It was with a heavy heart that one Arthur Pendragon stalked the corridors of Camelot with the aim to reach the lodgings of a certain Court Physician.
He trod along the stone floors, boots slapping along the paved pathways and eyes downcast, avoiding the sorrow seeming to emanate off of those around him.
Ever since the death of Merlin, the traitorous sorcerer, the castle had become desolate.
None of the servants even spoke among themselves anymore, keeping their heads low, and only responding in monosyllabic, monotonous words, preferring to abstain from any sort of human contact at all.
The knights, whenever they were training with the prince, preferred not to outright acknowledge his presence, however this habit became void in presence of orders.
These knights of Camelot followed the orders of Prince Arthur, but not with the enthusiasm that they once would have.
The commoners of Camelot would speak in hushed whispers amongst themselves, restraining from voicing any sort of conversation in the presence of Camelot's nobility, choosing instead to keep their words, opinions and pain,to themselves.
When Merlin was publically executed by the burning of the stake, something in all of Camelot's people died. It is almost as if the people themselves were afraid of living in happiness without him, or perhaps, they could not.
Merlin was the light in the darkness, the hope of a kingdom ruled by bigots, and the smile upon the faces of those thought non-existent.
As Merlin burned out, so did something in the hearts of the people.
It was as if all of the happiness in the kingdom was suffocated, placed under a large blanket and smothered, its life being snuffed out.
Not only that, but it seems the support and respect of the King's followers seemed to be decreasing. There were no outright rebellions, no one telling the King exactly what they thought of him, but the lack of respect, and of trust, was there.
Arthur, himself, seemed to be thinking and acting the same way. The death of Merlin hit him hardest of all.
It took him days, weeks even, to try and understand why he was so affected by the loss of a traitor.
Merlin was evil. Magic was evil. Merlin hadtodie.
They was no other was to ensure the safety of the kingdom. Even if he believed that Merlin was good, he possessed magic. This made him evil by association, didn't it? Merlin used magic, magic was evil, Merlin had to burn. This mantra played itself through Arthur's mind for days now, non-stop, ever since he first witnessed the flash of gold in Merlin's eyes.
As he trudged slowly, sluggishly, through the halls of the castle, he remembered Merlin talking about a destiny so great that it would cause the entire world to stand up and take notice, and that it surrounded the both of them.
He remembers hearing of the great Emrys, whispers amongst the druids, of how this fabled and wise warlock would rid the world of evil, and how he would help the Once and Future King unite the world of Albion, bringing peace and prosperity to the land. He'd heard whispers as he staked out the camps of the druids, the elders of the camp whispering these prophecies to children around the campfires keeping them warm, and bathed in light.
He had always thought that these were children's tales, designed to keep away the monsters in the night, the so called "creatures under the bed", if you will. But he had heard Merlin mention it in his dying words. Didn't that mean something? Could this children's fable possibly have something to do with reality now? Would Albion ever be united? And if so, who was Emrys, really, and who was the Once and Future King? Merlin had mentioned that Arthur himself would be the man to unite this 'Albion' under one banner, but was that really possible? Considering the treaties he knew his father had established, and the many more wars he had waged, he didn't think it was, especially not for him. But it was nice to dream.
However, if Merlin really was this Emrys character, he had the power to make Arthur kneel at his feet, bow at his command, and fulfil every whim he desired, and yet he stayed as a servant to the Prince of Camelot. This must say something about loyalty, surely?
Or maybe he was just biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike, so that he could make the death of Arthur Pendragon look like an accident?
But that doesn't make sense; Merlin could have easily poisoned his wine, or his food, and blamed it on the kitchen staff, or an assassin. It would have been believed easily, and if Merlin was truly that powerful, which he believed he was, after witnessing the death of that foul creature, he could have escaped Camelot far before anyone had even realised the death of the Prince.
Merlin was the most loyal friend he had ever had. Merlin was the only friend he had ever had, yet even he knew that the loyalty that Merlin possessed towards him was unfathomable. He went beyond the line of duty, and beyond that of even the most loyal of knights, to ensure the safety of Arthur, and his happiness.
Even though he was the most insubordinate servant in all of Camelot's walls, even though he insulted the Crowned Prince every hour of every day, and even though he ought to be in the stocks more often than not, he always made a smile come upon the Prince's face.
Arthur knew that Merlin was a kind and gentle soul, and that he would never hurt anyone willingly, and yet he had magic.
The turmoil running through his mind was giving him the biggest migraine, and there really was only one thing he could do; speak to Gaius.
Gaius knew Merlin better than anyone, a position he thought he held until recently, and he would have known from the very beginning that Merlin had magic.
So he set his resolve, and climbed the staircase the quarters of the Court Physician.
Knocking twice, he waited for the curt, "Enter" to reach his ears, before pushing sternly on the solid door to permit his arrival.
Gaius looked up from his work, with a blank look upon seeing Arthur there. Neither said anything for moments, as if this were a standoff and they were simply waiting for one to draw their weapon, whereupon Gaius lifted the infamous eyebrow, Arthur coughed, and graced Gaius with the only smile he had given since the burning of his greatest friend.
And when he had sat upon one of the rickety wooden stools in Gaius' study, calmly announced, "Gaius, I need you to tell me about Merlin. Everything." And in the quietest whisper, he followed up his request with a soft, yet pain-filled, "Please".
So, can you guys review and let me know if this should finish as is? Should I leave it as complete? :) Cheers.
