Still don't own the amazingness that is Merlin... *sniffle*
The next morning Merlin set out to get rid of the witching stone. It was still in his pants pocket and Merlin wanted to dispose of it as quickly as possible. Neither he nor Gaius could touch it, which meant getting rid of it would require magic. That meant leaving the castle to find some place that no one would see him. Gaius had given him a sandwich and an order to collect some useful herbs (only after you're done, of course, you mustn't botch getting rid of it... And for goodness sake, boy, don't bring back hemlock like last time!). Merlin told Arthur he was going to be collecting herbs for Gaius and so wouldn't be available (Arthur excused him, if with a promise to muck out the stables-now there was something Merlin was not looking forward to) and was free from his duties for the entire day.
Merlin was thankful for the break from work if nothing else. Arthur had been surprisingly… strange lately, watching Merlin work with a contemplating expression on his face. At first, Merlin had been terrified Arthur had figured out his secret, but he was sure if Arthur knew he'd have confronted him by now.
Whistling, Merlin stepped deeper into the forest. Despite what Arthur liked to believe, Merlin could actually be stealthy when he wanted to. Unfortunately for the Prince, hunting trips didn't count. A rabbit that had been chewing on a leaf finally caught sight of Merlin and headed off into the bushes.
Merlin's whistling paused as the stone in his pocket pulsed. It had been doing that at seemingly random intervals ever since he'd left the castle. It gave Merlin an uncomfortable feeling. The stone was unpleasantly warm, like it was trying to burn away the cloth and get to him. Gaius had wanted Merlin to wear gloves, but Merlin had been afraid he'd slip up or the stone would burn through them. Much safer to just levitate it with magic where he could be far, far away.
He finally arrived at the clearing he had in mind. It was deep in the forest, five miles or so, and hardly anyone ever came there. Merlin himself had found it when he'd gotten lost looking for herbs, and it had become a secret spot ever since.
Something about the clearing seemed calming to Merlin-the great oaks and flowers in the spring-and he thought it was the perfect place to do magic. Merlin planned to just levitate the stone out of his pocket and then use magic to smash it. Simple and easy.
Carefully, he focused on the stone. As if in response, it pulsed burning hot. Merlin flinched. Slowly, the stone rose out of his pocket and hovered, slowly spinning, in the air.
It was quite beautiful. In the relative shade of the throne room, Merlin hadn't been able to see the myriad of colors in the crystal. The whole thing was a dark reddish shade, with streaks of gold and blue intermixed. It was mesmerizing.
Without thinking about it, Merlin took a step forward.
If only he could touch it. It looked smooth and cold, like satin…
Merlin's arm was halfway up before he realized what he was doing and took several hurried steps backward.
The stone was calling to him. Not like the dragon had, but a steady, warm tug on his magic. Merlin's magic was as much a part of him as his arms, so it was no wonder he'd almost answered.
There was no way he was touching that thing. No eternal agony or possible death for him, thanks.
Merlin took another step back and prepared to destroy the stone.
Bobbing like a happy child, the stone followed him.
He could feel it tugging on his magic… reeling him in. Pulling itself to him.
Merlin scrambled backward. The stone followed like a very sinister lost puppy.
It was closer now, moving forward even when Merlin stopped moving. It hovered in the air at eye level, glowing and glinting in the sun. It floated forward a few more inches, coming to a halt a mere hand length from Merlin's face.
Merlin swallowed.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the stone drifted forward. Merlin felt its heat on his cheek.
With another happy bob, it touched him.
There was a bright flash of light, a bang, and the stone was gone. Merlin still felt it-it was inside his magic, a spot of heat in a golden ocean-
His fingers twitched.
And then he was certain he was on fire.
Every nerve ending was screaming at him. It was like he was dumped into boiling oil, cut into a million pieces, skinned alive-
He was screaming but he barely noticed-
And then his mind refused to feel a second more and all he knew was darkness.
