Author's Note: As I've said in the note before, you will have no idea how much trouble and heartbreak this chapter has given me. I've lost all the work I've done on it twice now. Hopefully, this version comes out all right. I make no guarantee on how quickly I will update but I can say that I do plan to update and that hopefully, if all things go according to plan, this series will be done by the end of the year, including the behind the scenes and sides stories that are planned with it's conclusion.
Now, without further ado, you're update. You've waited long enough.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
A man with a faded crimson cloak slunk into the kitchens. A few of the kitchen maids gave him a raised eyebrow but when he immediately made a beeline for the guards, they paid him no more mind. With a shrug of the shoulder, he was written off. No doubt another traveler hoping to try his luck and meet a prince, so he'd have a story to tell when he got back home. They'd seen it often enough. He'd try to bride the guards, they'd take him off and after giving him a tour of the outside of the castle grounds, they'd shoo him on his way with only half of the coins returned to him. Sure enough, he was led away by the guards after a shared look and a few whispered words between them. Nothing out of the ordinary; the kitchen staff carried on, not realizing they'd just been in the presence of foreign royalty.
Arthur waited until they were out of the sight of prying eyes and servants, in a private room, to remove his hood. He'd convinced the guards to hear out his plea in private, telling them he had urgent news that regarded relations between their kingdom and another, news their crown prince would need to be made aware of immediately. He was immediately recognized as the King of Camelot, something he'd been worried about but one guard had seen him before and the other had heard tell of the stories about him; he was exactly like his description. The guards gave him stiff bows and told him to wait in the room. With a curt nod, the type that comes naturally to royals from years of practice and pompous arrogance bred into the blood, he acquiesced to their request. As soon as the guards left, he pulled his cloak over his head again. He didn't want to be discovered by chance by some servant. He wasn't supposed to be in Mercia in the first place; besides, he didn't want Merlin knowing he was here. Merlin was never to know he'd been here; at least, that was the plan. He tried to remember how he'd gotten here, to calm himself by focusing on the plan. Ingeniously, it had been Gwen who'd come up with it.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
"He saved me, Gwen." Arthur told her. "He saved us all. If he hadn't lured that sorcerer away, we would have surely died. My only comfort at the time was knowing you were safe, far away with my cousin. I couldn't have bared it if you were caught up in that madness as well. But you were safe, and Merlin…"
"Merlin played the hero we always knew him to be," his beautiful wife and queen finished for him. He loved her all the more for her understanding.
He nodded and continued on. "After the battle, it took me a while to remember him, I'm ashamed to admit. I have no excuse except I was tired, I hadn't slept in days, and the exhaustion of battle drove all else from my mind. The first thing I did when I remembered him, though, was search ardently for him. I had to find him. I had to see Merlin again, touch him. I'm not sure if you'll understand Gwen, but it was like a palpable need within me." He frowned as the memory rose to the surface. "I searched our camps, even among our dead, though it made me sick. I couldn't find any trace of him. In a blind panic, I resolved to search the dead of Mercia. It led to a whole debacle because of their cultural beliefs about their dead but…"
He turned the memory over in his mind again. Something about it bugged him. What was it? What was—his eyes widened with shock as it hit him, then narrowed again, this time in anger. "That lying—pig farmer's son!"
Gwen's brows arched at the veiled insult. It wasn't like Arthur to throw insults around, not since Merlin was gone. Secretly, she thought it reminded him too much of the missing warlock. The two used to banter like that, tossing insults back and forth at each other. Even more rare, he hadn't expressed exactly why and how he had a problem with this person, only alluded to it. Her curiosity peaked; she had to know what upset him so. "What?"
"Prince Sebastian. He already knew! He already knew when I was describing Merlin, who I was talking about. He let me stand there, like a fool, trying to find out information over whether or not my friend was dead or alive!"
"Did he at least give a clue as to why he might do such a thing?" Gwen asked, sounding both genuinely appalled and still wanting to look for the best in people.
"No. Not at all! The only thing he said…" He trailed off, remembering what was said between them.
"The only thing he said?" Gwen prompted. When her husband didn't immediately respond, Gwen nudged him gently. "Arthur?"
"He asked what I would do if I found Merlin. He asked what I would do to him if I brought him back to Camelot. Gwen, I think… I think he was worried I might still want to execute Merlin for magic."
She nodded slowly. It was a reasonable conclusion to come to, if one didn't know the relationship between the King and his ex-manservant, if they hadn't witnessed their closeness and bond first hand. "Well, would you?"
Arthur fell silent again. "I don't know." He finally admitted. "I don't know what to think about Merlin's magic."
"Well, why don't you ask him?"
"I can't. They won't let me anywhere near him. I tried, after I chased down the Prince, desperately hoping that a patrol around his border might lead to some sort of clue about Merlin's whereabouts. When I found him, I was overjoyed, but the princes, they intervened. I barely exchanged a few words with him before they took him away, saying it was time for him to go home."
Home. As if Merlin could have any other home than Camelot.
"Then, perhaps you should go in disguise and observe him in secret. Surely you could try that?" Gwen suggested. He blinked and looked at his queen. "I imagine Merlin will probably use his magic more freely there than he ever did here. After all, you outed him as a sorcerer."
He blinked at her once more before beaming. He kissed her full on the mouth, conveying his gratitude. "Gwen, my dear, you are a genius."
"Yes. I know I am. It's why you love me." She smiled humbly, teasing over the compliment. "Now, go get ready. It'll take you almost a week to reach Mercia, just enough time for them to get settled into their normal routines."
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
The door opened and Arthur turned. He took two steps closer to the Crown Prince. Alistair nodded once in greeting and then gestured to the chairs, as if offering for Arthur to make himself comfortable. Despite the gesture, he had yet to say a word and his expression was completely closed off. What was he trying to pull? Shifting back his hood, Arthur refused to be intimidated. "I mean to cause no harm or disruption with my presence in your country. I only wish to… to observe Merlin, to see him with my own eyes as a… a sorcerer."
The words were hard to choke out but once they were, Arthur felt emboldened. It was one thing to send a messenger ahead with the request and quite another to say it face to face, to show his resolve in the matter. He defiantly lifted his chin. He would not leave without watching Merlin, without seeing him, at least for a short while. Alistair seemed to see this in his expression and looked him over slowly, as if assessing. Finally, the Crown Prince spoke.
"Merlin is free to come and go as he chooses. Likewise, we care little for your activities in our kingdom, so long as they are not viewed as a threat. Your movements will be somewhat restricted, as you are a foreign power, but you are free to interact with our citizens as you deem fit. However…" He trailed off, turning slightly to catch the King's eye, and waited until he was sure he had Arthur's undivided attention. "Harming Merlin in anyway, intentional or not, will be considered a threat. One I take very personally."
He paused and took a breath. The exhale that followed sounded more like a resigned sigh to Arthur. "That said, I have discussed it with my brother and we agreed to your request. You may observe Merlin in secret for up to two weeks time. Interact with him, observe him, and follow him as you will. All that we ask is that you be mindful of your surroundings and not interrupt our country's daily life if you can help it."
Arthur nodded curtly in understanding. "Of course. I understand. Thank you for your cooperation."
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
Alistair left Arthur in the room alone, hidden under his disguise. There was a small ache in his chest, which he was ignoring. It hurt more than he was willing to admit that during the rocky time in his fragile, tentatively new friendship with Merlin, Arthur had to intrude. He still hadn't had a chance to get right with the warlock yet. Now he had to deal with the vying for his attention from Gwaine and avoiding Arthur. He was beginning to think that if things didn't improve for them within the very near future, they would never reconcile. He was not good with words, however, and apologies required many flowery words, which he would not even know where to begin. He did not have the tongue of a born courtier; he did not know how to make this right. Running out of options, he cast futilely for the one thing he hoped might work. Where words failed him, perhaps actions could make up.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
This passing week had been strange, Merlin mused to himself. The strangers whom he'd given directions to, one of which was most definitely not a stranger, had come to the kitchen palace the next day. Some had remained hidden from sight and only his time at Arthur's side gave him the ability to pick out the slightly suspicious slinking in the crowd of the ones following him. The first to approach him was the one in the orange cloak. He wanted to know if there were any herbs he could find to help with his throat. Merlin laughed, saying he was just a simple kitchen worker, not the physician's assistant, but that he could take him to see the Court Physician. There was something familiar about his voice, despite the gravelly sound it was making currently. The stranger tried not to talk much but slowly, an idea formed in Merlin's mind, clicking into place as he left him with the physician. He glanced back and he wasn't surprised in the least when, just as he was turning the corner, a man in a faded teal coat and man in a faded crimson cloak entered after the supposed stranger. He'd recognized that voice. Now he just had to figure out what he was doing in Mercia and whom he'd brought with him.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
This week had been a strange week, the Court Physician thought to himself. He was getting too old for this cloak and dagger nonsense. He remembered how it all started, at the beginning of the week.
He looked up as Merlin ushered in a man in an orange cloak. The warlock appeared to be doing better, his coloring almost back to normal, the physician noted. He turned his attention to the shrouded man. "Well, well. What have you brought me today, Merlin?"
"He's complaining of a cold. He seems to have gotten lost in the kitchens looking for you." Merlin explained, governing at the man's side. The physician moved to push back the cloak, intending to exam him more throughly, but the man ducked under his hands, hood turning to look at Merlin.
"Thank… you." The man's scratchy voice got out but the court physician immediately recognized the sound of a patient faking it. He frowned slightly at the man.
"You'll be fine now. The physician will treat you." Merlin replied, smiling. If he noticed anything amiss, he didn't show it. He turned to go, but the physician stopped him.
"Merlin, wait. Let me have a look at you while you're here."
Merlin groaned but turned around again. "I'm fine, really."
"I'll be the judge of that." He touched his hands to the warlock's neck, making sure there were no masts. It was all clear, and there was no indication of fever either. Good, that was good. Next, he checked his eyes, ears, and nose. He seemed to be back to normal, but his coloring was still off slightly and he seemed a bit cool to the touch, which was worrying. He frowned mildly at him.
"See? Completely fine. I'm even back to my normal coloring!" Merlin told him, trying to escape his scrutiny.
"Almost back to your normal coloring. You gave everyone a fright, running off in the middle of the night like that. You'd barely recovered, your fever hadn't even fully broken, and yet you still went gallivanting to Camelot to—"
Merlin glanced at the cloaked man, showing he wasn't as oblivious as he appeared. The physician instantly cut off, realizing there must be more going on here than what was just on the surface. The cloaked man stiffened under their scrutiny, where moments before, he'd been keenly interested in their conversation. Merlin quickly dismissed the physician's concerns with a wane smile. "I told you, I'm fine now. I have to get back to the kitchens."
"Wait."
Merlin stifled a groan but the physician paid him no heed. Keeping a wary eye on his new 'sick' guest, he rummaged through his cabinets before he finally found the vial he needed. He turned and walked deliberately over to the warlock, handing him the vial. "That this three times a day, today and tomorrow as well. I expect to see you tomorrow evening. I need to report back to Prince Alistair on your condition."
Merlin made a sour face that the vial, which instantly went blank at the mention of the crown prince. He stiffened noticeably and the physician felt rather than saw his guest take an interest in their conversation anew. "If he's so worried about me, he should ask me about my condition himself!" Merlin hissed under his breath.
"He paced down the halls, looking for every excuse to visit my chambers while you lay here. He came at the dead of night once your fever started to break, refused to leave your side. He was devastated when you disappeared. Whatever is going on between you two, you need to end it. Obviously, you both are unhappy with your current predicament." He kept his voice low as well, understanding that they shouldn't be overheard.
Merlin frowned but looked thoughtful. He glanced up, noticed the hooded man watching them, and made a childish face. "He started it!" With that parting shot, he flounced out of the room. The physician stared after him for a long moment before he sighed and turned back to the cloaked man.
"So? Tell me about this supposed ailment you have." He asked tiredly.
The cloaked man stiffened visibly, obviously not expecting the question. How he expected to pull one over a physician was a mystery. He clearly needed better acting skills. "What do you mean?"
"If you wish to fake an illness, you still have a long way to go before you're convincing."
"I—" The man stammered, but two cloaked men entered his office before he could come up with a decent excuse. The physician furrowed his eyebrows at them. The crimson cloaked man made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
"It's quite alright, Elyan. I'll take it from here." He pushed back his hood. "I am King Arthur, King of Camelot. With me are my trusted knights, Sir Elyan, and Sir Leon. We require your assistance for ourselves and a few other knights not currently present. We wish to observe Merlin in secret and this requires some level of discretion, as you can imagine. Is there anything you can give us to disguise our voices? And perhaps our appearances as well."
He'd known from the crown prince to possibly expect foreigners traveling in disguise, but he'd made it sound like they were diplomats, maybe even envoys. He would have expected courtiers, but this was pushing his limitations. A foreign king? What was the crown prince thinking? Perhaps it was one of those secret meetings between kings that common folk often heard rumors about, but somehow, that didn't seem quite right. Still, he knew his place and gave an awkward bow to the foreign king.
"I can give you some herbs to change your voice, make it a higher or lower pitch, but as for changing your appearance… Short of magic, that's impossible, your majesty."
King Arthur stiffens at the mention of magic. "You would dare to propose using magic on the King of Camelot?"
"Not at all, sire. I was merely pointing out how unlikely the scenario is; short of rubbing leaves that cause skin irritation, there is little I can do."
"Skin irritation?"
"It could cause some puffiness, red splotches, and bumps. In rare cases, it can cause peeling of the skin—"
"Perfect."
His knights looked at him in alarm but King Arthur looked pleased with the idea. The court physician stared at him in alarm. He hadn't expected the king to truly take him up on the idea. "Sire, I don't presume to tell you your business, but it will be severely uncomfortable—"
"It will disguise our appearances enough. Puffiness, red splotches, those will go away in a few days but the appearance might be just enough to fool Merlin if he were to peek under one of our hoods."
The knights nodded unhappily, clearly not as enthusiastic for this masochistic plan as their king. The court physician's brows furrowed but he'd already said his piece. If the foolish king wished to inflict misery on himself and his knights, it was not his place to question him. He prepared the herbs he needed, a few remedies, and diligently applied the elixirs. Their voices were disguised perfectly, their pitches ranging greatly from their usual voices. It was the appearance altering that concerned him but they bore it rather well. He instructed them to apply the lotions at night, else there might be permanent damage, then sent them on his way.
He was getting too old for these games of intrigue that the younger folk played…
Staring out his window, he watched them follow the seemingly clueless warlock. He wasn't sure what their quest was, although it was clear from what they said and how they behaved it had something to do with the young man. What in the world could have brought them this far in regards to him?
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
"I'm going to kill him."
"Hush, Elyan."
"Easy for you to say, Leon. I think I've just about scratched off my face."
Leon sighed. Arthur's dedication was to be admired but he, too, wished his king was a little less enthusiastic about pursuing Merlin, at least in this manner.
"And that physician said it might do permanent damage if we're not careful. What will Gwen say if I come home with a puffy face?"
"If it's any consultation, if it comes to that, the king's face will be just as marred. He uses more leaves than we do."
Elyan's face split in a malicious smile. "It would serve him right, to go home to my sister looking like that."
Leon sighed again. Elyan still hadn't forgiven their king for hurting his sister, not that he blamed the knight but it made tensions difficult to deal with in times like these. They needed to stick together, not pick fights.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
Arthur ignored the whispering of his knights behind him. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed their mutinous attitude due to discomfort. He didn't like the itchy sensation on his face any better than they did, but this week had been successful because of it, he was sure of it. Merlin always seemed capable of seeing right through him at the most inconvenient of times. He couldn't afford for him to do that again. It had taken time, more time than he thought it would, to get close to his former manservant.
Oh, Merlin was still friendly enough. He was always ready, eager even, to help them. He would direct them wherever they needed to go, even help get them there, but he didn't stick around and Arthur was quickly learning that he was good at deflection. Very good at it. He briefly wondered if he'd had that talent before he left Camelot or if he'd picked it up here. There were also times when he was almost standoffish. It wasn't easy to befriend him. He was wary of strangers, it seemed, and didn't like to stray far from the palace kitchens.
The most disconcerting thing to witness, however, was his relationship with Prince Sebastian. It seemed that he was trying to stay mad at the prince, but he would come around and tease his former manservant until he was laughing and smiling again, saying he made it impossible to stay mad at him. They were companions. They were colleagues. They were equals, despite their different birth statuses. That was something he used to have, and longed for, and it was painful to see someone else flaunting it so easily in front of him. The only solace he found was that Merlin didn't seem to have that same relationship with the crown prince. The two had awkward moments between them, stony silences, and while he didn't understand the meaning behind those moments, he took comfort in them. He wasn't being replaced. He hadn't been replaced. Merlin wouldn't belong to another king.
Despite all this, however, Arthur had yet to observe the one thing he wanted to observe. Merlin didn't practice magic. He was so sure that once he was outed as a sorcerer, he would be practicing every day. Yet, he rarely used it openly. He would be surprised if he used it at all, except that Merlin openly admitted and talked about it, gossiping happily with the kitchen staff. He would tell them tales, which made his heart ache, of his times in Camelot and of his journeys with him. After a week of frustration, he finally worked up the courage to ask him about it. Of course, just as he was about to ask the question, his former knight, infuriatingly, arrived and wrapped a friendly arm around Merlin's shoulders.
"Hey there, Merlin!"
"Gawain! Done teasing the barmaids already?"
"They have too many dandies today. I can't possibly compete. Comfort me, my friend!" Gawain replied with mock feeling, leaning heavily on his friend.
"Ouch, Gawain, you're heavy!" Merlin laughed, shoving him off.
Gawain looked at him, eyes narrowing for a moment as they always did when they locked on his former king, before returning to the lazy drawl. "Still playing tour guide to the out of towners, I see."
"Yes. I think soon they'll be able to manage on their own."
True, Merlin was an excellent tour guide and that just meant less time to spend with him and observe him. Arthur had to hurry. "I have a question." He winced at his ridiculously high pitched voice and Gawain's face split with a huge smile.
Merlin turned to look at him, giving him his full attention.
"About the stories you tell in the kitchens."
Merlin smiled indulgently. "Do you want to hear some stories as well?"
"Well, no, not right now. But in them, you practice magic, right?"
Merlin nodded slowly. "Yes. I have always practiced magic."
That… was an odd phrasing. No, don't get distracted. "Well, when did you turn to magic?"
Merlin stayed silent, looking lost in thought. Gawain perked up upon hearing the question. "Yes, actually, that's a good question. I don't remember you saying anything about that in Camelot. You told us all about what you could do, but never the reasons why you turned to magic."
"It never occurred to me to mention it. Really, I wouldn't mention it unless asked."
"Why's that?" Arthur's heart beat faster, in anticipation of the answer.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"Well, I suppose because I've always had magic. I was born with it."
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Gawain stared at him in shock. "Wh…at?" Arthur couldn't find his voice, couldn't speak. That was impossible. Impossible!
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"I've always been like this. I was born with magic." Merlin repeated. "You see, I didn't choose to live like this. I've talked to many people, hoping to find some answer, but as far as I can tell, I alone am like this."
Even Morgana, as powerful as she was, hadn't been born with magic but had it awaken later in life. It was lonely, knowing he was the only one in the world like this.
"There hasn't yet been someone who can answer the question of what I am. All I know is that I have this great destiny before me, and that I don't have magic—"
"No, you definitely have magic—" Gawain argued.
"I don't have magic, I am magic." Merlin cut him off.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Silence threatened to choke them all as they stared at Merlin. Arthur finally found his voice and what rasped out sounded more like himself than he wished to admit. "What does that mean?"
Merlin either ignored the voice chance or didn't notice it. He gave them a wane smile. "I'm connected to everything magic. Everyone connected to it as well, it seems. They've been telling stories of my coming before I was even born."
"What stories? I've never heard stories about you, and I've been to a lot of bars." Gawain eyed Merlin suspiciously.
"The Druids tell them, mostly. Besides, you probably wouldn't recognize that they were about me. They have another name for me."
"What name?" Elyan spoke up.
Merlin stared straight at Arthur, as if staring through the cloak to see his former king. "Emyrs."
They all started and Gawain's arm slipped away from Merlin's shoulders. Of course they had all heard of Emyrs. Emyrs was supposedly the greatest warlock who would ever live. But, but that was impossible!
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"You're… Emyrs?"
Merlin nodded. "That is what the Druids call me, yes."
"But… Emyrs is… He's…"
"He's extremely powerful." Gawain got out where Arthur struggled to put words together.
"I am."
"He's a warlock!"
"I am."
"You! You have this great destiny! You're supposed to unite all the lands! You're—"
Merlin took a step back, cutting off his friend. He suddenly looked so much older and slowly, he shook his head. "No."
"Merlin?"
"No, Emyrs has a great destiny. A heavy burden that I tried to carry for a long time, true, but that's over now."
"Merlin—"
"Emyrs had a great destiny, it's true, but that has nothing to do with me anymore."
Arthur's throat tightened until it ached. He barely managed to whisper the word. "Had?"
But Merlin heard and looked at him. "Emyrs' destiny has always been tied to Camelot and to it's king. Those ties were cut. There is no destiny left to fulfill. Excuse me."
He suddenly turned heel and quickly began walking away, disappearing into the crowd. Gawain called after him to wait, chasing him into the crowd.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
N¡√43M ~ MERLIN
PS: The next update will soon be coming. There is at least one more section to this chapter.