Chapter 14: Reaching Merlin
"Shall I take him, Sire?" Percival asked solicitously, keeping pace behind Arthur leading Merlin across the courtyard to the great stairs.
"No, I…" Arthur could not explain his curious reluctance to be parted from his enchanted sorcerer, not when there was tangible hope for the first time since Bors had said, There is no visible wound, sire – but with magic, who can say… "I will keep him with me."
He didn't remember anything pressing in his schedule – Leon could handle the training session and probably they'd be done in a few hours – and nothing that couldn't be deferred, anyway, according to the king's wish. They two took Merlin's arms to help him keep balance, and to encourage the directionless feet to climb the stairs, one after another, til they reached the top.
Then Arthur added, to stop the big man turning away, "But – you don't have to leave."
Percival had been Merlin's friend, also; his square serious face split wide on a surprisingly boyish smile. Hopeful, and relieved. "I'll wait for you in Gaius' chambers, shall I?"
Arthur nodded, and Percival took the stairs to the right, leaving him to guide Merlin, slowly but surely, toward the receiving chamber that now housed the dragon's egg. His two ever-present guards took positions on either side of the double doors that Arthur left open, on the outside as there were already two men stationed inside to watch over the egg. He crossed the floor to the oddly-shaped blue-white marvel, waiting patiently on a plinth to one side; Merlin followed obediently, and still showed no sign of awareness of his proximity to it. This time, Arthur dared to take Merlin's hand, lift it to the rounded point that topped the egg, and wrap the dragonlord's fingers around that curve.
But of course, nothing happened.
"Awe-inspiring, is it not?" someone said, and Arthur raised his eyes to see Lord Bernard, in the shadow between the plinth and the wall, facing the egg with his hands clasped habitually behind his back. "Something so powerful, and yet so vulnerable. So untamable, and yet… inert."
Arthur wondered if he was talking solely about the egg.
"I heard the truth about what happened to young Merlin, though I haven't yet crossed paths with him," Bernard went on, stepping forward til he was just on the other side of the displayed dragons'-egg. "Of course, everyone has by now. At first, people seemed – unnerved at the thought of what magic can do, even to other creatures of magic. But now… more sympathetic?"
He'd noticed the same thing, in their walk. And wondered, if the king had not accompanied Merlin and his self-appointed guards – Percival, Gwen, Tobe, even Gaius once or twice - if more people might not have stopped them to put their feelings into speech. Ironic, that such a tragedy would make folks relax toward the victim. Just as they'd done when Merlin had been arrested, and then apparently executed.
"No doubt the druids were helpful?" Bernard said, almost solicitously.
Arthur snorted - news did travel fast in the citadel – then inhaled deliberately, deciding. "They knew of no way to break the curse, either," he said. Which was accurate, if not entirely truthful. "It's complicated, evidently, but we've received word that the one responsible has already received due punishment, killed by one of my knights in defending himself. So we can no longer hope to persuade that man to lift the enchantment… The druids offered only, a way to communicate with Merlin, wherever he is, inside his mind."
He refrained from adding the detail, they no longer believed Borden had been the origin of the magic. Gwaine did his best work when no one knew he was doing it; if there was information or an accomplice to be found, he had no doubt that Gwaine wouldn't rest til it was uncovered.
"Interesting… But otherwise, it may never be undone?" Bernard guessed. "Sire, I – know this may not be the time, but perhaps… it's for the best?" Arthur shot him a look, and he freed his hands to hold them up, palms out. "I'm not blind, Majesty – nor are you. It can't have been easy for him, coming back. I wonder, if the enchantment isn't lifted, if he shouldn't be taken to his home village, and allowed to live out a quiet simple life."
Perhaps if he was not involved – maybe not in the kingdom at all – people would find it easier to begin anew on this alternate course you've set…
Perhaps the crystals would allow him to speak to Merlin. But what if Gwaine was ultimately unable to find who had woven the spell? and what if Merlin could not find that loose end, to unravel it himself? Would he keep his friend's body nearby, just to speak to him by the crystals occasionally, ask for advice, seek encouragement? What would the council, or the people, make of that? What would Merlin himself want – to return to Ealdor, to his mother's care and maybe a crystal-link with her?
Arthur sighed, reminding himself that a warrior should not think of the paralyzing what-if's. If the druids had faith in Merlin, so should he.
"Sire, is it true?" a voice interrupted, and drew his attention to the door.
Lords Urbert and Emund – the one not so pale and limp, the other not so absent-minded-looking – both out of breath, as if they'd just rushed to find him, on hearing the latest gossip about magic in Camelot. Which they probably had.
Urbert added, "We heard that you were approached by druids – that you invited them to return – that you plan to allow them to transgress the law to aid your – well, him."
"Yes, that's true," Arthur said. He felt surprisingly calm. Perhaps because he wasn't facing the council entire, or perhaps because he didn't actually care what they had to say, this time. He didn't need their approval for this. "They offered a possible means to a solution, negotiating no terms and requiring no compensation." Essentially.
"Why would they do that?" Emund asked; he sounded both baffled and curious.
"Because of their respect for Merlin." In gesturing, he saw that the dragonlord still had his hand rested on the egg – with his gaze far to the distance, he almost looked… noble. Thoughtful, and melancholy. "I intended to open communications with the druids at an opportune time in the future anyway, learn more about their customs – both magical and otherwise – in an attempt to reach a peaceful accord with them. If possible."
"A treaty? with the druids?" Urbert nearly screeched.
Bernard moved out from behind the dragon's-egg plinth, his brows lowered skeptically.
"I had intended to discuss it with the council before contacting the druids," Arthur said mildly. "Perhaps that can be organized more swiftly, now that they're to stay for some time."
"Druids in Camelot…" Urbert made a choked sound, swinging away to pace further into the room, as if activity could dispel disbelief – or change reality.
"But sire," Emund said quietly. "They will be breaking the law as it stands, with every performance of magic – as will you, if you participate."
"My father broke his own laws when it suited him, did he not," Arthur pointed out. Determinedly ignoring his usual protest to any comparison, I am not my father…
"Will you hold a trial for them, then?" Bernard inquired. "Are they aware of that?"
"There will be no trial," Arthur said, "unless one of them commits some other crime. I've pardoned them already for the magic."
"What?" Urbert said, spinning to face them and raising his voice – ostensibly to carry the distance, Arthur was sure. "You cannot pardon a crime before it has been committed!"
Arthur breathed twice. In, then out.
"King Uther condemned many, before any crime had been committed. And you lot sat his council and allowed it. Supported it. You cared more for your wealth and authority and position than the people of the kingdom."
Silence rang through the chamber.
"Perhaps you are right," Bernard said evenly, with an odd spark in his eyes. "But as that is in the past, what would you have us do to rectify it."
"I would have you stand on your principles!" Arthur said – not berating these three of his councilmen, but speaking as he would to knights before a battle. "I would have you lead the people, not be led by them! I would have you oppose me honestly, then follow me fully, I would have you broaden your narrow minds to the truth, and trust me!"
"The truth," Urbert said, his face reddening, "like the things told to us by the sorcerer there? Murders committed, monsters and criminals freed? He acted as a law unto himself, and you have given him the freedom to keep doing it!"
"Not so!" Arthur returned forcefully. "I have given him the freedom to place himself under the law and trust in fair treatment! He need no longer act alone to defend those he loves against threats they cannot hope to defeat without him, he need no longer hide and lie about how he does it."
"You're enchanted," Urbert said bluntly.
And Arthur had never wanted to hit someone in the face with his fist, as much as he wanted to in that moment. He keenly regretted that it was a lord he was dealing with, rather than a knight, and he could not throw a glove at Urbert's feet and beat him black and blue in the arena.
"He's clearly not," Emund inserted mildly, addressing his fellow nobleman – and it surprised Arthur into releasing his temper. "Use your head, Urbert, not your spleen. Merlin is clearly currently incapable of holding an enchantment over anyone. This is your king you are dealing with, and please God the only one we'll have for the rest of our lives."
Urbert drew himself up, eyeing Arthur as if he'd never seen him before – or at least not for a very long time. And Arthur understood why his father had always dressed so formally, and often wore the crown. To remind.
"Convene the council if you like, to discuss the druid presence in Camelot," he said. "But they are my guests, and are to be treated accordingly."
Urbert seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then swallowed his pique – almost choked on it – performed a perfunctory bow and spun on his heel to storm out the door.
"I wouldn't worry about him if I were you," Emund told Arthur, folding his hands over his paunch. "He sustained significant losses the last two times the blonde witch attempted to take Camelot – you know this, of course, you've read the reports. It's not that he truly believes magic is evil, he only fears that releasing the tight legal strictures on it, will cause more chaos and damage."
"Not if it's done correctly," Arthur said. "Slowly and carefully, I have to believe that."
Emund took a deep breath and looked Arthur over, much as Urbert had done, his lower lip drooping open over his beard in that misleadingly-foolish expression. Then said, "Magic really is going to return to Camelot, isn't it."
"One way or another," Bernard put in before Arthur could say anything. He was studying Merlin - hand still on the egg, gazing away in the air – with a frown on his face. "Your Majesty – when the druids come to perform their magic, it might be advisable if you had a witness for the council present. To observe."
And why did Arthur expect Bernard wanted to volunteer himself? "You may be right," he said only. "I'll have Sir Leon, as the current heir to the throne."
Bernard opened his mouth again, maybe to object, but - fortuitous timing –
"Sire?" It was Leon himself, at the open double doors. Maybe just coming from the training field; his red-gold hair was dampened slightly. "The druids have returned – Sir Brenner is escorting them to the physician's chamber to await you both."
"Very good," Arthur said, agreeing with their evident decision to visit the dragons'-egg at some appropriate time in the future. "Sir Leon, you'll accompany us, if you please. My lords, good day to you." All three men bowed, and he grabbed Merlin's wrist, tucking his hand into his elbow to lead him to the doors.
Just too late, he remembered that Merlin's other hand was still wrapped around the odd peak of the blue-white egg and looked back, expecting to see it dragged to a fall – Gaius' assurance about its durability at odds with instincts about what happened to eggs dropped on stone floors – and Merlin lifted his hand away from the egg lightly, almost caressingly, without so much as a bump, or wobble. Arthur sighed in relief, though there was still no spark of awareness in his friend's blue eyes; the others didn't seem to have noticed Arthur's worry.
On the way to Gaius' chamber, Arthur divided his attention between leading Merlin – he was in a hurry and didn't want his young friend, clumsy at the best of times, to have an accident unwittingly – and giving Leon a brief summary of the day's events.
Leon absorbed without question, murmuring interest and agreement, and finally inhaling in shared hopefulness. He stepped forward to open Gaius' worn wooden door for them; Arthur was surprised – then not – then a little nervous, to see so many gathered.
Gaius of course, standing with his back to them, holding something to the light of the window for examination. But also Gwen and Percival and Tobe, the boy standing on the bench by the table under the window, observing Gaius without getting in the old physician's way. And all three of the druids in a row at the opposite side of the room, hoods down but hands tucked inside their cloaks.
"Well, all right then," Arthur said, a bit awkwardly. "But not Tobe."
The boy began to protest, but Gwen moved forward, snagging a basket and the boy's hand. "Come on, we can try for some rosemary."
"But I don't want to, I want to watch…"
"It'll be a dull business for the rest of us." The druid woman Shana spoke unexpectedly to the boy. "Nothing to see but the two of them sitting there like they're asleep – you won't miss a thing, I promise."
"Would you like to come with us?" Gwen said, just as suddenly, addressing the druid woman. "I mean – yes I know you're probably in the woods all the time and of course you probably know the healing herbs – unless of course you can heal with magic, but I only thought –"
"Yes," Shana said, interrupting Gwen's self-consciousness, and Arthur found himself inclined to smile. "Yes, thank you for the offer, it's – most kind of you."
"I will come as well," the dark-skinned druid declared, moving to follow Shana, who looked relieved to have his company – as Arthur felt, to have one less member of an audience.
Not so Tobe, or Gwen. But Arthur believed, it would be all right. Trust and friendship were based upon familiarity, after all, and that was only achieved through continued company.
Gwen passed her free arm around Arthur's ribs, rising up to whisper in his ear, "Good luck."
Something tight in his chest warmed and eased, though he noticed both druids seemed surprised and intrigued by a maid's intimacy with him. Let them make of it what they would; it would be only a matter of time before the world knew the truth. Six months counting down.
She stepped past him to hug Merlin one-armed also, pulling his head down to kiss his cheek, then pushing gently on his chest to return him to his full height.
"It'll work, I'm sure it'll work," Tobe was telling her as the two druids followed them out the door.
Leon closed it behind them. And deliberately set the bar in place, turning to take a guard's stance, meeting Arthur's eyes determinedly.
"Yes, I think so, Sir Leon, thank you," Gaius agreed, handing the item he'd been examining to Iseldir, silver chains trailing over their hands. "Sire, if you could bring Merlin here…" Percival positioned a bench, and helped Arthur coax Merlin's body into straddling it. "Iseldir, perhaps you would prefer to explain the procedure to His Majesty?"
"Of course."
Iseldir opened his hand to show two crystals nestled together, each with a setting for a separate chain of braided silver strands. One was clear, presenting white in the angles of its facets. The other was black but not opaque – the lines of light from its partner crystal were visible through it, as Iseldir held it up, just as it colored the clear half when turned again.
"The Seowan crystals," Iseldir said. "One for the visiting mind, one for the host mind." He opened the chain of the black crystal, sliding it over Merlin's head while still holding the two pieces connected. "Nothing holds them together but natural resonance, so do be careful not to separate them. It maybe not be possible to realign their energies to function properly again, and if it occurred while you were in his mind – you might not be able to get back to yourself again." The druid indicated that Arthur should seat himself mirroring Merlin's position, knee to knee.
"About that," Arthur said. "How do I get in, and back out?"
"To enter his mind, you need only slip this chain around your own neck," Iseldir said, the silver strands draped across his fingers, though he still held the crystals together in his other hand. "You will remember who you are and where you are – that is, you will be aware that what you see isn't real, but only in Emrys' mind. You will find that you wear something similar there, and to disconnect from his mind, you need only pull that piece off over your head. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Arthur's heart was thudding in his chest, the rest of his body reacting like he anticipated entrance to an arena. Except, this was a fight with weaponry entirely foreign to him. Watching Merlin perform magic and trusting his friend was… not the same, as what he was preparing to do. What if… Arthur mentally stamped the doubt very far down.
"We will, however, limit the time for you," Iseldir warned him. "Too long is not good for you, no matter how you feel during the period of connection – exhaustion is a very real concern."
"I understand." Arthur glanced at his friends again; Gaius trying to be stern, Leon stoic, Percival impassive – but hope so clearly written on all three of them.
I can't let them down.
Arthur looked into Merlin's face – expressionless, and gazing somewhere in the vicinity of his left ear – and amended the thought.
I can't let him down.
He reached for the chain, opening it on the fingers of both hands as Iseldir positioned the conjoined crystals and prepared to release them.
It was like drawing a hood over his head. He inhaled, and felt the chain brush the back of his neck and –
Darkness descended.
…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..
Kilgarrah didn't answer. Though Merlin was quite sure, somehow, that he was near. He sensed dragon, waiting and saying nothing. It was frustrating, and he didn't like to give up.
When he opened his eyes, it was to a sudden and bizarre dizziness, and he almost fell flat on his back, even from a seated position. It took him a long moment of blinking to make the cell-which-smelled-of-stable quit swimming in his vision.
Ally approached him from the center of her cell, kneeling on the other side of the bars that separated them, and something about that was disorienting, too.
"How long was I –" Merlin began, and couldn't think of a good word to describe what he'd attempted.
"Not long," she said. "Your friend?"
Merlin shook his head. "I think we're on our own… Those spells I tried earlier, though, were for opening doors – and did you notice, our cells don't have them?"
She frowned over her shoulder, troubled, and he thought, How'd they get us in, then, if there aren't any –
"Anyway, I thought I'd try a different one," he said. "Athwinan thas heard."
And – nothing happened. His magic wasn't gone, it just wasn't responding. Disconnected.
He made a sound that was equal parts grunt and sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Don't feel bad," she said to him, shifting from her knees to her hip, leaning into the bars.
"Haven't they brought food?" Merlin asked. Or a bucket, he didn't say in front of a female. He wondered again how long he'd been occupied trying to reach Kilgarrah – odd that he'd lose track of time like that. Though he wasn't particularly hungry, either. "I suppose all we can do is wait…"
"Will you… talk to me?" she ventured shyly. "Tell me about… your friends?"
"Well," Merlin thought of one person that Ally might be most interested in. "There's Gwen, she used to be a lady's maid but she's assisting our court physician Gaius these days – he's another friend of mine – but if you ask me, it won't be long til she's more. Arthur's in love with her, you see, and now that Uther's dead –"
Her blue eyes widened and she tensed back from the bars, lifting her hands as if to cover her ears. "Not about them."
Merlin remembered, he wasn't at all sure Uther was dead… He could see very clearly an image of the old king lifeless upon his pillow, motionless under his blanket, Arthur seated by the bedside in his dark blue cloak, forehead bent on clasped hands, elbows on his knees, but. All ten fingers meant he hadn't been to trial – hadn't faced the questioner – killed the questioner?
"Tell me of your other friends?" she suggested softly, beginning to calm herself. "You mentioned knights… you said names. Lancelot. And Gwaine?"
"I thought they were knights, but…" Merlin examined his hands again, and shook his head, rubbing them together uneasily. "Never mind. Lancelot, I met him first. Out in the woods, a commoner coming to Camelot to learn how to be a knight."
He told her of the griffon and how Lancelot had saved him, how he'd tried to repay his new friend – though he kept the thought to himself, it was not meant to be, that way, not through deception it was much better now that Arthur had knighted him truly… or – one day would?... He told her of how Lancelot had seen and heard too much, the night they'd killed the griffon, that his friend had said nearly in the same breath, I know, and I won't tell.
He told her about one day after a hunt, and a decision made for a mug of ale in a local tavern. He wished he could tell her of Arthur's part in that story, how he'd decided to mingle unknown with his people, and not for the first time, how he'd stepped between the tavern owner and a brigand without depending on his name – I'm the king's son, Arthur – to save him.
Merlin told Ally of a stranger stepping in, though the odds were nowhere near their favor; stepping in days later to save Merlin from the fairly serious threat of two seeming lords who had been pleased to take justice into their own hands. And wished he could tell her how Arthur had spoken up for Gwaine, how he'd relinquished the glory of the melee win – and hadn't really seemed that upset to see Gwaine's face behind the helmet visor.
"They seem like true friends," Ally ventured.
"They are," Merlin said immediately. "I'd trust them with my life."
"So Lancelot knew of your magic – but did Gwaine?" She peered at him between the bars of their prison.
"Yes," Merlin said. "He found out just after I was executed, he looked after me – helped me look after… at least, I think… I have this memory that he didn't care about the magic. He cared about me. So, even if he doesn't know…" He inhaled, feeling a slight ache of pressure at his temples and behind his eyes, and hummed his frustration with his mental uncertainty. "Mm. Your turn. Tell me about your friends – your family? Someone who'll be missing you, in here? Where you come from?"
She startled back, eyes wide. "No, I don't have friends. It's too dangerous – they could find out about my magic."
Merlin smiled, remembering Will. And then Gaius… and then Lancelot. "It's good to have at least one friend who knows," he said gently. "People will surprise you, sometimes. And care about you, more than about the magic – say, is yours working in here?" She flinched again as he shifted abruptly to get his knees under him. "How much training have you had? Learned lots of spells?"
She didn't answer, only stared at him as if she suddenly suspected he meant to betray her to the guards or King Uther.
"Try that one I just used. Athwinan thas heard." She shook her head violently, turning away to get her feet under her and retreat to the middle of her cell. He coaxed, "Come on, Ally, just try. I promised not to let anyone hurt you, but if I can't get my magic to work – what about yours? It's all right to try – I've tried many new things, and they've all worked eventually. If you can remove the bars –"
She stepped closer again, tentatively reaching out, and he grinned encouragement.
"Don't touch it, your mind might convince you that you can't," he told her. "Close your eyes, maybe, that'll help –" She obeyed; her fingers were trembling. "It's okay. Take a deep breath, and let it out, and… Ath-wi-nan thas he-ard."
She took two breaths. Then spoke, "Athwinan thas heard –" and as her eyes opened and glowed golden, two of the vertical bars that made up the iron grid between them, and one of the horizontal ones dissipated in a shimmer.
"Ha!" he said exultantly. "You did it! See, I told you, you could do it!"
Her fine peaked brows rose with her smile of excited achievement. She took a step closer, and her hand was firm. "Athwinan thas heard."
Another vertical, and two horizontal.
"Well done," Merlin said, pleased for her. "You should do the bars at the front of your cell, not here – you want to get out, don't you?"
Her hand dropped, and she eyed both walls of crossed metal bars as if seeing them for the first time. "But I can't… leave you."
"If you have to run, and leave me, to save your life, I want you to do it without a single look back, or regret," Merlin said, a bit sternly.
She gulped and nodded – understanding, if not agreement.
"But look," he continued, "I can probably fit through this gap here –" She retreated, once again showing fear, and Merlin paused in the action. "I won't, Ally, not unless you want me to. If you removed some bars on the front of your cell, though, you could get out and then I could follow, if you like? I'm sure I can take better care of you if I'm actually with you, yeah?"
She nodded, retracing steps slowly and hesitantly, hugging her arms to her body, and he smiled again.
"All right. Front bars?"
She turned toward the open guards' walkway, stretching out her hand – then screamed in absolute terror, scrambling for the furthest corner of her cell.
Merlin whirled – as Uther Pendragon stepped out from the blind corridor.
The king gave the cells – the two of them – a frowning glance, and demanded, "What is this?"
Merlin immediately ducked to thrust himself clumsily through the gap left by the bars Ally had removed, to enter her cell and shield her with his body. She was shaking like a leaf; he glared at the king with all the fire he could summon even magic-less.
"Stay back!" he spat desperately, feeling like he was seeing a ghost, himself.
"What the hell is going on here?" Uther said, covering bewilderment with an air of arrogant command, and looked back the way he'd come. "Are there guards here, too?"
Behind Merlin, Ally was moaning, "He's going to kill us, he's going to kill us, he's going to kill us - Athwinan thas heard!"
Light flooded the cells – which weren't actually all that dim – and Merlin twisted to see that Ally had removed a decent-sized chunk of the stone wall. Outside there was sunlight, and a grassy slope to the free forest.
"Hey, wait!" Uther protested, frowning.
"Do not follow us, Uther Pendragon," Merlin said with as much menace as he could manage – marking Ally's progress by the sound of her whimpers, and scrabbling over the stones and out. "I will not be responsible for what happens to you. Just – let us go."
Turning swiftly, he propelled himself through the uneven hole in the stone wall, before the king could call for guards to open the – door-less? – cells. Ally was cowering just outside, out of sight of the king; Merlin grabbed her hand and began to run for the forest.
Behind him, he heard the irate cry of his name – "Merlin!" – but didn't pause to look back at whatever part of the citadel they'd rendered vulnerable in their escape.
He wished he could have seen Arthur, instead. Later, maybe, when he'd gotten Ally to safety, he could return to watch over his prince in secret – there was that ruined castle that… Arthur had told him about, after…
For a time they only sprinted as fast as they could, as far as they could. Over roots and under branches and through bushes. Not a very long time – though when Ally gasped and pulled on his hand and he looked back, he could see nothing of the citadel or town.
"I can't! I can't do this!" There were tears on her pale cheeks. "I – I'm sorry!"
"You can, you can keep going –" Merlin's attempt at encouragement was cut short, as he faced forward again –
Just into a tree branch, it might be. Knocked himself right out.
…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..
Maybe he'd find Merlin lazily picking daisies in a wide field of wildflowers and thoroughly enjoying his unconscious time off. Maybe he'd find him locked in deadly magical combat with some indefinable monster.
Arthur hadn't expected prison. Or other people.
He didn't have a chance to speculate on the girl's identity – but if her scream of absolute terror unsettled him, it was nothing to what he felt at the look on Merlin's face. A face always so expressive it had often pained Arthur physically, to observe Merlin under this spell of empty serenity. But whatever expression he'd looked forward to seeing again, it wasn't this. He'd never seen this, before.
It was a fearful, respectful sort of loathing of the sort a wounded or unarmed soldier might cast upon his enemy when he feels himself surrounded. It stabbed through Arthur's chest in multiple places, pinning his lungs to shoulder-blades and draining blood from his heart to a small sick place in the pit of his stomach.
And he could only blurt stupidity. What is this, what the hell is going on, are there other people here… wait… Merlin…
Who'd called him – what?
Arthur reached to seize the bars of the cell as if he could force his way through and follow and command answers, but –
The sight of his hands stopped him. They were the hands of a sixty-year-old man, spotted and gnarled. That startled him into looking down; he was dressed in the unrelieved black of mourning, and upon his chest hung two silver medallions that were unmistakable, though he'd never worn them.
Merlin had called him Uther. Had warned – threatened? – him.
Arthur reached with strange hands – trembling hands – to touch his face. The skin sagged everywhere, except for his forehead, where grew no hair. And, over his right eye, there was a thin vertical line like a scar, like –
Just like his father.
The realization smothered him, overwhelmed him – I can't fight this battle, I can't I won't – and he was clawing at the medallions. They were Guilt and Responsibility, and he couldn't bear them, wouldn't bear their weight any longer. Get them off, get them both off, get me back to myself, back in my own body –
Bench between his knees, sunlight-brown room smelling of herbs. Someone else's body – Merlin – right in front of him. And swinging between them, the damn clear-and-dark crystals.
"Sire!"
"Arthur, hold on! Be careful!"
He growled, struggling to be free of the silver chain and the magic and there were strong hands holding him in place – helping him – He was free.
Arthur stumbled over the bench in retreating, realizing there were tears blurring his eyes and wetting his cheeks. Remembering his audience, he turned to the wall for a moment, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to reassert control, and turned the noise coming from his throat into something intentional.
"Sire?" That was Gaius, gentle hand familiar on his shoulder. "Are you all right? What happened? What did you see?"
"Gaius," he whispered. Not yet brave enough to drop his hands and look at them and face them. Look at Merlin. "Does Merlin think… I am just like my father?"
"No," the old man said, immediately and vehemently. Arthur let his arms swing down, and met Gaius' eyes over his shoulder. "No, he never did, not even in the beginning. You should know that, you should know he'd never dare speak to your father the way he spoke to you. Destiny or not, he wouldn't have fought for you and risked for you and suffered for you, if he hadn't known, you were good, and could be great."
Arthur nodded, latching to the old man's faith in a desperate attempt to make it his own.
"Come and sit," Gaius added. "Tell us what happened, what you saw."
He turned to the rest of the room – Percival and Leon stationed cautious and attentive at the table beside the bench, Iseldir carefully removing the second silver chain from Merlin. Who sat unmoved, vacant.
Arthur obeyed the insistent pressure of Gaius' hand to take two steps closer to the other men, but shook his head at the offer of Gaius' chair.
"Did you speak to Emrys?" Iseldir asked, coiling the chain and secreting the Seowan crystals somewhere within his cloak. "Did you explain about the enchantment?"
"He – didn't give me the chance," Arthur said, and cleared his throat because he didn't like the way his voice sounded. Admitting defeat. "I… evidently I appeared in his mind as Uther, and he fled from me."
Leon's eyes were wide; Percival looked at the seated sorcerer with a worried frown wrinkling his wide brow. Arthur wanted to shout his throat hoarse and swing his sword at targets until he was too exhausted to lift it – which might not be very long at all, the way his body felt – and then seek oblivion in sleep, himself.
"That's very interesting," Iseldir murmured.
Arthur felt his eyebrows go up at this unexpected reaction from the druid. "I beg your pardon. Why?"
"Where did you find him, if I may ask?" Iseldir said, not explaining.
"It was a prison cell –" Gaius inhaled, and Arthur assured both the old physician and Sir Leon, "not one I recognized, not one of ours. He was speaking to a girl, and when they saw me, he made his way between missing bars into her cell. Then they blasted their way through the stone and ran into a forest."
"Another person was there?" The druid's serenity shifted, betraying a moment of surprise.
"What does that mean, do you think?" Gaius asked, seating himself on the bench beside Merlin to check for signs of his physical health.
"It could very well be the person who wove the enchantment," Iseldir said. "In which case, it could also very well be her perception of you, Arthur, that influenced how Merlin saw you."
"You mean, she's persuaded him that I'm –"
"No, my lord, I mean literally. If she sees Uther when she looks at you, then so will Merlin, and not know the difference."
Arthur wasn't sure that made it any better. "But she was just – a young girl, maybe eighteen. She was terrified to see me – how could she be the source of the spell, what could she possibly gain from it?"
Surely everyone with magic would agree, a sorcerer in King Arthur Pendragon's circle of trusted confidants, was a good thing? What good would come of taking Merlin from Arthur, or persuading Merlin to leave voluntarily? The guilt he felt over how they'd parted, arguing about the dragon's egg, roiled inside him unpleasantly.
"A better question might be, how could she be there, if she wasn't the origin of the enchantment."
"Part of Merlin's imagination?" Leon suggested.
Iseldir shook his head at the knight, but spoke to Arthur. "Possibly if you entered an ordinary dream, or his conscious waking mind. But you entered the enchantment itself. Not even Merlin can imagine someone else there."
Arthur took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, feeling like he should sit down. Or lie down, preferably, and sleep.
They were all watching him. He said, "I have to go back, then."
There really wasn't a point to adding, Don't I. The druids had no solution but, Emrys can free himself. Gaius' friend might have no better solution, and who knew about the dragon. Even if Merlin refused to listen to him as Uther Pendragon rather than the girl, refused to realize that he was trapped in his own mind and nothing he saw or did was actually happening. At least Arthur might be able to learn more about the young sorceress with short curly black hair.
"Not right away," Iseldir said gently. "What you've just done has taken a great deal of strength and energy – and from him, too, though it won't show."
"Tomorrow, Arthur," Gaius said.
Leon looked relieved; Arthur wasn't sure how he felt.
"Don't… uh, don't tell Gwen. Or anyone. The specifics, I mean, about… Merlin seeing my father. Say – the connection was lost before I could explain…" It made him feel ashamed to say; he added, "At least, not until I can try again. We might have… better news, then."
"Yes, sire." Echoed by the other three men.
And Arthur had never hated his title more.
A/N: Sorry no Gwaine. Probably I'll start the next chapter with that…
Also, seowan means "link" in Old English, and Athwinan thas heard means "vanish this hard object", in case you were curious.
After this story, I'm minded to do a modern a/u. I have two options right now with some scenes already written, so I've put up a poll on my profile… anyone who cares to weigh in with their opinion, it would be welcome!