Chapter 18 – A King's Call
Last time…
"What would you do if Merlin were to leave?"
"What do you mean? He left already," Arthur replied, gesturing towards the woods. "Lancelot and Leon should be bringing him back any day now."
Gwen sighed at the smile that graced Arthur's lips when he thought of Merlin's return.
"I mean, if he were to leave for good."
Arthur's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Why would he do that?" he asked slowly.
"I don't know, because he fell in love with a princess and went after her." She nodded meaningfully at him.
…
"No, it's not possible."
"Arthur?"
"It's not possible," he repeated and the feeling of the world dropping under him subsided a bit. It was as though saying it out loud meant it was true.
"Why can't you believe that Mithian would–"
"It doesn't matter if Mithian would or would not. Merlin would never leave."
…
Merlin ran a tired hand across his eyes. "Nearly all my life, I would've given a thousand kingdoms just to be anyone else."
Elaine shook her head. "At least a thousand kingdoms would fall without you."
"See? How can I walk away from that?"
"You can't because of who you are. Not because you don't have a choice."
…
I was actually thinking you could conjure up a sea god or you know…something along those lines…"
"A sea god?" Merlin gaped.
"Like Poseidon. Or maybe even the sea witch Ursula."
The water rushed up like a whirlwind over the ocean, higher and higher until it began shaping itself. A series of waves became a long mane, flowing down to the surface of the sea while parts of the water high above notched out to form a pair of eyes. A nose began to form from the tumbling water –
"Don't you think he should have a stronger nose?"
Merlin turned to glare at Gwaine. Previously, a break in concentration would cause the magically created Poseidon to collapse in itself but Merlin managed to maintain the shape now as easily as he did with any fire-based spells.
"I don't think the Saxons are going to be looking at his nose."
"They would if it's the most prominent feature on his face."
"It won't be the most prominent feature on his face."
"Why not? What would it be then?"
Merlin frowned. "It's all of him," he said as he gestured at his water creation.
"I think it should be his nose."
Merlin sighed. He tried it out.
"See?" Gwaine hummed behind him.
Merlin nodded. "You're right, Gwaine. Of course you would have a better understanding of this given your nose."
"Oi!" Gwaine shouted behind him but Merlin did not turn this time, focusing on his Poseidon instead. The spell books Mithian had gifted to him have been invaluable. He had tested out several spells before deciding to combine two that were powerful but flexible enough to achieve what he needed and he had spent most of his afternoons building his god just off the shore.
Merlin, satisfied with the look and the prominence of its nose, tried to see how far he could move his creation and how fluid it was while moving. It swayed a bit but the warlock was able to stabilize it by funneling a column of water in the middle.
Merlin tapped his lip as he pondered his next move. A voice in the sound of thunder. Merlin held his water image with one hand and with the other, he called a storm. Purple lightening backlit his god as the sound of the world splitting apart echoed across the bay.
"Unbelievable!" Geraint shouted as he ran towards the edge of the battlements to get a closer look. "This will send the Saxons back to where they belong!"
Merlin grinned. "It will push them back, too." Merlin swept his arm from left to right and his Poseidon transformed into a giant wave that crashed back into the sea.
A round of applause and calls came from below. Merlin leaned over the edge of the battlement to look at his audience. This kind of magic was impossible not to notice so Mithian had called court and alerted the castle and lower town of the forthcoming "demonstrations" intent on discouraging the bandits that had been plaguing them for over a year. Though Merlin had already been exposed to the kingdom's acceptance of magic, he was still floored by the quiet way the court took the news. There were nods and whispers of approval all around, as though they had been waiting for this moment. The Princess had also encouraged the citizens of Nemeth to use any means possible to defend their kingdom against external threats. Her words were deliberately vague but to Merlin, it sounded very close to a stamp of approval of magic.
Mithian would not confirm it afterwards – as open as she was to Merlin, she said in a very royal way that the people were aware of what she meant and that was all that needed to be said. Aneirin, who had taken quite a shining to the man who had saved his prince and who was quickly becoming the kingdom's salvation, had been a bit more forthcoming. He reaffirmed the princess' statement that the people knew what their princess meant but added meaningfully that the people were just as aware that it was not in their favor to openly oppose the dictates of Camelot. Merlin had nodded in understanding but it did not sit well with him to hear how Uther's oppression continued to strangle kingdoms outside of Camelot.
Merlin helped any way he could. Beyond the sea gods he was conjuring in the water, he had reinforced the seawall, enchanted swords, and even spun stronger sails from his hands. He was now a regular figure amongst the court, the lower town and the docks. And with each passing day, more and more people would come and watch some of his more elaborate spells being woven.
When they saw Merlin leaning over the battlement this time, his audience became even louder in their praise of him. Merlin bowed to them in thanks. Unfortunately, he was unable to get up. "Erm, Lancelot?"
"Why do you even choose to use this disguise?" Leon wondered as Lancelot moved over to his friend to help him straighten out.
"You know why," Merlin responded. "We can't have word getting back to Arthur that his wayward manservant has been practicing magic."
"I would just chose to look like…well, me," Gwaine smiled as he inserted himself into the conversation.
"Of course, you would," Merlin muttered as he put a hand on his lower back. For the love of king and queen, it ached.
Lancelot took sympathy on Merlin and took his arm to lead him back to the castle. Merlin had a few hours where he could be normal before heading down to the docks to provide some promised magical assistance to the Nemeth ships.
"You know, you're as grumpy as a grandpa when you're this age," they heard Lancelot say to Merlin as they walked away.
"Oi, don't think I can't put you in your place, young man!" Merlin replied somewhat gleefully.
Gwaine and Leon exchanged looks, remembering a time when an aged Merlin had actually put them in their place.
Geraint looked at them suspiciously. "What?"
"Nothing," they both said at the same time. They smiled as they followed Merlin in. Though they all knew it was the calm before the storm, they would be prepared and they would enjoy this new age while they could.
So the days continued to slip by easily for all of them, like spring turning into summer. The Camelot knights trained with the Nemeth men, discussed strategy and set up attack and escape routes.
Meanwhile, Merlin spent his mornings with Mithian and sometimes Geraint in the library, pouring through spell books, devouring as much magical knowledge as he could, reveling in a birthright that had long been kept from him. While his afternoons as a grumpy eighty-year old sorcerer were not exactly comfortable, he had the freedom of conjuring up gods and practicing new spells and in the evenings, he sat near the hearth with friends and equals. He did not recognize how quickly time was passing. Merlin had not known such ease for so long that the distant memory seemed little more than a dream. Then, a bird flew in one day during breakfast.
Merlin and the knights of Camelot were now used to the various birds flying in and out of the castle. They had learned that when the royal family was not together, they passed messages to each other via birds. King Ector and Prince Ian were still in Camelot and had been providing daily updates of the peace talks. According to their letters, negotiations were going well but the usual suspects were dragging their boot heels on small points. Messages directly from Camelot came slower as an actual messenger had to ride between the kingdoms. Thus, only one message had been received from Arthur and one message sent back to the King – both to the point and informative as was the King's and Leon's style.
But when Mithian opened this missive, she didn't read it to the table as she usually did. Instead, her posture stiffened as she read it, her expression closing off.
"What is it?" Merlin asked, leaning across the table towards her, his hand itching to comfort her.
"It appears that the peace talks have concluded," Mithian replied coolly, setting the letter face down. "Camelot will be providing reinforcements to assist Nemeth. Though, my brother suspects he will call his best men back." She nodded to the Camelot knights but did not look up from the back of the letter. "We should expect a message from Camelot soon."
Without another word, she left the table. Merlin made his own excuses to follow her. They made several turns down various hallways but she didn't acknowledge his presence until they entered an empty, remote hall.
"Merlin," she said when she paused.
When he reached her, she turned around and looked him in the eye. She was not one to back down, even in the face of a personal loss.
"I would ask you to stay but you will go."
Merlin smiled sadly at her. "If Arthur calls, I will have to go."
"No," her voice was soft but firm and seemed to fill the empty hall. "You will choose to go."
Two days later, a messenger arrived from Camelot. Sirs Leon, Gwaine and Lancelot would be replaced with other knights, the exchange to occur at the border between Camelot and Nemeth. In the postscript, the King called for Merlin's return as well.
A/N: Reviews? Btw, next chapter is the chapter that started it all…the first scene that I wrote over a year ago… Any thoughts what it may be?