Title: Rarely Pure, Never Simple
Author: Arisprite
Summary: The moment of truth takes Merlin by surprise, but can he gather the courage to say it?
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, BBC and Shine do, nor do I own much of the dialogue in this story. Lines will not be marked, but if your recognize anything, it comes from season 1, episode 10, The Moment of Truth.
A/N: I'll be updating much more often now that I'm at school again, and I have my own computer. Thanks for being patient!
"Truth is rarely pure, and never simple." Mark Twain
A moment after Will spoke his words, leaving the rest of the town staring after him in shock, Merlin saw Arthur jerk his head down, focusing his eyes on the ground, and not looking up even when Merlin tried to get his attention.
Will had said those harsh things in order to hurt Arthur, hurt him as much as his father's death had hurt Will. And it had worked. Arthur was hurt, Merlin could see it. See it in the slightly hunched shoulders, and the downcast eyes.
Merlin looked at the retreated back of his childhood friend, and felt only anger, and betrayal. With another look at Arthur, hoping to meet his eyes-no such luck- Merlin tore after Will, his teeth gritted.
He entered Will's house, to see Will almost frantically stuffing items into a pack. He was leaving.
Merlin opened his mouth, not sure what would come out, but not particularly caring-but Will cut him off.
"Don't bother Merlin, I'm not interested." Will said, glancing up once, but continuing with his packing.
"You should be." Merlin shot back. "Because tomorrow Kanen attacks, and whether you like it or not, we'll have to fight."
"Not if I'm not here." Merlin took a breath, trying to tamp down on his anger.
"Well, that's up to you, but the rest of us are staying." Merlin watched his friend for a moment, watching him prepare to run, and he felt a sudden longing to have Will fighting by his side, drowning out his previous anger. Didn't Will see how it could be? They'd take back their village, and Kanen and his men would never come back. They could protect their friends and family, just the two of them, like they'd pretended as children, playing with stick-swords.
"Join us Will!" Merlin stepped forwards, unable to stay still, wanting to make Will see. He leaned on the table, peering earnestly into Will's face, but he avoided his gaze. Some of the anger came back.
"This isn't about Arthur, this is about your friends. Are you really going to abandon them?" Are you really going to abandon me?"
"What, like you did?" And for a moment, Merlin was sure that Will had read his thoughts. Will had finally met his gaze, and his eyes were challenging.
"I'm here now." Merlin defended.
"Yeah." Will almost choked out, turning away back to his bed, grabbing something else. "Yeah, you are, and you could end this. If you used your magic, then no one else would have to die."
Will had turned back by now, glaring with burning eyes. Merlin met his gaze, but the strong denial he'd meant to say only came out a broken whisper.
"You know I can't."
"Can't or won't?" Will came up in his face now, staring at him, waiting for an answer. But Merlin couldn't say the truth, and Will wouldn't hear it even if he could. He stayed silent.
"I'm not the one abandoning these people, Merlin. You are."
Will walked away, and Merlin blinked a few times, trying to understand that it really had been Will saying those things. He wanted to run out now, and protest that they weren't true! That he'd never abandoned anyone, and that it wasn't his fault he couldn't use his magic tomorrow.
But were they true? Was it beyond his control whether or not to use his power? After all, it all came down to a choice, and he chose to lie to Arthur every day. Every damn day, and what did he have to show for it? Why did he even try?
Merlin stood from his place against the table, and made his way out into the village. There wasn't much activity going on, and there were people gathered at Matthew's family home. Merlin felt a new pang of sadness, for Matthew had always been kind to him, with enough years between them that he was too old to be part of the rough older boy's crowd, and too young to have been a stiff old man as they were growing up.
He glanced around for Arthur, as saw him sitting beside his mother's home, sharpening his sword. He felt a momentary flash of guilt, since that was technically his duty, and he hadn't done it once since they'd come out here. Not that Arthur had told him to either.
Merlin could tell that Arthur was still troubled by Will's harsh words; his movements were unfocused, and Merlin felt afraid for a moment that he'd slice his finger on the blade. He really should save his brooding for staring out windows or into the fire-much safer.
He took a seat next to the prince, and clasped his hands, not sure if he should speak or wait for Arthur. Merlin wanted to explain, to defend his friend, even as he still fought anger for what he'd said, and what he was planning on doing. Will did have reasons that Arthur didn't know, and Merlin felt it fair that Arthur be told them.
And since Arthur wasn't going to speak, he started, while Arthur continued sharpening.
"William's father was killed fighting for King Cenred." Merlin shrugged. "That's why he doesn't trust anyone of nobility."
Arthur stopped, looking at the sword. "Do you think the villagers believed him?"
"No," Merlin shook his head, a slight smile coming to his face as he remembered their childhoods and all the rubbish they'd got up to. "He's always been a trouble maker. They're used to ignoring him."
"And if he's right?" Arthur still hadn't looked at him, and his face was hard, but Merlin could see the insecurity, so foreign on the prince's pale face. Merlin shook his head firmly.
"He isn't." Not about that. His tone, however, seemed to cause the opposite affect than he'd been intending. Arthur's stern face broke, and he glanced around almost desperately.
"I'm treating these men like soldiers, and they're not." He waved his arm, swallowing. "You've seen them fight. They haven't got a clue!" Arthur leaned forwards, elbows on knees. "You need to tell them all to leave the village before Kanen returns." Merlin was chilled to realize that Arthur was handing the command of his village over to him. He was bowing out, giving up.
Merlin glanced over at the village, and the few men that milled about. It was strange to see it so quiet; since Arthur had come, the place was a whirlwind of activity, preparations going on nonstop. Arthur had brought life, and determination to his home village, and Merlin was saddened to see that same spark of life seemingly gone from Arthur's own face. He bit the inside of his lip, worry pulling down his brow.
Arthur needed to know that they could win, and Merlin was realizing that it all came down to a choice. His choice. Will was right. His friends were people he should be able to trust. If he could trust Arthur with his life, as he'd said he did, then he should trust him with his magic.
People were dying, two had already, and Merlin would not let it be increased. His secret wasn't worth the lives of his friends and family. It never should have been like that in the first place. With Merlin's magic on their side, the raiders would be easy.
"No, we're going to stay. We're going to fight. And we're going to win." Merlin's voice was determined, but Arthur shook his head, giving him his you're-an-idiot look, but tinged with real defeat.
"Merlin, it can't be done. The odds are too great!"
"It can!" Merlin met his eyes, willing him to not give up hope. "We're going to make Kanen rue the day he ever came to this village."
Arthur turned his head, raising a hand to rub at his eyes, but Merlin kept talking, hoping something would get through.
"All you have to do is get the men ready for battle. The rest, will take care of itself." Merlin spoke with absolutely surety, for he would not allow them to fail, no matter who saw. The surety came through in his voice, and it caused Arthur to meet his eyes again, this time in disbelief.
"How?" He said, annoyance now tingeing his voice, but it was better than hopelessness.
"You've just got to believe in them." Merlin said, firmly. "Cause if you don't, they'll sense it. And the battle will be lost before it's even begun."
Arthur met his eyes for a long moment, and then turned away, looking forward at the village square, but his gaze was contemplative instead of despairing, and Merlin believed he'd gotten through to him. He recognized the princes mood now, and knew he'd want some time to think. Merlin stood and took his leave. The better to let Arthur mull over what he'd said.
Hunith watched her son leave Arthur sitting outside her home. The opening through which she'd accidentally eavesdropped was big enough to see the top of the two boy's heads as they'd sat talking in seeming privacy. She felt bad about invading that, but she'd been unable to move as Merlin's words filtered in her mind, and his meaning became clear.
Merlin was planning on using his magic.
Her heart was in her throat as she listened to Merlin's assured words, comforting Arthur and promising they would not fail. It was almost said out loud that Merlin would make sure of it, by any means necessary. She realized that it no longer mattered to Merlin if his secret was kept safe, not if it meant sacrificing the village.
Hunith put a hand to her heart as the full extent of her son's courage and strength became clear to her. He was willing to sacrifice himself to save lives. Her hero. Tears threatened.
Because sometimes heroes didn't come back.
Morgana sidled up to Gwen while the villagers bore Matthew's body to his home, whispering in her ear.
"The women should fight. Now more than ever."
Gwen nodded. "Yes. They have a right to fight for their homes, Arthur should see that."
Morgana shared a look with her, and then they looked to the village. People were milling around, aimlessly. Those who were close to Matthew, the village leader, gathered at his home, but the rest acted as if they didn't know what to do.
Gwen realized that Arthur had been leading them, inspiring them since they got here. But since that boy's words to the prince, he'd been nowhere to be found. Gwen worried her lip, knowing that there were things to do today, and not enough time to do it. She hoped that Arthur would turn up, for the people needed him.
She shook herself, and turned her thoughts back to the problem at hand. The women of the village needed to band together and stand up, or Arthur would surely send them away with the children.
"We need to talk to them, all of them. Find out how many would be willing to stand up with us, how many want to fight." Morgana agreed, and they spread out to gather them. The men may stand around waiting for the prince, but they surely wouldn't.
Will didn't know why he hung around town after he'd finished packing. He'd told Merlin that he was going to leave, and he was. But he still found himself leaving his bag, and wandering around the village, lost in his thoughts.
Anger still coursed through him, especially as he thought of their village leader. Matthew was about fifteen years older than him, and Merlin, and as such, had always fondly treated the two of them as annoying younger brothers. He remembered going fishing with him, or gathering berries in the fall. He frowned as his eyes prickled. Crying was no use.
Will scowled, and wished that things could go back to the way it was before the prince and his company had gotten here, before the raiders had come, before Merlin had left. Things were so much simpler, then. Will could have lived like that forever, and he didn't understand how someone would ever want to go off and leave.
But Merlin had.
Things had changed when his father died, and Will had been so angry when Merlin refused to use his magic for him. Hunith had sent him away then. But even before that, Merlin had been unhappy.
Will saw nothing strange about his best friend having magic, and he took advantage of it as another tool in his arsenal in mischief and trouble-making, (Old Man Simmons never quite forgave Merlin). Merlin simply delighted in another person sharing his secret, and did whatever Will wanted him to do, often things his mother would have disapproved of, but that was neither here nor there to the young men. Life was carefree, for the most part.
But there had been times that Merlin grew frustrated. One time in particular stood out.
Will entered Merlin's house, striding in as he always did. Merlin was sat beside the fire, and unusually he held nothing in his hands, but was simply staring. It was a chilly day in mid-fall, so Will just assumed he was getting warm, and thought nothing else of it. He sat next to his friend on the bench, nudging him to get his attention.
"Hey," Will said. "Don't think so hard, your face will stick like that."
Merlin glanced over. "Hi Will."
His voice was low, morose sounding, and Will felt a flicker of concern. What was wrong with his normally overly cheery friend?
"Let's go do something." He said, in an effort to distract Merlin out of whatever mood he was in. "There's a new crop of apples in, they looked tasty..." He trailed off with a grin, but Merlin shook his head.
"No thanks."
"Come on, it'll be easy. We'll just..." Will wiggled his fingers, in a approximation of the way Merlin moved his hand when he did magic. He expected Merlin to smile, agree, and they'd be off, like they always were. However, Merlin frowned, scowled down into the flames.
"I don't want to." His voice was almost a snap, and Will leaned back, startled.
"Why not-"
"Because I hate it!" Merlin jumped up, pacing around the fire, and Will sat frozen to the seat, staring at his friend. "I hate having magic. I hate lying to people, and then you...we go and do things, getting into trouble, and getting away with it. All because I have this thing, this power, that lets me do things that no one else can do. And all I do with it is tricks and playing around."
Merlin waved his arms about until his rant died down, and then he stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground.
"Do you understand? I want to be normal. But I'm not. And if there isn't a purpose, a reason, then what is it even for? What's the point?"
Will didn't know what to say, and he sat there awkwardly for a moment, watching Merlin simmer. He hadn't met his eyes, but Will could see a shimmer there from more than just the firelight.
"I don't know what to say, Merlin." Will murmured. He wasn't good at this sort of thing.
"No." Merlin said, quietly. "You don't know what it's like. No one does."
He turned and strode out of the house, leaving Will sitting beside the fire, confused and upset.
The next time he'd seen Merlin, later that evening, he seemed to be back to his normal self. He didn't mention his outburst, and Will didn't ask, but he didn't forget either. Merlin's words kept him from arguing harder for Merlin to stay when that time came. He didn't understand. But he didn't fight Merlin's choice.
Thinking about it, it was like Merlin didn't fit here. He was too big, too important somehow (though he'd never tell Merlin that) and Ealdor wasn't able to hold all of him. Even since he came back, there were shades of that feeling. The wide world was for Merlin, and only a small bit of him could stay here in the small village.
Will kicked at a fence post as he went by, hands deep in his pockets. He wasn't looking where he was walking, but he simply let his feet carry him where they led. It wasn't surprising that they led him to Merlin's old home; he'd practically lived there for years, before Merlin went away. Hunith had been a sort of mother to him, one he'd never had, and he felt bad for letting his anger change that lately.
Sighing, he stepped closer to the house, peeking inside the open windows to see it any of Merlin's friends from Camelot were inside. He didn't particularly want to meet them up close, especially not after those words (true ones!) he'd said, shouted at the prince.
The only one inside was Hunith, sitting on the bench. He turned to go, but then her eye caught his movement, and she met his gaze.
He ducked his head, and almost moved on, but something stopped him. So, swallowing, he stepped up the path that led to the door, wondering what he was doing.
Will entered slowly, taking in Hunith pensive look, and the emptiness of the home. It was almost as if Merlin had never come back.
"Hello Will," Hunith murmured, not lifting her gaze. Will, now berating himself for even entering, muttered a hello back, and found himself glancing about the room for something to say. He noticed that on second glance, he could see the signs of the visitors: rolled up bedclothes, and more bowls waiting to be washed than normal for the solitary Hunith.
Will scratched the back on his neck, wondering what to say, why he'd even come, when Hunith turned to him.
"He missed you, you know."
Will started. "What?"
"Merlin. He missed you." Hunith was calm, but there were undercurrents in her tone that Will did not understand. That seemed to happen often of late. But, Will couldn't help but doubt her words.
"Please," He scoffed. "He's got his new city friends now. He doesn't need me."
"You're right. Merlin does have new friends, one's who would do anything for him." Will felt the truth of her words pierce him to the core, a certain thickness choking his throat for a moment. He nodded, agreeing with her. She continued, gazing at him with a piercing look. "But Merlin doesn't abandon people, Will." She said softly. "No matter how much it may feel so. He's far too loyal. You know he would drop everything in a heartbeat for anyone he considered to be worth his love."
Will shifted against the wall, fidgeting as a twisty feeling squirmed in his gut. He remembered his argument with Merlin an hour ago. He'd accused Merlin of abandoning his village, his family and friends. He knew now that Merlin would never do that. He'd known before.
Shaking his head, emotions not allowing him to speak, he gave Hunith a shaky nod, and fled, going out to the woods.