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
The word spread that Prince Arthur wished to speak to all of the people of the village, some last words before tomorrow morning, and the raiders arrived. This fact had been present in the minds of all throughout the day, and as such it was a sombre group that gathered in a circle around a crackling fire pit in the centre of the old barn.
Merlin ushered people in, and at the last, took a seat in the front, near the fire, and directly in front of where Arthur distractedly stood, leaning on his sword. Merlin recognized Arthur's face, he was gathering his thoughts, and would not speak until he was ready.
He paced for a few minutes in silence, and Merlin felt the crowd around him shifting, curious and some impatient, all waiting to see what this prince from another kingdom would say to them on this eve of battle.
Arthur paused in his steps then, and his voice was solemn when he spoke.
"Thank you all for coming." He looked around briefly, meeting many people's eyes. Then he looked back to middle ground, and continued.
"Tomorrow morning, the women and children should gather what belongings they can carry, and go to the woods."
There was a sudden uneasiness behind him, and Merlin turned in his seat to see Gwen of all people stepping forwards, a determined look on her face.
"We're not going anywhere." She said, her jaw set. Arthur turned, less surprise on his face than Merlin would have thought. Instead he looked resigned, but firm, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword.
"I know you want to help," He said, reassuring and calm. "But women can't stay here. It's too dangerous." Gwen, however, would not be dissuaded.
"The women have as much right to fight for their lives as the men do."
"None of you know how to fight." Arthur was trying to appeal to their reason, though his statement was not technically true. Morgana knew how to fight, better than Merlin did definitely, and the other women of the village were more than adept at swinging a broomstick, as Merlin's backside could attest to. He'd gotten more than one swat as a child, running around with Will.
Gwen had an argument for that, and Merlin turned his mind back to the present to watch what unfolded.
"The more of us there are, the better chance we stand."
The women behind Gwen shifted, stepping forwards as one, in a solid line. Their commitment showed on their faces, and not one backed down from Arthur's gaze.
The prince looked at the determined women. Morgana and Gwen, fighting for their friend, Luned and Brigid, both widows from this whole debacle, Merlin's mother, with a grim frown on her face, and the many other women his own age or older. They were ready to fight for their home.
Arthur met Merlin's eyes, and he could read the question in the blue gaze, asking his approval, permission for his friends and family to be put in danger such as this. But the women were ready, and did not need his permission. Who was he to deny such bravery? Merlin jerked his head down, hardly even a nod, but it was enough for Arthur.
He nodded, and spoke to the women.
"This is your home. If you want to fight to defend it, that's your choice." Arthur looked up at Gwen and the other women standing beside her. "I'd be honoured to stand alongside you."
Gwen, as the spokesperson of the group, gave Arthur a grateful, respectful nod.
Arthur stepped forwards then, speaking now to the whole of the gathering.
"Kanen attacks tomorrow. Kanen's brutal, he fights only to kill. Which is why," Arthur paused, looking at the men and women he'd gathered and led these past two days. "He will never defeat us. Look around, in this circle, we're all equals. You're not fighting because someone's ordering you to, you're fighting for so much more than that. You fight for your homes. You fight for your families. You fight for your friends." Arthur met Merlin's gaze for the for the barest flash. "You fight for the right to grow crops in peace. And if you fall, you fall fighting for the noblest of causes; fighting for your very right to survive. And when you're old and gray, you'll look back on this day, and you'll know, you earned the right to live every day in between. So you fight, for your family. For your friends. For Ealdor!"
Merlin, listening to Arthur's words, watching him rouse his village, inspiring them to action, then seemed to see another sight, superimposed over the one in front of him. In reality, Arthur circled the fire grate, shouting out the name of his village, his sword pointed to the sky. In Merlin's eyes, the circular area became a great hall. In the centre, a round table, filled with knights bearing the crest of Camelot. Arthur stood at one of the spaces, a ornate but modest crown upon his brow. He saw himself then, wearing robes of blue, standing at Arthur's right hand. Arthur's words came back to him, "In this circle, we are equals."
Tears filled Merlin's eyes, and he blinked them back, in the process, blinking away the vision which had filled his senses. Only being hidden in the crowd had prevented notice from coming to him as he reeled from the effects of the scene. This was the future that Merlin worked for, that he would give anything to achieve.
Merlin beamed then, and he stood with the rest, shouting out cheers for his village, but more for his prince, his future king.
"For Ealdor! For Ealdor!"
Will left the main hall, the cheers of his fellow villagers still ringing in his ears. The prince had spoken to them, and despite himself, Will had listened, and had felt a frisson of understanding, of willingness to follow, which helped him realize why Merlin was so devoted to the nobleman. Arthur had this charisma, this aura about him, that inspired. Will walked away, wishing he could feel angry. But he really wasn't. Arthur was a noble. He'd come rushing in, telling them to fight, thinking he was going to save them. He was Merlin's new best friend, even though Merlin still hadn't told him about his magic, Will knew that he would. After all, Will himself had found out by accident, and only a few years ago. And Arthur was the son of a king who hated magic. Merlin probably had no choice, no matter how good of friends they became.
Will winced as he recalled the words he'd spoken, almost all the words he'd spoken to his supposed best friend since Merlin had arrive. He'd mocked him, ridiculed him, and accused him of cowardice. He had been worse than those bullies that had used to pick on the boys as children. If anyone was abandoning, betraying their friends, it was him. Running away, for what? Anger? Pride?
Will groaned, and entered his home, eyeing the packed bags on the bed. He needed to think.
Hunith left the gathering soon after the prince finished his speech, knowing that the high of excitement that the young people were enjoying after Arthur' speech would need time to wind down, or they'd never sleep. She, however, found herself longing for quiet. Her home was chilled, since Merlin and Arthur had been hard at work for most of the day, preparing traps and outlining plans with the men of the village. Hunith had been with Brigid, Matthew's young wife, helping as best as she could, while pushing down her own feelings of sadness. Matthew had been a good friend, and she couldn't process that she'd never see him again.
Hunith shivered, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, and stoking a fire in the circle of stones. She tried to put Matthew's sacrifice out of her head, and in turn began to think about her son's words to the prince earlier that morning, the ones that she'd not meant to overhear, but ever since had not been able to stop replaying.
"All you need to do is get the men ready for battle. The rest, will take care of itself."
Hunith felt more chilled at the memory, even as the fire warmed the room. She leaned forwards, her elbows on her knees, staring into the fire. Merlin was going to reveal himself, she knew it. His words had held too much significance, too much confidence to be just general advice. He would sacrifice himself for them, to protect them. Because that's who he is.
The boy himself chose that moment to walk through the door, giving her a quick smile in greeting, shrugging off his coat and tossing it in the corner, just like he'd always done. The image was so normal, that for a moment Hunith imagined that he'd never left, and that he was still here at home. She had to blink back a sudden rush of tears.
She sat upright, laying a hand on the bench beside her.
"Come here," Hunith said softly, and Merlin stepped over without question, peering at her a little curiously. She gazed at her son for a moment, noticing how much older, wiser he looked, after only a few months. She raised a hand, stroking his defined cheekbones, no longer hidden under a layer of baby flesh. Her little boy was growing up into a man; he was nearly there already.
"I do love you, my boy." Hunith whispered. He was confused, she could see, and he shook his head a little.
"What's wrong?"
Merlin's voice was so unassuming, so kind, Hunith felt her throat close, and she looked down to her lap, trying to regain control.
"I should never have gone to Camelot." She thought of the life he'd had, and how, with what he was planning to do, everything would change. She kept her eyes down, not wanting him to see the tears of guilt building "I've ruined everything for you."
"You haven't, why would you say that?" Merlin protested quickly, now looking at her with full concern. Hunith looked up, and met his eyes solemnly.
"I know what you're planning to do."
Merlin looked shocked for a tiny moment, and then blew out a breath and looked away. A small part of her heart crashed to the floor, and she realized that she'd been hoping he'd deny it, that she'd been mistaken. But not now.
He worked his mouth for a moment, finding the words to say what she feared. Then he tilted his head, not making eye contact, but allowing her the view of his face.
"If it comes to a choice between savings people's lives," His blue eyes met her, glittering in the firelight. "Or revealing who I really am..." Merlin smiled a small smile, and shrugged, as if there was nothing wrong in the world. "There is no choice."
Panic clutched her breast, and she leaned forwards, alarm and fear lowering her voice to the barest whisper.
"You can't let Arthur know about your gift!" For here and now, Arthur was the embodiment of everything that had threatened her son since the day he was born. Arthur was the one whose father would kill Merlin as soon as look at him, if he ever knew the truth. Hunith liked Arthur, she thought he was a good person who would make a good king someday. But she could not trust him with her son.
"Why not?" Merlin protested, and Hunith realized that Merlin had already made his choice. He was trusting Arthur. The thought filled her with fear. Merlin kept her gaze. "Maybe, it's meant to be this way."
He seemed to read her thoughts, and Merlin turned away to gaze into the fire again. "And if he doesn't accept me for who I really am, then..." He seemed to have to search for words. "He's not the friend I hoped he was."
Hunith wanted to either reassure Merlin, or forbid him from telling anyone ever, and she stared at him for a space of a breath. Then said friend walked through the door, and the moment was lost, as Merlin glanced up at the prince, his eyes now shadowed with his secrets.
"Hey," Merlin greeted, standing. "Good speech."
Arthur snorted, tugging off his own jacket. Merlin went to help, almost unconsciously.
"Thanks, Merlin." He nodded in greeting to her, as she watched with a smile on her face now. She was good at hiding secrets too. "Hunith."
"It was a good speech, Arthur." Hunith said, taking a stick from the fire to light the lamp with. "The people will follow you tomorrow." Arthur held her gaze, and gave her another, more serious nod.
"Thank you."
The two moved further off, towards the end of the room they'd slept in last night, preparing to sleep. Hunith watched as Merlin easily took Arthur's mind off the coming morning by teasing and Arthur responded with jabs that rolled off his tongue like breathing. A few minutes later, and Arthur's shoulders were no longer tense with stress, and Merlin was genuinely smiling as well.
Hunith's face creased into a sad smile. Tomorrow, everything would change. She wasn't sure if Merlin realized that, not fully. This easy camaraderie may well be a thing of the past. She, for one, would be sad to see it go.