Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Fifteen
Arthur wasn't sure he'd ever wake again.
Merlin had seemed so certain, it was hard to doubt him. But men were not meant to return from death, and as darkness overtook him, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Merlin overestimated his own power.
When he returned, the first thing his mind recognized wasn't the touch of the breeze or the hardness of the ground, but the gentle murmuring of Merlin's voice. And then as he registered the warmth of the sun, he recognized the words from Merlin, gentle and rhythmic, like a chant.
In a moment of confusion, he wondered if it was the spell. But it couldn't be, because these were real words. Words Arthur knew.
"I, Merlin, son of Hunith, pledge loyalty to Camelot and to its king all the days of my life," Merlin recited in a voice so low, Arthur half-wondered if it was his imagination. "I solemnly swear to use my skills and abilities faithfully in Camelot's service and for her good, and never for her harm."
Then his eyes saw the warm red of the back of his eyelids, and he felt a gentle pressure on his head and a tighter pressure on his hand. Merlin's touch. He knew he should move, should say something, should reassure them all he was alive.
But he waited. Just for a moment. Because selfishly, he wanted to hear the rest. He wanted to hear the sorcerer speak those words one more time.
"I swear, on my life, fealty to my king in all things. I have always been, and will forever be, loyal to you," Merlin breathed. Then, to Arthur's surprise, he started again. "I, Merlin, son of Hunith…"
Arthur tried to speak, but discovered his mouth didn't quite work yet. Instead, he tested his fingers, and found he was able to squeeze Merlin's hand. The words broke off abruptly.
"Arthur?" he asked softly.
Arthur tried again, but all that came out was a low moan. A moment later, a shadow fell over him.
"That's okay, don't rush it," Merlin murmured, and Arthur felt his hand move across his hair, as though he were a child. "You're okay. Just let it come naturally."
"He's alive!"
"Yes, Leon." Arthur could hear the smile in Merlin's voice. "He's alive. Aren't you, Arthur?"
Arthur tried to speak again, managing this time to get a few weak words out. "Feel like death." But even as he spoke, he felt his strength coming back. He wasn't in pain; just tired. Forcing his eyes open, he saw three faces hovering over him. Leon looked nearly giddy with relief, while Gwaine grinned triumphantly.
And Merlin…Merlin looked exhausted and excited and dazed and…
And disbelieving.
"It worked," he said, lifting his hand from Arthur's head to run it over his face. "Gods, I can't believe it worked."
Arthur tried to sit up at that, but found he wasn't quite strong enough yet. Fortunately, Leon took on all of the anger Arthur felt rising up, but couldn't quite express.
"What do you mean, you can't believe it worked?" the knight demanded in horror. "You swore there was no danger in it!"
Merlin's eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. "There wasn't!" he promised. "Truly! I had a backup plan! A backup plan that I'm really, really glad we didn't need. I mean, I couldn't take the risk that I wouldn't be able to bring him back. I've never done anything remotely like that before. But it worked. It worked."
He leaned back, taking a shaky breath and glancing towards the rest of the group. "Lancelot?" he asked tentatively.
Arthur tried to sit up again, and this time he succeeded with a little bit of help from Gwaine. Then he turned to look at the errant knight.
He didn't need magic or a test to know the enchantment was broken. There was a light in Lancelot's eyes, a gentleness in his face, that had disappeared bit by bit over the past days, replaced with hardness and anger and hatred.
He was looking at the face of his friend once more.
The others were more hesitant to believe, however.
"Arthur nearly died," Merlin said, studying Lancelot's face. "I could have let him die. Do you think I should have?"
Lancelot frowned in confusion, looking from one person to the next, then down at the ropes binding him.
"What do you remember?" Arthur asked gently, and Lancelot directed his attention towards him. Arthur looked carefully, but he saw no hatred or rage in his eyes.
"Everything," Lancelot answered, his confusion slowly turning to horror. "I hated you, Arthur. I…I've never hated anyone like that. I wanted you dead more than I've ever wanted anything in my life." His eyes widened suddenly. "I tried to kill you. Oh, gods… I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't mean—"
"Stop," Arthur interrupted. "It wasn't you. It was the curse."
"The amulet," Lancelot remembered, leaning forward frantically to try to see his leg, straining against the ropes.
"It's gone," Percival spoke up, gesturing vaguely. "We threw it over there somewhere."
Merlin stood, nudging his toe through the long grass until he found it. He picked it up and studied it, a look of loathing on his face.
"The magic's gone," he confirmed with a loud exhale. "It worked."
Percival pulled out his sword and cut Lancelot loose from the tree. He stood, shaking his limbs to get blood flowing into them again. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of Arthur.
"It's strange," he said. "Like waking from an exceptionally vivid nightmare, where for a moment you're not sure what's real and what's not. I don't want to kill you, but there's still…" he hesitated, struggling for words. "There's still this voice, saying I should want to. Saying I should hate you. I know it's not real, but it's there." He shuddered.
Arthur stood, gratefully grasping Leon's helping arm as he wobbled for a moment, then made his way to Lancelot. He placed a hand on his shoulder as Lancelot continued to stare at him. Around him, he could see the other knights tense. If any part of the enchantment still held, Lancelot wouldn't be able to stand the proximity. Even as Arthur gripped his shoulder firmly with his left hand, his right hovered near the hilt of his sword, ready to step back and draw if need be.
"I'm sorry, sire," Lancelot whispered again.
Arthur grinned, then gave him a gentle shake.
"It's over now," he said. "It's over."
Lancelot laughed suddenly, a joyful and free sound. "Let me guess – Merlin saved the day again?"
"I killed Arthur to break the enchantment," Merlin confirmed from where he knelt, building a fire to destroy what remained of the amulet. "And then I brought him back again."
"No surprise there," Lancelot said with a proud smile, then added to Arthur, "He has a habit of saving us all. Especially you. Although this is the first time that I know of that he killed you. Bet that was satisfying," he joked, walking over to join Merlin.
Merlin held up a hand. "No, stay over there until I have this thing destroyed. I'm not taking any chances." He murmured something and his eyes flashed gold, and the fire sprung to life. "And no. For all the times I've wanted to kill Arthur, I found the reality of the experience decidedly less enjoyable than the fantasy."
He stood and tossed the amulet in the fire, uttering a few more unintelligible words. The flames roared larger, making a screeching noise, then a snapping sound. Once they died back down to normal, Merlin leaned over for a closer look, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
"Nothing but ashes now," he declared before rejoining the group.
Lancelot closed the distance quickly, grabbing his friend into a hug.
"Thank you," he said earnestly, and Merlin tensed.
"I should have protected you," he mumbled. "I left you vulnerable to her. I'm sorry."
Lancelot just chuckled, letting him go only to grasp his shoulders. "I've told you before, Merlin. You can't save everyone all the time. I'm just glad you were here to end it." He turned to look at the rest of them. "Although I have to say, I'm surprised this crew agreed to let you kill the king."
"Yes, well, it was either kill me or cut off your leg," Arthur said darkly, prompting Lancelot to blanch. "There were no good options."
The knight glanced down at his leg, blinking in alarm, and Arthur felt a pang of guilt for his bluntness.
"No good options, indeed," he murmured.
The group fell into silence, a combination of exhilarated relief and utter exhaustion sweeping over them, until Elyan stood.
"I don't know about you lot, but I'm starving. I'm going to go get some water for dinner." He paused for a moment before nodding to Merlin. "You look like hell. I'll cook tonight."
Merlin, who did look like hell, now that he mentioned it, smiled, and Elyan gave him a tentative smile in return. And Arthur suspected the gratitude in his servant's eyes extended far beyond his relief at being excused from the chore.
"Thank you," Lancelot murmured to Arthur as the group migrated towards the fire. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, and they were slowly transitioning into their normal pattern of stopping for the night, as though something momentous and unbelievable hadn't just happened. "For trusting Merlin. For protecting me, even as I tried to kill you. I know that couldn't have been an easy decision."
"It wasn't," Arthur admitted. He stared at his servant, who was sitting on the ground and leaning against a log. Collapsed against the log, really, his face pale and his body limp with fatigue. "He's lied so much, Lancelot. I wanted to believe him that he could pull it off, but…" he trailed off. Now that the crisis with Lancelot was over, all of his conflicted feelings about his servant the sorcerer were welling up again.
"He hated it, you know."
Arthur looked at him inquisitively.
"The lying," he clarified. "Especially lying to you. It absolutely tormented him. He cares about your opinion above all others. He cares about your friendship above all others. But he cares about your safety above even that. And he knew if you executed him or sent him away, he couldn't protect you."
Arthur sighed. "He's an idiot."
"He's really not. Merlin just has his priorities, and they're pretty rigid. He loves Camelot, and he loves you like you're his own family. Everything he does flows out of that."
Arthur thought and felt a myriad of things at those words. But all he said in response was, "I'm glad you're back."
"So, tell me, Merlin," Arthur began, once everyone had finished dinner and conversation had fallen into a tired lull. Merlin's head kept nodding down, then jerking back up as he fought sleep. Arthur suspected he might've had a nod or two of his own.
He had many questions to ask, but one in particular he wanted cleared up before he collapsed on his bedroll.
"What exactly was this backup plan of yours that had you so thoroughly convinced I wouldn't die?"
Merlin's body went still, the sleepiness gone from his eyes when they opened.
"Doesn't matter," he said flippantly. "I didn't need it."
"Which sounds like a good thing," Arthur acknowledged. "But I'm your king, and I'm ordering you to tell me what it was."
A few of the knights hid their smiles as Merlin glared at him, bristling under the authoritative tone. But his reluctance to share just made Arthur more determined to know.
"It was that first spell I did," he finally admitted in a grudging voice. "It was dormant. But if you'd reached the point of death where I couldn't pull you back, it would have kicked in and saved you."
"Sounds useful," Arthur said shrewdly. "And yet you didn't tell us about it before, and you clearly don't want to tell us about it now. So what aren't you telling me?"
Merlin chewed his lip for a few seconds. "Why does it matter?"
"Because I'm done with secrets," Arthur replied firmly, and the stubbornness faded from Merlin's face.
"The universe demands balance," he answered in a soft voice. "If someone has reached the point of death, they cannot be saved without another taking their place. A life for a life."
It took a moment for Arthur to understand what he was saying. When the pieces clicked, he sat up straight, his face warming with anger.
"A life for a life?" he demanded. "You mean if you couldn't bring me back, you were planning on trading someone's life for mine?"
Merlin nodded.
"And whose life were you planning to trade?"
The words slipped out before Arthur fully thought them through, and Merlin stiffened.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask me that," he said, his voice eerily calm, and Arthur saw both hurt and anger in his eyes.
Guilt flooded through Arthur as he realized the obvious truth.
"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. "Of course…gods, Merlin. You idiot! That was your plan? To sacrifice yourself for me?"
"I swore on my own life I would not let you die," he reminded him. "Did you think I didn't mean it?"
Arthur sighed. "Of course you did." He glowered at his servant. "Never again. Do you understand? Whatever that spell was, you will never use it again."
Merlin returned his gaze for a moment, then closed his eyes and relaxed back against the log once more, apparently done with the conversation.
"Merlin," Arthur warned. "That's an order from your king. Do you understand me?"
"I understand your order perfectly," Merlin confirmed, eyes still closed, a small smile on his face as he ignored Arthur's scowl.