Thank you all so much for your kind words about the first chapter, I really appreciate it! It made be warm inside. I'm trying out something new, and wasn't sure it was working. I hope you enjoy the next parts. It's a bit more Merlin/Arthur than before, but will be coming back to Uther later, as well.
White Lies Chapter Two
Arthur tells the story about the Dragon over and over again during the next month, with a grasp of detail and energy belying the fact that he spent a substantial amount of the drama unconscious. It becomes a famous tale amongst his new knights – younger knights, less impressive pedigrees, maybe, but even keener than before and utterly devoted to Arthur. Knights for whom their first loyalty is to the man who leads them confidently in a dangerous world, a man who says they can be knights, a man who can kill dragons. The Dragon becomes their cause celebre. After a horrible day's training, they want to hear the story and relive the glory. It's their good luck charm. Arthur Pendragon, slayer of dragons. The golden dragon on their shields has come to represent the Great Dragon, killed by their prince.
Merlin listens, he likes hearing the story. He doesn't care he doesn't get the credit for the end of the Dragon's campaign of terror; he's just relieved he doesn't get the blame for it starting. Except from himself; when he can't sleep at night and remembers the cries of the dying knights.
And then an urgent message arrives from Strathclyde. The Great Dragon has been spotted near the forest of Calidon. "But I killed it," says Arthur, angrily, petulantly, as Merlin's blood seems to freeze him his veins. He has a sensation of being still, as the ground rushes towards him.
The carrier of the message is an old comrade of Uther in the bad old days. "I saw it myself, sire," he tells Uther, "it is the same beast."
And Uther believes him, everyone can tell.
*****
"How can my father think I'm lying?" storms Arthur, he's throwing his armour around his room, pouting.
Merlin follows him around, picking up the armour, looking sick, because he knows Uther doesn't think Arthur is lying. Uther knows that Merlin is.
"I killed the Dragon," says Arthur, turning to Merlin, looking fierce. "Didn't I?"
"Yes," says Merlin, "you did." Because the lie is so famous now it's practically independent of reality. But Arthur isn't stupid. Merlin feels dull, as though he is moving slightly slower than the world around him. Even the sounds seem muffled.
Arthur is still staring at him, eyes narrowing; the same, hunter look in his eyes as the one which was in his father's that evening after the Dragon had supposedly had been killed. Merlin puts the armour away, but knows that Arthur is following the train of thought to its logical conclusion. "You're the only person who says that," he walks towards him now, voice low. "You're the only person who says I killed him."
Merlin has no answer. He thinks if he opens his mouth he'll be sick. He opens the cupboard and throws the armour in.
"How," says Arthur, standing right behind him, coldly. "How, if the Dragon was killed, is he in Strathclyde?"
"Maybe he wasn't killed," replies Merlin, clicking the cupboard shut. "I thought he was killed. He was bleeding..." He stops, because he doesn't even sound convincing to himself. His life in Camelot has been fraught, he has felt he hates it on many occasions, and now the certain knowledge that it has come to an end in its current form is devastating. He keeps his back to Arthur. He can't face him. He's too guilty.
Arthur's voice has dropped to a practical whisper. "Everyone thinks I killed it," he says, accusingly, "and now I'm a liar. And vainglorious. And dishonourable. Everyone thinks I killed it, and it isn't true."
A dragon couldn't disappear. Merlin had been stupid. Why had he said the Dragon had been killed? It was stupid. But so many other stupid lies had been accepted, he had got lazy. He had got as power mad as the Dragon, he had thought none of his lies could be found out, he had thought he would be trusted implicitly, he had thought he was infallible. He had thought he was cleverer than anyone else. And now Arthur knows the extent of his disloyalty and deception, even if he hasn't realised that he knows it yet. Merlin has given Arthur the tools for his own downfall. And it's all Merlin's fault; it's all his arrogance, and Arthur's humiliation. Merlin feels as though he is bursting from his skin with despair and anger and frustration at his own overconfidence.
"I didn't kill it," says Arthur, dully. "It let me live."
He sounds almost in tears.
*****
It becomes the national joke. Prince Arthur can't tell when a dragon is dead. Prince Arthur says he killed a dragon when really the dragon got bored with him. Prince Arthur is a chip off the old block. Prince Arthur is a liar.
Arthur can't face Merlin now. He recoils from him. He won't take clothes from him; he makes him lay them on the bed. He doesn't look at Merlin when he talks to him, and when he does talk its in short orders. There's no banter. He waits until Merlin leaves the room before eating the food he's brought, sometimes Merlin wonders if he gets Gwen to bring him different meals, but then thinks he's being paranoid. Arthur doesn't think Merlin is dangerous, but he does think he's a liar. But then Merlin is a liar. Arthur's flaws are myriad, but he values honesty, above anything else. He doesn't mention the Dragon to Merlin, he doesn't really talk to Merlin at all, mostly he ignores him. The things he says to Merlin could be addressed to any servant in the castle. Arthur doesn't trust Merlin anymore. He doesn't like him anymore. It's as simple as that.
The knights don't trust Arthur as much, either. Sir Kay steps up and tells the others to shut up, but in reality all of them are suddenly doubting their leader. If Arthur led all his former knights to their deaths and then lied about killing the beast, what sort of man are they serving? Arthur tries to gather his troops together to take the fight to the forest of Calidon. He wants to finish this; he wants to do what everyone thought he had done months ago. As Merlin watches Arthur walking down the great hall, accompanied by his distrustful knights, under the contemptuous gaze of his courtiers, he marvels at the disgrace Arthur is experiencing that he, Merlin, brought upon his head. The magnitude of his betrayal is dazzling.
Uther tries to persuade Arthur against the expedition, but not very hard. It's almost as though he approves of it. Arthur talks about his duty to Camelot, his status amongst his men. Uther makes noises about needlessly interfering in other kingdoms. But Uther keeps looking at Merlin. Merlin can't read his expression. He meets his gaze as steadily as he can. Sometimes now he fears Uther suspects something, or even knows something, beyond his lie. He tells Gaius that. Gaius doesn't have an opinion. "Just keep saying everything happened very fast," he advises. Merlin can't tell for sure, but he thinks Gaius is almost as angry with him as Arthur is.
"It could be a suicide mission," says Uther, placidly. "You've failed once before. You may not be as lucky a second time." The indifference in his tone chills Merlin. The king wants Arthur to charge off to the north. Why?
"I don't see we have any choice," Arthur rises to the bait, sticking his chin out, placing a hand on his sword as though implying he would fight all the court before they would stop him taking Camelot's force to Strathclyde. "It's a simple matter of honour."
Uther listens to Arthur's endless ridiculous justifications of duty to help Strathclyde, to prevent further attacks on Camelot's citizens' interests - and Uther listens, looking slightly bored, before relenting with a slight curt nod. Merlin wants to shout at him, demand to know: why is Uther doing this? Why is he letting Arthur go? Or is he letting Merlin go? He can't tell anymore. Uther's completely unreadable.
The knights pack for the trip to Calidon. And the knights are scared. They're young, and the certainty they had taken faith in – Arthur's famous dragon slaying – has proved false. Plus there's Sir Royns, always snide, always talking, always snipping. "How can you not notice a dragon isn't dead?" he asks, around the bonfire one night. Sir Kay had looked worried as he told Merlin that.
"I think Royns is plotting mischief," he says, anxiously.
"Royns is just an upstart," Merlin reassures, wondering when he had become such an establishment figure. Wasn't he an upstart? A farm boy from a village nobody cared about even when they remembered it existed, suddenly such a confidant to the prince that the knights reported to him, they told him the things they daren't tell Arthur. Then Merlin had to pass it on. And Arthur usually waved his hand dismissively and said "oh, I'll sort it out, Merlin". Before this, he could sort things out by going to the knights' mess and passing the time of day with them. Nowadays he never passed the time of day with his knights, and nothing was sorted out. There was mistrust on all sides. Merlin daren't tell Arthur the reports any more than the knights did.
"Royns says that this is a suicide mission. He says that we will all die, just like all the old knights. Royns says how will Arthur kill the Dragon this time, since he couldn't last time?"
"Royns is a coward," snaps Merlin, perhaps unfairly, given that even he could tell that Royns had a point. "Tell Royns – " he stops himself. "Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter."
Kay looks at him. Kay thinks it does matter, but can't say so, Merlin can tell. Merlin can sense his doubt, and ignores it. There's too much doubt everywhere, gnawing at everyone, primarily emanating from the prince himself.
Arthur looks surprised when Merlin shows up, packed. "I didn't ask you to come." He sounds as if he hates him.
"I'd like to." They are more words than they've exchanged since the messenger arrived that didn't involve dreary household practicalities. "Can I?" He has to ask, but he has to go. He would have to find a way to go even if Arthur says no, but he would rather go with Arthur.
"Just don't say anything until he's actually dead this time." If Arthur's joking, there isn't a shred of humour in his tone. He ignores Merlin's offer of help and swings himself up on his horse.
Merlin follows the clattering knights out of the courtyard, looking back at the beautiful white fortress. Gaius is standing by the steps, looking old and concerned, Gwen has his arm. She is staring at the cobbles, looking distraught. And Uther is on the battlements, not looking at his son, but watching Merlin.
He's always watching Merlin, these days. He's always watching, and waiting.