who will take it?"
"It's not too late," Merlin whispered "if you feel like you're up to it."
Arthur looked exceptionally tempted "What if I were to fail? My father would be ashamed."
"And if you were to succeed? Anyone could take it as it is now; all the warriors were killed when the cup of life was emptied of their blood. It's a kingdom full of orphans and widows. Someone is bound to take this golden opportunity at some point."
"I will consult with father," Arthur said resolutely, finalising that conversation "and see what he thinks on the matter."
"You don't agree with him much anyway."
"He is the King."
Merlin didn't like arguing with Arthur; it normally involved extra back-breaking chores as a consequence. The only times he intervened was when the Kingdom was in danger, and right now it wasn't, so Merlin kept his mouth shut. Yet, of course, he couldn't forever.
"Morgana could always take it; they have no quarrel with her, and she has royal blood."
The name seemed to hurt Arthur and he leaned against the battlement walls, gazing into the horizon.
"Why did she do it, Merlin, why?" Emotional pain was etched on Arthur's face. "She was like a sister to me. Yes, we bickered and argued but that was as worst as it got, and then suddenly she is trying to kill me? Has she gone insane, or was she enchanted?"
Merlin saw the danger and put his foot down it "No, there's no way she could have done the things she did had she been enchanted. Morgana was my friend to, but it was her choice to distance herself from us. We were always there for here; she can't throw the blame on us. She made the wrong decision in siding with Morgause, and we will make sure they both pay for what they did to your people."
Arthur nodded grimly and Merlin joined in, determined to keep any idea of pardoning Morgana out of the window. Merlin had been prepared to forgive her in the past, but not for her latest crimes. The battle for Camelot may have been won, but the battle for Morgana's soul had been well and truly lost.
The sun made its farewells to the people of Camelot and disappeared over the horizon, a temporary, fleeting moment of twilight striking the Kingdom. The purple skies signalled the time for the watchtower's huge braziers to be lit and soon enough a never-ending trail of embers rose up into the darkness, fading as quickly as they had sparked. The stars gleamed above them, a complex connection of tiny, distant lights twinkling down softly. A soft, cool, tickling wind stroked the side of Merlin's neck, and his deep blue eyes gazed contentedly out at the Kingdom he and Arthur had helped grow strong. Looking down, he watched the criss-cross network of the streets of Camelot be bathed in torchlight as the city lit up spectacularly. Now that there was no point in hiding anything, Merlin had pointed out to Arthur that he had spotted Morgana leaving the castle in the dark recesses of the night, on several occasions, in brightly coloured cloaks. The Prince had blushed at this and had ordered half of the guard to return their wages. Absolutely no one was permitted to leave the city at night, save Uther and Arthur. The watch at the main towers had not been doubled, but tripled. Security had been tightened, but the damage had been done. It was too late to hinder Morgana's plans to meet with Morgause. Hopefully, however, it would prevent any future developments which could compromise Camelot and its wellbeing.
Twilight departed, and darkness followed. The stars shone even more intensely, and Merlin would have gladly stayed here for longer, but Arthur had other ideas.
"We should go." Merlin nodded reluctantly and went to follow his Prince.
Suddenly, without warning, both of them stopped right in their tracks, without even meaning to stop. Merlin's head spun back out to the sky, and his jaw dropped. There was a shooting star!
"Look, Arthur," Merlin's face lit up with a bright smile "a shooting star! Make a wish."
It was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes "Honestly, Merlin, you are a bit superstitious, but I suppose that's just an occupational hazard if you live with Gaius."
"They both laughed openly and made their wishes. Merlin wished for a bright future for Camelot, and for Morgause and Morgana never to threaten this Kingdom again. He wondered about what Arthur was wishing for, but he'd bet his life that it involved Gwen... Hold on.
Merlin's grin vanished and it was replaced with curiosity. He swore that shooting stars travelled in a fairly straight line; this one was going sharply downwards. Wait a minute...
"Arthur!" Merlin shouted to get the Prince's attention. "Look!"
Behind them, to the west, the star was falling rapidly, flames surrounding its surface. It was like watching a small fireball fall down an enormous, pitch black cavern. However, this was far from small... wait, it was absolutely enormous!
At this rate, it would directly hit Camelot, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Arthur's face was transfixed with horror, as was Merlin's. The people hadn't seemed to have noticed yet, as no screams could be heard. They probably couldn't see it; Merlin and Arthur had only been fortunate enough to see it coming due to their lofty view.
There had been many times when had felt like his heart had clawed its way up to his mouth, but this time it felt as it had barged into his head. Surely Morgause and Morgana couldn't be behind this? No, he knew for a fact that Morgause was exceptionally gifted, but this... there was no way any sorcerer could do this. It looked twice the size of the Camelot! It was nearing, and for a moment it seemed luck was finally on their side and it would crash just short of the city. Without warning, however, the fallen star sharply lifted up, and travelled in a fairly horizontal direction before flying right over their heads. Merlin and Arthur both instinctively ducked as their ear drums were beaten viciously by the deafening noise, and their eyes were blinded by the strong blue light. Having barely lifted himself back up, Merlin's eyes froze in horror as the star hit the ground and exploded magnificently. The force of the explosion knocked him backwards and over the battlements!
"ARGHHHH!"
Arthur grabbed his hand just in time, and the Princes' face was contorted with concentration as another tremor nearly sent him over the edge too. A chorus of deafening bangs and flashing lights hit Camelot spectacularly, like a spectacle of shock and awe. Anyone planning on sleeping deeply tonight had just received a rude awakening.
"Hold on, you idiot!" He shouted, as Merlin nearly lost his grip. Slowly, but surely, the warlock was lifted back up onto the battlements, before Arthur finally pulled him over. They crashed to the floor, both breathing heavily. Arthur jumped up desperately, and Merlin followed suite, dusting off his coat as his hands shook uncontrollably. The sight before him was literally jaw dropping.
Several miles from the city, an enormous, shapeless inferno of blue flames raged and burned intensely, the fire reaching almost a league high into the sky, and at least ten leagues across. It was massive. Merlin and Arthur were struggling to take it in when part of the star exploded, spits of isolated fire dispersing over the plains. The two friends looked at each other, both with their mouths slightly open in the illuminated night.
"A star doesn't burn blue flames," Merlin said hoarsely, his voice croaky and not his own.
"A star doesn't suddenly change direction as it's about to hit a city," Arthur replied, also as if he was miles away.
Their eyes met, both wide and full of shock. Realisation hit Merlin's face.
"It's not a star!"
"Merlin, get the horses! Now!"