The Kinslayer

Arthur hated the man at first-sight – his speech was as oily as his brown mess of hair. Within minutes in the council chamber, his words were already sliding him into his goal, like the slithering liquid.

Call it a gut feeling – he was always right – or maybe it's just his hair.

'This place reeks of sorcery.' Aredian said.

Arthur's brow rose lazily, in contrast to his racing heart on his throat. Uther had no such subtlety – upon hearing the key words, he leaned forward on his throne, hand stroking his chin in captivation.

'How do you know?' Uther urged.

The witchfinder retrieved a small object from his robe. Balanced on his hand like a gem, was a pair of lens, with golden graving upon foggy glasses, otherwise plain.

'My lords, this lens were a family heirloom. It allows the wielder to see magic. I must urgently inform you that magic is everywhere in the castle, an hideous golden net on all of us. Something must be done immediately, or I fear for Camelot.'

Uther squared his jaw, furious at the scenario described – no wonder, for a kingdom so hateful of magic, they were ridiculously surrounded by it. Morgana for example, and the forger of his sword.

Arthur had some idea of the golden net around Camelot – it may have to do with a certain sword in his chamber.

A crow corked, Arthur felt a cold wave of dread up his spine – the sword …

'Aredian, find the sorcerer.'

Emrys was great with smoke.

Blowing smoke from two nostrils at the same time, and popping the cloud with his snout, that would be a smoke ring.

Shaking his head up and down, that would be a long and fat caterpillar.

Rolling his head in a circle, and that would be a coiled up snake, Ermys said. Arthur thought it looked more like dungs.

Arthur watched mesmerized as the last smoke ribbon drifted away.

'The last one!' Emrys exclaimed, ' And you have get closer!'

Arthur shuffled forward, pulling his bottom along the rocks.

When they were just inches away, Emrys snorted a cloud directly onto his face.

'Arthur, what did the witchfinder say?'

'Nonsense, in my opinion.'

'Last time I check, everyone is speaking nonsense in your opinion.'

'Not everyone –' Arthur tapped his spoon on the table, as if to shake off his nervousness – 'most of the time it's just you.'

'And the witchfinder.'

Arthur frowned, after moments of consideration he gave up. Something about placing Merlin and Aredian in the same category irked him.

The witchfinder wasted no more in executing his specialty. With his lens on his nose, he sniffed into every corner of the castle, Arthur trailed closely behind.

They stopped in his chamber.

Excalibur was in plain view on the table – he had forgotten to place it back under his bed.

But Aredian didn't even pat an eye at it. Arthur almost expected him to make a dramatic turn and tackle him to the floor.

Instead he dove straight into his wardrobe and frowned.

He flung out several of his undergarment of the floor, his nose uncomfortably close to the fabrics as he squinted in exertion– now it was Arthur's turn to frown.

Aredian missed.

Arthur expected the Aredian to admit his mistakes and leave for good, so when the witchfinder declared there was a sorcerer living in the castle, his opinion of him plummeted to a record-breaking low.

'I am sorry my king. The sorcerer or sorceress has caught wind of my arrival. He must have hid his presence – all sorcerers could hide the evilness within, to a varying extent depending on their power. My lens can now only identify the magical residue on the objects he casted on. '

Either you are extremely incompetent, or you are lying. Either way – leave! Arthur shooed in his mind.

Uther worked his jaws, like he was chewing a particularly tough streak, and Arthur felt his luck swallowed with it.

'Does Aredian say how he will find the sorcerer?'

According to the witchfinder, the omnipresent residue in the castle signified a habitual user, who would slip eventually. And when he did, his lens would be able to identify the golden eyes of the sorcerer within a day of using magic. Together with a pile of nonsense, Arthur made it short.

'He has a pair of magic-seeing lens, or so he says. And he said there was a high priest living the castle. Ridiculous! Next time there will be an giant octopus beneath us.' Arthur snorted and Merlin scoffed awkwardly with him. Unfortunately Uther wasn't sharing his sentiment – his father just wasn't as smart as him.

Satisfied that his servant had shared his sentiment – a beginning of wisdom – he continued, 'A high priest in the castle, and our castle hasn't toppled. The priest must be really incompetent.'

'Ha…Hmm, that's impossible…'

'Like I say. There is only one person so incompetent in the world and that is you.'

There was an awkward silence.

'Me?' Merlin ventured nervously. Arthur could technically hear the man swallow. That girl.

'Come on! You can't be. You can't do anything, let alone magic.'

His servant laughed weakly. Seriously Merlin really thought Arthur would suspect him? He had seriously overestimated himself.

'I am pretty sure the witchfinder is a hoax, he won't find anything.' And he had missed the magical sword right in front of him!

Everyone had been anxious about the witchfinder, but Merlin was exceedingly so. Then Arthur knew – he was really observant in that aspect.

'Don't worry. If Gaius has given up on magic, he won't be detected.'

'Thanks Arthur.'

So that was the witchfinder's plan.

Every occupant in the castle was to report to him every day, in groups of different time slots, with the exception of the king and the prince. For once Arthur didn't complain about the inequality – the episode with his undergarment still unnerved him.

Aredian reassured Uther, who he dabbed as the magic slayer – greatest warrior against sorcery –the savior of Albion –that the sorcerer would be found in no time.

Arthur thought sorely that if Morgana was still here, she would be exempted too – right under his nose.

As Arthur enjoyed his breakfast, determined to think Aredian just as some visiting nobles, the bell rang.

It had been a nausea these days. Every morning Merlin had to report the witchfinder, right in the middle of his breakfast, Arthur wasn't pleased. It wasn't like he couldn't eat himself –no, definitely not the case.

Bored with no one to shout or throw at, he decided to follow.

That was ridiculous.

Arthur watched as the servants stood like convicts, heads bowed and hands in the back in a line. Aredian strode in front, reading off a name list in his hand. Anger rose.

Who did the man think he was? Who had the authority to manipulate his people like this!

Arthur crossed his arm in disagreement. At the flank of the line, Merlin smiled at him.

'You are terrorizing my people. There is no sorcerer here.'

A gesture from the witchfinder and the servants scattered off like frightened birds; Merlin hesitated, but a nod from Arthur sent him away.

The chamber grew silent.

'The mist horse, the fire goblin, the screaming faces in the well. The witnesses all beg to differ, my lord.'

'They could be under the effect of brewage.' Tavern - the answer to everything.

'There is magic in the castle, I swear on my reputation.'

'I judge a man on his deeds, not his reputation.'

'Wise words, my lord.' Aredian bowed, eyes glinted dangerously behind the lens.

A few days crept by, nerve-wrecking and painfully slow for the castle of Camelot. Despite the lack of progress, Aredian didn't show any sign of leaving.

'The man uses torture,' Arthur squeezed his paper in a crumble, Merlin paled. His reputation was wide-spread, a savior hailed by kings and lords of his employment, a demon cursed by other occupants of the castle or city.

Aredian liked leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him, a wicked hobby, Arthur preferred bread clumps.

'From what I heard from the other kingdoms, he is unforgiving.' He closed his eyes. 'Merlin, he never missed.'

Gaius filled away his latest potion on the shelf, almost tripping as he stepped down from ladder.

He was worried.

He was a sorcerer, magic was something he channeled, not owned. The witchfinder had no impact on his life – he would not use magic, just as he hadn't in the past twenty years.

But his ward was a warlock. It would only be time until he broke, until the desire to use something that came naturally to him burned him from inside out. Merlin was resisting, but Gaius knew, from experience. He had seen warlocks and witches in the Purge crumbled one by one, in their filthy cells, the power within couldn't be contained and denied.

He had to do something. Aredian had laced his roots around Uther, he wouldn't go without a toll, for the sake of his reputation and the golds.

He was old. His life would be over shortly no matter what.

He hoped his position in the court would spare his life.

If not, he was old anyway.

When did Merlin start walking so fast?

Everything he suggested a hunt, his lazy servant would drag his feet along the floor, complaining and fussed all along, like a sorcerer dragged to the pyre.

Okay, that wasn't the best analogy at the moment, more like – a girl.

Arthur stopped abruptly, and blinked – he had lost sight of Merlin. Arthur's lips curled as he hastened his steps.

There, several corridors ahead of him, Merlin was waiting and rolling on the balls of his feet.

Arthur closed his arms, an apologetic grin, but the impatient rocking never ceased.

Heat rose in his chest. Before Arthur could open his mouth, he saw Merlin's smile fell like rocks off a cliff .

Turning, the golden edge of the witchfinder's glass pierced his eyes.

'Greeting, my lord. May I ask where are you going?'

'That, is none of your business.' The prince answered coldly. Aredian ignored it.

'To the armory, my prince? The training session ended, so a hunt it is then. But with my sincerest apologies, no one is allowed to leave the castle until the sorcerer is found.'

'I am the crown prince.'

'And I have the direct order from the king.'

Arthur skipped on the edge of the ledge, arms swinging and wriggling in an precarious attempt for balance while Emrys watched beside, alarmed and anxious.

'Come on, Emrys. Aren't you a dragon? Join me!'

'Come back Arthur it's dangerous!'

'You are a coward!' The prince laughed without heat, but Emrys retorted indignantly. 'No. I am no.' Arthur made a face, but he did leave the edge and started running around the ledge.

'You are scared. Baby-scared.' He giggled, suddenly rushing forward to trap Emrys in his cuddle. 'Baby Emrys.' He cooed, swinging his baby in his arms.

'What's wrong with you today?' Emrys wriggled off his embrace and trotted to a safe distance, watching wearily.

Nope! No. Nah. Just ate some candies. He panted slightly, he had run too fast, but he had so much energy in him! He rocked on his heels, standing still was impossible.

He thought, feeling way happier than usual.

Lots of them.

Another day struck in the castle – with its frightened inhabitants whispering to each other and casting suspicious glances to each other. It reminded Arthur of Uther's inquisition when he freed the dragon.

This had to stop.

Arthur leaned back on his chair and turned to the ceiling. He might have to talk to his father, about how ridiculous it was to have a sorcerer right here in the castle. But it wouldn't work – for the love Camelot, O wise king, my great father, you are a fool to believe in Aredian.

Yeah, it would end so well. He literally saw himself kicked out of the chamber and Aredian snickering.

It wasn't like he was a bad lobbist. Magic was a tricky subject with his father, it would require deliberation, patience and a subtle amount of flattery –

If only Merlin would stop making those noise!

'Stop pacing around!' Arthur snapped, 'You will walk holes on my floor.'

'Do you know what is underneath your floor?' Arthur was baffled by the question – he really had no idea.

'The kitchen! The kitchen Arthur and do you know what it means with a hole big enough you can directly access your food. 'Merlin said excitedly in one breathe.

Arthur stared, bu his servant hadn't quite finished.

'Then I don't have to get your breakfast everyday. With that time I can go digging holes in the forest.' He jumped and clasped his hand, jabbing a finger at him as he landed. 'But you will get fatter and fatter and one day you will get stuck in the hole. Then I will walk around your head to collapse more floorboard for you. Or run. Or jump, like a hopping frog. You won't be attacked by bandits or sorcerers because no one will recognise you. '

Arthur stared. His mind simply wouldn't comprehend the absurdity his ears were reporting to him.

This was out of their usual calibre. He wasn't even angry. He was – amused. And stunned.

'Arthur? Arthur? Answer me! Can you move? 'Arthur registered something swiftly wriggling across his face, then Merlin bounced back to the centre of the room, laughing.

Finally he choked out.

'Merlin. Are you drunk?'

He expected his servant to deny indignantly, but today something was very off with him.

'Ha. You haven't seen me drunk! I can blow out a torch with a hiccup! I can fell a tree with my sneeze!'

That was it. Merlin was in the tavern.

No one could leave the castle, let alone visited the tavern, but later Arthur forgave himself for that minor glitch in logic. And as he mused Merlin waltzed away.

Then suddenly he heard someone giggling. Dreading and praying, he turned.

'Arthur. Have you heard that? My breathing sound is so funny!'

After two days of nonsense, his servant finally stopped making jokes about brass.

Arthur should be relieved of the free of gibberish, but Merlin was uncharacteristically quiet today –the stark contrast worried him.

Arthur looked up his paperwork, there Merlin was folding his clothes, in silence. He half expected the man to crackle into laughter and sprouted some jokes about clothes.

Then he noticed the fine tremor in his hands, and he frowned at the spilled juice on his breakfast tray.

Was he sick? Gaius said stress could weaken the immune system. That witchfinder was a major headache for everyone.

'Merlin?' Arthur called, winced when Merlin immediately dropped the pile in shock. His tone softened. 'What's wrong with you? Are you sick?'

'No – Ar-arthur – I am fine.'

That was a blatant lie. His breath was ragged, and it worsened as Arthur approached, like he was straining against a wound. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them and pulled on a weak smile.

'Arthur? Are you worried about me?'

Reflexively, Arthur snorted. 'I don't want you to drop dead in my chamber. You are incompetent enough alive, dead is worse.'

'Ha –' This would usually be followed by a witty resort, but there was none. The laugh was too weak for Arthur's comfort.

'Look Merlin, after tidying up the clothes and my plates, I want you to have the rest of the day off.'

'Ar –'

'No arguing!'

'Don't close the door.' His ward pleaded, Gaius raised his brows in question.

'Sorry Gaius… I feel so trapped.' His ward had already coiled up into a ball on his bed.

They were running out of time.

He couldn't get out. He couldn't breathe. It was so dark. The air was so thick. The walls were closing in on him.

His fear spiked.

Emrys. He called with his mind. I am scared.

What's wrong Arthur! He imagined his dragon leaping off his perch and flying in restless circles.

I am trapped in a wardrobe. He whimpered, curling into his knees. Stupid wardrobe, stupid game with Morgana.

Emrys paused. What's a wardrobe? Despite the fear, Arthur rolled his eyes.

A place for storing clothes. Emrys.

Then there is no monster to get you! Don't worry. I have been trapped for years and I'm still fine.

These weren't the most reassuring words. But they chattered on. He ran his hand on the rough wood, not like smooth and warm hide of Emrys, but it calmed him a bit.

After an eternity, Bernard found him. He rushed forward to greet the light.

'Rise and shine –'

The morning call lacked its usual rigor, before Arthur could processed the problem, a clash made him leapt up in bed, reaching for a sword that wasn't there.

Beside the window, Merlin sprawled on the floor, shielding his face against the sunlight.

Arthur hastily unsheathed the sword that was never there and came to his side.

'Merlin! I told you not to come back until you recover!'

There was no response – just painfully ragged breathing. Merlin's eyes were gazed over and half fluttering closed over flushed cheeks, the healthy color unnerving against pallid skin. Still half naked, Arthur tried to pull his friend back on his feet.

Arthur grabbed the clothes around his arm – Merlin's head whipped up so fast it might break, and he growled.

Arthur froze.

Then Merlin shook his head and appeared horrified at what he had done.

'I am sorry…leave me…Arthur.'

He tried to flinch away from his touch, but Arthur was faster –

He almost withdrew his hand. Merlin's skin was hot, inhumanly hot. He felt he was touching his bath water.

'You are burning up!'

His friend muttered a weak response. Something like leave me alone – I am fine – But Arthur was having none of it.

He hefted him up –who knew his twig-like servant was that heavy? – Arthur clenched his teeth and his stubborn servant clutched onto the floor with his hands like talons.

Plastering against his own, Merlin's clothes felt all wet and hot. Arthur was mad, fuming, livid. When he recovered, that idiot was going to spend a week in the stock. No. An eternity.

For how long had he been hiding this? How he struggled into his chamber was beyond him.

Arthur cursed the witchfinder.

He kicked open Gaius' door.

The physician hurried to meet the pair.

'I told you not to go this morning.' The old man whispered harshly. Merlin grunted a burning breath on his shoulder.

A fallen object on the floor, Arthur stumbled slightly, and Merlin screamed.

His words, a hysteric anarchy of let me go, trapped, were lost on Arthur's ears as he struggled to subdue a tangle of flailing limbs.

'Merlin!'

A splash of cold water, the turmoil died down in a horrifying silence and stillness. Gaius set down the bowl with a cling, Arthur, waking from his stupor, carefully lowered his lethargic friend to the cot.

'What's wrong with him, Gaius?'

Gaius gave him a veiled look.

'Sick. And he was not having enough rest. Exhaustion led to delirium, and emotional stress exacerbated the situation.'

The bell rang. Like a death blow in a nightmare, Merlin shot to consciousness and bleached further if it was even possible.

'Gaius! I have to go…'

'You are not going anywhere!' Arthur immediately snapped, a firm grip on his shoulder so he couldn't hurt himself.

'That's useless. He will come. He knows.'

The physician didn't have to raise his voice to speak over his cryptic complaint.

'Listen Merlin. I am going to the hunter –' 'no Gaius!' –'Arthur, Come with me.'

'But we can't leave –'

'No. Merlin is better that way. He knows what he should do.' Arthur really doubted it – Merlin seldom knew he was doing – but there was authority in Gaius' voice and he obeyed.

Gaius ushered him out of the door. Arthur led the way, so he didn't notice the flash of gold on the physician's eyes as the door closed. There was no turning back now.

'My lord, nice timing indeed. Your servant is missing.' Aredian said, flapping the list on the parchment over in his hand.

'My servant is sick today.'

'What a pity.' Aredian's voice certainly sounded otherwise. A hungry look leaped onto his face, like a snake on a bird. He put on his glasses. 'Then I must visit him myself.'

'No, the patient is now at a very contagious stage.'

Turning towards the speaker, Aredian stared.

And stared.

His smile froze for a moment, before it was replaced a ferocious grin that showed all his teeth. Arthur couldn't understand –

'Guards seize him. He is the sorcerer. '

Arthur froze. Aredian was pointing at Gaius.

Arthur saw red, an unforgiving heat scorching in his chest.

His father hadn't battered an eye when Aredian accused Gaius.

'What do you have to say for youself?'

'That I have never betrayed Camelot, my lord.'

With that the long-serving physician was sent to the dungeon. It was Arthur's insistence that delayed the pyre, but it wouldn't be long if he didn't think of anything.

Shame.

Shame. And Anger. That was all he felt. He sensed the magic Gaius used, and mere thought of it sent a wave of his own brimming out, whiplashing the cave in a shower of rocks.

The witchfinder had caught Gaius. Or else he would have come for him, for his absence, and for the reports of the suspicious servants he met on the hallways.

If Aredian dared to lay a finger –

His magic rose with the anger, and a particularly large boulder detached from ceiling. His wings rose to shield him against the shattering debris.

It was out of control. He couldn't shift back. As if his magic loathed being trapped in a lesser vessel.

This body was stronger, healed faster and held more magic. But he had to shift back if he were to save Gaius. He didn't have a plan, aside from banging into the council chamber…

The exit was a few wing-beats above him, next to the foot holes Gaius had dug, which years ago brought his destiny and best friends to him. But he couldn't get through the corridor in this form.

He felt so powerless…The man who taught him his first words. The man who told him who he was. The man who showed him loved when he was imprisoned. The second-father in his life ...now dying for him as he squatted like an imbecile in the cave.

Ironically, the bind that had bound him was the thing he needed now.

The idiot was gone.

Arthur couldn't believe his eyes when he stared at the empty physician chamber, now resembling a village raved by bandits.

Where was the idiot going at this state!

He searched through the castle with Guinevere. Halfway through the training field, he had an idea.

Arthur went down to the dungeon. What he saw almost sent him charging to the cell and hitting the witchfinder.

Almost.

Guinevere tucked at his sleeve. Reluctant, he nodded. It wouldn't do any good now, his recklessness.

Instead they went to Aredian's room. He would find evidence proving him wrong.

If the witchfinder was telling the truth…Arthur had no idea, but he wouldn't let Gaius die.

The room was locked. But there was no trouble for the prince to acquire a set of key to his castle.

He found Aredian's prized glasses in a small chest underneath his bed – a too popular hiding spot.

He put it on. And blinked.

The room was still the same.

He went to everywhere in the castle, to the physician chamber which Aredian claimed was infested with sorcery.

There was no sign of gold nor magic.

'My lord, I have found the evidence. This is from the traitor's chamber.' Aredian banished magically bracelet in front of his triumphant grin.

'Aredian, I have a discovery of my own.' Beside the throne, Arthur hid a smile at Uther's cold tone.

The witchfinder paled a bit, but managed to keep the smile on his face. 'What's it my lord?'

Uther didn't say anything. He threw the glasses to his feet.

'I have put on the glasses.'

'How...how did you find it ...'

All color drained from the snake's face. Arthur smiled.

Gaius took a sip of potion.

He would like some poultice to his lashes at the back, but his ward wasn't available at the moment. He wasn't the most suitable either. One touch and the bruise on his arm was gone, vanished. It would be very suspicious if his injuries healed within a night. He had warned Merlin, not to tried anything until his magic recovered, but he was having none of it.

A bursting jar turned his head to the backroom. Merlin had been holing up there all night, trying to regain control over his tumult magic.

There was a loud bang from the trunk, followed by an unrestrained sting of curse. The locked door did nothing to seal up the magic, weak as he was, Gaius could sense it like a tidal wave.

Gaius signed.

He knew Aredian when he didn't go by that name. Before the Great Purge, his family were close with the druids. The artifect passing the line for generations was used to identify children with magic, who were then sent to the druids to control their gift. Then the nightmare came and different sorcerers met their various fate.

For Gaius, he surrendered to Uther.

For Aredian, he became a witchhunter.

He was ashamed of his deed in the Purge. He was too a kinslayer, if not as blood-stained as Aredian. He watched and swallowed his scream when the pyres burned.

One was of his greatest regret and shame was he couldn't save Balinor.

A candle lit up.

He would call in sick for Merlin again tomorrow. Arthur wasn't convinced when Merlin shouted from his room he had gone to the town for a healer – Gaius certainly understood why. But he could also see the concern on the prince's face, the way he leaned forward slightly, trying to see behind the locked door.

And it brought a smile to his bruised face.

The alarm bell rang at night. For the hundredth time in the month, someone escaped.

Aredian.

Gaius examined the guards and declared they were asleep, in a spell.

In a fleeting flash of his over-active imagination, Arthur wondered if Aredian was telling the truth all along, that the glasses only worked for a sorcerer.

He pondered on its implications.

It didn't change anything.

Arthur stretched and headed back to sleep.

'Rise and shine!'

Arthur grunted to the disgustingly annoying voice and woke. To a rather interesting sight.

A parchment was floating mid-air.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes – oh – it was still there – parchment, in the air.

Then Merlin snatched the paper from its limbo and brandished vigorously at the ceiling.

'Merlin! What. Are. You. Doing!'

'A huge spider Arthur! Its silk sticks to your speech for the royal tiles guild!'

Merlin's serious expression hardly made the words more convincing for Arthur.

'Why would a spider stick on my paper?'

'Who knows? I am not a spider.' Merlin turned from the ceiling with – definitely mocked –annoyance.

Rolling over, Arthur decided to go back to his dream again. He didn't need to see that cheeky smile.

AN: Now Arthur was officially willing to cover for Gaius the sorcerer. And thick enough to stop a bomb.

Aredian is a total rewrite, because I have written half of the chapter before I realised I have remembered the wrong character. And the sword is magical only when Arthur touches it.

The rewrite wasn't water-tight – why the hell Aredian left the lens in his chamber, and Arthur...I have no idea, that was the intelligence of Camelot for you.

Thanks for anyone who read/follow/review! Please keep that coming!