Notes: Long time, no chapter. A shit tune of dialog in this one. The whole thing is just Merlin telling Aramis's story. Bit boring sorry, but iv started writing the action ending so, soon hopefully.
Chapter TextIt didn't feel right to mourn Aramis, or at least not quite yet. There was this sense of attention-seeking when d'Artagnan thought of their lost friend. He hadn't known Aramis for long, and right this second, surrounded by books and a forgotten library in the mist of the busy Paris city. I felt wrong, too early too final. Like his short time in the SIU was over. He couldn't imagine the other two walking out of this like they were before.
He looked over to where Porthos sat not five meters away. The man was lost in his head again, staring at the same page for the last 15 minutes. They were researching or at least meant to be. They needed more weaknesses, all they had was a dagger that Porthos had found in Aramis's bag that 'apparently' would hurt her, but that was all and not enough to risk another one of their lives with.
Damage was plain to see in both Porthos and Athos. Some twisted past that had left them broken but not shattered. But this, this visceral loss might just be the last blow. He couldn't see an end where they won, even if the bitch lay dead before them, things would never be the same.
The lack of a body was like a mirage framed with whatever plan Milady had to offer. But despite the obvious manipulation and taunting, almost flirting with their lives gave d'Artagnan rage rather than misery. They needed fighting power if they wanted to win, not this lethargic fog that seemed to claim both men.
Athos didn't speak. He had become the opposite to Porthos, delving into research, page after page, book after book. Didn't stop to eat, drink, or even follow Porthos when the larger man had begun crying and slipped out the back to properly scream and cry and wish things where different. d'Artagnan hadn't followed to check, didn't feel welcome in Porthos private grief.
d'Artagnan had never seen them so separate. He used to think that Porthos was the glue, holding the vibrant Aramis to the much more mellow Athos. But now…now that one third was missing, it showed how much they needed each other to stay together. Things were falling apart and d'Artagnan wouldn't…couldn't fill in Aramis's spot.
It didn't feel right to mourn like he didn't have a right to. Not when things were falling apart for Athos and Porthos, not when he had only known Aramis briefly. Hadn't had the time to actually 'know' him. He had gotten the preview version, and crying, sobbing, screaming felt reserved for people that knew Aramis in such an innate, ingrained way, rather than just the surface layer. But that berating voice in the back of his head didn't make it hurt any less.
If anything, D'artagnan was mourning the missed opportunity. Knowing there was more to know of the surprisingly mysterious man, and missing out on it. Mourning what could have been, a friendship that could have blossomed.
I wasn't like when his father died, not even that long ago. It wasn't like that. Like something solid and permanent had been taken from him. That was what the others were feeling. But the pain felt real but not rightful, and hope made it burn and sing because there was a chance that Aramis was out there. And a chance he wasn't. d'Artagnan wasn't quite ready to give up just yet.
—
Merlin walked into the old bookstore, obviously lost more in his own head as he ignored Athos calling his name. Porthos lifted his head and watched the old wizard, who currently wore his much younger features. The wizard entered the little room they had calmed, walls of book shelve and privacy was only available because the bookstore was currently empty. Otherwise, secrets would all to easily seep into the surrounding space as the conversation grew from one-word answers to shouting.
" For fuck's sake, Merlin," Athos shouted again. This time though, the wizard stoped his seemingly endless wondering to look up into those piecing blue eyes. " I want… We, want answers,"
" What do you want to know?" Merlin question calmly, as if they actually had something to go on. Which they didn't. Maybe this is why Porthos felt so lost right now, they knew nothing that could actually help them as well as Himself and Athos not being able to actually have a conversation without yelling at each other.
" Anything," Athos yelled back. Athos waited expectantly as Merlin sank into one of the old wooden chairs that surrounded the table that held all they could find on the necromancer.
When it was clear Merlin wasn't going to say anything Porthos could see the anger bubble in Athos. A sort of fury that stemmed from frustration and grief. Athos and Porthos moved simultaneously. Porthos stood as Athos moved forward.
" Say something you bastard," Athos Said As he shook his the much smaller man from his loose clothes. Porthos hand firmly on Athos shoulder, maybe squeezing a little too hard.
"Okay okay. Just give me a minute, I have to start at the beginning," Athos realized him and the wizard fell back on to his own feet. Shrugging of Porthos's hand, Athos went to sit across from Merlin. Setting his cold stare only used during interrogations, at the seemingly younger man. Hardened criminals often broke from that very stare.
" Well it started a very long time ago," Merlin began
" How long?, Don't leave anything out. We've been left in the dark long enough,"
" About 6th century, over 1400 years ago. Aramis had a different name back then. One I'm sure you've all heard before, Lancelot." They all turned at d'Artagnan's gasp. Merlin continued, " The first time I met him, he saved my life. A lot happened but in short, I got him to be one of Arthur's Knights. He fell in love. But it was not to be, Arthur had eyes for the same woman."
" Gwen," d'Artagnan whispered.
" Yes Gwen, but unlike the tale, Lancelot didn't pursue it. And just like every fairytale, there was a bad guy, Morgana. and a veil was opened between the two worlds, living, and spirit, it's like a little pocket dimension for all of the bad dead things in the world. The Dorocha came through. People were dying everywhere. Left icy and still. A blood sacrifice had to be made for it to close. There was little discussion over the matter, there was only Arthur, Lancelot and myself. I wasn't going to let Arthur do it and Lancelot wasn't going to let me do it. I tried to stop him.
He just went for it. Walked straight into a dark abyss, not knowing what was going to happen or what even existed in that place. Ridiculously reckless that man," The smile on Merlin's face was fond one, but lacking a certain happiness to it.
" That doesn't explain anything Merlin," Athos voice was laced with frustration.
"well, if things were left there then it would have been fine. But Morgana had to play her games. She brought him back, not straight away, but she brought him back. The problem was, its a lot easier to bring someone back from the dead than from the veil. And she wanted a puppet to mess with not someone with a conscious who would fight back."
" A shade," Porthos said.
" Exactly. So she dragged Lancelot's soul back to the living, but only half. The other half is still trapped in the veil doing god knows what. We knew she was planning something, just like a few months back. There was a disturbance between the realms, souls going missing. She used this energy to drag half a soul across the plains. You have to understand that this wasn't your friend who did the things I'm about to tell you, he says even now that he only remembers flashes and nothing more. Morgana made him come back to Camelot, everyone welcomed him back. He had an affair with Gwen. Got into Arthur's head, Arthur was furious. Gwen got exiled. Arthur was going to kill him, I tried to talk him down, but id never seen him this mad before. He went after him, I followed, we found him in his room. Morgana had given him one last order, we found him with his wrists slit, dead."
Silence filled the room. Merlin sunk further into his seat, hands ridding at his young face, clearly upset by telling the story.
" I thought I had put his soul to rest after that. It was meant to be done. But years later, hundreds of years later, I felt it. Like a surge of power leading to clarity. He came back, near the lake we had laid him to rest at, Leon and I found him wandering around completely lost. Mind confused and muddled by whatever had brought him back he had very little clue as to what had actually happened. Didn't remember anything clearly past entering the veil all that time ago. Leon and I taught him about the new world, 1620 by the way. He struggled to start with, no more shields or knights, but once he found his feet and got a good look at the new world he ran for it, wanting to get away from before and find himself again."
Merlin smiled sadly, " He hated us calling him Lancelot. kept saying it wasn't right, didn't fit anymore. I think that's why he left in the end. Couldn't bare us looking at him and expecting our old friend when all that was left was a lost man, who was so blinded by his own faults, he didn't know where to start looking for a sense of self again. Traveled across Europe in the end. Picked up the name René d'herblay along the way. I think that helped a lot, picking a new name for the new him, meant he didn't have to pretend to be someone else anymore. He stayed in Spain for the most part, fought where he could and where there was no war to fight, sickness spread, so he fought that instead. Eventually found his way to Paris, caught the eye of the king. He became a musketeer, the king's guard. He seemed very proud when he wrote to tell me. I was happy for him, he had found a home in a place so foreign to him, still, he's always been good with people.
But it wasn't meant to last. Himself and a group of other musketeers took a training mission to savoy in the western Alps, snowed heavily that year. That place was a white wasteland during Easter when the mission took place.
They were attacked in there sleep, massacred. I don't know much, Aramis refuses to talk of it, I do know there was another survivor, that deserted and left him there, I believe that's what most of the nightmare are about. He lived long enough to see the sunrise. But was too lost to the cold to find shelter or aid for the wounds he hadn't escaped from during the battle. Freezing to death would have been one of his more peaceful deaths if he had not been abandoned and surrounded by fallen brothers.
Then he came back again in 2004, just like before, the same powerful presence. This time he came back in the Alps of Savoy. You can imagine how confusing the internet was for him. He didn't stick around long, found the cities too crowded with things that he didn't understand. Joined the army, found comfort in being around familiar routines and unfamiliar faces. And you know the rest.
I don't know why he keeps coming back, I have theories, yes, but nothing concrete." Merlin finished, shame locked his eyes on the floor rather than meeting his audience.
" What kind of theories?" d'Artagnan asked, innocence laced his voice in a kind of boyish youth that Merlin missed having.
" That he's searching. Wherever he goes in-between his time here, on our plain I do not know. But when he is, he is always looking for something even if he doesn't know it. I believe its the other half of his soul is that stopping him from ever moving on. Never being whole has kept him trapped here, I fear for his sanity if he never finds his other half."
Notes: Let me know about big mistakes.
thanks :)
