A/N: In response to a prompt from AngryPurpleFire. No slash intended.
Chapter 1
Arthur wasn't quite sure what his life had become.
Three days ago, he had been the ruler of a prosperous kingdom, in love with a beautiful woman and making plans to propose to her, best friends with his manservant, an idiotic, bumbling, yet endearing and incredibly loyal young man.
Then, in the blink of an eye, in the time it had taken for eyes to flash a condemning gold, all that had been ripped from under his feet.
He had been returning to his room after a council meeting, exhausted and desiring nothing more than to seek his servant's counsel, and had entered his room to the sight of his belovedfriend practicing magic on Arthur's bed clothes, disobeying the laws of the man he had called "friend" within his own citadel.
Upon seeing his king, the boy's face had gone white and he had cried out in terror, "Arthur, I can explain!"
Arthur hadn't given him the chance. He had called the guards immediately, ordering them to take his terrified, almost sobbing,friend to the dungeons. He had not wanted to hear Merlin's excuses- he'd needed time to think alone.
He hadn't told anyone other than Agravaine what had happened, unwilling to consult with someone whose emotions were wrapped up in this dilemma (like his most certainly were, however reluctant he was to admit it).
Agravaine had advised him to be a strong king, to show that he was more powerful than the "treacherous sorcerer."
Arthur knew his uncle had meant well, but he had been forced to ask the man to leave after that remark.
Now, after three days of deliberating, he still didn't know what to do with the boy.
One thing was for certain, though. No matter what he had done, Arthur couldn't bear to watch his friend die. He would not be able to endure standing on the balcony, facing his people, facing Merlin, and giving the order for the boy to die. He could not watch the axe fall, severing his beloved manservant's head from his body, blood spurting everywhere. Nor would he be able to bear seeing the torch lowered to the pyre and Merlin catching fire, or smelling the stench of burning flesh and hearing his friend's screams.
And then the warlock's mother…. How could he ever face her and tell her he had had her only son slaughtered?
No, he was not about to allow his closest friend to be executed. It was the only thing he was certain of right now.
-Merlin-
"Are you certain this is a wise choice, sire?"
Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead, attempting to ignore Agravaine's protests.
"You must, especially in a situation such as this, display your strength and authority as king of this land. If the people see that you are lax in enforcing such a crucial law, who knows what they will try?"
"And do you not think mercy is a strength?" inquired Arthur, recalling a time when Merlin (the very name sent a pang through his heart) had said much the same to him. "Merlin has risked his life for mine countless times. He once drank poison for me, in full knowledge of what he was the people not find it heartening that I reward this loyalty, even under such extreme situations?"
"Yes, sire," admitted Agravaine with a sigh, "but perhaps…"
"Uncle," interrupted Arthur, letting coldness and steel seep into his voice. "The last time you gave me such advice, it brought war to Camelot. I am your king, and this is my decision. You must abide by it."
Agravaine bowed stiffly. "Of course, your highness," he murmured soothingly. Then, straightening, he inquired, "Has the boy been apprised of the situation?"
The king blinked in surprise- it had not occurred to him to inform Merlin of the decision. He pictured the young servant languishing in a cell for three days, waiting and waiting for his master's verdict, waiting to die, as the time crept by. Even though he could no longer consider Merlin a friend (or so he told himself), the thought of the boy suffering that fate made his heart twist painfully inside his chest."No, he has not," replied Arthur, "but that is an excellent idea. Uncle, please inform my former manservant of my decision at once. You are dismissed."
With one last bow and a muttered, "Sire," the advisor retreated from Arthur's chambers.
-Merlin-
Agravaine was stunned. The fact that Arthur had delayed the servant's execution to contemplate the situation had shocked him enough, but then the king, a ruler legendary for his hatred of magic, had revoked the sentence. He had practically condoned the use of magic on his bed sheets.
What was he to do now? He didn't have time to visit Morgana and ask her what was to be had to tell the sorcerer that…
Oh. But that was it, wasn't it? That was what he should do!Every sorcerer he had encountered had been hurt, in some way or another, by the Pendragons. Surely Merlin was no different. If he could somehow turn Merlin against Arthur….
A slow grin began to spread across Agravaine's face. If Merlin betrayed Arthur, if he joined forces with Morgana, then Arthur- and Camelot with him- would be sure to fall.
-Merlin-
"Merlin."
A clanking echoed in the cell as the servant crawled forward to the door of the cell. "Lord Agravaine," he replied carefully, his eyes darting over to the guards before falling back on the advisor.
Agravaine had to restrain a gasp when he caught sight of Merlin. It had been only three days, but the boy looked as though he had been imprisoned for three months. He appeared almost emaciated, his cheekbones jutting out sharply, bags under his eyes, and his arms so thin the shackles slid down to just abovehis elbows. The boy's eyes were desperate, almost wild, as they gazed at the advisor, seeking for some faint hope of salvation.
"I regret to have to inform you of this," began Agravaine, attempting to make his voice as sincere and sympathetic as possible. "I tried to persuade him to show mercy, citing multiple instances in which you acted with utmost loyalty and devotion, but I was unable to sway his mind. King Arthur has decreed-" here he took a deep breath, as if preparing himself to deliver dreadful news, "that you shall be burnt at the stake tomorrow at noon. And… I have no wish to repeat this, but I am under strict orders to tell you that he is eagerly awaiting the execution, and that his only regret will be that it was not done sooner."
He watched with hidden glee as the boy's face crumpled in agony.
"I am sorry, Merlin. Truly I am. I did my best to persuade him, but he would not listen. If there is anything, anything at all, that I can do to assist you or ease your passing, just send word to me."
Merlin said nothing, just nodded stiffly, his eyes glazed over, unseeing.
Reaching through the bars, Agravaine rested a hand briefly on the warlock's shoulder. "Goodbye, Merlin," he murmured regretfully, and walked solemnly out.
As he strode back towards his chambers, he wondered how long it would be until he heard the warning bells, alerting Camelot of the sorcerer's escape.
-Merlin-
Merlin was barely aware of the tears streaking down his face. All those years, serving Arthur in the shadows, risking his life time and again, not for glory or recognition, but because he was his friend… and now this.
He had given Arthur everything, and his reward? Burning. Smoke. Choking. Pain. Death. After giving all to the king, his master had thrown it back in his face.
His closest friend, his destiny, despised him- something that he should be incapable of doing. "A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole," Kilgharrah had told him once, years ago. Leave it to Arthur to find a way around that. A choked, bitter laugh escaped the boy's lips.
Had this shattered destiny? he wondered. Did this take away the point of his existence?
And even if it didn't… did he want to continue on like this? Did he wanted to be hated by the man he had sacrificed everything for?
No, he realized. No, he really didn't.
Not when his closest friend had come to despise him and everything he stood for.
Not when destiny had no more use for him.
His eyes roved over the cell, searching…. There. A nail, lying by the cell door.
Reaching out, he seized the tiny piece of metal. He lifted his arm and watched as the shackles slid down, baring his wrist… and the vital veins therein.
The boy closed his eyes, and a single tear slipped out of left eye and trailed down his cheek.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, to Gaius and Kilgharrah, the only ones left who would care…
And he slashed the nail across the veins.
A/N: My first reveal, and by far the darkest thing I've written in awhile…. What did you think? Please let me know! And again, all credit to AngryPurpleFire for the idea. =)
I'm thinking this will be two more chapters.