A/N: Hey all! Another chapter, coming up!
So much happens in this chapter, honestly. I don't want to spoil anything here, but if you are confused, I will have an explanation in the end note. Just know that I, too, was confused when writing it and did my best to make it all make sense.
Thanks for the comments! They really do help me. I don't reply to them, since I have anxiety that makes me feel very awkward when replying to things, but do know it is very much appreciated. :-D
Enjoy!
Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing was right or true. Everything he had ever believed had been turned on its head and he had no idea what to think about it all. Or even feel about it.
All he knew was that his father was alive. Alive. And he was leading this rebellion.
To be fair, Arthur felt, listening to the soft breathing of Merlin (who he had vowed undying loyalty to, oh God), he didn't know that for certain. But…
He felt it. Deep, in his core. It felt right. True. Of course, his father led the rebellion. Of course. Who else would it be?
More than that, though, was that he had renounced all familial loyalty to the man.
Now, don't get him wrong. He wasn't regretting his decision, per se. It was just… well. He had been kind of freaking out and panicked, and had only felt that if he lost Merlin, he'd lose everything. So, he'd done whatever he could to keep the man close. To make him trust him.
It was strange, he felt. Not wearing the ring. He'd worn it for almost ten years, now. Since his thirteenth birthday, his mother gifting it to him with a watery smile. Saying his father would want him to have it. Present tense, he realized now. She never referred to him in the past tense.
Had she known? What his father was doing. Obviously, she knew he was alive, but what of the rest? The rebellion…
No. He couldn't think of that. Even if she had known, how could he blame her for not telling him? His mother had always done what she felt was right. Had always done everything she could to protect him. He could never begrudge her anything.
Anyway. He had renounced the man. Before he'd ever met him. Christ. And he didn't regret it. Couldn't. But…
But he hadn't wanted this. All his life, all of it. He'd longed to meet his father. To know the man his mother loved more than life itself. More than his infidelity, more than the hardships and struggles they faced. He wanted to know the man who had inspired such loyalty. Had wanted to see if the man would feel proud of him.
What would his father think of him now? In love (so desperately in love) with the son of the man he despised?
Ah. But that wasn't a helpful thought either.
Arthur sighed, looking down at the man in his arms.
It had hurt, he admitted to himself privately. To see the look of betrayal on Merlin's face. Especially when he had had no idea what it was that he had supposedly done. Part of him had worried that Merlin had found out about his heritage on his own, but the truth had been almost worse. That Merlin would suspect him of such a thing…
What was even worse was that he didn't blame the man. Had things been different… if he weren't so sure of his feelings, now, having come to terms with them three weeks before… if he hadn't accepted his destiny and knew that he was bound to the prince… perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps he would have sought out his father.
But he could never do that now. He'd meant what he'd said; Merlin was the future of Albion. And him, though his part in the whole thing was still unclear. Yes, he was the Once and Future King. But how that came about, or when, was unknown.
Maybe, he thought with a smirk, arms tightening slightly around the man he adored, his initial assessment that he'd, at first, denied out of hand would be true.
Maybe he and Merlin could rule as dual kings.
Ah. It was a nice thought.
He hadn't meant to tell Merlin he loved him. Honest, he hadn't. In his defense, though, Merlin had started it. So…
Gah. His head was hurting. It kept going back and forth. Everything was too much. He had no idea what to think of, well. Anything.
Merlin was currently asleep. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew it was very late. Well past midnight. He'd managed to convince Merlin to sleep, saying nothing as he changed into the sleep clothes he now kept here (hidden, not that anyone but him and Merlin entered the room these days, but it was better safe than sorry) and getting into bed. He'd allowed no ambiguity in his actions.
Merlin had fallen asleep rather quickly. The poor prince was dead tired, he knew. He would have followed him into the dark, but… well. His mind was racing.
He was going to meet his father. After nearly twenty-three years of yearning and waiting. He…
And that was the problem. He was going to meet his father. But they were on the opposite sides of this rebellion. Arthur understood the rebels. He did. But he also knew that a war wasn't the way to go about it. But how could he tell his father that Merlin was his destiny? That Merlin was their hope? Would his father even listen if he tried to say it?
He wished he knew what to do. That he had someone to talk to, who knew what was going on and had definitive answers to help. Gaius was his first thought, but the man would be guessing as much as Arthur. He didn't know anything for sure.
In fact. There was only one person who might possibly know how to help him.
Rather, one creature that was.
His stomach roiled. He didn't want to go down there. It had been months since he had last gone, the dragon refusing to tell him anything about the rebellion at the moment.
"When you are ready, young Pendragon, then come to me. I will tell you only then."
It had frustrated him at the time, Arthur yelling after the retreating dragon that how would he know when he was ready? Well. He knew now.
He didn't want to go. He disliked the dragon. There was something so off putting about him. An air of something artificial. Something false. He never said what he meant. It was always a riddle.
And yet. If he wanted to know what to do, how to go about this… to know for sure if it was his father or not (and the damn dragon knew, Arthur was certain he knew), then he'd have to do it.
It meant leaving the warmth of Merlin's bed. If the man woke and saw he was gone... he'd doubt him again. And he'd just gotten his trust again.
There was nothing for it, sadly. They were riding out at dawn, as they had stated in their letter, and should arrive mid-morning, as Willowsvale was a couple hours ride away on a horse. He'd have no other time to visit the overgrown lizard.
It still felt unbearably hard to remove himself from the warm blankets. One thing he'd learned over the last three weeks was that Merlin's bed was like a cloud. Groaning, softly so as to not wake the sleeping man, Arthur stood, listening as Merlin whined in discontentment, before settling and curling in on himself, forehead scrunched in upset. Arthur couldn't help the instinct to reach out and smooth the wrinkle. Merlin soothed at his touch, sighing with contentment.
God. He had to leave now or else he'd never go.
He did make sure to write out a note, saying he was getting some things prepared for their ride in the morning. They had briefly discussed if he should bring his weapons and armor or not. Arthur had eventually won the argument and would be bringing the blades and chainmail he had brought from home. He'd also convinced Merlin to bring the ruby knife he'd been given for his birthday, a year-and-a-half prior. If magic didn't work, he'd reasoned, one must use conventional means. Merlin had just shrugged, eyes dim, giving up way too easily. It concerned him, but he didn't mention it.
Letter written, Arthur set about creeping to his room to grab the key Gaius had given him all those years ago. Security was ramped up, Arthur medallion working hard to counter the detection spells placed on the castle, but he was able to make it to his room alright. He sneaked passed Gaius, who was sleeping restlessly on his meager bed. Arthur felt bad for the man, as he'd been busy all day as a Court member, but he didn't have time to worry.
Before he knew it, he was at the, unfortunately, familiar ancient door. Arthur used his key and entered the dark stairway. He grabbed the touch that laid on the ground and lit it on a nearby torch. Then he entered the inky blackness below.
"You know, I was wondering if you'd forgotten me, Arthur. Though perhaps that would be the best for me. Your counterpart would not have been as easy to handle as you, I know that much."
Arthur scowled, eyes hard on the giant beast before him. Even after all this time, he felt the familiar jolt of fear pass through him when he first laid eyes on the Great Dragon. He was used to ignoring it, by then.
"I've come for help," Arthur shouted, heart racing for some reason. He knew he needed to know. It still scared him. After all, part of him was hoping he was wrong. That his father wasn't actually involved. That he wouldn't have to face the man. It was a small part, but it was stubborn.
"Oh, have you? Well, how unexpected," the Dragon intoned. If dragons could roll their eyes, Arthur was sure the beast would have. "What is it you want to know, Pendragon?"
Arthur licked his lips. He had to ask. Had to.
Knowing that didn't make it easier.
"I wanted to know who the leader of the rebellion is. How to defeat them."
The words hung in the air for a minute before the Dragon began to laugh. Long and hard. Damn him. This is why he hated the beast.
"Oh, Arthur. And here I was, thinking you weren't an idiot, like your counterpart. Why ask obvious questions that you already know the answer to, after all? Hmm," the Dragon mused, eyes amused. Arthur felt his heart stutter. Oh. God. "I cannot help you with that, little king. Though... there are other ways I can help you. Other than advice. If you so desire."
Other ways? What did he mean?
Cautious, Arthur spoke.
"How so? What else can you do to help me? Help Albion? You're trapped here. What else can you possibly offer other than advice?"
He hadn't meant to sound rude or cruel. Truly, he hadn't. But the way Kilgharrah roared made him realize how callous the words sounded. Wincing, he waited for the Dragon to calm.
"I can offer a great deal, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah growled, some steam escaping from his nostrils. Eugh. He watched at the Dragon calmed down, shaking his head slightly. "But you are right. I am no good to you trapped down here. That is why I ask that you free me. You will need that counterpart of yours to do it. Only he will have the power to free me of my bonds. Free me, and you just may win your war. Refuse, and you will undoubtedly lose."
Arthur felt his eyes widen, before narrowing.
"Is that a threat?" He hissed, low. Honestly, he had expected something like this. Part of him understood. He figured being trapped in a small cave for twenty odd years when you were a giant flying lizard wasn't the most comfortable. But he also hated to be threatened. And he trusted the Dragon about as far as he could throw him. There had just always seemed something off about the beast. Shifty. Like he wasn't helping out of the goodness of his heart but because he had a hidden motive. Suppose he had found the motive.
If dragons could shrug, he was sure the Dragon would have. As it was, he inclined his head a bit.
"It's not a threat, little king. It's a promise. You will need me if you want any hope of reaching your destiny. You have some time to make your choice. But not long. Tarry too long and your choice will be made for you."
What? What did that mean? Arthur opened his mouth to asked but decided against it. It wasn't important. Besides. Like hell would the Dragon give him a straight answer. He was sure the beast would shrivel and die if he gave a straight answer instead of the cryptic bullshit he was known for.
"You know what? Fine. Let's say I believe you. How, pray tell, am I going to get Merlin down here? I thought you told me I wasn't supposed to tell him about our shared destiny?"
The Dragon hummed, doing his strange approximation of a shrug once more.
"I believe I said he wasn't to learn of his destiny too soon. Back when he was completely under the thumb of his father, he'd never have dreamt of going against him. Now, however, it is not his father who receives his undying loyalty, but you, little king. It may still be too soon, but he would not reject his part in destiny out of hand. Not now that you two share an undying bond."
At Arthur's bewildered look (undying bond? Hadn't they already shared one of those?) the Dragon laughed, long and hard. Bastard. Maybe he wouldn't even bother freeing the thing. Let Albion perish, if only to free him of the beast.
"You didn't even realize, did you? Magic is power, Arthur. You do not make a vow to a magic user if you do not want their magic to bind you to your word. I can see his magic inside you, stronger now than ever before. You two are bound more than just by Fate now. His magic has created a bond of loyalty and trust between you. Possibly even love, if such a thing truly exists. You are as bound to one another as I am to a Dragonlord, regretfully. More so, in fact. When one requests a favor, the other will feel compelled to fulfill it. Not because you have no will of your own, but because it would give you the greatest pleasure to please the other. You can still deny it, but to do so would be like denying a part of yourselves. Have you never wondered why the little prince would sometimes follow your orders without thought? Or why you would follow his? It was your bond at work. Now, since his magic has accepted and strengthened the bond, you will be more attuned to one another's needs and will feel more pressure to fulfill the other's desires. And you will feel more relief, perhaps even pleasure, when you are able to."
Okay. Hang on here. Arthur closed his mouth, which had fallen open unbidden, before opening it again, then closing it. Hold up. Was he stupid or something? Because he had always assumed the bond was more… ceremonial. Oh, yes, he felt it! But he hadn't realized it actually could, you know. Change him. Make him do things against his will. And yes, he followed Merlin's orders, but that was because Merlin was his master! He was supposed to follow orders. When had Merlin done what he said, at all, whatsoever?
Well… huh. Wait a second. A memory popped up in Arthur's mind. It was so old now he'd nearly forgotten it entirely. It had happened so fast and so long ago it had just… never seemed important.
When Merlin had been fighting that bastard, Valiant. He'd been two seconds away from being stabbed to death. Then Arthur had shouted, loud and clear, "MERLIN! STEP BACK!" He had no idea why he'd said it, just felt like he had to. But then, to his utter shock, Merlin listened and was able to step back enough to not get stabbed to death. Huh…
Part of him had always figured that it had been a result of their bond. That he'd magically been able to figure out how to save his counterpart and Merlin had happened to be responsive. But he supposed he never gave much thought as to why or how. More questions rose in him, and while he didn't want the creature to laugh at him, he figured Kilgharrah was his best bet at getting them answered.
"Wait," he finally managed to get out, holding up a hand. The Dragon just blinked at him. He'd probably raise an eyebrow if he could. Bastard. "So, does this mean… are Merlin and I... like, married now?"
Arthur was about to go on and ask about free will but was interrupted when Kilgharrah began to laugh hard. Fucker.
"Oi! Stop laughing, I have another question, you lizardy bastard!" He bellowed. Luckily, the beast listened, though he was still far too amused for his liking. He was running out of poignant insults for the creature. Damn. "You mentioned free will. Do we still have it if we feel compelled to follow the other's orders? Or are we slaves to this, this bond we've created? How does it work?"
The Dragon inclined his head again, a puff of smoke exhaled from his somehow animate lips. It seemed like it should be impossible for a lizard creature to talk and move its lips. He supposed it was magic that did it. Otherwise… well. Best not to wonder. Dragon anatomy was too much for him, thanks.
"Your bond goes deeper than that of the union you humans call marriage. There are more kinds of loyalty than just the kind between spouses, Arthur. More kinds of love, too. You humans are too limited in your scope for loyalty and love, in my eyes. Those who bind through law may also bind their magic together, if they have such, but it only is as powerful and as deep as the magic they wield. The more magic, the deeper the bond. Similarly, the more they are loyal to one another, the more the magic will have liberty to bind. Merlin is the most powerful warlock of all time. And while you are not able to wield magic, you were born of it, your birth foretold for millennia, making yourself sensitive to magic's power. And I don't think anyone could deny the undying loyalty you both share for the other.
"When you made your vows, whatever they were, you bound yourselves together, and with the breadth of your loyalty combined with the depth of Merlin's power and your destiny, the bond you share will be deeper than any other in existence. There is nothing to compare it to, as it is uniquely its own. It does not mean you are bound in love if you do not desire it to. But it could be if you desire to bring love into it."
Okay. Wait up. Hold on. What?
Arthur stared at the Dragon in bewilderment. How? What? Huh? Who? Why? What?
Kilgharrah laughed again, before shaking his head.
"Perhaps you should ask the little prince for more information. I have nothing else to tell you in that regard. You are bound, forever now. To unbind yourself would be like tearing off a limb. Or ripping out your heart. Before it would have been like cutting off a finger; annoying, yes, and very painful, but easily done and, while it would be missed, it wouldn't be vitally important. Now, to deny it would cost far greater. It was your choice, however. Magic cannot bind that which is unwilling.
"Now, to answer your question about free will, it is still your own. You can wield it as you like. But you are no longer alone in your decisions. Merlin is there, for you to consider. Your will is not just your own now. You cannot make individual decisions any longer; rather, you must decide together, united, if you wish to make strong choices. Neither one without the other. Stronger united than alone. Two sides of the same coin."
Okay. What? He no longer had his own will, is that what he was hearing? He hadn't agreed to that! All his life, he had taken pride in his freedom. His power to choose. He never wanted to give that away! Not even for Merlin.
"I never agreed to that!" He shouted, like if he yelled loud enough, he could make the gods hear his anger and rescind their decision. Kilgharrah snorted, smirking, as he shook his head.
"I think you'll find that you did, Arthur. As I said, magic cannot bind that which is unwilling. Yes, your bond could be abused later on. The bond I shared with Balinor was irreparably damaged at his betrayal, though I cannot remove it any more than you can remove yours, though its power has waned. That is why it is imperative to know who you are binding yourself to before creating a bond. You and Merlin, however, were always made for each other. You were created to work in tandem, to be stronger together. This bond does not weaken you or take anything away. It just strengthens that which was already there from your birth. You humans take such pride in your individuality. I have no idea why. We dragons are united together and that makes us stronger. To live alone, cut off from your kin, from others who share your loyalty and your bond… well. You cannot imagine the great pain that inspires."
Hm. Arthur had a feeling the Dragon was not talking about some hypothetical event. He wasn't the best with emotions, but even he could see the deep pain in the beast's eyes at the words. The unending loneliness. He could almost feel it, inside himself. The thought of being apart from Merlin… he shuddered. No, he couldn't imagine how deep that pain would lie. He didn't want to.
Alright. Fine. Part of him was still angry, was still afraid of what he had unknowingly signed up for. But then… had it been unknowing? After all, he had done his acts on something deep within him. Something that had pulled him forward, urging him to vow his loyalty to Merlin. That brought up another issue. If he was being pulled from inside him, without him consciously knowing it, was he truly in charge? Or was he a slave to his bond? To Merlin?
And did it matter if he was? Like Kilgharrah said. His bond made him stronger. He and Merlin had been born for one another. Was it truly just him that he had to worry about, or was Merlin there too? Had Merlin always been there? He'd known he and Merlin were two sides of the same coin for ages now. He'd just never truly appreciated what that meant. Maybe their two souls were connected. Or maybe they were one soul, split between two bodies. Who honestly knew? Did it matter? Did it change anything?
He couldn't just think of himself now. Merlin was there, inside him. Depending on him. Part of him was afraid that this bond would be abused. That he'd lost all sense of self and individuality. But… no. He trusted Merlin. Merlin wouldn't abuse this bond between them. And he wouldn't dare abuse the bond either. He'd never force Merlin to do anything he didn't want to do. He'd use it to keep Merlin safe and healthy, and that was it. Like he done with Valiant, or the numerous times he'd told Merlin to sleep and the prince had followed without thought. Harmless things that did more good than bad. He'd have to talk to Merlin about it, eventually. Come up with terms and draw up things that they could or couldn't force the other to do. It would be a mutual union. Not one sided.
Gah. But that would have to wait. They had bigger fish to fry at the moment. When this was all over. When they had won (and they had to win. It was his destiny. He'd make it happen), they could go over their terms. Make their union complete. For now, he'd push it aside. Be careful to not force Merlin into anything he didn't want. He had a feeling Merlin knew about how bonds worked, as it would make no sense for such a powerful man to not know how he might accidentally bind himself to another. He trusted Merlin wouldn't abuse the power.
Alright. So, what had he learned so far? His father was the leader of the rebellion (and that had been hard to hear, even though he had been forced to push it aside for the rest of it. But it wasn't important. He'd already known, after all). He and Merlin were bound. It was deeper than marriage, though didn't need to have love if they didn't want it (but who was he kidding, he desperately wanted it). And Kilgharrah wanted him to ask Merlin to free him, if they wanted any chance of winning the upcoming war. Oh, yeah. And there was, indeed, an upcoming war.
Part of him didn't want the last point to be true. He was hoping, maybe naively, that talking to his father would fix everything. That his father would listen to him. But… who was he kidding? If he were in his father's shoes, he'd never back down. If his father was even half as stubborn and prideful as he, himself, was? He'd never back down.
So, it was war. He'd still try and persuade his father. Maybe it wouldn't work now, but perhaps it could plant the seeds of doubt in his father's mind. A good strategist always planned several moves ahead, after all. He'd need to find a way to try and convince his father that Merlin was their one chance, not rebellion. Also, that he was not being enchanted (as the man would likely think that, since he'd think that if he were in his shoes). It was a lot. Especially in the few hours before meeting his father.
He had no time to waste, then. He nodded tensely to the Dragon and turned to leave. He'd say goodbye but seeing as how the Dragon often left without a single word, he felt justified in his rudeness.
Of course, Kilgharrah wouldn't let him leave dramatically. Only the beast could do that, he supposed.
"Arthur! One last thing. Be careful with whom you place your trust. There is a traitor in your midst, and they plot your downfall even as we speak. Take care with your loyalties to those besides Merlin. Trust is a fragile and fickle thing. You'll find it often is misplaced."
With that, the Dragon flew off, leaving Arthur to spin around and stare after him in shock.
"Oh, fuck off! You can't just say things like that and then leave! You bastard!"
It may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn he heard laughter echoing in the vast cave. Oh yeah. Definitely a bastard.
It took him half an hour to return his key to his room and make his way back up to Merlin's rooms. His head was spinning and his heart racing. He'd almost been caught a couple times, too distracted to pay full attention to his surroundings. Luckily, he made it back without rising alarm, despite the worry he felt. After all, who was the traitor?
He had no idea. Kilgharrah said it was someone he currently trusted, but those people were few and far between. He didn't trust easily, nor readily. Not fully. Even among his friends, there were only a couple he had the utmost trust in. Gwaine was one, despite everything. Gwen another. He supposed he trusted Lancelot, despite his annoyance at the man. He was a noble sort and didn't seem the kind to betray anyone. Leon, maybe Percy. The rest were iffy, though he trusted them enough.
He trusted his mother, and he didn't even think about the possibility of her betraying him. He didn't know for certain, but he believed that she'd follow him over his father. They'd shared so much in the past that he couldn't imagine her betraying him, not even for her former husband. He hoped.
Then there were the people in his immediate circle. The ones he interacted with daily.
Gaius, of course. But he'd never betray him, or Merlin. He was positive of that. Gaius didn't have a deceptive bone in his body. If Gaius were deceiving them, then let them fall. If even someone like Gaius couldn't believe in their future, their future deserved to die. It's possible the man would betray them against his will, but even that he doubted. Gaius was powerful enough to fight magic controlling him, and he'd find a way to secretly inform him if he were being blackmailed. He was sure of it.
That left Freya and his sister, he supposed. But while Morgana and he had never been the closest, more rivals than anything, they shared a deep love. He trusted her with everything he had in him. And Freya was kind and sweet. She adored Merlin. She wouldn't betray them, would she?
He didn't know. He'd never spent enough time around the Lady to know her true nature. Of all of them, she was the one he trusted least. He'd keep an eye on her, then, he supposed.
Other than that, he didn't trust anyone, really. His friends weren't really in the position to betray him in such a way. He'd not been close to them since he'd left home those years ago. They could be working with the rebels, but he wouldn't blame them. It wouldn't be that big of a betrayal.
So, as he entered Merlin's rooms and padded silently over to the bed, removing the jacket he'd placed over his night clothes, he wasn't sure what to make of the Dragon's parting warning. Who was currently working against them? Merlin had mentioned a traitor, in the castle, fearing it was him. Was that the same person that Kilgharrah warned against? Hm.
He didn't have any time to worry any longer, as he noticed dark blue eyes peering at him from over the top of the covers, the rest of his face hidden. His heart began to pound, afraid that Merlin would doubt him, lose trust in him.
"Merlin! It's not, I wasn't, this isn't-" he started, voice panicked. He heard a snort of laughter come from the covers, the rest of Merlin's face popping out a second later. His hair was all mused and his eyes were bleary from sleep. He hadn't been awake too long. That was good.
"It's fine, Arthur. I read your letter. I trust you."
The prince held out the piece of paper, Arthur taking it absently. Oh, good.
"Were you able to do what you needed?" The prince mumbled, settling back down, and closing his eyes. He looked adorable like that, all scruffy and cute. Smiling despite himself, Arthur entered the bed, heart singing when Merlin immediately moved into his arms. He'd been afraid this would have been awkward, after their earlier misunderstanding. But no. It was just as perfect as always. Better, in fact since the bond he now couldn't ignore was warm in his chest.
He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Merlin's, just because he could. Merlin moaned softly in return, kissing sweetly back. Mmm. This was good. Nice. Easy. They still had no name for what it was they were to each other, made infinitely more complicated due to the bond they'd unknowingly (or knowingly, who knew) deepened, but it was nice. Good. It didn't need a name. What good did a label do for them? It would complicate things. He was fine with this unspoken thing between them. He trusted Merlin enough to not fear that the prince would take advantage of him or hurt him on purpose. And he knew himself enough to know he'd rather die before hurting Merlin. So, it was fine. As long as Merlin was okay with leaving this unspoken, so was he.
It was so nice to kiss him, though. Soft and sweet, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He'd kissed girls before, Gwen a handful of times, but this was so different. It made his heart sing.
Eventually the kiss broke, Merlin yawning adorably. His nose scrunched up and his eyes closed, blinking back open a few times when the yawn finished. Laughing softly, Arthur kissed the man's nose gently, laughing again at the indignation on the man's face. The look faded into tender adoration, making his heart stutter. Merlin shuffled closer and laid his head over Arthur's heart. So intimate it made him want to cry. But he wouldn't. Because he was an adult, thanks.
"You didn't answer my question," Merlin's sleepy voice mentioned, a moment later. What question? Arthur had honestly forgotten in the euphoria of kissing Merlin so sweetly. Something about... oh. Right.
"Yeah, I did. I mean, I was able to do what I needed. Didn't get the answers I expected, but I learned all I needed to know. I'll tell you in the morning, though. We have a busy day ahead of us and we both need to sleep. So sleep, my love. I'll be here when you wake."
Merlin hummed, burrowing deeper. Arthur smiles and closed his eyes. He knew he should sleep, but he'd never felt less tired. His mind was racing through thoughts, trying to work out how to convince his father (his father!) how to give up the rebellion he'd been planning for over twenty years. Before he could settle in for a sleepless night, he heard Merlin speak, voice impossibly sleepy but still strong.
"Okay, Arthur. But you should sleep, too. You need rest. Sleep, it's okay."
And then, like magic, Arthur felt his eyes begin to droop, his racing mind calming as Merlin's words soothed him. Huh. Neat. He wasn't sure if he should be offended that his mind gave up the chase so easily, but he supposed it was for the best. He'd have never gotten to sleep otherwise. It was interesting to realize how Merlin's words had effect on him. He'd taken it for granted before, but he realized it was the bond, now.
Still. It was nice, being able to close his eyes and not have to worry about everything. Trusting in Merlin, utterly and completely. His heart full to burst as he heard the soft snores fill the air, Merlin falling back to sleep quickly. Arthur pressed a tender kiss to the top of Merlin's head, settling into bed, sleep overcoming them.
The next day would be challenging. For all of them.
He hoped he had what it took.
~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~
Arthur couldn't help the way his heart sped up as he and Merlin approached the town of Willowsvale. There were army encampments all around, a general and some other high-ranking officers approaching them with hesitation and confusion.
"My prince! What are you doing here? We received no notice from your father that you were coming. We're currently preparing for battle."
He had asked Merlin if they should send a notice to the army before they arrived, to ensure they didn't attack before they had a chance to speak to the rebels, but Merlin had shaken his head. He didn't want news getting back to his father about their plan before it began. Worst case scenario, he'd exercise his right as crown prince to cease any battles that took place. And if the leader were indeed Arthur's father, he hoped the man would cease fighting on his side long enough to talk with them.
Luckily, no battle had broken out. It had taken them an hour and a half to arrive at Willowsvale, leaving just before dawn, their horses running at a steady gallop interspersed with some fast-paced trots. They had made good time, the sun not even high in the sky as they pulled to a stop after the encampment.
Merlin dismounted his horse, Arthur following suit a moment later. He'd briefly considered asking Merlin to stay behind, to protect him, but he knew the prince would never be able to let Arthur go while he stayed safe. Arthur understood. He felt much the same.
"There's been a change of plan. My father has sent me to speak with the leader of the rebellion. We want to find out more information before we attack. See if I can figure out what artifact they are using. Here, a letter from him," Merlin stated, holding out the official looking letter he'd forged earlier. His magic was so powerful that he'd been able to duplicate an old official letter his father had sent him, the seal and signature identical, while exchanging the words written to fit their needs. Arthur was beyond impressed. He'd been unable to tell the difference when Merlin had held them up that morning, grin wide and pleased.
Neither could the general, it seemed, as the man nodded his head, frowning, but seeming to accept the prince's words. After all, why would he suspect the prince of lying?
"Very well, your royal highness. Give me a few minutes to round up a few men to act as guard."
Merlin shook his head, a touch frantic. Arthur hoped the general didn't notice.
"No, that won't be necessary. We don't know what forces they have at their disposal. My father has a deal that only me and my servant can enter the town. Arthur has a blade concealed on him, which he has been given permission to use should we be attacked. It is not ideal, but if magic is indeed useless, then we may have to concede to using conventional means."
Arthur was surprised. Merlin's argument actually sounded logical. Of course, the king would never be willing to bend his own laws for anything, but it was a logical argument to make. Desperate times, and all.
The general didn't seem entirely convinced, staring at Arthur through squinted eyes. Arthur stared calmly back, eyes on the man's chin, knowing a servant couldn't look a high ranking official in the eye. Arthur had seen this general around the castle, having delivered a few potions to him. He seemed a good enough sort, though dismissive of servants and non-magical people. Finally, though, the man nodded his consent.
"Alright. Very well. Be careful, my prince. We have the town contained, but we have no idea what they have up their sleeves. We noticed that they hadn't attacked at midnight, but I assume that must be because of your deal. We will keep careful watch outside the town. Send up a spark of magic if you need assistance."
Merlin nodded, tightly. He grabbed the reigns of his horse and led her to the makeshift stables, informing the stable hand to watch over her with his life. The boy, maybe eighteen, had nodded frantically with wide eyes. Arthur brought his horse over and nodded solemnly. Then the pair approached the entrance of the town, hearts pounding.
Every step felt like a mile, Arthur mused, shaking slightly. He'd tried to come up with a plan, words to tell his father when they arrived. But everything was drifting from his mind like smoke as he grew closer and closer to his destination. Merlin was stiff beside him, eyes darting around to pick up any hint of a trap.
They finally reached the town entrance, nothing stopping their approach. The town seemed simple enough; larger than Fayford, but much smaller than Camelot. Likely a couple thousand people lived here, with more who traveled through every day. It was a major town on the way to Camelot, right beside a river. It was, honestly, the best town that the rebels could have taken over. It was central, powerful, and mostly magical.
They saw no one as they entered the town, though. It was like it was a ghost town. Like everyone had abruptly up and left. It was eerie, he noted, shuddering with unease. Like Fayford had felt, after all the villagers had been evacuated and only he and his friends remained, planting bombs to fight off the enemy sorcerers.
Arthur could feel Merlin's magic swirling around him, the energy pulsing as it tried to feel for any danger. Clearly, whatever artifact they had either wasn't currently being used, or it didn't stop magic from occurring. It just prevented it from affecting them, he supposed, if the artifact was real at all and wasn't just a bluff. He felt it would be a pretty easy bluff to call, though.
It wasn't until they reached the town square that they saw anyone. For one heart stopping moment, Arthur thought it was his father. That faded when he realized it was a young man before them, no older than they were.
"State your business," the man barked, clad in full armor, a sword at his side. It hadn't been unsheathed, but Arthur could see the man's hand itching to grab it. Arthur felt similarly, his hand itching to grab his sword from his side. He currently was wearing the chainmail he'd brought from home, all those years ago. Around his neck hung both his medallion and his father's signet ring.
He'd honestly been very confused when Merlin had handed the thing to him that morning, informing him to put it on. Merlin had explained, quietly, that it would likely put more weight on his claim of family, if his father saw him wearing his signet ring. Arthur had been impressed. He honestly hadn't thought of that. Should have. A good strategist would have. Thank god he had Merlin. Maybe together, their individual stupidity would cancel out, turning them into an unstoppable force. If only.
The man before them, who looked so much like a knight of old that Arthur almost did a double take, stood there, waiting their response. Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur beat him to it, stepping forward and holding his head high.
"My name is Arthur Pendragon. I have come to talk with your leader, Uther Pendragon. We have business to discuss."
For one, heart stopping second, Arthur was afraid he'd miscalculated. That he had been wrong; that his father wasn't the leader of the rebels after all. But the moment passed when the knight, stoic and steady, nodded once and turned. He said no words, but, after Arthur shared a glance with Merlin, the pair followed.
They were led through the town, to a clearing. It was there that they finally found signs of life. All around were barracks and blockades. It seemed the rebels were preparing for battle. A few shuffled around, building defensive structures, women interspersed with the men. Interesting. He'd known women were involved with the rebellion but hadn't expected to see them here. Perhaps they would act as nurses?
All it all, it was fairly impressive, if also terrifying. It reminded him of the battles his uncles had told him about, ages ago. It made his heart sink, his breath catching. It all seemed so real, now. They were gearing up for war. If he couldn't convince his father here (and he highly doubted he'd be able to), then the army would attack, and war would officially be waged. It was impossible to tell how many people his father had, but there were dozens milling around. If his father were as brilliant of a knight and strategist as he'd always heard he was, he wouldn't have started a war he did not think he had a chance of winning. He'd had twenty-three years to plan this. It would likely end bloody, on all sides.
They approached a tent that sat in the middle of a wide street, a red tent with gold accents. Arthur gasped, seeing the golden dragon that stood proud on the side of the fabric. He knew, then, who resided in that tent. The man was shouting his identity loud and clear.
The knight before them entered the tent, beckoning them forward with a tilt of his head. Arthur, however, was frozen. Petrified. He'd known, logically, that he was heading to meet his father. But reality felt so much more, well… real, than his logical thoughts. All he could think was how, finally, after almost twenty-three years, he was about to meet his father. Something he'd longed to do since he'd been old enough to comprehend his father's absence in his life. And they were on opposites sides of a war. Fate was a cruel mistress, it seemed.
"Hey," Merlin muttered, the back of his hand brushing Arthur's. Arthur started, turning wide eyes on Merlin. Large displays of affection wouldn't help them here, but Merlin smiled softly, eyes encouraging. "It's okay. I'm here. We're in this together. I promise."
Strangely… the words calmed him. Let him know that he wasn't alone. That, while he may already have burned bridges with his father, before even meeting the man, he didn't have nothing. Smiling tightly back, Arthur nodded.
And with that, he strode forward, head held high, facing his future head on.
The first thing he noticed when he entered the tent was the large table in the center, housing a map of the kingdom. There were some red pins in the board, though he had no idea what they represented. He didn't have time to study them, to figure out their meaning, when he heard an inhale of breath, sharp and shocked. His eyes jolted up, his heart stopped as his eyes met green eyes, set in an aged face. And he gasped as well.
The pair didn't move for long moments, staring at one another intently. Arthur felt his eyes rove over the lined face, taking in the wrinkles that told of his advancing years. There was a thin scar over his right eye, which Arthur knew the man had gotten in a duel when he'd been about his age. The man's eyes weren't fully green, either, the left one mostly brown. He'd never seen eyes like that before. It told the uniqueness that the man before him held. He was wearing chainmail and some armor; not as full as the knight from earlier, who exited when the man held up a hand. Everyone in the room left, actually. He hadn't even noticed anyone. He'd had eyes only for the man before him, the blood red cape billowing over his shoulders.
It was his father, he thought numbly, eyes impossibly wide. They watered, but he didn't dare blink. He couldn't bear the thought that this was just a dream.
"Arthur," the older man breathed, sounding like he couldn't quite believe his words. The man rounded the table and approached Arthur slowly, each step measured and calculated. Arthur didn't look away as he stared at the approaching man.
Finally, the man stood before him. The man was a little taller than him, Arthur noted absently, looking up only a little to meet the strange eyes. The man paused when they were within arms distance, eyes just roving his face. From this distance, Arthur could see the similarities between them. They had the same proud chin, their nose and cheek shape the same. The man's hair was paler, a dusty brown, but he could imagine that it might have been lighter when he'd been younger. Like his own. Arthur had taken after his mother in looks, but he'd also, apparently, taken after his father as well. A blend of the two.
God.
Before he could think or react, he felt strong arms pull at him. He had a second to panic that his father was attacking, but then he felt arms close around his shoulders tightly. It was… oh. A hug.
Arthur lifted his arms absently and held the older man back. His heart was pounding, like this was unreal, but eventually he relaxed. He knew why he was here; couldn't forget. But he allowed himself a moment. One moment. To hold his father and let himself feel the love he'd had all those years within him.
He could feel tears fill his eyes, but he fought them down. He didn't want to look weak in front of his father. Couldn't. But when his father pulled back, Arthur was shocked to see tears streaming down the lined face, lifting a hand up to touch Arthur's face, almost like in a trance.
"You look so much like your mother," the man breathed, his voice breaking at the end. Tears filled his eyes at that, Arthur gasping to keep them down. He blinked his eyes, blue like his mother's, and smiled brokenly.
"Hello, father," he whispered. The other man had a look of such cautious joy on his face, like he couldn't believe his luck. Like he couldn't believe this was real.
"Have you come to join me? With you by my side, we will be unstoppable. We will regain our kingdom if we join forces," his father breathed, smiling truly now. Like he'd accepted reality and found it to his liking.
But the words had jolted Arthur. Right. He was here for a reason. He hadn't forgotten, how could he? But he couldn't ignore it now. And though it pained him, the child in him longing to nod and never leave his father's side ever again, he knew he had to do this. He owed it to Merlin.
And so, though it ripped his heart out, Arthur shook his head sadly, stepping back. Standing beside Merlin, who had been silent during the reunion between father and son. Arthur could feel Merlin's eyes on him, but he didn't dare look away from his father, who suddenly looked so confused, smile still on his face, even as his eyes narrowed with confusion.
"No. I- no. I'm not here to join you. In fact..." he paused, taking a breath. He longed to look at Merlin but felt that doing so would break the fragile tension in the room. "I'm here to ask you to step down. End this rebellion. It will only lead to death and further pain. Please-"
He wasn't able to say anything else as his father, smile fading as Arthur's words sunk in, abruptly took out the sword at his side, pointing it at Merlin. Arthur, reflexes fast from his nightly practice, pushed Merlin back and took out his own sword, eyes shuttered as he stared at his father. The joy he had felt moments before faded as reality crept in. They weren't allies. They were enemies. He'd do well to remember that.
"Whatever he has against you, Arthur, you don't have to worry. We have the ability to break enchantments. His hold over you will not last."
Right. He'd expected his father to think him enchanted. His friends had, after all, at first. It was annoying. He wasn't enchanted. Well. Not by magic, at least. Arthur shook his head, arm unwavering as he held his sword out, Merlin warm against his back.
"It's not like that, father," he started, stuttering over the last word. His father's eyes got darker. "He's not enchanting me. He's not our enemy. He's not like his father. Prince Merlin is our hope for a better future. This rebellion will only bring needless death. We don't have to lose so many people. We can unite Albion without any bloodshed. He's the key to that. Father-"
He was cut off again as his father laughed, the sound harsh and angry. Rage filled the heterochromatic eyes, though it wasn't directed at him. It was at the face that was peeking out over his shoulder, hatred so palpable that he could almost feel it. He pushed Merlin down, so he wasn't able to be seen at all. Merlin let out a noise of complaint, but Arthur didn't care. His jaw was set as he looked at his enraged father.
"Evil sorcerer, you have enchanted my only son. My flesh and blood. You will pay for the sins you have committed here. You and your foul kind. I will kill your father and take his throne. Then I will punish you and your kind the way you have punished mine. I swear to you that I will eradicate the evil that is magic if it is the last thing I do. You will pay for your crimes."
Arthur let out a noise of rage, though his father ignored him, eyes steady on his shoulder, where Merlin was still trying to peek out from.
"I am not enchanted!" He yelled. He wanted to be more controlled, but his fear and anger got the better of him. God, it was worse than he'd feared. His father wanted revenge against magical people, not peace. That made him realize, more than anything else, that he was on the right side of things. Not his father's. Not the king's. But Merlin's. The only person who truly wanted peace. "Revenge is not the way to go about this! We need peace, lasting peace! If you take over and kill magical people, you become just as bad as Balinor and his crimes against us! We need peace, not death!"
His father laughed again, shaking his head angrily, enraged eyes on him.
"You must be enchanted, for no son of mine would be so weak and foolish. You think that prince of yours would show you mercy? Look what his father has done! He condemned innocent men, women, and children to a reform camp! You know what those camps are like. Torture and starvation. If the people don't die, they lose their spirit entirely, a living ghost. That is what you fight for?! No. No son of mine would be so ruthless. So uncaring."
Arthur let out a noise of frustration.
"You're right! That's bad! But that's Balinor, not Merlin! Merlin fought for the townspeople to be shown mercy, fights for the rights of everyone, not just magical people. He cares!"
His father shook his head, scowl alight on his lips. He had a second to be taken by his similar it was to his own scowl but shook it off. It wasn't important.
"If you truly believe that, then you're a fool. Your prince is no different to his father. Whatever lies he is telling you will be revealed as his true nature rears up. But I know you are not speaking, Arthur. It is your enchantment talking. I will free you from your affliction and then you will see."
Arthur opened his mouth to talk, sword steady on his father as the man began to move, wary, but he was beaten. Merlin, the fool, and stepped out from Arthur's protection and was looking at his father, hands raised in an act of proving innocence. Arthur tried to pull him back, a sound of panic leaving his lips unbidden, but Merlin just glared at him, stilling his hands. Huh. So even voiceless commands worked with their bond.
"Lord Pendragon, please let me speak. I am not enchanting your son. He speaks the truth. I am not my father. I understand your anger. Believe me, I do. And you have my solemn vow that when I'm king things will be different. Non-magical people will be treated with as much respect and dignity as any magical person. Old titles will be upheld again, old Noble non-magical families given some of their land and their money back. I can't promise everything, but we will live in peace, I swear-"
Merlin was cut off as his father laughed again, anger radiating off him as he approached Merlin, sword pressed against his chest. Arthur let out a noise of complaint, raising his sword, ready to fight his father if he had to, but Merlin shook his head, holding a hand up, even as his eyes never wavered from his father. Arthur swallowed thickly but held back. He didn't put down his sword, though, body tense to step in at a moment's notice.
"I came in peace. Would you prove yourself a coward and slay an unarmed man?" Merlin questioned, almost casual, eyes hard. His father scowled but didn't remove his sword.
"Even if I did believe your words, which I never will, how long would that take? Months, years, decades? How much longer must my people suffer at the hands of your honorless father? No. This ends here, now. I will not wait a second longer. Your false promises hold no sway on me. It will not come to you becoming king. I will become king and you will be removed from your unearned throne. This, I promise you. And I will remove my son from your enchantment. Make no doubt about it."
Great. Well, this was going well. It seemed all he'd managed to do was make his father angrier, more dedicated to his plan. He'd hoped to at least plant seeds of doubt in the man, but as he looked into the enraged, righteous eyes of his father, who was glaring daggers at his other half, he knew he never would. He had only one last card up his sleeve. He only prayed it was an ace.
And so, despite the nerves he felt, praying Merlin would forgive him, he played his last hand.
"What about the Once and Future King?!" he demanded, his father glancing to him with furrowed brow. He looked back at Merlin a second later, but his hand wavered.
"I see no reason why a child's fairytale would matter whatsoever here," his father rejoined, dismissive. But Arthur could tell his father was paying attention.
"It's not a fairytale. It's real, a prophesy. And Merlin…" Arthur paused, looking briefly at the prince. Merlin was still looking at his father, which made sense since he had a sword pointed at his chest, but his head was tilted slightly towards Arthur. He was listening. Arthur swallowed thickly but plowed on. Merlin would just have to forgive him. Hopefully. "Merlin is the warlock in the story. The Great Dragon, Kilgharrah, told me. He is destined to help reunite Albion, to right the wrongs of his father. I know it."
He carefully did not mention that he was the Once and Future King. He didn't think that would go over well, at the moment.
His father wavered again, eyebrows furrowing, his sword dipping. Just as Arthur thought he might have actually gotten through to the old man, the sword was lifted back up, eyes hard.
"It matters not. While Kilgharrah provided our family aid in our escape from Camelot, he is not a friend to non-magical people. He is a dragon, a creature of magic. As such, his words matter not. I am not the king of legend, nor would I ever trust a sorcerer to reunite this kingdom. It matters little to me what destiny this warlock has. Destiny means nothing to me. The future is what I make of it. And I will wage this war, destiny be damned."
Well. There went his last chance. Merlin was still staring at the sword, but his back was tense, eyes wide. Ah, crap. Now he'd have to explain things to Merlin. Well, at least this made his request to possibly free Kilgharrah an easier one.
"Father, please-"
His father cut him off again. He was starting to get tired of this. Gaius never cut him off this way.
"No. I will hear no more. I will allow you and the false prince to leave here, unharmed, as long as you do not harm us. I am a man of honor, the likes you would not understand," he directed at Merlin, backing up, sword still raised but no longer pressed against Merlin's chest. "But as soon as you go, I will make good on my promises in the letter I sent."
"No!" Merlin blurted, cutting his father off, for once. His father opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin spoke faster. "Please, the townspeople are innocent. They've done nothing wrong. Your war is not with them, it's with me and my father. Leave them out of this-"
"And what of the townspeople of Magegrave?! Or the thousands of men, women, and children your father has executed for bearing a blade?! Were they not innocent? And yet your father has shown them no mercy. No, false prince. I have shown enough mercy as it is. Your father has rejected my terms and as such, the lives lost are on his hand, not mine. Now leave, before I change my mind," his father growled, eyes dark as he glared at Merlin. Merlin swallowed but nodded tensely. He realized arguing would be futile. Good. Arthur didn't want to have to force him to leave. Staying would do nothing for anyone, other than getting them killed.
Merlin strode out of the tent, head held high and back straight. Arthur was about to follow when his father called his name. Arthur, almost against his will, paused, glancing at the man. Now that Merlin had left, his father seemed almost deflated, looking at him with what might have been longing in his old eyes.
"Arthur. My son. Long have I wanted to see you. If you can hear me through your enchantment, then please believe me when I say I never wanted to leave you, or your mother. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I did it to keep you both safe. I've kept tabs on you both, as well as your sister, but I had to keep my distance. Please understand that everything I do, all of it, I do for you. So that you may live in a world where you don't have to be treated as a second-class citizen. Sometimes, life gives you no choice but to attack. I hope you can understand this once your enchantment is broken."
Arthur stared at his father, jaw clenching as he tried to figure out the right words to say.
"I am not enchanted. I know you will never believe this, but it is true. Know this, however. If you kill these people, father? Then I will never forgive you. I understand why you had to leave. I even understand the rebellion, your anger. But this? Senseless murder? This, I cannot understand. A life for a life is no way to live. An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. My mother taught me that."
With that, Arthur exited the tent, blinking back the tears that had risen, unbidden. He met Merlin's concerned eyes and nodded, showing he was okay.
Together, the pair exited the town, Merlin tensing more and more the farther they got. When they had finally reached the entrance, a scout following them from a distance, Merlin paused, shuddering.
"I have to do something, Arthur. I have to save them," he muttered, his voice full of anger and sorrow. Arthur swallowed, but shook his head.
"No. This is not a battle we can win. If we try, they'll kill us. I don't like it any more than you do, but we're better to the world alive than dead," he hissed, grabbing Merlin by his arm, and dragging him, gently, away. Merlin resisted at first, for a second, but eventually gave in and followed Arthur, head bowed low.
It was as they were halfway to the army encampment that the screams started up, Merlin jerking to a stop, eyes wide. He looked back, but Arthur tugged on his hand, which he had grabbed after Merlin had started to follow him, squeezing gently.
"I know, Merlin. I know. We have to get back to Camelot, though. We have things to discuss," he intoned, eyes firmly ahead. Looking back would do nothing. He saw Merlin swallow thickly from his periphery, but he eventually nodded. He looked miserable as he walked away, tears in his eyes. Arthur understood. He'd meant what he said to his father. He could forgive the man for the war, understanding the reasons behind it. This? This he couldn't forgive. It was needless death. Senseless. An eye for an eye. Revenge.
The army encampment was rushing around as they approached, the screams loud enough to be heard from the distance. The general from earlier approached them, eyes wide. They had dropped hands before entering the encampment and Arthur was mourning the loss of the support.
"Prince Merlin! Are you alright? We heard the screams and were preparing to send a team in to rescue you."
Merlin shook his head, swallowing again as he tried to get the words out.
"I'm fine. I spoke with the rebel leader. He refused my terms and is now making good on his promises to kill members of the town. He will not back down," Merlin intoned, voice expressionless. The general reeled back and immediately began barking orders at the officers around him, telling them to prepare to attack.
"Damn it. I didn't expect differently, but I certainly had hoped. If anyone could change his mind, it would have been you, my prince. Will you oversee the battle?"
Merlin looked at the general with wide eyes. He looked almost… tempted. Arthur shook his head, though, forceful.
"Your father is expecting you back at the castle, remember, my prince?" Arthur stressed, eyes meaningful on Merlin. He looked down, respectfully, when Merlin looked at him. He may not be respectful more than half the time, but he did know how a servant was expected to act around his master.
Merlin looked at him for a moment, before nodding.
"Yes. Yes, you're right. I'm sorry, General Grey, but I must be returning to the citadel. It's probably for the better; despite all my training, I've never overseen a battle. I'd probably just hold you all back," he conceded, shrugging slightly. The General, General Grey he supposed, just shook his head, smiling slightly at the prince.
"I have seen your training, my prince. I am certain that, were you to stay, you'd do just fine. Every general must start somewhere. Still, I will let you take your leave. Your horses will be brought to you at once," he made a gesture to another officer, who nodded and left immediately, "and will prepare for battle here. I will send news as soon as we have the battle contained."
Merlin nodded, eyes glassy.
"Yeah. Thanks. I will warn you, though. From what we could see, the town is being set up for a siege. They will not go down easily. I will see if I can send the Castle Mages down to provide aid when I return. It should take at least four hours for them to arrive, however, which I apologize for."
The General shook his head.
"It is fine. We will put a stop to this rebellion, once and for all, my prince. No artifact can counter magic entirely. We've been working on counter spells to any and all known protection charms. No matter how powerful it is, it will be no match to our best sorcerers. Now, I apologize, but I must take my leave if my prince permits."
Merlin nodded and gave his permission. With that, the General stalked away, barking more and more orders, the encampment getting ready for battle. Their horses arrived a moment later, the stable boy from earlier leading them. Merlin nodded to him in thanks, smile brittle. The boy blushed, looking away. Arthur felt an irrational spike of anger at the coyness but pushed it down. Jealousy was not helpful here, whatsoever.
As they rode from the town, Merlin couldn't shake the troubled look from his face. Arthur would sneak a glance every few seconds but couldn't figure out how to break the silence. They had a lot to talk about, but this was not the right time, and certainly wasn't the right place.
They arrived back at the castle in a little under two hours. They didn't have quite the rush as when heading out to meet the rebels, but they hadn't dallied. Not a word was exchanged as they rode, making him feel awkward and tense.
Entering the citadel had proved a little challenging, as had exiting it, since they were currently in lockdown. Apparently, news of the battle had reached the citadel, so they were on even higher alert. Luckily, Arthur had the foresight to remove his chainmail and sword before mounting. They were able to get into the city after Merlin pointed to his crown with a raised eyebrow.
As he dismounted his horse, a guard entered the room, telling Merlin his father wanted to see him, immediately. Merlin rolled his eyes privately at him, but sighed and nodded to the guard, saying he'd be right there. The guard left, giving them a moment alone. But Merlin said nothing, just sighed and bowed his head against his horse's neck, Buttercup whinnying and butting her head against Merlin's shoulder. Merlin smiled at that, petting the horse thankfully. Arthur looked away to give the man a mime of privacy and pet his own horse. The beast was probably the best gift he'd ever received, and he'd forever be thankful to Merlin for the stallion.
Soon after the pair entered the castle a tension entered Merlin's body, hands clenched and eyes hard. He didn't even look at Arthur, which made him worried. Merlin was mad at him, yes, but surely, he wasn't that upset? Hm. Perhaps he had lost more that day than he'd previously thought.
When they reached the throne room, Merlin entered with his head held high. Though he knew he should wait outside, he entered quietly behind him, like a shadow.
Luckily, the king didn't even spare him a glance. Unluckily, it was because he had stridden up to Merlin and was glaring at him with rage in his eyes.
"What on earth were you thinking Merlin?! Forging an official letter?! Meeting with an enemy army?! Against your king's express orders! This is treason, of the highest order! Do you expect me to go easy on your because you are my son?!"
Arthur stiffened as the king got into Merlin's face, his own filled with rage. To his credit, Merlin did not back down, though Arthur could see his hands shaking.
"I did what you failed to do. I did what I could to protect my people, my kingdom!"
"And if they had killed you?! If you had died?! What for our kingdom then?!"
"But I didn't die! I'm fine! I spoke with their leader, who is indeed Uther Pendragon, by the way, and he let me go! And I know more about his plans now! I got a look at their war table and have an idea of their next planned attacks! I am not a fool, father! Despite your insistence that I am!"
Silence followed Merlin's declaration, the king breathing heavily. After a second, he pulled back, striding over to his throne. He spared Arthur a glance but didn't say anything as he sat on his throne, face thunderous.
"Regardless, you disobeyed me. You went against my direct orders. For this, you will be punished. You will spend the night in the dungeons. Pray that I am feeling merciful in the morning and let you out. Guards!" The king called, a couple guards entering with stony faces. Arthur wanted to shout, to say it was wrong, but knew if he said anything, he'd just make it worse. So, despite the rage that filled him, he just watched as Merlin was grabbed, his eye bleeding pain, but his jaw set.
"Fine. I don't regret my decisions. Someone has to lead this kingdom, and if you won't, I will. I remain loyal to you, father. Please don't push me away."
With that, the guards took him away, Merlin striding out with his head high. Arthur felt proud of him, for keeping his composure. The man wouldn't have been able to do it when he'd first met him. He'd grown so much in the past couple years and he was so very proud.
However… with Merlin and the guards gone, he realized suddenly that he was left alone with the king. And the king was glaring at him with vitriol.
"So. Whose plan was it, then, boy? My son's, or yours?"
A chill filled Arthur, but he kept his face neutral as he bowed his head. Before he could speak, the king spoke again, voice angry.
"Look at me. After all. A king should be able to look at another."
That made him look up, eyes wide. He didn't look the king in the eyes, didn't dare show such daring, but his heart had stopped. He must have heard wrong.
"I- I don't know what you mean, my king. I am no king."
The king laughed, sounding scarily like his own father. Funny, the two men were so different, and yet so alike.
"Aren't you? I bet you and my son thought yourselves clever. Plotting together under my nose. I should have you killed here and now," he hissed. Arthur felt his spine crawl as fear filled him. He tensed, hands clenched though he refused to retreat, but the king snorted, waving him off. "And yet I know if I do, I will be signing my own death warrant. I saw the look in my son's eyes when I threatened to kill you for treason the other day. And here I was, thinking I'd been so careful to keep him away from any young man his age. When I caught him with that peasant from town, I thought I had ended that damned prophecy at last. And yet, I fear all I did was cause him to hate me. Perhaps it's true what they say. You bring about your own damnation in your bid to prevent destiny's blade."
Arthur could only look at the king, minding to not look him in the eye, mind frozen. He had no idea what to say. How... how had the king figured it out? He'd been careful. Hadn't he? And it wasn't like Merlin knew. So, he couldn't have let it slip by accident...
"I will not back down, boy. I have done too much to back down now. I would rather die than watch that bastard Pendragon get anywhere near this throne. I have worked hard to prevent his reign. I have nothing else to lose. Do what you must, but I will not make it easy. All I ask is that you let my son keep his throne. He will be a great king one day. He will not be made your servant. That is all I ask."
Arthur felt his throat unstick, though his mind was still frozen. The king was awaiting a reply, though, and one never left a king waiting long.
"I see no reason why your son would not become king one day," was his eventual response, words carefully measured. He didn't bother deny his destiny, knowing it would just anger the king. But he wouldn't confirm it, either, in case the king was lying about not wishing to kill him. After all, he'd admitted to attempting it the other night.
The king stared at him, long and hard, before nodding.
"Go, then. I will let my son out in the morning. I'd advise you to not counter me again, though. I will not be so lenient next time. You are dismissed."
Despite the indignation that Arthur felt at the king's entire demeanor, he knew he'd be a damned fool if he didn't accept his dismissal with grace, so he just bowed his head and strode carefully out of the room. He kept his head high and his steps measured despite how he longed to run.
He headed back down to the stables to give his and Merlin's horses some treats. He knew Merlin would have done it himself if he were able. Once done, he grabbed his things and headed back to his room. His own room since Merlin was in the dungeon. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun shining, but he had never felt colder inside. Perhaps he and Merlin should enter a contest for 'worst interaction with distant fathers.' He honestly had no idea who would win.
Gaius looked at him when he entered, but Arthur just shook his head, everything in him tired. Bone tired. He finally understood what Gaius meant when he used the phrase. He'd never felt more exhausted.
Gaius still walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Arthur felt tears rise to his eyes and just let them fall. He'd had too much happen that day.
"I met him," he whispered, voice ragged. He heard Gaius make a confused sound, though the older man ran his aged hands down his back soothingly. Oh, right. He'd not told the man where he'd been going, to keep him safe. "My father. He's leading the rebellion and thinks I'm enchanted. He didn't listen to me when I asked him to stop. I fear if he knew I wasn't enchanted, he'd hate me. Gaius..."
"Shh, Arthur," Gaius hummed, holding him closer. It was probably for the better. Arthur was just working himself up. He cut off his hysterical words and just buried his head in Gaius's shoulder.
"The king put Merlin in the dungeon," he muttered, causing the older man to stiffen, before carefully relaxing. "For going against his orders."
"The king has done that before. He thinks it builds character. I'll go to Merlin later, to make sure he's alright. You should rest, however, my boy. You look exhausted."
"There's more," he muttered, though he didn't deny Gaius's assessment of his exhaustion. He was right. "The king knows of my destiny. He said he won't kill me since Merlin would kill him if he did, but he also said he wouldn't back down. I don't... I don't know what to do."
Gaius hummed, shaking his head.
"You need to rest, Arthur. You cannot possibly do anything when exhausted. Sleep, and then we can come up with a plan. Alright?"
Arthur nodded absently, pulling back from Gaius, and wandering to his room. He paused at his door, half turning back at Gaius, staring at the wall, a sad smile on his lips.
"I'm glad I have you, Gaius. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't. You're more a father to me than my father is. Thank you."
He tried to put all his feeling into it, even with how tired he felt. Gaius let out a sound, tutting softly.
"Thank you, my boy. It means the world to hear you say that. And you know I view you as my own. I always will. I am so proud of you, Arthur, and all you have achieved. Sleep well, my boy."
Arthur nodded, turning back, and entering his bed. It felt so much harder now that he'd gotten used to Merlin's cloud like bed, but he was too tried to care.
As he fell asleep, he had no idea what the future held. He had so much to talk to Merlin about. So very much.
But it would have to wait.
For now, he slept.
And he dreamt of war.
A/N: ~~New player Uther has been added to the board!~~
Ahh, so yes. Uther IS alive. I did mention how I wanted this to be a role reversal, yes? So I wanted Uther to be alive, like Balinor was in canon. However, I fully doubt that Uther would ever be content to sit idly by instead of taking action. I do explain later as to why it took him so long to return to fight, so if you're wondering that, don't worry! It does get (kind of) explained.
Now, as for the bond... Ahhh. This was not actually something I had planned! I brought the whole "Merlin, step back!" thing up because I realized it would fit. When I initially wrote that scene, I had kind of hand waved it off to myself, saying "it's their bond!" But then later, I was like... oh shoot, why did that happen? And so I came up with this... really weird bond thing? It's not quite a soul bond, as I've always hated those in fics, but it's just... they're connected and they listen to what the other wants, with the desire to do as the other asks. They can still say no, though! If they truly didn't want to, they have the power to resist. But, if they are indifferent to it, or do want to do it themselves, their bond just... amplifies the feeling? I honestly don't know. I spent so long agonizing over the details of this bond, wondering if I should scrape the whole idea, but I kept it. And it comes into play a lot later on in the story, so it's kind of stuck in here now. I hope it's not too confusing. Basically, the way I saw it, it's like the bond between Kilgharrah and Merlin from the show, but it goes both ways and it is not mandatory for them to do it.
I know it's a bit confusing, so feel free to ask questions if you are confused! I'm always happy to try and clarify my thinking.
Anyway! I hope this chapter made sense. Things start to get moving very soon so be prepared. :-)