Ghosts from an ignominious past
Disclaimer: All characters from the series belong to the BBC, only the others, dead or alive , belong to me.
A/N: Thanks for your kind reviews, they always make my day.
To ruby890: For once this chapter will show not Uther the bastard but Uther the man. I hope you'll like it anyway.
3. The magician and the beast
Merlin padded down the stairs which led to Camelot's main yard, listless in the midday heat of this fine day in early September.
He looked around carefully, making sure that Guinivere was nowhere to be seen. The last thing he would have liked right now was another encounter with his friend. He knew he was behaving base and shabbily but he just couldn't stand her fruitless deliberations and speculations any more. They resembled his own endless train of thought too much, which, like Gwen's, led nowhere.
Three months since Arthur had been taken away, every stone in the Kingdom turned, every favour Uther had been entitled to called in and still no sign. No ransom notes, no demands, nothing.
Merlin hated the gloom which slowly but surely began to cover all of the city and the citadel as, step by step, people began losing hope.
Gaius was in his room, dreading the next morning's Council session. His old friend Geoffrey, Uther's head clerk, had told him in advance that the Council members were going to urge the King to rearrange the succession act. Merlin felt an atypical rage building up inside him. That easy, huh? Count Arthur out, time to open the dance anew, after all there was a Crown for a prize!
Merlin had eavesdropped as the two old friends had talked it over. So there were some barons with a drop of royal blood in their veins, albeit legend had it that not all families had reason to be proud of the ways they had come by it. They all had sons, naturally. They all would beseech the tormented King to choose a new heir from the ranks of these sons.
Merlin crossed the yard and headed towards Arthur's stables. He had made it a habit to tend to the Prince's horses and dogs whenever Gaius let him. Somehow he felt close to his friend as long as he was there, among the animals. They seemed to feel as abandoned and useless as he felt himself.
The young warlock snorted contemptuously while he remembered Gaius' and Geoffrey's talks. They actually had lowered themselves to discussing the strengths and flaws of some of the likely candidates for the great Prince of Camelot Contest that was afoot.
Unwittingly Merlin began an angry chatter with himself. "As if one of these spoiled brats could ever hope to hold a candle to Arthur Pendragon. Aristocratic prats. Clotpoles, the lot of them."
In his frustration he tossed the brushes and forks through the stable aisle until a brush hit a polished pair of boots.
Slowly Merlin's gaze wandered from the boots to the legs inside them, then to the elegant coat and the sword belt around the waist. The beautiful weapon was unmistakable.
"Your Majesty" he muttered. "I didn't see you before."
"That much is obvious!" Uther said. "I heard you have taken a liking to these premises, but is it necessary to mess the stables up in order to have an excuse to stay in here?"
Merlin only shrugged. He tried to smile but his face wasn't as flexible as a real courtier's features would be. He couldn't lie with it.
"So, a few days more and you will know who is going to be your next master. The dogs, I am afraid, will have to be put down, they wouldn't accept another Prince as easily."
"As won't I" Merlin said heatedly, with all the defiance he could muster. Without thinking he fully faced the King, looking straight into the steel-grey eyes without so much as blinking. "I will return to Ealdor, once this impo...the new Prince is crowned!"
"Just like that? You are so sure you can decide that all on your own?"
The warlock felt his cheeks grow hot. "I was a free man when I came two years ago and I am a free man now" he said, unwittingly straightening his back until he stood as tall as he really was. "I maybe a lowly peasant in your eyes but I am free enough to choose my own master and I will not serve another!"
"Not even me?"
The short question hit home with considerable ferocity. Breathlessly Merlin gawked at Pendragon's unreadable face.
"Sire, I won't...I mean I would never have thought... I mean" and while he still stammered, pictures were conjured up by his dumbfounded mind, pictures of a servant being tied to a stake on a pyre for using magic on the royal chamber pot while the King of Camelot was still on it.
"I thought Your Grace has always considered me an idiot" was all he finally managed to say.
"It didn't bother my son. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. What say you? Not that I'm sure I can live up to the high standards you demand of a master."
Merlin swallowed hard. "I...I...would you give me some time to think this over?"
Uther cocked a brow. "You know, this isn't very flattering. Others would jump at the opportunity."
"I know, Your Majesty." Merlin desperately wished for a hole in the ground big enough to swallow him, here and now. "But I am somewhat confused..."
"Aren't you always?"
When Merlin only stared at him, a helpless plea in his eyes, Uther chuckled.
"Very well, it shall be as you wish. You can give me your final decision the day the new Prince of Camelot is crowned."
He turned to leave and suddenly Merlin's heart cramped in his chest.
"Sire, why are you doing this? It has been only three months. He could still be alive, held prisoner, waiting for our help..." When Uther faced him again, Merlin's voice trailed off under the intent stare.
"I know that" Uther said. "And I will not abandon the search. But the realm needs an heir. I am only a mortal after all."
Merlin's arms fell. He shook his head but he did so silently.
Already in the door the King turned round once more. "You know, if you were to stay, as my servant or as a servant to the new Crown Prince, we could sometimes have a talk, about all these royal prats and clotpoles we have known in our lives."
Merlin just stood there and stared, long after the King had left.
