You guys! Your reviews are getting more lovely with every chapter I swear :D I'm really pleased that most of you enjoyed the show :) And, thanks to Ringo'simaginarycat for the advice about the paragraphing... I've been told about it before and seem to have trouble getting it right... it looks all spiffing on microsoft and then it goes on fanfiction and WHAM. Clumpy paragraphs :s Well, I've tried to space 'em out for you- hope it's all right :D Also, cheers Uraanwe and Polithia and CeeRat, my lovely unsigned reviewees for chapter 6 :)
Lastly, just thought I'd say how I loved the way some of your morals shone through when you saw what Godfrey said about his daughter being 'damaged goods'... hope you forgive him... or maybe you won't like him at all... at the end of this chapter.
Warnings: bit o' swearing towards the end of this chappie. Hence the 'T' rating :D
Chapter 7
Merlin backed away, seizing Sarah's hand and motioning for her to stay close. 'Follow me,' his blue eyes said, as they looked into her amber ones 'trust me.' And she clung on, slipping past the sorcerers and warlocks, pressing around them to see the new, beautiful apparition that was Morgause. She felt confused, and she could feel the magic inside her twisting uncomfortably in her stomach: like Merlin, she hadn't asked for the gift. She'd been born with it. Unlike Merlin, she found it almost impossible to control, and confusion was one of the emotions which forced it out.
Merlin felt Sarah's grip slacken in his, and then felt her pull away.
"Sarah," he began, turning to urge her onwards. He stopped when he saw her terrified expression, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip and her eyes stretched wide, showing all the white.
"Merlin..." she whispered and, suddenly, she was gasping. Merlin doubled back, putting an arm around her shoulder. He had no idea what was wrong with her, but they had to get out. Together, they fumbled through the crowds, pushing and shoving, till they reached the tent flaps. At first, Merlin felt apprehensive about stepping out of the tent so high up but, with the tiniest of shrugs from his shoulders, he went through.
At once, the air rushed up and it felt like he was falling... but he wasn't. He and Sarah were on the ground and they were standing. The entrance was behind them. Merlin looked at Sarah, and by her aghast expression, guessed that she had experienced the same, slightly nauseating, feeling. This did not help with controlling her powers.
Morgause stepped from the carriage in a swirl of gold leaf, which covered her body and then grew from her, stretching out to members of the audience, entwining them in its glittering vines, but softly so that they could easily break free. All the while, Morgause was distracted. Typical, she thought, that the idiot serving boy would ruin this moment for her: she had been planning for weeks, months even, and now she couldn't concentrate because somewhere out there, she had revealed herself to Merlin. She cast around, and spotted him, hurrying to exit the tent.
She smirked and whispered a command back to a sorcerer she had picked up a few days: he was not particularly powerful, but could be when he was in a rage. Instead of putting effort into learning magic, he had learnt to wield a sword and earned his living by cage fighting in taverns. Consequently, he was thick set, with bulging muscles and a wide neck. He was almost as big as the Lion Dancer.
"Aaron," she hissed back to where he sat, awaiting orders in the carriage, "have men ready outside. If they see a boy with black hair, tell them to seize him and take him to the cage. There's no need for them to be gentle about it," she hesitated before continuing, "and tell them to bring the shackles. He could be dangerous."
Aaron relayed the message, quickly, to the fairies, which glowed and spat angrily. They didn't appreciate being used as messenger boys. Aaron swatted at them, furiously, and one of the fairies, instantly, lay dead in his palm. The others took one look at the tiny body, and then dimmed their lights so as not to be noticed by the people outside, and sped to fetch the men, who would capture the boy.
Morgause's voice echoed through the tent: "my fellow sorcerers, warlock and witches, I hope you have enjoyed the show," there was a resounding cheer from the audience. Morgause smiled, indulgently "and I'm sure that you would like to see many more in the future," another round of applause, "but, of course, in a world such as ours and in a Kingdom such as Camelot, there is unlikely to be another Circus of Sorcery any time soon." At the mention of Camelot, a low hiss of anger rang true, "it is not the people of Camelot, however. Is it?" Morgause intended her question to be rehetorical, but someone stood up and screamed:
"Uther Pendragon!" and there was a roar of anger. Morgause's smile widened, surprised at how easily she had managed to work the crowd up into a frenzy of rebellion.
"It is because of Uther Pendragon," she spat his name, "that I set up this circus. I knew that we would be better than him, more powerful than him, when we were together. And now, here we are. I have given you a show: what will you give me in return?" there was a hesitant silence as people looked at one another, unsure. Morgause pressed on,
"what will you give Uther in return for murdering your loved ones in the Great Purge? What will you give him in return for forcing you into hiding, for burning your friends at the stake? Will it be mercy? Will you leave him be, as you have done all these years? Will you go home, and live on the outskirts of the great city because you are too afraid to enter it? Or will you prove to the so called 'King of Camelot' that you are worth more than any royalty? That we are worth more!" she screamed the last words, and people began to stand, some jumping from the top levels, and then softening their fall with a quick spell, and others simply rushing forwards, all staring up at her. Within ten minutes, they had all pledged their allegiance to the cause.
While Morgause was talking, the fairies flew back to Aaron, to relay the message:
The boy is not alone. He has another sorcerer with him.
Aaron cast a weary glance at Morgana, who was too busy wrapping the audience up with her twisted ideas to give him any more orders. He shrugged and said, gruffly, "get 'em both."
Sarah shook, violently, and Merlin watched as, all around them, things began to grow, shooting up from the ground: at first it was just sweet smelling flowers, but then they died and instead turned into vines, bearing grisly thorns, with red tips. Sarah tried to make it stop, but she couldn't. The thorns crept up on them both, snagging painfully on their skin and clothing. Merlin stepped forwards and placed his hand on Sarah's shoulder's, staring into her eyes.
"You can stop this," he said calmly, "you know the spells. You can make it stop." But Sarah just shook her head, tearfully,
"I do not know the spells. I am not like you, Merlin. I didn't choose magic. I- I was born like this." Merlin gaped at her for a moment, a strange feeling rising inside him which he couldn't name. Like joy, but more like compassion. Sarah looked ashamed. Before he could say another word, however, before he could tell her that she was not alone, that he was the same, and she didn't have to be scared anymore, there was the sound of heavy footfalls behind them, and grunts of pain.
Merlin then did something he would seriously regret: his eyes flashed gold and the plants retreated back into the earth. He turned, smiling: maybe he was expecting some kind of thanks? Merlin would laugh about that later.
The men looked at him, puzzled. These were just two kids... what did Morgause want with them? But they decided not to think on it. Instead they advanced, enjoying the way the boy's expression turned from expecting to fearful. The way he sidestepped so that he was blocking the girl from view.
Merlin knew he was in danger. He wasn't stupid and, unfortunately, he'd had far too much experience. He raised his hand and spat a few words but, before the magic which would knock every one of the men out, could take effect, they had clapped his wrists in irons, and the spell died in his throat. As he looked down at the shackles, a man ducked down and chained his ankles. Someone was doing the same to Sarah.
No matter, thought Merlin, and he raised his hand once more, directing it at the nearest man:
"Syrthio i'r llawr eich pen ar y graig!" he roared, but nothing happened. He suddenly felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest and inside him, as if it was pushing his magic, down and down, till it was squashed flat. He gasped; it was more uncomfortable than he would have believed and, before he could do more than clutch at his stumach, he was being lifted by one of the men, as was Sarah.
Godfrey walked behind Gwaine, talking.
"I killed a man, once," he was saying. Gwaine didn't react except to grunt and say,
"So have I." Godfrey, looked at the young man's back and then up at the darkening sky.
"He insulted my daughter. Much as I did, earlier. Damadged goods, he said. I didn't know what to think: she was out of the room, upstairs. Probably sleeping. And I walked to this guy, this prick, and asked him what the hell he meant. He laughed and asked how I couldn't know my daughter was a whore. Said that to my face." Gwaine remained silent, his insides twisting uncomfortbly, and in anger on Godfrey's behalf.
Godfrey kept on talking, "and I picked him up and slammed him against the table. He coughed blood and I kept on slamming him down, again and again. Even once he was dead. We had to run then, Sarah and me. I was on wanted posters everwhere. Moved closer to Camelot, where they're all more interested in sorcery than a wanted man from out of town.
"I set up the tavern. Kept a closer eye on Sarah. That bastard's words wouldn't get out of my head. I started using them. All the time. Demanded that she tell me where she went all those nights: she cried, every time I asked. She told me that where she went people were helping her. Well, that made me mad. Helping her? Helping her with what, exactly? Were they paying her well, was that it? She said no.
"And I was a fool! Such a damn, paranoid fool. I believed that of my own daughter, who I had raised and loved. I thought I knew her, and then I realised. Too late. Bringing her to Camelot was the worst thing I could have done."
"Why?" Gwaine asked, glancing back at the man. He just shook his head. Gwaine gritted his teeth, and said, "sorcerer, right? Warlock, witch, magic." Godfrey looked shocked, his mouth hanging open.
"What?"
"If it's true, Godfrey, I know exactly where your daughter is."
Arthur stormed furiously into Gaius' chambers.
"WHERE'S MERLIN?" he thundered. Gaius almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to see the prince.
"Sire, it hasn't even been a day since you last asked," the physician said, alarmed. Arthur frowned. Had it really? It felt like forever. He sighed and left the room as quickly as he's come, leaving Gaius to stare mournfully after him. If only he could tell the boy where Merlin really was, and stop him from worrying.
For the time being, Arthur had been given another manservant. Terribly polite fellow. Annoyingly so. And, unfortunately, the kid was taking the brunt of Arthur's annoyance, and dealing with it a lot less effectively than Merlin would have done. At one point, when Arthur forgot that it wasn't Merlin serving him, he'd thrown a goblet at the boy, and it had very nearly reduced him to tears!
"For crying outloud!" he'd roared, when he had heard the quickly stifled sniffle. The boy looked up, alarmed and scared, and Arthur tried to calm himself. He got up to leave his chambers, and the servant hurried after him.
"No," Arthur said, harshly, "stay here and clean up or something." He said, before stomping off, allowing his rage to consume him completely.
"DAMN YOU MERLIN. DAMN YOU!" his yell of anger and frustration could be heard throughout the kingdom.
And that's chapter seven for you. Lol at Arthur's life: thinking it had been days since he'd last asked after Merlin, when really it's only been hours XD I like how CeeRat noticed how I've kind of split this story up... giving you three in one :) I'm thinking, as I go on, the stories are going to kind of switch places, as in while Merlin's part is most important at the moment, later on it will change to Arthur's with Gwaine and Godfrey hovering around there in the middle... oh, and I couldn't remember whether Merlin was meant to be the ONLY warlock who was born with magic but, hey, for the purpose of this fic, Sarah was also born with her gifts :) See you with chapter eight, hopefully on Friday. Please review :D
I just remembered! The spell in this fic is Welsh for "Fall the ground, your head upon a rock", so that's what Merlin was hoping to happen. I thought it sounded kind of cool when you said it in Welsh...
