Merlin found Arthur in his chamber, but rather than sitting at his desk beginning the morning's work, he was staring out the window with one foot on the sill and a faraway look on his face. He did not even remark on his advisor bursting in without knocking.
"Arthur, the correspondence to be dealt with before the Council meeting is on top." He wondered if there would be time to brief the king on the current standoff between the joiners' guild and the masons' guild. "The meeting notes are in this pile, but first you need to review this missive from Nemeth – King Rodor has proposed a unique solution to settle the dispute over Gedref."
"Let them have Gedref." Arthur remained poised in the window, staring out at the grey morning with a foolish grin on his face.
"I've drafted a response … what?"
"Let Nemeth have those lands. Then everyone will be happy."
Merlin blinked. "Not so sure how happy that wold make the Camelot citizens who live there," he muttered to himself.
"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" Arthur remarked in a dreamy voice that sounded nothing like his usual arrogant tone.
Merlin looked at the drizzle beyond the window, barely lit by a sun hidden behind dark cloud banks. "Beautiful weather if you're a toad."
Arthur chuckled. Merlin checked the table to see if it contained any empty wine jugs or flagons of mead and then tried to sense whether any magical object was nearby which might be causing such odd behaviour.
Arthur turned from the window. "Set that stuff aside – we have work to do. A lot of effort goes into organizing a tournament, and we'll need food – lots of food, the best wine, and flowers – see if you can find flowers this time of year."
"Why? What?" He shuffled a few of the parchments in his hands, wondering if he had missed something.
"For the wedding, Merlin." Arthur smiled as he punched his dumbstruck friend in the shoulder.
"So you're going to marry Princess Mithian?"
A confused look replaced the self-satisfied smile on Arthur's face. "Who?"
"What wedding?" Merlin demanded, out of patience.
"Guinevere is going to marry me."
"You should ask her first."
"I already did."
Finally the king's strange behaviour made sense. "She said yes?"
"Well, she didn't say anything at first," Arthur said with a slight frown. "But then she did say yes." The smile came back in full force.
"She's the one who needs an adviser," Merlin said.
"You can't spoil my good mood today," Arthur laughed. Then he sobered slightly. "Not even an army of the dead could ruin this."
Merlin shuddered. "Don't jinx it."
As Merlin left the king's chamber with a list of tasks required for a royal wedding, he caught sight of Guinevere, a load of bedclothes in her arms, enter a chamber down the hall. He approached the door of the room to see her standing by the bed, the linens in a pile and a faraway look on her face.
"Good morning, Gwen."
"Oh, Merlin, you startled me." She beamed in answer to his grin. "Arthur told you?"
"He couldn't hold it in. Are you sure you want to settle for one of those big, muscle-y save-the-world types?"
Gwen gave him a reproachful look that was belied by the smile lighting up her eyes. "How could I say no?"
Merlin opened his mouth but she did not wait to hear his advice.
"He came up behind me when I was making beds and blindfolded me, said he had something to show me. He led me to my own house and when he took off the blindfold the whole room was filled with candles."
"I wonder who helped him plan that," Merlin said under his breath.
"Then he asked if I would be his wife and he gave me his ring." She looked down at the royal band, large on her small finger, and squeezed her other hand around it.
"Gwen, I'm happy for you."
She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Merlin."
"You know," he observed. "The future Queen of Camelot probably shouldn't be making beds."
Gwen looked down at the pile of linen with an expression of surprise. "What does a queen do all day?" she asked.
Merlin shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm still figuring all this out," he indicated the pile of parchments under his arm. "Not the work, I mean …"
"A new place in a new age?" Gwen gazed up at him.
Merlin saw complete understanding in her face. "Yes."
The council meeting was in its fifth hour and Arthur found Geoffrey's monotone hard to concentrate on at the best of times. Five hours in the stuffy room under a cloud of candle smoke, the little bit of sunlight strained through red and yellow glass, was not the best of times. How had his father endured it year after year? The king sat straighter on the hard wooden chair to force himself to pay attention.
"The other rulers of the Five Kingdoms will of course attend. Lord Godwyn and Lord Bayard have also indicated they will be here to pay their respects on the occasion of your marriage."
Arthur raised his brows at that last piece of information. "Does that mean Bayard intends to renew the treaty he struck with my father?" A royal wedding was not solely a social occasion; there would be a great deal of politicking, not the least of which would revolve around Camelot's repeal of its anti-magic laws which violated various treaties with its nearest neighbours.
Heads around the council table turned to the speaker with the same question in their eyes.
"We will be certain to subtly indicate in our gracious acceptance that such is a requirement of receiving him. No more sniffing at our borders will be tolerated." Geoffrey opened his mouth to continue.
"Sire," a new voice interrupted.
The king managed not to grind his teeth at what he knew Lord Aguisel would say. Again. Merlin's sudden advancement had stuck in more than a few throats. A bastard peasant boy having the king's ear had been tolerated as long as he knew his place as a servant, but his position on the Privy Council had raised more than a few hackles, Aguisel's in particular. And now rumours had surfaced about sorcery being used in the battle to retake Camelot and who might be responsible. At least some of those rumours had to have reached Merlin's ears, but to Arthur's knowledge his friend was unaware of the uglier tales swirling around his head.
"I would like to note once more that this decision to marry was made without due consideration for the valuable advice of this Council, as has been the case with other questionable decisions made recently by Your Highness." The meaning of Aguisel's glare in Merlin's direction was not lost on anyone.
A glance at Merlin's thinly pressed lips told Arthur his friend was barely holding his anger in check. 'I could take you apart with less than that,' the dark-haired, big-eared peasant boy had challenged in Camelot's dusty street and Arthur had laughed, judging the skinny newcomer by his appearance. Aguisel was a fool to make the same mistake. However, Merlin was human and vulnerable should the hateful talk turn to action. It would be best to placate the noble.
"Thank you, Lord Aguisel." Arthur was proud that his tone was polite while he weighed yet again whether it was less dangerous to have the man at court stirring up resentment or away at his own estate hatching who knew what. He would not have dared to cross Uther, but Arthur was not known for the same ruthlessness. "I will endeavour to accord the Council's collective wisdom the respect it is due in future. Leon, any news of the Saxons?"
"My lord, so far they have kept to the Saxon Shore, but King Alined and King Olaf in the south continue to watch the border carefully."
"Have the Saxons begun to call up their citizenry to mount an assault?"
"There is at least some truth to those rumours." Leon looked uneasy. "Sire, I don't believe either Dyfed or Gwynedd alone could hold off the Saxons if they choose to extend their boundaries."
Arthur nodded in agreement. "None of the Five Kingdoms alone can hope to defeat them; our only chance will be to stand together." The last time that had happened was when Uther Pendragon led their combined forces against the Saxons and driven them south and east where they remained so far. With Uther gone, apparently the Saxons believed the time was ripe to strike again.
"What of the East Saxons?" Tudwal asked. "Would Essetir be able to hold them back from our eastern border?
"King Lot is no friend of the Pendragons," Sir Ector said.
When the Five Kingdoms had temporarily banded together under Uther, Lot had refused to join them. He had successfully held his borders alone, but his forces were stretched now he had annexed Essetir to Lothian.
"He may have rejected previous offers of alliance, but nor will he endure a Saxon invasion," Arthur said. "The time is coming when the Five Kingdoms will need to band together with all the kingdoms of this land against our common foe." Which meant uniting the forces of Mercia, Gawant, and Caerleon as well as Essetir while keeping the Five Kingdoms allied when there was still division on the question of magic. Arthur sighed. It had been easier when his father had to deal with the political machinations and Arthur need only concern himself with military matters.
After the meeting finally ended and the others left the room, Merlin spoke. "You were right, all the kingdoms of Albion must stand united, but they cannot do so without one strong leader."
"When the need arises, one of the rulers will step forward to fill the role my father once took," Arthur said. "Possibly Gwyl or one of his sons, maybe Olaf. I hate to admit it, but frankly Lot would be a strong choice and he has no quarrel with magic."
Before Merlin could reply, Gwen entered the room.
Arthur's face lit up. "Guinevere!"
"Should I be concerned about the royal guests coming to compare me unfavourably with every princess in the realms?"
"You will charm each one of them and I will be the envy of all the rulers in this land." Arthur took her hand to escort her to a chair. "They are coming to give me the same drubbing the Council does, and over the same issues. King Alined especially hates magic."
"His jester's a sorcerer," Merlin said.
"What?" Arthur looked at his friend in astonishment.
"Trickler is a sorcerer." Merlin's brow crinkled. "Oh, that reminds me I never could remove the love spell from Lady Vivian. That might be a problem."
Arthur stared. "Anything else I should know before our guests arrive?"
"Elena was possessed by a Sidhe as an infant so they could have a Sidhe queen on the throne of Camelot when your marriage was eventually arranged." Merlin gave the king an innocent look. "But it's okay, it's taken care of."
Arthur blinked.
"I like Elena," Gwen said. "I can't say the same of Vivian. She was absolutely horrible to all the servants."
Merlin nodded. "Some of the nobility think they earned the right to be waited on hand and foot simply by being born."
"And they treat the slightest inconvenience to them as a tragedy," Gwen said. "But if you sit down for a moment they accuse you of being lazy."
"Like they believe they're better than you and you were put on this earth to make their lives comfortable."
"And you have no thoughts or feelings yourself or anything better to do in that moment."
Arthur looked from one to the other. "If the two of you are going to gossip for the rest of the evening perhaps we should summon some underappreciated servant to light the torches." He gestured at the deepening shadows in the room.
Merlin waved a hand and flame sprung to the resinous wood tucked in sconces around the room.
Arthur started.
"Oh, sorry," Merlin said with a grin.
Certain his friend was needling him, Arthur was about to snap a curt admonishment when Gwen sent Merlin a reproachful look. Arthur smirked at Merlin's flush.
"Really I am sorry. I'm getting used to doing things the easy way. Gaius doesn't mind so much anymore if I take a few short cuts."
Arthur caught the implication of that statement. "What shortcuts did you take before?"
"Well, sometimes my chores had to get done quickly and I had other things to do."
His innocent expression was hiding either embarrassment or amusement.
"You used magic as my servant?"
Merlin rolled his eyes.
"You could have been caught," Arthur said to hide his discomfort with the idea of sorcery being used so freely around him without his noticing.
"That's what Gaius kept telling me."
It was definitely amusement on his friend's face.
Gwen gazed at the torches. "Can you put them out that easily, too?"
A cold breeze swept through the room, extinguishing the torches and half the candles.
"Merlin!" Arthur said.
"That wasn't me," Merlin protested. "That was the wind."
"Perhaps you can be more circumspect around our royal visitors," Arthur said with a quelling glare. It would be difficult enough playing diplomat without Merlin deliberately provoking fear among magic-haters and while his own knights trusted his judgement and trusted Merlin, many of their visitors were virtual strangers to both of them.
"The knights will be in seventh heaven with all the available females accompanying the queens to Camelot," Merlin said.
"They won't constrain themselves to the available ones." Gwen smiled.
"Hopefully the knights are better at romantic gestures than Arthur," Merlin said.
Gwen looked at him inquiringly.
"Is he really holding a tournament in your honour before the wedding?"
"It's tradition." Arthur sniffed. "My father did the same before his marriage ceremony."
Merlin shook his head in mock sadness. "And here I thought you were completely different from Uther."
Arthur felt his gut tighten at the harmless jest. "I may disagree with certain of my father's attitudes, but he was a strong king. We'll be lucky if this land enjoys peace from the Saxons for half as long as we have since he defeated them thirty years ago."
His friend's face whitened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean …"
"It's okay Merlin." Arthur forced a smile to lighten the mood again. "You know nothing about royal weddings."
"I know you could have picked flowers or had a poem written for your future wife and instead you're giving her two days of sweaty men knocking the sense out of each other."
Gwen gazed fondly at Arthur. "I understand. And I'm flattered."
"Not to put too fine a point on it, Merlin," Arthur smirked. "But I'm the one who has the girl."
Over the years, the citizens of Camelot had grown accustomed to Arthur's manservant barrelling his way through crowds on one urgent errand or another. They had learned to dodge out of his way and respond to his shouted apologies with good-natured curses. Now it struck Merlin how people in the bustling palace corridors and on the busy streets silently moved aside no matter how sedate his pace, refusing to meet his eyes as though afraid of catching his attention. He hunched his shoulders as he made his way through the city. Once or twice a voice in the crowd shouted an insult about sorcerers but never so he could identify his heckler.
Merlin had overheard a few of the exaggerated tales about a dragon attacking the city again, the stories getting more outlandish as they were spurred on by Aguisel and Tudwal and others like them. His sudden new position after being banished from the king's side raised suspicions about him and people were linking facts with wild speculations, painting him as an evil usurper and Arthur as his puppet.
He walked more quickly through the streets toward the blacksmith's forge, hoping he could locate the missing queen-to-be. George had come to him distressed that he could not find Gwen. The palace was near bursting with all the visiting royalty along with their retinues and George had been run off his feet organizing the palace servants and smoothing relations between Camelot staff and the guests' own servants. The normally impeccably-dressed, capable manservant was wrinkled and haggard and now the king's betrothed was missing. She was not in her rooms or anywhere else in the citadel. George had already searched everywhere Merlin could think of except the one place no one else would look.
"Gwen?" Merlin knocked and slowly pushed open the door of Gwen's modest dwelling near the forge. To his knowledge, she kept it despite having moved into her new chambers in the palace.
She sat at the rough-hewn table, wearing one of her servant dresses which she had expertly sewn herself, her hair in a simple but serviceable twist. A jug of wine was on the table along with a goblet, although he had not known her to drink except with meals.
She looked up at him with teary eyes. "I can't do it," she said. "I can't sing, I never say the correctly ladylike thing, those clothes were too warm, and my hair was being pulled out of my scalp."
Merlin thought the crown of braids with a cascade of dark curls down her back had been quite becoming. "Gwen, did something happen today when you were entertaining the other queens?"
She regarded him with red and swollen eyes. "I was so nervous I picked up the tray and offered refreshments to Queen Ysmay instead of letting the serving girl do it and Ysmay looked at me like I had offered to dance naked in front of them. Then Queen Eleynora snickered and said something in a loud whisper to her lady about serving girls dressing up as royalty."
"Is that all?" Merlin asked, holding back a smile.
"The meat that was butchered for today's meal went bad and we're going to have to feed them all fish tonight and the wine for the wedding feast went sour and the flowers wilted even though they were fresh yesterday and it will take days to get more! My wedding gown is torn." She indicated the pile of bejewelled red cloth which had been tossed on the bed along with the finely beaded gown she had been wearing earlier. "This wedding is cursed!"
"The dress will be mended and so what if royalty have to eat fish tonight?" Merlin crouched beside her chair and took one of her hands. "You're marrying Arthur and he loves you."
He could see a little of the stress of the past few weeks drain out of her.
"That's right," Gwen said. She put her other hand on top of his and squeezed. "I almost forgot that's what this is all about. Thank you, Merlin."
Merlin squeezed back. "I had to remind myself, too." He regarded her closely. "Are you ready to go back to your chamber so I can put George out of his misery and tell him where to find you?"
"Not yet." Gwen gazed around the homey little dwelling she had occupied with her father and then by herself. "I like it here. Everything in this hut is all mine, and it's exactly where I chose to put it."
"In time it will be the same in your new chamber; it'll feel like home," Merlin said.
Gwen gave him a quelling look. "You can talk. I know Arthur offered you the apartments Agravaine used but you're still living in an old storage room in the physician's chamber."
Gwen had seen through his excuses about why he needed to stay in his little room rather than the lavish apartments a king's adviser was expected to have. Merlin had no doubt that she was also aware of how people seemed apprehensive around him now, how whispered conversations halted when he walked by, making life in the palace lonely for him.
"Gaius needs me there," Merlin said.
"What would he say to that excuse?"
Merlin grinned. "Probably something caustic said with one eyebrow reaching his hairline."
They both smiled.
"You know, I have another goblet around here," Gwen offered.
Merlin thought about the paperwork, the cold stares and furtive looks, waiting for him back in the citadel, then he took the chair opposite Gwen. "Let George pull his hair out for a while longer. I have time for a drink."
A few hours later, Gwen tried to stand and then flopped back down in her chair with a giggle. Merlin turned to look at her and the room spun briefly.
She leaned over conspiratorially and asked, "Why don't you have a girl, Merlin?"
His eyebrows went up in an imitation of Gaius.
"Seriously," Gwen said. "Other than a glazed look in your eyes whenever Morgana used to walk by, you haven't looked twice at a woman."
Merlin stared into the depths of his cup. "How would you know?"
A smile spread across her face. "Well, tell me about her."
He sighed. "Gwen, I promise you, that is not something I want to talk about."
His tortured expression must have convinced her to leave off questioning him further because she sat back, looking disappointed. "Well, if she made you aware of her then she has my respect."
"I'm aware of more that's gone on around here than anybody else in Camelot," he said.
"Big things maybe, but you are completely clueless about other things." He made a rude noise but she was undeterred. "Sefa's been making eyes at you since she got here."
He tried to concentrate through the fuzziness in his head. "Who?"
"The new maidservant."
"Pretty girl with reddish-brown hair?" He remembered a time when he had thought she intended to ask him something, but his attention had been called elsewhere and he had forgotten about it.
"You have noticed her." Gwen smiled. "But then I suppose since everyone knows you have the king's ear you're besieged with people who want to use your influence." She exhaled noisily, blowing a lock of hair out of her face.
Merlin wondered if she was talking about him or herself.
"It's the falseness that annoys me the most," she continued. "Like Lord Elgin talking about honour and loyalty and faithfulness like I haven't worked closely for the last however many years with the maids who change his bedsheets, including the ones who share that bed."
Merlin chuckled. "The courtiers believe that because they never noticed you before, you were equally unaware of them."
"I guess it's all valuable knowledge I can put to good use now," Gwen sighed. "At least Arthur's not like that. He treats everyone equally."
Merlin choked on his wine, coughing and spluttering until Gwen patted his back.
She laughed at the expression on his face. "I know he used to be an arrogant, overbearing prat but you changed that."
Merlin slanted her a look, still coughing. "You only think so because he's on his best behaviour around you – he knows you'll take him down a peg if he steps out of line." His tone grew more serious. "You're good for him, Gwen. You'll make a wonderful queen."
"Thank you, Merlin." Gwen patted his arm.
"Gwen, are you ever …" Merlin stared into his goblet. "Are you ever glad Uther is dead?"
Her dark eyebrows knitted beneath a few tight dark curls that trailed across her forehead. "I know Arthur would never be able to marry me, or even acknowledge our relationship if Uther was still alive, but I'm not glad he's dead. I know how much Arthur misses him. But I am pleased to have this chance at happiness and I intend to enjoy every moment of being by Arthur's side without any more hiding or pretending." She leaned closer and put a hand on his arm. "It's okay if you're happy that Uther is gone and Arthur is king now. That doesn't mean you're a bad person."
Her warm smile and soft touch were as comforting as her words. Merlin felt a knot of guilt ease.
"I should get back now." Gwen got up from her chair but she swayed slightly when she did.
"I'll help you." Merlin jumped to his feet only to have the world tilt. He grabbed the table to keep from falling.
Gwen giggled again, balancing herself with some difficulty. "You're going to be a lot of help."
"Maybe I should get someone," Merlin said, choosing practicality over gallantry.
"That would be a good idea." Gwen grinned. "Someone discreet who never steps out of line and won't breathe a word of this to anyone."
They looked at each other and said simultaneously, "George!"
No effort had been spared to impress the kings meeting with Arthur in Camelot's throne room. Red banners with the distinctive gold dragon hung wherever there was space, red silk cushions graced the chairs, and every guard and servant wore his finest court livery. The ostentatious display did not, however, prevent the rulers of the Five Kingdoms and its allies from attempting to assert their influence on Camelot's young sovereign. They had attempted to dissuade Arthur from marrying Guinevere, then launched into an attack on his new policies regarding sorcery.
"If your father were here." Lord Bayard stood. He drew himself up to his full impressive height, towering over the other monarchs seated around the table, and glared directly at Arthur.
"He isn't," Arthur said, meeting the other king's eyes and not allowing his gaze to waver.
"More's the pity," Bayard said contemptuously. "Sorcery is a blight on this land."
He gave up trying to stare down the young ruler and glanced around at the others in the room. King Rodor and King Alined were in open agreement with him, not that anyone trusted Alined.
"You are young, Arthur," grey-haired King Rodor said. "Too young to understand."
"You may be too quick to dismiss Arthur solely for his youth," King Olaf said. "He showed wisdom as well as fighting skill when he faced me in single combat. The peace and security of the Five Kingdoms has rested on the treaty forged that day."
"I said he would make a great king one day," elderly Lord Godwyn said. "All I have seen and heard in the years since has strengthened that assessment."
Bayard frowned. "Yet he openly tolerates sorcery, even to using it in his recent battle to retake this very city which Arthur nearly lost."
"Lost due to treachery and deceit," King Gwyl said. His bushy white beard moved when he talked but his lips were all but invisible between moustache and beard. "Yet he triumphed in the end, and why would you condemn him for using such a powerful tool? A king with magic at his side is a king to follow."
Arthur blinked in surprise at the wink he received from white-haired King Gwyl. Was that a sign of approval? Arthur remembered his father complaining that Gwyl's kingdom was a haven for the Druids; that their presence was tolerated even to the point of being a sanctuary for those of the Old Religion. A warm feeling uncurled in the pit of his stomach at the open support from Olaf, Godwyn, and Gwyl – all many years his senior who had been ruling kingdoms when Arthur was a babe.
"The Saxons will not long be content with the land they occupy along the Saxon Shore," Arthur said. "We all know they have cast their eyes west and north for a generation and when they make their bid to expand their territory we must stand together. If we allow disagreement over magic," he looked at Bayard, "or a dispute over land," he looked at Rodor, "to divide us, never turning against our common enemy, we are lost."
There was a hush among the rulers of the Five Kingdoms at his words. Even Rodor could not dispute the wisdom of the youngest monarch among them.
Camelot's king stood. "I will see you all at the supper banquet."
Arthur maintained his look of quiet resolve as his royal counterparts made their way out of the room followed by their advisors and guards. After the door closed behind them, Arthur allowed his head to drop into his arms.
"That went well," Merlin commented, deadpan, stepping forward to sit in a chair beside the king.
Arthur did not lift his head. "At least we established that my choice of wife was no concern of theirs."
"Why should it be?"
Arthur turned his head so one eye could focus on his friend.
"The Five Kingdoms are allies," Merlin said. "None of them has anything to gain by a strategic marriage, Bayard has no daughter, and Godwyn seems happy to have Elena ruling beside him."
"I suppose." Arthur lifted his head to meet the sorcerer's eyes. "In Camelot my word is law, but I have no authority to lift the ban on sorcery in the other kingdoms. They agreed with my father that magic was an evil plague on this land and maybe at the time it was the right thing to do." Arthur ignored the stubborn look that came into Merlin's face. "These men were ruling kingdoms when I was in the cradle, who am I to tell them what is best for these lands?"
"For all your many faults you are honest and brave and true-hearted and one day you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. They will all look to you as their leader."
Arthur regarded him. "Are you taking up prophecy now?"
"No." Merlin shuddered.
It sounded like the voice of experience and Arthur wondered if it was possible for his friend to see future events.
"But I believe in you, I always have," Merlin said.
The armoury echoed with the rattle of chain mail and the scrape of blades being sharpened as Merlin entered the room. The knights who had returned from daily patrol were removing their armour and weapons to be cleaned and stowed. Percival was quietly sharpening his sword. George was collecting the king's armour, the tips of his ears red at the ribald jests being exchanged.
Merlin smiled to himself at how the arrival of a dozen ladies-in-waiting and their maids combined with anticipation of the upcoming tournament had lightened the mood among those who had survived the last battle for Camelot.
A cold draft fluttered the pennants on the wall. Merlin frowned and looked more closely at the rack of weapons behind Percival, not certain what seemed out of place. Shaking his head when he could see nothing amiss, he turned to look for the First Knight.
"Leon, Arthur would like to speak with you," Merlin said. "He's in the throne room and will be for some time yet."
Message delivered, he was about to leave when a cold stare drilled into his back.
"Careful, Sir Leon. You know you can't trust a word that comes out of a sorcerer's mouth." Sir Gaheris said. "They're evil and a curse on all good people around them."
Gwaine came to his feet, fists at the ready, and Percival stopped sharpening his blade, ready to step in if needed. Gwaine's glare caused most men with any sense of self-preservation to back down from an argument with him, but Gaheris appeared to be bursting for a fight.
"I would trust Merlin with my life," Gwaine stated icily, tossing his dark hair back from his face.
"Well, the life of a commoner isn't worth much, is it?" Gaheris said. "King Uther must be rolling over in his grave at all the changes going on around here."
"Sir Gaheris."
Reluctantly the knight pulled his eyes away from Gwaine's challenging gaze in answer to Leon's command.
"Take our report to the next patrol while I meet with the king," the First Knight ordered.
Gaheris looked back at Gwaine, both silently acknowledging there would be a future reckoning, then the older knight left to carry out his orders.
Gwaine rounded on Leon as soon as the Gaheris left the armoury. "That's it? No reprimand, no punishment, nothing to tell him he can't speak about Merlin like that?"
"He has served this kingdom faithfully since boyhood, and you expect him to accept overnight that everything he has been fighting for was wrong?"
The dark-haired knight gave Leon a disgusted look.
"We served together as squires and then as knights," Leon continued. "I've known Gaheris a long time and he's a good soldier and a good man."
"Is that why you're defending him?" Gwaine challenged.
"I'm not defending him, I am willing to understand," Leon said.
"Did you also hunt and murder sorcerers with him?" sneered the younger knight.
"Gwaine!" Elyan said.
Leon made no response to the cutting taunt. Deliberately holding his obvious anger in check, he spun on his heel and left the armoury, giving Merlin an apologetic glance as he passed.
It was Elyan who broke the tension in the air. "Gaheris doesn't speak for all of us or even most of us," Elyan said to Merlin. "Gwaine doesn't either, usually, but in this case … I also would trust you with my life."
"As would I," Percival added.
Merlin's mouth opened and closed, choked at their faith in him and their willingness to declare it. "Thank you," he finally managed. "And thanks, Gwaine."
"Any time, my friend," he answered gruffly.
In the subsequent silence, George noisily gathered up the armour which needed polishing.
The knights masked any emotion they might have revealed by their declaration of loyalty as Percival resumed sharpening his blade and Gwaine and Elyan went back to stowing their chain mail.
George expertly balanced his load as he paused in front of Merlin. "What that knight said about sorcerers – he doesn't speak for anyone else in Camelot, either."
Merlin looked at George in surprise. They had exchanged barely an occasional word and Merlin realized he knew little about the king's new manservant including his replacement's views on magic. "Thank you. And good luck with that," he indicated the pile of armour.
George's face lit up. "Polishing is my favourite."
Merlin tried to mask his disbelief that anyone could enjoy the task. "Yes it's my favourite, too," he lied politely.
"Really?" George exclaimed eagerly. "Is it the relaxation of having your hands busy while your mind is free to drift, or is it seeing how the metal starts to shine under your efforts?"
"Umm," Merlin mumbled.
"I'd like to show you a trick or two I've learned and we can compare notes."
Merlin found himself being shepherded out by the enthusiastic George.
"You're free right now, aren't you?" he went on. "And you could tell me of any special preferences the king has which he hasn't had time to instruct me about."
As he was half-dragged out the door Merlin looked helplessly back at Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival but not one of them saw fit to rescue him this time, not bothering to hide their amused grins.
Gwen enjoyed her moment of solitude even though she had to go to the oldest, most deserted corner of the castle to get it. She was tired of being in the company of guests whose conversation ranged from well-meaning but condescending advice to veiled insults. Between the curiosity of their royal guests and the fussing of the two ladies' maids who had been assigned to prepare her chambers, oversee an entire wardrobe for her, dress her hair in a dozen experimental ways, instruct her in music, and generally transform a maidservant into a queen, Gwen had had enough of being taken apart and reassembled.
The silence in the drafty corridor was broken only by the scrabbling of mice disturbed by the light from the candle she carried. It was cool and dark here where no torches had been lit, with a musty smell that combined with the dust in the air to tickle her nose. It was cool as well, the thick stone walls which kept out the spring breezes also kept out any warmth from the sun, especially in the corridor where no windows let in the afternoon daylight.
Gwen shivered as a cold breeze moved past her, rattling the empty wall sconces and causing her candle to flicker. Her eyes were drawn to the dark corners of the hallway and she could not resist holding the candle higher, peering intently at the empty space to see if something was looking back at her malevolently. Chiding herself for being spooked, Gwen decided she had best return to the bustle and press of wedding preparations.
As she moved toward the staircase at the end of the corridor, another cold breeze caused her to shiver, more with a feeling of dread than chill. She spun around, her eyes darting left and right, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. But the hallway was empty, no sound of a footfall to be heard.
Shaking her head at her own foolishness, no doubt due to stress, Gwen started again toward the stairs. When she reached the top step, a cold breeze extinguished the candle she was holding as the rush of air propelled her forward. Her foot touched nothing but emptiness in the sudden dark and with a cry she felt herself tumble down the long flight of stone stairs.
"Are you all right, Gwen?"
She heard Merlin's familiar voice and tried to remember where she was. She recalled a dark hallway and a flight of steps, but she could feel the softness of a bed beneath her now. She lifted her hand which caused a shooting pain to cut through the dull ache she had begun to feel in her shoulder.
"Gaius says not to move the arm much," Merlin said. "He set the broken bone but it needs time to heal and you have quite a few bruises. This will reduce the pain."
Gwen wrinkled her nose at the smell of the tiny bottle her friend offered.
"You gave everyone a scare when you disappeared. I think Arthur believed you had second thoughts and left Camelot." The lightness in Merlin's voice was belied by a look of concern on his face.
Gwen squinted at him through the aches making themselves felt now that she was conscious. He had not asked her what she was doing in that part of the castle; she was sure he understood why she had found a lonely, quiet spot.
"I better let Arthur know you're awake."
"Merlin." Gwen's voice was hoarse. "Before I fell, I thought, well it sounds silly but …"
The seriousness in her voice had him bending close to hear her next words.
"It seemed like there was something watching me, something that wished me ill, even though there was no one there."
Merlin poked at the slice of venison soaked in gravy.
Gaius looked from the barely-touched meal to his ward's vacant stare. "Percival is fine if that's what you're worried about."
Merlin glanced up. "Percival?"
"There was an accident in the armoury after they returned from the last patrol."
"The knights are never careless with weapons."
"Yes, it sounded strange. Neither Gwaine nor Elyan gave a coherent answer to my question about what happened. Something about a rack tipping over and sending weapons flying through the air. I was quite surprised a falling axe caused such a deep wound; Percival was lucky it only struck his shoulder or he could have been severely injured. Elyan barely escaped injury as well, they said."
Merlin gave up any pretense of eating. "What do you know about curses?"
"Is Lord Aguisel bothering you that much?"
"I don't want to cast one, I want to stop one."
Gaius folded his hands in front of him without speaking.
"Gwen said this wedding was cursed, and I think she's right."
"Why do you think that?"
"She told me that before she fell she thought something was watching her."
"People often feel like that in a dark corner. And Gwen has been under a lot of pressure lately," Gaius said.
"The other evening in the armoury, I felt something out of place. It must have been just before Percival was injured."
The old man wrinkled his brow. "Out of place?"
Merlin shrugged. "I can't explain it, I'm not even certain I really noticed anything. But it was like Gwen said, there was a presence."
"Do you think it's Morgana?" Gaius asked. "She opposes this marriage and she has the power to cast a curse."
"Maybe. I don't know." Merlin gazed at him. "But what is it exactly and how do we stop it?"
"I don't know," the physician admitted. "We'll have to wait and keep our eyes peeled." Gaius fixed his ward with a sharp look. "Be careful."
"I always am." Merlin gave him an innocent look when his guardian's eyebrow rose to his white hairline. Then the young man grew serious again. "Gaius, do you wish I would take the rooms in the palace Arthur offered to me?"
The old man was taken aback. "No. Why would I?"
His ward looked at the meal they were sharing which Gaius had prepared. "It would be less work for you if I wasn't here."
"Yes it would," the physician admitted softly. "But I fear my heart could not stand the peace and quiet."
Merlin was the only one left in the Council chambers. He was glad to be alone for a moment because the glares he had received from a few of those in the room – Aguisel and Tudwal foremost among them – weighed on him. He had thought time would bring them around, but as the weeks passed it became clear that some of those closest to the throne would never tolerate a sorcerer or a peasant boy in their midst. If not for Arthur and Gaius and Lord Ector along with Gwen's support, Merlin would have despaired that the prejudiced attitudes Uther had fostered could be changed.
He shivered as a breath of cold brushed past him, then his attention was caught by the vacant chair at the head of the table. He felt someone sitting there, staring at him hatefully, even though there was no one else in the room. Shaking his head, he turned back to the task at hand. With a flash of gold in his blue eyes, the parchments, ink well, quills, and royal seal gathered themselves into a neat pile, but before he could collect them another cold breeze swept around the room extinguishing every torch and the candles on the table.
"Bæl on bryne." When his spell re-lit the flames his eyes snapped back to the vacant chair as if he had heard a silent scream of rage. The chair launched itself at him with enough force to break bones, but his eyes flashed and it slammed to a halt like it had hit a stone wall, falling to the floor with a crash. At that, the anger he could feel in the room became palpable, the air whirling faster and faster, creating a maelstrom of scrolls, ink, and quills.
Merlin dodged the first few items which came hurtling out of the mini-whirlwind but when another chair launched itself at him he raised his hands and sent a blast of magic at whatever was angrily stirring the atmosphere in the chamber. As if a stronger wind had come along to blow the whirlwind away, all the items that had been spinning in the air were whisked toward the wall, bouncing off it or fluttering to the ground until all was still.
Merlin waited for a long moment, but he could no longer feel any other presence in the room. He gathered up the seal and parchments leaving everything else where it had fallen and went to find Arthur.
Merlin burst into the royal chamber without ceremony, a stack of scrolls under his arm. "There is evil here."
Arthur did not bother to point out that his advisor had barged in without knocking again. He had just removed his court jacket which George was meticulously brushing before putting it in its proper place. Merlin acknowledged George with a small smile.
"Why do you say that?" Arthur asked, wondering what gibberish his friend was going to spout about another of his funny feelings.
"I don't think Gwen's fall down the stairs was an accident. She told me she thought there was a presence before she tripped, and just now I was alone in the Council chamber when I felt a presence, an angry presence. And it's getting stronger – it threw chairs around the room."
Arthur pinned him with a look. "You think Guinevere is in danger?"
"She might be." Merlin held the king's gaze steadily. "I think there's a curse on this wedding."
"Is it Morgana's doing?" The king braced himself to face her next threat.
Merlin's brow creased. "Maybe, but it didn't feel like it."
"Feel like it?" Despite his worry for Gwen, Arthur tried to be patient, wishing this was something solid, something he could fight.
Merlin ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe the curse is about more than the wedding, maybe it's on all the changes you're making. It seemed the more I used magic, the angrier the presence or whatever it was got."
"What do we do?" Arthur demanded.
"Make sure Gwen is never alone, have everyone alert for strange occurrences, and tell me if anything else happens. I'm going to talk to Gaius."
Arthur awoke from his dream and lay quietly, breathing deeply, waiting for his rapid heartbeat to calm. It had been so real. Usually when he woke he could not recall his dreams, uncertain if he even had any. But this one was etched in his memory: his father standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at him with a furious expression. Arthur shuddered at the malevolence of that stare – it had been inhuman. Of all the rages he had seen his father fall into, this one had been colder and more vengeful, as if his own father wished him dead.
The king sat up and looked at the foot of his bed, half expecting the apparition to be standing there, then frowned to see the royal crown atop his footboard. George would never be so inattentive as to leave such a valuable item lying there, not even Merlin would have been so careless. When he thought about it, Arthur realized the crown should not be there at all – it should be locked safely away, waiting for the upcoming ceremony.
As he watched, puzzled, the crown lifted into the air and hurtled itself directly at him. Instinctively he ducked, hearing metal crunch into the headboard behind him. Before he could ponder how that had happened, the royal seal lifted from his work table and launched itself at his head. Again he ducked, leaping up to draw his sword – although there was no physical enemy to fight – and calling for the guards. A cold breeze whipped past him as his chamber doors were flung open and the guards rushed in.
"Sire?"
Arthur looked around in the faint moonlight from the windows but there was no one else in the room. He sheathed his sword and ran a hand through his hair. "Summon George for me."
The guards looked at one another in confusion. "Is there anything else, Sire?" one asked hesitantly.
"No."
When George arrived, Arthur asked him to light every torch and candle in the room and bring a jug of wine. "The strongest wine you can lay your hands on."
He was on his second cup, fingers drumming the table top, when the door opened again. The king glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his solitude.
"Arthur?"
The king downed his wine. "What are you doing here?"
"George sent for me," Merlin said.
"I never asked him to do that."
"You said he anticipates your every need." Merlin's tone was bland but a tiny smile twitched the corners of his mouth.
"Another servant who takes it upon himself to do what he thinks best without consulting me? Seriously? Is it me, am I cursed?" Arthur filled the cup again.
"I don't know, are you? George came to say you were up and dressed in the middle of the night and calling for strong wine. He looked concerned about you." Merlin took a chair facing Arthur. "Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?"
Arthur sighed. "I know who's been causing all the trouble and it isn't Morgana, it's my father."
"Uther's dead."
"I saw my father tonight, standing in my room, and I got the impression, I mean it seemed like …" Arthur paused and took a deep breath. "I believe he wanted to kill me. I thought it was just a dream but it felt real – especially when it started throwing things at me. It is Father's spirit, or some part of him that's angry enough to want to kill Guinevere, and probably you, and maybe me." Arthur swirled the contents of his freshly filled cup, staring into its depths. "It seems my father doesn't approve of the way I have chosen to rule his kingdom."
"You mean your kingdom," Merlin said.
Arthur acknowledged the reproach with a glance before he went back to staring into his cup. "I thought I'd never see my father again. There isn't a day that passes when I don't think of him. There are times when I feel so alone, I wish more than anything he was by my side, and now I fear if he was at my side I wouldn't like what he had to say." Arthur looked up. "The decisions I have made; about the knights, about marrying Guinevere, about magic, what if my father was right and I'm wrong?"
"Do you believe that?" Merlin challenged, holding his friend's gaze.
Arthur dropped his eyes. "No," he said. "Guinevere is wise and strong, I trust her more than anyone, I know she will give me good counsel and solid support, and I love her with all my heart. And I have never had a moment's doubt about my knights."
Merlin stared at the floor. "Do you believe you were wrong about … about …"
Arthur gaze snapped to his friend's downcast expression. "About you, no." He waited for Merlin to look at him. "But I feel as if I have let my father down. He hasn't been dead a year and I have overturned his most deeply-held convictions. I always tried to please my father." He cursed himself for betraying his childish longing to please a demanding tyrant.
"No you didn't. You've always done what you believed to be right even if you knew your father would disapprove." Impatience slipped into the sorcerer's tone. "Do you not see how different you are from him? Camelot is a better place since you became king."
"My father doesn't think so."
"People respect you for your convictions, including the other monarchs."
The king was touched by his friend's unwavering support. "Thank you, Merlin."
"Some people still think you're a foolish, arrogant ass."
Arthur's forehead wrinkled. "Who?" At his friend's shrug he grimaced at having fallen for the jibe. "Very funny." He squeezed the cup tighter. "My father was taken from me before his time; there is still so much I had to learn from him. And he died saving my life."
"I understand," Merlin said quietly.
Remembering how Balinor had died, Arthur's expression softened. "At least you're assured your father would be proud of you, that you're carrying on the family tradition – whatever exactly that is. But mine apparently is angry enough to come back from the dead to stop me." He had watched his father rule alone, trusting no one, consumed by a hatred of magic that came from fear and bitterness, not strength. For all that he had been a strong king, his iron grip had begun to crack the foundation his kingdom was built on. Despite the love and respect Arthur had for his father, he had decided to rule the kingdom in his own way. Arthur straightened where he sat and set the third cup of wine aside. "How do we get rid of this spirit?"
Gaius got another book from the shelf in his workroom and passed it to Merlin to add to the growing pile on their table. Arthur sat on the stairs beneath the window, his gold hair haloed by the moonlight which faintly illuminated the physician's quarters. He watched the two of them pore over words that were unintelligible to him, talking gibberish and passing books back and forth while pointing out various passages to each other by the light of a half dozen candles.
At length, Gaius tapped a page as he passed the book he held to Merlin. Merlin ran his eyes down the page, flipped it over, and then returned the significant look his mentor had given him. He turned to Arthur. The king had a feeling he was not going to like whatever they were about to tell him.
"We have to go to Uther's crypt, pour salt on his body, and then burn it," Merlin explained.
Arthur's face took on a horrified expression. "He's the king!"
"Was the king," Merlin said.
"That's treason," Arthur protested desperately. "Can't you just …" His gesture indicated the use of magic.
In the face of his friend's distress, Merlin looked back at Gaius. "I drove it from the Council room," he said hopefully, although it was impossible for Merlin to stand personal guard simultaneously and constantly on Arthur, Gwen, and the knights.
The elderly physician shook his head sadly. "This is not a living creature, not even a magical creature. It has no body, no substance, although it can manifest physically to move objects. Even Merlin's power could not do more than temporarily banish it. I'm sorry, Sire."
"This is my father. Surely he would not actually harm me or anyone I loved."
"Arthur, you said yourself he wanted to kill you." Merlin's tone indicated he was trying to temper the harshness of his words. "It was only luck that Gwen broke her arm and not her neck, or that the axe entered Percival's shoulder instead of his chest. We cannot simply wait and hope the next attack fails."
Arthur clenched his jaw. "Fine. Do it."
Gaius and Merlin exchanged a look. Then Merlin spoke again. "It has to be you."
"What?" Arthur looked from one to the other but it seemed they were as reluctant to put such an onerous task on him as he was to take it on.
"The spirit is drawing strength from you," Gaius said, not flinching when the king's angry glare snapped to him. "From your guilt and doubt that you are right to go against the things your father stood for, from your longing to have him here to guide you."
"And now I have to desecrate his body?"
"If you do not, it will continue to vent its rage on you, on Guinevere, on the others, and no one will be safe," Gaius said.
Arthur turned to Merlin, hoping the sorcerer would contradict that, would offer to do this alone and never speak of it to him, but Merlin remained in silent agreement with his guardian. The king dropped his head into his hands.
Merlin glanced at his mentor and then back at his anguished friend. "Arthur, Gwen is in danger."
The king growled in submission before he got resolutely to his feet. "Let's go then."
"And be careful, the spirit will be stronger near the remains of its earthly body," Gaius cautioned as the two of them gathered what they would need before making their way to the tomb.
Arthur looked back over his shoulder. "How … stronger?"
"It may have physical form, be able to move larger objects and with more force, it may even have a voice," Gaius warned.
The crypt was a large room but sparsely appointed for all its vastness. Four candelabra stood sentinel at the four corners of the tomb itself – a stone coffin with a life-size likeness of King Uther elaborately carved on its lid.
Arthur stopped dead at the entrance to the cavernous room, his torch wavering slightly as his hand shook. "I don't know if I can do this." He whirled around, bumping into Merlin who was directly behind him. "Gaius said my father might have a voice, maybe I can talk with him – convince him to trust me, that he may have been wrong about magic, to halt his attacks."
"May have been?"
Acknowledging the soft reproof, Arthur said more forcefully, "That he was wrong about magic."
Merlin shook his head and gestured at the crypt with the torch he carried in his right hand, an armload of dry wood under his left. "We have to do this."
Arthur turned back to the crypt, taking several steps forward before he stopped again. "We won't be able to move the stone lid."
"I can," Merlin said.
Arthur heard Merlin speak a few words under his breath, not that Arthur would have understood the strange language even if he could have made out the words of the spell. The heavy stone begin to slide away. At the same moment he felt a cold breeze swirl around the room extinguishing both torches and every candle on all four stands.
"Bæl on bryne," Merlin whispered.
When flames touched the candles and the torches spouted to life, Arthur saw a shadowy outline form between himself and the tomb. A musty, chalky smell drifted from the partially opened crypt. The shadow took shape, looking increasingly like a man.
"I know it's you, Father." Arthur gripped his torch more tightly.
The figure that coalesced exactly resembled Uther, even to the familiar expression of fury Arthur had seen more often than he liked.
"Why are you here?" he challenged the spectre.
"To save you," the apparition said in Uther's voice. "And to save this kingdom."
"What do you mean?"
"Many of the decisions you have made since you became king go against all that I taught you. You have ignored our traditions, our ancient laws. And now you come here with a sorcerer by your side to destroy me." The word sorcerer was spit out as though acid dripped from the very word.
"You tried to kill Guinevere," Arthur accused.
"For your own good. How can a serving girl understand what it means to be queen?" The spirit flickered slightly even though it appeared to be gaining substance.
"Guinevere has proven herself to be valuable support and a true counsellor and I love her more than I can express."
"There are some things more important than love! It is your duty to strengthen and protect the kingdom, yet you have failed. Your whole life I tried to prepare you for the day you would become king; did you learn nothing?" Uther's angry voice grew louder with each rebuke.
Arthur was aware of the tears gathering in his eyes but was powerless to stop them. "I always strove to make you proud."
"How can I be proud of a son who ignores everything I taught him? Who is destroying my legacy?" The spectre grew more solid as though feeding on Arthur's self-doubt. "I did not spend my entire life building this kingdom to see my own son destroy it!"
"I'm not you, Father, I can't rule the way you did. I have to do what I believe to be right."
"You have weakened Camelot! The people cannot trust their king when a sorcerer has your ear, the other kings cannot trust you, the kingdom will fall or be torn apart by rebellion and war. There will be no peace within Camelot or without."
The spirit's dire predictions echoed in Arthur's head, reinforcing Bayard's words as well as Aguisel's and Tudwal's warnings.
Merlin stepped forward. "No! You're wrong."
The expression of loathing on the spectre deepened.
"Arthur is a better and more worthy king than you ever were and under him all the lands of Albion will be united."
"I will not allow you and your kind to poison my kingdom."
The sorcerer's eyes glowed and the stone lid with the intricately carved likeness was thrown aside as though it weighed no more than a stick, shattering against the wall.
"This is my kingdom," the spectre stated ominously. "You think you can drive me from it?"
Merlin stood his ground. "You've caused enough harm. You must find your place in the Other World."
The spirit quivered with rage. "It is you who is destroying my kingdom, whispering your poison in my son's ear, turning him from the path I set for him. They say you were sired by a demon and that is not far from the truth."
Merlin's expression was colder than Arthur had ever seen. "My father did as you asked and you betrayed him – you tried to murder him along with his kin, you hunted him and forced him to live like an animal."
"It would have been better if I had killed him. Rest assured that if I had known he left offspring I would have ensured your mother died and you with her."
Arthur flinched at the furious blast of magic from Merlin, but the apparition merely flickered, allowing the bright flash of power to explode against the stone wall in a spray of dust. The expression of pure hatred that came across the spirit turned Arthur's blood to ice. He felt that hate slam into Merlin like a solid force, throwing him across the chamber where he fell heavily to the flagstones, his head cracking against the floor.
The spectre advanced on Merlin. "It will give me great pleasure killing you."
"No, Father." Arthur stood next to the open grave, holding his torch and the bag of salt he had brought.
The spectre stopped its advance on his friend, lying dazed on the flagstones, and turned toward Arthur.
In that moment he saw the hollowness of all his father's pronouncements about the evil nature of magic and its threat to the peace and stability of the kingdom. It was suddenly clear without any tinge of doubt that Uther's reign of terror had not only failed to protect Camelot's people, it had put them in danger more than once. "You're wrong, about so much."
Uther's spectral figure glared at the young king. "I will not allow you to destroy all that I have built. Camelot must come before all else, even you!"
With tears in his eyes Arthur tossed the torch into the crypt where it lit the rotting clothing of the desiccated corpse. The spirit was arrested in mid-motion, halted in whatever vengeance it was about to enact. Arthur sprinkled salt into the flames and bent to collect the dry wood to feed the fire. Uther's spectre gave a scream of rage as it faded until there was no sound and no substance, only the smoke of the burning corpse.
"You've had your turn, Father, now it's mine," Arthur whispered.
Merlin blinked several times until the bright spots obscuring his vision receded, but the pounding ache in his head did not lessen. He was in his own room and he felt the firmness of his bed beneath him. It was night outside his bedroom window and a candle illuminated two blurry images standing next to his bed which slowly coalesced into a single recognizable figure. It was strange that Arthur was in his room.
"You took a hard knock to your head. Gwaine and Percival brought you home," Arthur said. "I knew I could trust them to keep quiet about the state of the crypt, although it will be noticed soon enough, but I thought it best no one else know about your involvement in this night's doings. As it is, the workmen who repair the tomb will spread wild tales about vandalism of the king's resting place and maybe about black magic and sorcery being involved."
"Oh." Merlin touched a hand to his aching head. "Good thinking." Recent memories flooded back. The last thing he remembered clearly was Uther's ghost about to kill him. That he was alive meant Arthur must have burned his father's body to destroy the malevolent spirit. "Did you …?"
"Yes."
Despite the calm reply, Merlin knew how horrible that must have been. "I'm sorry you had to do what you did."
"I had to protect my people."
He sounded sure of himself, a tinge of regret in his voice but no trace of doubt. Merlin tried to smile but winced at a stab of pain from his aching head.
"Gaius says you're confined to bed for the day."
Merlin summoned a disappointed look. "Does that mean I'll miss the tournament?"
"Try not to be too heartbroken. You've seen me win often enough, anyway." Arthur grinned when Merlin rolled his eyes. "You know you would never get a whole day off if you were still my servant."
"Arthur, I still am," Merlin said. "I told you I was proud to be your servant. Til the day I die."
Embarrassment coloured the king's face at the heartfelt declaration and he moved to the door.
"Arthur." Merlin struggled to find the words he wanted to say, knowing what it had cost the king to make such a decisive denunciation of his father's intolerance of magic. He had put aside any doubts raised by his own counsellors and the opposition of the other monarchs and Merlin wanted to express his appreciation for that, but his head hurt. Finally he decided Arthur would know what he meant anyway so he simply said, "Thank you."
His friend turned in the doorway. "I always looked up to my father, I admired and respected him more than anyone. But I have to accept that I can't please him, that I have to be true to myself. He was wrong," Arthur said. "The kingdom is not weaker because we have accepted magic, it's stronger. And I'll make certain the other rulers are also clear about Camelot's implacability on this issue – in time we will share true peace." King Arthur gave a confident smile on his way out which Merlin returned before his headache reasserted itself.
He must have slept then because when his eyes opened a square of morning light cut across the room from his window. Gwen knocked and peered around the partially open door. When she saw he was awake, she came in to sit in the chair beside his bed. Her arm was wound tightly with cloths and bound by a sling.
"Hi, Gwen. What are you doing up and about?"
She raised her eyebrows. "There is a tournament in my honour I must attend."
Merlin tried to shake his head but it hurt so he settled for rolling his eyes. "You had an excuse to avoid two whole days sitting in the baking heat, chewing dust, and failing to keep the dirt kicked up by the horses out of your eyes and nose and yet you're going?"
Gwen smiled. "I must be present to accept the knights' favours."
Which she would do with a grace those noblewomen could only envy. "Are you going to be all right stuck there for hours in the midst of those fine ladies?"
"I will," Gwen said. "I realized my mistake was trying to be like them. I never will be and I don't even want to be. I intend to earn their respect by being myself; if they don't respect that then their opinion is of no concern to me."
Merlin gave her a wide grin.
"But if I hear one more report of that Vivian being caught trying to sneak her pretty blonde head into Arthur's quarters on some flimsy excuse." Gwen's eyes narrowed dangerously but she did not complete the threat.
"For what it's worth," Merlin tried unsuccessfully to keep the grin from his face, "she wouldn't give him the time of day before Trickler put a spell on her. It was quite funny to see a woman so disinterested in him for a change."
Gwen did not look as amused as he had been.
He patted her hand reassuringly. "All the while I knew how he felt about you."
Mollified, Gwen examined him closely. Concern wrinkled her brow. "Are you going to be well enough to attend the wedding?"
"I wouldn't miss it," he said.
Merlin could not keep a foolish grin off his face at the recollection of Arthur and Gwen making an official and public declaration of their love. He paused in the corridor, lost in the memory of the afternoon's ceremony on his way to the feast which had begun in celebration of that event.
The formal spectacle in the great hall packed with richly dressed courtiers and visiting monarchs in their royal colours, baskets of flowers lining the carpeted aisle, red banners with gold dragons covering every bit of available space, had lacked the simple joy of broomstick rituals he had known in Ealdor, but the symbolic beauty of the handfasting rite had been deeply moving. Seeing Arthur and Gwen pledge their troth to each other, right hands joined, and hearing Gwen's sincere "with all my heart" had brought tears to his eyes. In that moment it had seemed as if everything in the world was exactly as it should be.
Merlin's happy memories were interrupted when Trickler stepped into his path.
"Hello." Merlin wondered what the other sorcerer wanted.
The man's habitual sneer did not give any hint of his purpose for apparently lying in wait to catch Merlin alone.
"I wanted to thank you," Trickler said with one of his fawning bows.
Surprised and puzzled, Merlin waited warily.
"Thank you for making this land safe for magic."
'"That was Arthur, not me."
"I hear things, I see things, and I know it was because of you." The cynical sneer widened. "I am not so foolish as to think opinions can be changed easily, but already things are different, a feeling of freedom which I am certain you understand."
"Yes," Merlin said
Trickler dropped his characteristic cynicism. "If there is any favour I can do for you, ask."
Merlin began to shake his head before an idea struck. "You can remove the love spell from Lady Vivian."
Trickler regarded the other man closely. Apparently he did not trust any request bereft of a clear motive for personal benefit. Finally he shrugged. "I will." Trickler gave another mock bow before leaving as stealthily as he had appeared.
The solemn pageantry of the wedding rite was offset by the unbridled gaiety of the feast, spurred on by an abundance of food weighing down the tables and brightly lit by the sparkle of gold thread and jewels on extravagant costumes. The smells of roasted meat and exotic herbs competed with the fragrance of the flowers decorating the tables. Wine flowed freely, and Gwaine bent over to whisper in a pretty red head's ear, looking pleased with himself at her giggle. Merlin slipped into the banquet hall and quietly took his place beside Gaius. The old man gave him an inquiring glance for his tardiness.
"Trickler wanted a word with me," Merlin said.
"I hope that doesn't mean King Alined is hatching any plots to disrupt the peace?" Gaius asked.
"Trickler wanted to thank me for making the kingdom safe for magic." Merlin threw a glance at his guardian. "Despite how everyone else feels."
"I suspect you have more allies than you know." The elderly physician regarded his ward. "King Gwyl will follow Camelot's lead in changing the laws of his kingdom and Ector is not the only one on Council who believes in the changes Arthur is making."
Merlin began to shake his head in denial, but the old man continued. "And you have the support of the knights."
"Not all of them," the sorcerer muttered.
"And of the King and Queen."
At his words a cold breeze made the candelabra above them flicker. Merlin looked up in alarm before he realized the door to the hall had opened and closed. He glanced sheepishly at his guardian who had noticed his start.
"Uther is dead and gone," Gaius said.
"Morgana is probably still out there," Merlin said defensively.
Gaius leaned closer to his ward. "I don't know what it says on your invitation but on mine it says 'celebration'."
Merlin's previous happiness bubbled up again. "You're right. And I'm happy, really I am."
"Have you seen Aithusa lately?"
A bright smile creased Merlin's face. "Yes, and he's already doubled in size. His wings are strong enough to fly here and back and he coughed up a flame the size of my finger."
"Balinor would be proud."
"I wish I had his guidance, Gaius. I don't know much about being a dragonlord."
The physician patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine."
They both turned to watch as Gwen accepted the formal congratulations of the other monarchs with complete self-assurance, displaying the same innate grace with which she received the heartfelt good wishes of those who knew her well. Although she would not have the title of Queen Guinevere until her coronation, there were already toasts and shouts of "Long live the Queen".
With a smile, Merlin let his doubts about the future slip away as he joined in the toasts.
When I originally posted this story I ended here, but then I drafted two more chapters to incorporate Excalibur and Morgana's fate. And in case I have not said it enough – I do appreciate every review, follow, and favourite. Thank you!