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Gwen had been pleased with the result of their rather frantic work overnight, though there was certainly a long way to go to create any sort of suitable wardrobe for Merlin's mum, but she hadn't anticipated the addition of anything else. Somehow seeing it not being just Merlin but a visible alteration in those around him made everything unavoidably real. More even than the injuries she was still being treated for. Gaius had told her to expect to be called on later by the Lords and inspected to verify her account. It wasn't something she looked forward to, but it wasn't the first time she'd been called before them, and this time it wasn't to die on a pyre. How scared must Merlin have been, she wondered, when he set himself against that and confessed, or got himself involved in anything that might invite questions. Remaining uninvolved seemed to be a foreign concept to her friend, and if he could do it, then so could she.
Hunith had left to take the first medicine rounds, and Gwen was certain no one would recognise her. Not from her arrival, or her prior visit, and anyone who remembered the young woman she was would assume it was someone different. The older woman had simply smiled at her and winked, confident of the same.
It was why she went to Lord Geoffrey last, completing the first round of deliveries first.
In her hair were elegantly made wolves in twisted gold, two brooches holding the short cloak to her dress in a matched style with red enamel picking out the detail, and she smiled as Geoffrey bowed his head to her, "My Lady."
She chuckled, "Not for a very long time Geoffrey, but still your friend. I believe I owe you a great debt. More than can ever be repaid, but I left something in your care a long time ago, and I think it's about time I got it back." She raised an eyebrow, "Don't you?"
He jerked his head, "Far less than what we owe you. Please come in, I have some wine if you'd like."
Hunith sighed, but agreed, the halls were too public, she'd forgotten how easy it was to be caught gossiping here, the downside of having many places to hide from an enemy was always that they had as many places to spy from.
His chambers were dark after the early morning light of the walkway, "Have you ever thought about using some candles Geoffrey? The light isn't actually evil, and you'll go blind one of these days if you keep up this way."
Geoffrey kept his tone bland as he answered her, "Candles are tools of destruction and terror my dear, only a fool brings fire into a library or archive."
"Geoffrey, these are your chambers." Exasperation coloured her tone now but the old man only shrugged one shoulder.
"Exactly. One candle to keep with my person is more than enough for two eyes to see."
Hunith rolled her eyes, "Well that's just silly, old man. I know my son, and I know that despite warnings, both light and fire will have been played with far too near flammable things. An extra candle won't torch the citadel."
The man frowned slightly, "Yes. I was rather surprised at how comfortable he is around fire, given its recent misuses. I suppose he gets that from his father."
Hunith smothered a chuckle at his dry tone, "I suppose he must. He never liked hunting though, I'm surprised he goes out now with the knights for that. He certainly had the skills, but it was never a thing enjoyed, more of a duty. Fire though seemed to be a comfort to him. I never told him about the time he sleepily made it into a blanket; he was three and I didn't want to encourage him to try it again."
Geoffrey looked horrified and wondered how his friend hadn't died of a heart attack years ago. "Oh my. That is… raising him in exile was definitely the wiser option."
The woman snorted at the understatement, "I'm amazed no one ever did bring us in. A part of me was always waiting for the day, and it seemed strange to miss someone as obvious as he was. Still is really."
Geoffrey nodded, thinking sadly of the marks Merlin was no longer hiding, "It didn't prevent the attack though, did it. Was it a neighbour or…?"
Hunith voice came out more hoarse than she wanted, "You make it sound as though there was only one." She grimaced at the memories as she answered, "Travellers that last time, thankfully means they move on, but that doesn't guarantee they would not return with others if they could."
"Did you deal with it?" Geoffrey looked at her with curiosity instead of judgement.
She bit her lip nervously, "Would you hate me if I had?"
Geoffrey's eyes were full of sorrow as he read the defensiveness in her stance, "Look at us all my Lady Hunith, not one has hands clean of blood. Even the ones who never saw their victims or targets are guilty. How could I judge you for a sin of desperation, if sin it was, if in one way or another I too was guilty? I played the long game seeing who was involved, how far it had spread. I had the opportunity and ability to kill the king often enough and did not. I've wondered often enough whether choosing differently then wouldn't have been better. It would lie easier on my conscience."
Hunith sighed, reaching for his hand, "Who would you have put in his place Geoffrey? Your position would make execution a given, who would have taken his place? Arthur? He was an infant. Nimue? She was consumed with bitterness towards the people who didn't fight him and wanted vengeance, not justice. None of the council were strong enough to lead, Balinor never wanted to and was a mess after the massacre. From what little I gathered, he never recovered. Cenred and Mercia would have torn the kingdom apart. No one but a Seer could have foreseen what would happen, there was no way. We all lost friends and family, you included, I know it's been a burden, but you've been one voice of reason when there were fewer than a handful left. I'm not naive enough to think that he wouldn't have more unstable and spread more viciously over borders without anyone less sycophantic or vicious at the table. I love my brother, Geoffrey, but he loved Uther as much as Alice once, in a way, and was too forgiving of his faults even back then. I'm not blind to his failings." She sighed, "Or to my own. We all failed them. All three of them. If I'd known about Morgana though…" Her voice faltered.
Geoffrey pulled her into a hug, he was rarely demonstrative, but the old man knew all too well the lack of physical comfort, and Hunith had been alone for far too long. "No one knew, no one knew everything, between selfish secrets and fear; even if we had known she was always too much like her father. Once she set her mind to something, no one could turn her away from it… and the young Lady Morgana learned all too well here, that the end justifies the means."
Hunith tried to ignore the ache in her chest, "Perhaps. We'll never know now if it might have been different." She leaned into his warmth, letting him comfort her. It should have been Balinor here with her, standing beside her, offering silent strength, but since he couldn't she would accept what was offered. Her old friend understood too well the isolation. Then she would go back out as Lady Hunith alone. Knowing she had a few supporters was some solace at least, she cleared her throat and dropped her arms.
"Come on. Enough of this sentimentality. Where are my things?"
Stepping back Lord Geoffrey looked his usual self again, "Blow the candle out first, and follow me."
The walk was quiet, both of them caught up in their own thoughts; Hunith kept having to remind herself not to slouch, or keep her eyes downcast, once again rewriting her mannerisms and outward facade to pass as she needed to, out of practice for the role.
Offering no comment as she bit back a curse at correcting herself again, the librarian snorted softly, unlocking the archives and indicating that she should enter first. "One candle, no more." He mock-glared at her and caught the soft smile and quietly amused response "Because fire does not belong in a library and you'll hold me personally responsible for any damage. I know. How brave of you to allow Merlin in here with your precious manuscripts without reaming him on flames and parchment proximity."
"I think that boy has cost me years of my life with his casual attitude to my poor library; for someone who spends so much of his 'free' time doing research and scanning texts you'd think he understood the effort that goes into writing them! Still, he hasn't set my poor library alight- at least to my knowledge, I suppose I ought to be grateful for that."
Hunith chuckled, "Neither did his father, and you never allowed him unsupervised access."
Geoffrey cocked a bushy brow, "It wasn't illegal to notice he was a dragonlord or sorcerer and warn the cocky young man. Plus, unlike Merlin, half the time he wasn't actually looking for books at all but for a very specific reader." He cast a knowing eye over the blushing woman, "You're still as lovely as ever you know, and as stubborn. Don't let the insecure ones at Court get to you later." Locking the door behind them, Lord Geoffrey led her to an obscure part of his archives, chaotic looking to almost any other eye. "No matter how many times they tore up my living chambers in searches, or anyone else's, there was something that held the men back from destroying the archives. Maybe there simply weren't enough literate to understand, maybe there is still respect, the reason doesn't matter. Merlin found some of it's hidden secrets within weeks, with minimal help from his guardian, there was plenty we did not share with one another. Aredian and his kith you know." He didn't need to elaborate on that, and carefully showed her into the hidden room, snorting as he saw the obvious evidence of recent disturbance, and sighing, "I swear the boy has no logical system of organisation, it hurts me to look at it, but if I had fixed it he'd have realised someone knew and heaven knows what might have happened with him avoiding the place or distracted by solving the puzzle of who was interfering. I'd call him paranoid if it wasn't for the fact it was an entirely valid concern and may have kept him alive."
Hunith had to suppress a gasp at what she saw, for different reasons, feeling as though she was disturbing some kind of shrine to the Old Ways. "Don't open anything Lady Hunith, no chests, boxes, or books. These are no ordinary objects, and even I do not know the history of most of them, only that destroying them without understanding is foolish. Especially when one lacks the power to set right a mistake. The ones that I do know were too rare, or precious, or dangerous to keep in an obvious place."
Hunith's lips curved up, retracting hands that had unconsciously reached out, "And mine?"
"Fit the first three descriptions well enough." He worked a stone in the wall loose and removed a carved wooden box, then replacing the brick with a grinding sound, he climbed up on a stool , stretching to reach a carefully folded piece of material that appeared meaningless, handing it to the woman. From it she took a key that lay warm in her palm, a braided cord rather than a chain passed through it like a pendant, pointedly ignoring the question in the old man's eyes.
"Lacks the ability to set them right?" She cocked an eyebrow, unsubtly redirecting his focus.
"Ask your brother about the goblin one day." He chuckled at one of the more minor missteps of their boy-warlock.
Hunith smiled, wondering what she could have told him that might have reduced the risks without also increasing them in different ways, glancing towards the key as she slipped it out of sight. "Is the way to the dragon's cave still guarded Geoffrey?" She asked politely, not expecting the look of shock at the question. "Well no, there is no need to guard it my Lady. The way no longer exists. Emrys locked and sealed it to all."
Looking startled and troubled Hunith felt a heavy weight settle over her. "Oh. I am too late then… He was… Are the gates to the vaults still in use, Lord Geoffrey?"
He watched her cautiously, "They are my Lady, but it is unsafe- very unsafe- to enter unaccompanied. There are enough men who have been lost there."
She snorted derisively, "And rightly so, I should think. Ignorance is not bliss, it is dangerous. I however am not ignorant of everything that lies in wait there, though I still would wish to take a protector. They were made to be used very differently to the way Uther has twisted them." She sighed, "Where is a dragon when you actually want one."
Geoffrey watched her casually speak of things he hadn't dared say in over twenty years and felt an ache in his chest. "Hopefully very far away. Camelot is not a particularly friendly place towards them. However, knowing your son, almost definitely hiding under a bridge or in an abandoned barn stupidly close to the city, just waiting for the chance to berate him in person."
Hunith smiled, shaking her head. "Probably. It would be in his nature. You sound very forgiving of his… attack." She said carefully.
Geoffrey met her eyes steadily, "What Uther did to them was a greater wrong than I can atone for not preventing, but if the Great dragon had truly sought our destruction, this city would no longer be standing. What once protected us from them no longer did so by then. Anything remaining would be a burnt out husk. We are not. He did not concentrate on the areas of densest population, or the food stores, but on the citadel; on the castle itself. He rested during the day, allowing people to treat injuries, instead of continuing relentlessly, and I am old enough to remember seeing them in battle, Lady Hunith. Their capabilities, awareness, and wisdom. Camelot still stands because the great dragon wanted it to be so, even in his wrath. Many men have done worse for far less significant grievances- including the king. I cannot forgive as Prince Arthur has done, but I understand. This war, this campaign of extermination has changed us all. I would wish for someone to remember me not just as I am today, but as I was, before the darkness and pain twisted us all. Emrys and the Prince are all the more remarkable because they were born into the darkness and corruption, and still bring light and truth. Value it very highly. I grabbed at my own chance of redemption, so I can't really deny that to others now, can I? Even if that 'other' can breathe fire and magic."
Hunith looked at him curiously, "Have you ever seen him? Breathe magic I mean."
The archivist looked at her and shook his head, "No; but I believe your son has, on more than one occasion. Judging by his reading material, and rapid speed of healing." Hunith swallowed at the last part, realising full well it implied that while living in Camelot Merlin had sustained major injuries that ought to have either taken a long time to recover from, or caused permanent damage. She'd seen for herself his fast healing, but never in this way. It wasn't something she could ask him about, not yet. Things between them were still fragile, still brittle, even if their situation was improving. Forcing things would only cause him to draw back and close himself off again, so she accepted what was offered and tried to demand no more than was willingly given. It wasn't easy, especially now so much less had to be held back. Except that it still did, until they were both ready.
Smoothing down her dress, checking her jewellery, Hunith held her head high, as a true Lady ought to, and together they left the library, giving no outward sign as to have been doing anything untoward. In her hands was a small book, with an obviously feminine cover to deflect attention and give her a reason for her presence in the library should anyone bother to question it, however unlikely that was. Asking questions in Camelot was dangerous. Especially when they were asked of visiting nobles.
Merlin surreptitiously watched his friend reading the old diary of the woman he had courted with intent to marry; as he failed to keep his mask impassive within the safe walls of his own chambers.
His own reading was no less confronting and uncomfortable, leaving him with as many questions as answers, but at least gave some more structure to the traditional obligations and expectations of a dragonlord. Tasks that would be radically different given that only he and Kilgarrah- and a fragile fae promise- remained. He knew what to do about his father's remains now, even if it was not possible to follow the proper ways, and sincerely hoped he wasn't about to have to literally hunt for his bones. That thought turned even his stomach.
Prince Arthur glared at the journal as though it might change if he was angry enough.
Merlin set aside the text he had almost finished. "What's wrong? You knew she lost him…"
"Not that." Hissed Arthur, "It seems some of our knights have broken their Oath to protect… and the women have been silenced. I have some titles to revoke. Did they really think that I wouldn't care? God, when Morgana would say anything I found a way of enacting consequences, even if Father refused to acknowledge the problem many Lords have with rejection."
Merlin hesitated before sitting down next to him, knowing that Arthur would find the truth distasteful. "Well, Morgana and Gwen are very different people. Is it- I mean it could be possible that Gwen didn't want their suffering on her conscience, as she didn't seek Uther's blood? I'm sure Morgana appreciated the vengeance you served when they wouldn't hand her the sword, but those offences Arthur- they happened in public, Morgana held significant value, and to harm her demeaned you all, even if a complaint had been brought to the king you would have had a defense he'd accept of an insult to your House. Gwen was a servant. I meant it when I said we're invisible, and that means that so are any non-fatal actions against us. Actually, even lethal ones can be. People can be paid off, or their presence inconvenient. You saw what happened with Valiant. Our word isn't enough, it has never been equal to that of your noblemen. Gwen isn't an idiot, she knew what would happen if an accusation was made against a knight or a Lord without an equal witness against him. Standing up and being informed of how little we are worth is humiliating and degrading Arthur, and we get enough of that just by being servants in the first place. I was offered to Bayard on the condition that the poison didn't kill me first, and fired because Uther places no value on a servant's word. By you, even though you would never do so now. She'd have been publicly shamed, like others, and removed from Lady Morgana. To lose her job in the castle would have meant destitution without a man to speak for her, to Gwen and so many others. The risk for so little chance of the removal of a threat rather than an increase of it was too dangerous for most, Arthur. It was never about them believing you wouldn't care about your people being harmed." He squashed the voice that wanted to add they knew their words would be disbelieved, "More that they- we knew how things are structured and that there was little you could actively do, especially against the king. Anyone working in the castle was familiar enough to know how that would end, and angry Pendragons trapped together are never a good thing."
Arthur remained as tense, fury clear in his eyes, "But they went free. Nothing was done, and now it's too late to stop the things they'll have done since, shouldn't that be considered!"
Merlin looked quizzically at him, "Well obviously. It's a nice thought Arthur, but a few years ago she really was just a servant to you. Special only because she mattered to Morgana. Until mere weeks ago I would have seen no justice for this- don't panic, I was willing to risk being discovered to avoid that particular maltreatment- but don't think your noblemen have any qualms about groping men either. It's power they like more than anything. We trade off duties where we can; find the safest ways and try to protect the smallest or most vulnerable, the women and youngsters especially, but it's just a fact Arthur. Not one that can be changed from the ground up without a full rebellion either. This one has to come from you. Unambiguously. You've got that anger, use it. Against the right people this time. I trust you. Gwen trusts you."
Merlin's open expression left Arthur feeling hollow, and bitter towards his younger self. "I don't think I realised how much I had changed in as short a time." He kept his voice tightly controlled and saw his friend cock his head, looking almost amused by his mood.
"You make it sound like that's a bad thing. We're always changing, Arthur, all the time. The seasons, the earth, the people. Nothing is ever stagnant for long. Anything that stops moving stagnates. I am proud of you, of how far you've come, and how much you've grown, but I wasn't ashamed of serving you then either, not when I began to see that you weren't actually as much of a stuck up, arrogant prat as you first appeared. Sure, you made mistakes, and the consequences were severe because of who you are, but you always tried to serve your people to the best of your ability. Over time that ability has simply grown and matured. Are you a spoiled princess too used to getting your own way? Of course you are, but on patrol or campaign you slept on the ground like your men, and never told them to take a risk you weren't willing to take yourself. Even Gwaine serves you willingly, and you know he'd sworn off nobles for life! Hell, when he found out who he'd saved he was pissed."
Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes, "Well, thank you for that ringing endorsement Merlin."
The manservant flashed him a sharp look, "Hey, watchit, I'm not above giving you lasting bad breath if you can't be nice."
"I bet your mother told you that if you couldn't say anything nice, not to say anything at all, didn't she?" retorted th Prince.
Merlin huffed, hiding a smirk, "She tried. It didn't work any better than it did for your nanny. Just as well really or you lot would have eaten me alive when I got here, if I'd survived Will first."
Arthur snapped a denial, "Nope. I don't believe he was ever as bitchy as you."
Merlin glared at him, "Oi, he was my best friend thanks, and he might not have bitched but he taught me to swear… and other shady life-skills." He knew Will had enjoyed being considered by some a 'bad influence', taken almost as much pride in it as Gwaine.
Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him, "You're seriously going to tell me you were not the bad influence in that relationship?"
"... Would you believe me?" Merlin groused.
The prince grimaced, shaking his head, "Nope. Not possible."
"That's what I thought. You haven't finished Gwen's diary, have you Sire. I'll have you know I was goodish before I came to the big city. Practically innocent."
Arthur only shot him a withering look, "You're a damn liar Merlin," He rolled his eyes at the prince because obviously, "And even if that were true, which it isn't, you long since cancelled it out with Gwaine… and may apparently be taking Sir Leon the once-guileless down with you now."
Merlin didn't disagree but wrinkled his nose, "Cynic."
"Hypocrite." Arthur shot back.
Merlin rolled his eyes, "Fine. What do you need to restore hope to the smile on your face dear."
His friend sighed heavily, "Clarity? Someone to tell me what the right thing is. For you never to call me 'dear' again. I suppose I'll have to settle for one out of the three, idiot."
His manservant-warlock huffed. "Cabbage head. Come on, I should try and cram in as much of that cryptic stuff as I can while you go through the less confusing one. At least Gwen doesn't write in riddles and try to encode what she writes. Honest to goddess, I think they were trying to torture the younger generation. It'd be like them if Lachlan and Kilgarrah are anything to go by. They seem to be as closed off as the priestesses, and at least as good at keeping fucking secrets."
Arthur frowned, deliberately not commenting on Merlin begrudging anyone their secrets. "But you can figure it out, right? You always find some sort of weird answer that's supposed to be impossible."
Damn. Merlin sighed, wasn't that just the extra pressure he needed. "Maybe. Unfortunately most of the stuff mentioned here is gone or destroyed, and so are the dragonlords, so that's not particularly helpful."
The prince shrugged, "So are most of the things you're supposed to 'need' for what you've already done."
Merlin glared at him, "It's not supposed to be a competition Clotpole. Some sort of bizarre high-stakes guessing game. It'd actually be brilliant if just once, all of the things and sources were just there, waiting for me, and not in the format of a bloody riddle. That's excluding the bits that I can't translate without the help of a live and cooperative translator. How would you have worked out how to rule at all without any advisors, actual kings, or written and oral histories? I'm magic, not omniscient."
The mere thought of it sent a shiver through the Crown Prince as he tried to, nothing good could have come of trying that. The pair of them fell silent again, pensive and tensed. Arthur took a breath the way Gaius had taught him was 'cleansing', and broke it, speaking evenly.
"Did you know how troubled Morgana was? Guinivere started sleeping in with her for the nightmares- sorry, visions, I thought it had helped, but her diary suggests the opposite, that it got worse."
Merlin fidgeted in place, "I… I mean yeah, I knew she had them and that it was severe. Didn't have the training or the same gifts though." He shrugged helplessly, what was past was done with, "Most witches and warlocks grow into their magic, or as they grow the magic grows with them. Even me. That's actually scary when it happens to you. So yeah, I'd expect someone as strong as her to increase through adolescence, and she was a pretty passionate person at the calmest times. Not sleeping wouldn't have helped her frame of mind, but she rarely reacted calmly. Morgana was proud of her defiance and you know it... I can't prove it but I suspect she hadn't been using any of the tonics consistently either, so it's possible that didn't help after she'd given up on them. Only one in Camelot then who could have helped her was Kilgarrah, and he's a bit obsessive about prophecies so that was never going to happen. If he knew she was Uther's daughter I guess that makes a bit more sense." Merlin shifted uncomfortably, he wasn't used to being the focus of anyone's attention- well, anyone who wasn't Gaius, and the exposed feeling wasn't one he appreciated.
The letters swam in front of his eyes, the words swirling together and he shook his head to try and clear it, cursing when it didn't work. He honestly loved magic, but sometimes it was just the worst. He was right, he told himself, the Dragonlords were cryptic bastards who hoarded information. Maybe Kilgarrah would help him to read the next section, because Merlin had long since learned that the harder something was to find or understand, the more critical it usually was to figure it out, and fast. Fuck.
He got up and did a circuit of the room, running his hand lightly over the walls and round the window frame, stroking another light tendril of magic into the wards and satisfying himself that they were being rebuilt as they ought to be. Staring out at the citadel and beyond the thick walls Merlin reached down to trace over his fresh Druid marks, wincing slightly at the pressure on tender flesh. Glad of the reminder. No, he was not 'just a servant'. This morning the weight was almost unbearable and he could feel the same nerves and adrenaline kick he got before going into battle until a rough, calloused hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Arthur didn't look at him, instead staring out at the same point on the horizon that Merlin was. "Don't be an idiot. You're not alone, and this at least is not your doing. Today is mostly about my father and I. Don't think you're getting out of serving the wine tonight, because lord knows we're going to need it. Come on. Stop sulking like a little girl with pigtails, I thought you were over that."
The warlock muttered something insulting under his breath, but it was ignored. Neither of them had the energy to fight with each other and against everyone else.
"And hey, at least we're not announcing to the world that you are my lover, and there will be no children to follow us, or that I turned into a vampire and no longer see the sun."
Merlin only raised an elegant brow, "Don't even think it; but I suppose there's that, cabbage-head. Though some of them have seen little enough of you lately that it wouldn't be hard to convince them you had become a blood sucking fiend, or moonlight changeling. Goddess, they can be gullible! Not you, not anymore, but most of them."
Arthur hummed, eyes hardening into a scowl. "That or they put on a very good show for us all while father is watching."
Standing beside him Merlin placed a warm hand over the one on his shoulder, "Let's hope for the first one, shall we? If the second is true we'll deal with it when we must."
Arthur shook his head, "No. I'll deal with it if I must. You cannot be the one to reshape the Court of King Arthur. Not openly at least. Still, there are a few last acts left of Prince Arthur that I will need my manservant, and best friend by me for. If he is willing that is." There was no break in Arthur's voice, but Merlin didn't like the flash of insecurity, the one he knew Uther had introduced and fostered to be triggered only by him. The one that his other side could never say No to. He sighed. "Come on then. Let me hide the books and get the dishes, and we'll get the revolution started."
Arthur grunted, "Merlin, the revolution began the moment you strutted into the city and asked how long I'd been training to be a prat. If I'd had any more sense than pride I'd have ignored your idiocy. Clearly someone thought we needed a revolution. We just have to hope that the people of Camelot agree."
Merlin ran a hand through his hair, "They won't right away. It's too big a change. Someone has to go first, take the risk, they'll have to see the difference you promise before they believe it. Not because they don't believe in you Sire, but because our survival instinct tells us to run, to hide. Think of it like trying to tame a deer who has lived their whole lives in your hunting grounds. You can stop hunting there, even have humans go walking only to gather herbs and wildflowers, but the fear won't disappear overnight, and to coax one to befriend you? Well that takes time and perseverance." His lips pulled up into the easy grin he often wore when their chances appeared slim, "Still, that's what you've got me for, and -I can't believe I'm saying it- Gwaine. It's why you have Gwen, who connects you to the people even if they ostracise me, and some will."
Arthur shoved him away without malice, "Please, those ones already ostracise you for your alleged mental problems, and the number of 'accidents' that occur around you. Huh. Maybe some of them do suspect the magic." Arthur looked Merlin over, noting the mismatch of his general stance as though nothing was changed, and the external indicators that Arthur was hyper aware of. "Nah. You really are just that weird. I don't think you've anything to worry about with suspicions. If they had any they've kept their mouths shut this long anyway. Today isn't going to be the day they out you, even if you weren't planning to out yourself as the warlock you are."
Putting everything away and opening the bedchamber doors everything suddenly felt a lot more real, and Merlin could feel his pulse jump in his throat, wondering absently if Uther could hear the way his heart raced. He was certain Kilgarrah could, as a calming presence thrummed in the back of his mind, not enough to distract him, just enough to remind him they weren't alone anymore. Focusing on slowing it and not allowing his childhood training to take over he maintained his usual composed mask and paused just before they reached a servant's passage to the kitchens, "I'll meet you by the cells Sire." He bowed his head respectfully, hoping as he turned that no-one had seen, because Merlin never bowed. Ever.
Arthur tried and failed to suppress a smirk, clearly feeling he'd won some kind of game only he had been playing. "Don't dawdle, I won't be kept waiting by your need to gossip like an old maid today." He signalled agreement as the man split off into what were until recently the station 'appropriate' passageways.
If Arthur had been any more of a girl he would have reached for Merlin's hand for support as the man appeared silently behind him at the steps to the dungeons, but he wasn't, so instead curled his fingers tightly around his word hilt in reflex.
Leon's eyes flicking down towards them in surprise prompted Arthur to relax them. Uther was the one man in Albion who could still intimidate him. The one who knew his vulnerable spots were and could hit them without fail. The man who put them there.
He could sense Merlin at his side as he greeted Leon grimly. Swallowing hard he steeled himself, preparing to approach his father with Magic openly at his side with them both aware of it. Magic. Funny, he'd never really imagined bringing someone like that down to the cells with no intent to imprison them, far less to speak to someone without magic on the other side of the bars. The dragon though had spent a long time trapped underneath the castle and called him Courage, and if ever there was a time he needed it this was it, he visualised drawing on Merlin and Gwaine and set his mask firmly in place.
His first glimpse of his father came as a shock to Arthur. Here was not the proud man he knew, arrogant and self assured; this man was haunted, diminished. He seemed so much smaller than Arthur remembered him being, and the cell smelled foul enough to make him gag in disgust. Whatever had happened between his arrest and Arthur's arrival this morning was not something he wanted to know details of. He knew that his Warlock could be ruthless, but physical torture didn't seem his style. When Uther became aware of his son's presence he straightened up, the anger and revulsion Arthur had expected twisting his hardened features. "You have no idea what you are dealing with you foolish boy." He spat, "the bastard is a monster, an evil worse than any other. He'll destroy you unless you kill him now, and you let him listen to your secrets for years. Control you. Why else would you allow him to be so insolent? He should have been flogged and branded years ago." The seething hatred from the man he had so respected chilled Arthur, shocking him enough that he was ill prepared when the imprisoned king lunged and grabbed a handful of the red cloak through the bars. "Kill him Arthur. If you ever cared for your people, or your family, the sorcerer must die!"
Arthur grabbed Uther's wrist and dug his fingers painfully into the tendon until he released his hold. "No. No Father. Don't you understand? You lost. This war you created? We all lost. It's over for you. Finished. He's no simple sorcerer either, and you know it, because I've seen you respond to a hundred threats, and even when it was Nimue or Morgause you never looked truly scared. You fear him. I don't know what he told you, and honestly father, I don't care, because it doesn't matter anymore, just know I won't be killing the Last dragonlord anytime soon; and neither will you. Just tell me one thing; Why? Why did you do it?" Both understood the Prince meant so much more than raising a hand to a woman he favoured, and Uther met his gaze without flinching as he replied. "Because no one else would do what had to be done. I did what was right."
Arthur shoved him away and stepped back, turning to Sir Leon and Lancelot and wondering at Merlin's rigid self control, "You will be relieved by Sir Percival and Sir Elyan. The prisoner is to be brought before the council for noon. It may be wise for him to consider settling any debts he owes, or making peace with whatever may be waiting on the other side for him." Merlin noted the cold and empty tone of his King's voice and his heart ached for him. Consciously Arthur had known his father felt that way, he'd even believed the same once, but he's never been so vindictive or eager to cause pain. Some deep part of him must have been clinging to the vain hope that the man who he remembered could change, and Merlin's heart broke a little for him knowing that there was nothing anyone could do to ease the desolate feeling when your last hope dies. He was glad that Uther didn't get the reaction he wanted from Arthur after he'd had the night to cool down and prepare to face the goading. Leaving with dignity and composure felt like a victory itself. Escaping the dungeons allowed them to breathe again and Merlin shoved Arthur into the first empty room, pulling him into a manly hug, because they might not unless someone died, or nearly died, but it felt like the same kind of occasion. Arthur accepted it because he couldn't use the usual method of destroying things on the practice field and beating up other knights until later. He could counteract the girly moment by including Merlin in the group he was 'practising' with. Not even on pain of death would Arthur admit that the hug helped at all, because he was Camelot's champion, not some delicate maiden. Like Gwaine. It might be dangerous to think of Merlin that way when he was already angry. Realising that it might actually be for the warlock's sake as much as his own the Prince thumped him awkwardly, hoping it conveyed affection or comfort, prompting instead a raw chuckle. "Gods Arthur, you are utterly terrible at that you know. 'S'like you have no practice at all. Let's go before they can come up with any poetry based rumours. I still have servant-stuff to do, and medicine to make up that mum doesn't have the ah, special skills for."
Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved Merlin roughly out of the room, missing his more familiar scruffy look. It hadn't matched anyone else in the castle, and made him stand out in all the worst ways for his position, he had teased the man for it and his adamant refusal to change, but it was him, a Merlin that Arthur knew, and recognised. Not the whole man, but a part that Arthur missed more than he expected. The manservant- healer had found something practical and simple and stuck happily with what he needed. Perhaps that was exactly the same thing he was doing now as he changed. Arthur glanced at his friend and realised again that he always had a reason for doing things the way he did. The same stubbornness and pride in who he was, the same refusal to change simply to conform to expectations for the convenience of others was exactly what he was seeing in the outward changes of Merlin's appearance and attitude.
Merlin did complete several of his usual tasks, but along the way also found several other tasks, and an excuse to visit Gwen, whose face was even more colourful than the night before, but so calm that he knew she had to be scheming, so didn't offer to kill the king. Even though he wanted to every time he saw the bruising. Instead he explained his need for under shirts or sleeveless tunics, since stealing one from Percival was clearly not an option unless he actually wanted a tent. Merlin may not be the most fashion conscious person, but even he doubted that him wearing something of Percy's would be socially acceptable. Gwen glared at him and muttered something under her breath about idiot boys who gave no warning, and him being lucky he was cute. Nothing pilfered from Morgana last night had the necessary breadth, and without his old tunics there wasn't much in the way of options. Looking at the frustrated woman before him Merlin winced and decided Arthur's displeasure later would be easier to fix. He wouldn't even notice a missing shirt unless Merlin told him, not being in the habit of setting out his own clothes. It didn't take long to find an older, soft one that would protect his still tender chest and return. Gwen grabbed it from him as soon as he crashed through the door of the healing chambers, "Next time tell me where you are going before you disappear", she was already ripping the neat stitches out to remove the sleeves though, and Merlin knew how quickly she could repair almost any garment, her skill was underestimated by most people in the castle. Asking her to do something this simple was almost an insult.
Not wanting to waste precious time while he waited, Merlin set up some things at Gaius' table and brought down a couple of pots to adapt for increased potency. The atmosphere remained tense for the first ten minutes until Gwen broke it. "Did the knights manage to restrain themselves and not kill Uther last night? I was a little concerned about their reactions, Lancelot and Elyan especially."
Her friend smiled, not turning away from the mixture he was heating, "Uh, well he was still alive this morning. Unhappy, but he's not actually physically damaged. Yet." He sighed, turning towards her slowly, "We're going to need you to testify against him. You won't be alone, and there is a lot more he is being held accountable for. He knows who I am now. Not my best thought out action ever, I'll admit." He cursed as he remembered just in time to stir the tonic before it overheated, "He knew my father- well, killed all the others, and Kilgarrah's, it's sort of the same thing anyway. He hurt Arthur though, the man we saw when we've been accused of witchcraft, and 'punished' is the one in the cells. He needs us now. So when he asks I'll speak too." He wished it wasn't too late for Morgana, but she'd chosen vengeance a long time ago.
Gwen pressed her lips together in a thin line, not looking away from her work or slowing down. "Alright. If that's what he needs. Just- will you be there? As a friend." She tried to sound more confident than she felt.
"Of course I will." Merlin glanced over to her, surprised she'd doubt it, "I wouldn't ask you to do it alone, and even if I wasn't there, if I was tied up or something, Lancelot and Percival will be there, and witness for you. I don't count, since too few people know I've been upgraded from just a servant, but still saw him strike Prince Regent Arthur."
Gwen nodded, that was better, at least she wouldn't be alone against a crowd of Uther's sycophants. She smiled as she realised that Merlin hadn't seen Hunith yet, glad that she knew his measurements already, she couldn't have the man contrasting with his mother that way. Nobles were far too judgemental for that.
Finishing the alteration and noticing her friend had poured whatever green tinged thing he was making into small pots to cool she shoved it at Merlin, pointing towards the bed chambers. "Go get dressed properly." She smiled gently, "Then you can show me why you're suddenly taking tips on style from Sir Percival of all people." She raised an eyebrow at him in a way that under different circumstances he'd have considered suggestive. Today he only grinned and winked, "As you wish my lady."
Coming out he felt a stab of apprehension about her reactions to him leaving the ink visible and showing that part of himself, but he needn't have, as Gwen let out a soft gasp and reached out to trace around the outline, careful not to touch the skin itself. Dropping her hand to clasp his she looked up to him and squeezed it gently, "They look right on you Merlin. You'll have to tell me their meanings when we've time… and it's kind of hot on you. I don't think they'd suit me or Gaius so well." She stroked his fingers and released his hand, seeing some of the tension drain from her friend, saddened that she hadn't seen it there before, that it just looked normal.
Merlin cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Um, right, thanks. I'll- There's something I need to try before getting back to Arthur so… Thanks for the shirt."
She tried not to giggle at seeing her old friend tripping over words the way he had sometimes done before she was with Arthur. "Good luck." she called after him as he fled.
Merlin stood just outside the gates of Camelot with a staff in his hand and seeds in his pocket, and took a deep breath trying to remember everything Finian had explained, and analyse what he did when he influenced Time. Ignoring the dramatic winds that he'd seen Morgause use, or the first woman he'd seen try to kill Arthur, he focused on the way the world was connected, finding the place he wanted to be from where he was and concentrating. He felt the magic moving around him and opened his eyes, grinning, it worked, and better than that, he didn't feel dizzy and nauseous from doing it. Queen Mab had told him the plants would only grow in one place, so he had combined the necessary test of his theory with using her first gift. At least this way he could give Arthur one piece of good news and promise him more of the revolting faye drink. Provided it actually grew. Planting anything was simple, but Merlin was relieved the transport trick hadn't completely drained him, it had been a risk, but getting out of Camelot for even a little while was like breathing again. He couldn't afford to get distracted though, there was a Once and very soon in the future King waiting for him. Doing the same thing as before he opened his eyes to see someone looking almost like the man he'd woken up with but very unlike himself. Merlin almost second guessed himself before Gwaine cocked an eyebrow, and smirked, gaze raking over him and lingering on his inked skin. "Hey gorgeous, does the Princess know you left Camelot? 'Cause I don't think he's in the mood to unexpectedly lose us to some evil scheme today."
Merlin rolled his eyes at the man, trying to ignore the outward changes that made him at least appear like a proper nobleman. "Hello Sir Gwaine, how nice to see you too, I had an interesting morning thanks for asking."
Gwaine pulled a rude face at him, "Yeah, yeah. I knew that. Just wanted to be sure you got back safe and didn't get yourself arrested th' moment you got back, seriously, you're getting way to careless if you don't want to be a whole different type of gossip. I saw you on the way over and was trying to catch up, and then you were just gone- which, how do you do that again? Much neater than that whole mini-storm deal I've seen before."
Merlin sighed, rubbing his temples, "Oh my gods Gwaine, shut up! No, he doesn't know, because he didn't need to know, and I didn't want him to worry without cause alright? He's got enough to deal with, but he had to talk to Lord Geoffrey on his own, and think without me being in the room."
Gwaine's expression sobered and he sighed, "Yeah. You went down to see him then?"
Merlin cleared his throat, glancing away, "Yeah. Together. I shouldn't have gone before, it was stupid, but it was better than what some of the others wanted to do… and effective. This morning was between the two of them. Elyan and Percy were taking over, so it's not like he's walking out on his own, but I'd better get my ass back to our clotpole before he has an aneurism. Oh, have you seen my mum at all this morning? I know she's not exactly unprotected but Camelot's not a safe place for her."
Gwaine chuckled quietly, "Aye, I saw her. I don't think you need to worry about her. That woman may have been out of circulation for a while but she knows what she's doing as much as Morgana ever did, maybe more. Percy was absolutely right to be terrified of her."
The warlock of legend snorted, "Everyone with any sense should consider my mother dangerous. Not evil, but a definite force of nature." He grinned at the knight before spinning on his heel and setting off to join Arthur, Gwaine following close behind him. "You look hot like that by the way. I definitely want to see it again when the world isn't falling down around us."
"The afterlife it is then." came the cheery response. "I'll sweet talk your Lady."
Neither of them were feeling any levity as they entered the council chambers to meet their King, and on the other side of the table, the Court archivist, and Court physician. Merlin looked between them and the table, and walked back out swiftly finding the closest servant to request a couple of large wine jugs be brought up, not staying to answer any questions about why he wasn't running the errand.
There was a clear tension between the two old men, but Merlin considered it would have been strange if there wasn't today, and Gwaine had crossed his arms across his chest in a way that rarely boded well. He groaned, missing his sleeves and neckerchief to hide behind, "Fuck. Right." He sighed and leaned over the table, like Arthur was doing on the other side, "Ok, is Gwen ready? We've not misplaced her?" He looked pointedly at Gaius, who kept his response unreasonably calm. "She's ready. Lady Hunith and Master Finian will bring them in at the right time."
Merlin nodded, feeling calmer. "Sirs Lancelot and Percival? They were present, and Lance and Leon were on guard overnight."
Arthur grimaced, "Ready. Not at their freshest, but ready."
The knights really weren't a concern for him; Gaius was. "So do the Councilmen know that Hunith is Gaius' sister?" He turned to Geoffrey while keeping his eyes on his uncle, seeing the slight flinch as Lord Geoffrey innocently waved a hand as though it didn't matter, "Of course they do, a couple are even old enough to recognise her in this setting, stupid enough to have overlooked her the one time she came after the village was attacked, but in here, in clean things? She is a hard woman to forget." Merlin chose not to read anything into that for his own sanity. "Right. Uh, ok then. I'm going to go ahead and assume they don't know who I am unless they've been doing what you did, in which case they're not likely to cause a problem." He looked to the head of the table then, and closed the distance between Emrys and the King, placing a hand solidly on his right shoulder. "Well then, where do I place in this shit show my Lord?"
Arthur turned his head to meet the eyes of Emrys and saw the sincerity behind his amusement, "Where you always are. My right hand, but this time you get a seat, it came with the promotion. You can play the idiot card if you want, but it's a lot less believable now, and wouldn't lend you much credibility, we don't have to explain everything, I can't see that going well outside the Round table, but we do want to discourage the idea that I have poor judgement."
Merlin hummed in agreement, "So what? Half truth? Confirm my family links, and let them argue over it a bit to see where they fall? Maybe later that I've been liaising with the Druids on your behalf. Honestly, as long as you don't announce I'm Emrys, or start listing titles today I'll work with it." He looked at Gwaine, noting the change in adornments, and hairstyle, a ring he'd never seen before, and saw Lord Geoffrey shake his head at them. Noticing the young man's confusion he sighed and gestured between them. "My Lords, if the Council notice nothing on sight when they enter then they are not self absorbed but blind. Merlin, you are wearing armour only a Dragonlord can, showing tattoos that hold specific meaning, and seated at the right hand of Arthur Pendragon, Camelot's Regent. Gwaine here, the bastard of Caerleon, is wearing his seal, decorative braces, and crest, with the correct knots on his sword belt. Even if he's still in Camelot colours- and I'm assuming all the bulkier items and anything less distinctive were traded or left long ago so they couldn't trace you and you could still travel light."
"I could change the colour if you want." Merlin offered, receiving a grimace and head-shake.
"I'm happy wearing his colours," He jerked his head towards Arthur, "And there's no practical gain from the swap. Yours have a purpose, and Kilgarrah might roast you himself if you wanted to go up in scarlet."
Merlin wrinkled his nose, "I'll pass on him giving me fashion advice thanks, he never wears clothes for one thing, but yeah, I can't imagine being comfortable in all the gear you lot wear no matter what colour it was. It's gonna take a while to get used to the cold arms though."
Gwaine rolled his eyes and Arthur, being closer, smacked him as they both stared at him and two voices stated "Gauntlets, idiot." It lessened the tension between them enough for all the men to take seats, Gwaine to the right of Merlin, Lord Geoffrey to Arthur's left, and beside the archivist, Gaius.
The physician was chalk white, knowing he was about to lose the man who had been like a brother to him, and likely the regard of everyone else. If there was anyone else to fill his position he would risk that, but Merlin already had too many jobs, and no one trusted magic enough to allow anyone else with enough knowledge to supervise all treatment. Not that that was actually Gaius' fault, and with Merlin he'd tried again, it was just that Destiny claimed him first. In the years he'd lived in Camelot Merlin had seen Gaius be truly, selflessly brave a scant handful of times, but this was really the first time that they knew there was no hope of a last minute reprieve, or rescue. Merlin resolved privately that if his guardian went through with everything he had agreed to today, he would find Alice if she still lived, and bring her back to him, without the manticore or any other demon related issues.