Chapter 5
Merlin felt like he had been slapped. The sound of the door slamming behind Arthur still rang in his ears.
He had known that Arthur hated him, hated this version of him, but he hadn't realized just how different his older self was to his present one that it would justify the king calling him a 'whinging, self-absorbed child'.
The man called Gaius sighed, shoulders slumping, and he turned to Merlin. Wearily he said, "He yells because he cares. Don't take his words to heart. When the king is upset, he will say many things that he will come to regret later on."
"He certainly will regret it," growled Gwaine as he cracked his knuckles. The knight was glaring at the door as if his eyes could throw daggers.
"Is it true?" said Merlin.
"'Course not," said Gwaine. "The only self-absorbed child here goes by the name of 'Arthur Pendragon'."
"What? No, I mean – am I really – can I not be restored to – am I…?"
Gauis laid a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder and looked levelly into his eyes. His gaze was kind and pitying but also sharp with intelligence. "Think of it like this, my boy. You've been given a second chance to live your life."
Merlin slipped out of the man's grasp. Still clutching the hound to his chest, he fell numbly onto one of the benches that were abundant in the room. Staring into the depths of a shelf, he said, "Oh." He had been so afraid of the moment he returned to his 'proper' age that it had not occurred to him once – indeed, it hadn't occurred to any of them – that he might not be returned at all. Was he supposed to feel relieved? Disappointed?
Until this moment, the past two days had been like a bad dream. Things were familiar but strange, as if memories had been plucked from his head and then manipulated into something new and somewhat frightening while he slept. He had thought that breaking the curse – there is no curse – would be somewhat like waking up. He'd open his eyes and the world would look right again.
There would be no waking up.
His mother was old, his home was gone, Will was gone, his life – gone. Everything was gone, in what felt like an instant.
He was shaking. His vision blurred with tears. Merlin swallowed heavily and shook his head, trying to stop from feeling so… alone.
"I want to go home," he whispered.
He was vaguely aware of Gwaine sitting down beside him. "We can take you back to Ealdor, if that's what you really want."
Merlin imagined the house they had left that morning. "No, that's not…"
"Of course you have a home here, too," said Gwaine. Merlin looked up at the older man, who once had been his peer –
No, never my peer. I don't know him. Gwaine was friends with him.
- and immediately looked away.
Thinking of it like that, Merlin felt even lonelier and, for some reason he couldn't grasp, bitter. Even so, Gwaine had done nothing but help him since the moment they had met two nights ago, and he didn't deserve Merlin's animosity. Gwaine had been treating him like his own person, not like a placeholder for the other one, as Arthur had been doing. Gwaine was a good man; Merlin could understand becoming friends with him.
"Can I sleep on it?" said Merlin at last, when he realized that both Gwaine and Gaius were waiting for an answer.
"Of course," said Gaius, smiling kindly. "You have a bed here for as long as you want it." The old man climbed a few steps to a door at the back of the room. He turned the handle and pushed it open, giving Merlin a meaningful look as he did so.
It was his room. The other one's. With the hound in his arms, Merlin crept up to it, past Gaius, and ducked his head inside. The space was small, sparsely furnished, a bit of a pigsty for all that there was little in it, and only dimly lit by the glow from the physician's chambers and the moon.
Merlin swallowed and turned back to the others. Desperate to be alone, he said, "Um, well. Goodnight, then."
"Are you keeping Pierre?" asked Gaius, raising a single brow.
"Err," said Merlin, glancing down at the limp creature. He grinned sheepishly. "Does he need to go back to the kennels, or can I keep him?"
"I don't see why you can't," said the physician. "But you'll have to take care of him."
"Right. Got it." Then, because his mother had taught him a few manners, he added, "Thanks, Gaius."
"I'll be back 'round to see you in the morning, mate," said Gwaine, "and I'll give you a proper tour of Camelot before you go making up your mind."
Merlin nodded, gave a shaky smile, stepped into the room, and closed the door. Behind him, he heard a muffled discussion - Gwaine asking what would be done with the cursed necklace, a response from Gaius that Merlin could not quite make out, and then the outer door to the physician's chambers closing as Gwaine, most likely, left the room.
For a few minutes, Merlin did nothing more than stand there, hugging Pierre and staring at the room around him. There was a bed – the cover half-spilled onto the floor; a wardrobe – the door cracked open, shirts hanging out of the bottom; a table – littered with half-melted candles and the nubs of charcoal sticks. More clothes were scattered about the floor, along with several old books and a spare pair of boots.
Finally, he thawed from the stupor that had gripped him. He stepped around the mess on the floor and gingerly laid the hound on the bed. Straightening the cover around him, trying to ignore the smell on the bed that was him but not him, Merlin curled himself around the dog and pulled the blanket over them both.
He spent a long time staring at the backs of his eyelids, trying to think of nothing at all but the warmth of the small animal in his arms. Eventually, he fell asleep.
Merlin woke to something small, warm, and furry squirming in his arms, a wet tongue licking his face, and an unpleasantly cold nose jabbing him in the eye. When he pulled open his eyelids, he faced an assault of puppy.
"Back, foul beast!" he told it, scooping it up and holding it in the air above him. It tread its paws through the air, voicing tiny growls, and Merlin chuckled at its ferocity.
He slowly became aware of his environs, which were unfamiliar in the yellow light of morning. There was a plaster ceiling overhead, plain white walls to either side, a wardrobe of dark wood, a simple wooden door that didn't quite fit its frame, and an open window to his right through which the chatter and bustle of a large number of people drifted to his ears.
"Ah," he said when the pieces of his memory – what was left of it, at least – fell into place. He was in Camelot, in the white citadel, in the bedroom his older self had lived in for the past six years. The fact did not seem as terrible in the daylight, or it could simply be that a long night's sleep had numbed the shock. Whatever the reason, Merlin did not feel much of anything at his predicament, not with a small animal in his hands, a bleary head, and an empty stomach.
He dropped the puppy – Pierre, as he recalled – onto the bed and sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. He realized he had slept fully clothed, without even removing his boots. He really must have been out of sorts the previous night.
Merlin dragged a hand over his face, patted down his ruffled hair and clothes, and tucked the dog under his arm. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" he told it, and it nipped at his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to Gaius's chambers and stepped out.
The old physician was standing across the room next to one of his enormous, crowded bookshelves. There was a huge leather-bound text open in his arms and a pair of small glass spectacles on his nose. Hearing Merlin approach, he lifted his head and peered at him over the rim of his glasses.
"Ah! I feared you were going to sleep all day! Gwaine's been by twice already to fetch you."
"Sorry," mumbled Merlin, dipping his head and smiling meekly. "How late is it?"
"Nearly noon!" Gaius shut the book with a 'thud' and replaced it on the shelf. He strode to a counter nearby and after a minute produced a plate with a slice of bread, meat, and cheese, which he placed on a table near the center of the room. "Here! Eat this, and I'll have one of the guards let Gwaine know you're conscious."
Merlin went to the table and put Pierre on the floor. The dog promptly ran to one of the counters and peed on the leg. Merlin blanched, looking between the puddle and Gaius. The physician was not impressed. Pierre then defecated under another counter and, having finished with his business, ran in zigzags around the chamber, yipping happily.
"I'll clean that up," said Merlin, only to realize he had no idea where Gaius kept his cleaning supplies. So, he stood helplessly in the middle of the room and frowned desperately at the mess as if it would clean itself. As far as first impressions go, this one is not winning any prizes.
Gaius sighed, took his spectacles from his nose, and slipped them into a fold of his robes. "You eat your lunch. I'll take care of that. I will, however, ask you to reconsider your decision to smuggle Pierre into our chambers."
"Yeah – yes. Absolutely," agreed Merlin, nodding fervently. "I'll take him back to the kennels. I'm really, really sorry, Gaius."
The old man sighed, but then he surprised Merlin by smiling. "I'm not angry, my boy. I understand why you felt the need to keep him with you. But it was a decision of the moment, and the physician's chamber is no place for an animal."
"Right. Got it."
While Gaius stooped to clean Pierre's mess, Merlin slumped awkwardly onto the bench at the table and began to eat. He hadn't truly eaten anything since his mother's oatmeal the day before and was shocked at how hungry he was. The food was gone in a minute.
Pierre's damage remedied, Gaius gave a message to a guard in the corridor and returned to the room, where he joined Merlin at the table. The food in Merlin's stomach at once became like a pile of rocks. The thought of having a conversation with this man filled him with dread. Who was he to Older Merlin, anyhow? A roommate? A friend? A mentor? How was Merlin supposed to behave?
"How are you feeling?" asked Gaius, smiling warmly toward him.
Merlin flashed a smile back and averted his eyes to a whorl in the tabletop. "Fine," he lied.
He heard the physician sigh again.
"…Do you know how we first met?" said Gaius. Merlin's eyes flicked back to the man, who smirked somewhat mischievously. "You came into my chambers, startled me while I was up there, on that balcony, and I fell backwards through the banister."
Merlin stared between the balcony and the old man. A fall from that height? It would have crippled him, if it hadn't killed him.
"Imagine my surprise when my bed suddenly appeared beneath me to break my fall." Here, Gaius raised one eyebrow meaningfully, waiting for Merlin to make the connection.
The rocks in Merlin's stomach tumbled around uncomfortably. "You know about my magic," he stammered.
"I do," confirmed the man. "And I have for many years. I also know that when you were younger, or rather, at the age you are now, it's difficult for you to control that magic. But, if you ever need advice, you can ask me. A long time ago, I too was a sorcerer."
Merlin instinctively glanced about the room. That word was not one to be thrown around lightly. It was a word that got people killed. Like your grandmother, he reminded himself, feeling gloomy.
And a sorcerer was something that Merlin most definitely was not.
He swallowed, and when next he spoke, he could not help but lower his voice. "You're saying I get better at controlling it?"
"Indeed, you do. In time. But until then, I'm sure I don't need to tell you how dangerous it is to use magic in Camelot."
"I know," said Merlin. "Arthur's already given me that lecture."
Gaius straightened, frowning and blinking in confusion. "Arthur has?"
"Yes," said Merlin. He scratched the side of his cheek in some embarrassment. "I may have accidentally tossed him through the air when I first met him."
"Merlin!"
"I thought it was in self defense!" he protested. "How was I supposed to know he was the king of Camelot?"
The old man appeared winded. "The king knows you have magic?" he repeated. Merlin nodded. "And still he wishes you to remain in Camelot?"
"I'm not sure about that," replied Merlin with a shrug. "He seemed fairly bothered by it, mentioned wanting to sack me as soon as I was my proper age again, but he did say he wouldn't have me executed, seeing as how my magic is, in His Royal Majesty's words, 'worthless'." Thinking about that conversation, Merlin's ire revived. His magic was, honestly, often quite worthless, but it was his, his one talent, and insulting it was the same as insulting his own character. Of course, Arthur had done that, too. "He said he won't arrest me so long as I don't use it, anyway."
"And I suppose Gwaine is also privy to this knowledge?" said the physician breathlessly.
"Yes, thank the gods!" said Merlin. "At least he appreciates it. You know, I quite like Gwaine. Was he really his best friend?"
"His?"
"Erm, the other me. The older me."
By the way Gaius pinched his mouth, thinking about the present Merlin and the Merlin before as two different people did not sit well with him. But Merlin had decided it was the only way to stay sane in this situation. How could that other Merlin be him, really, when he couldn't claim any of his memories or actions? That was someone else's life.
"Yes, I would say Gwaine was the closest friend you, er, he had. And yet Merlin always regretted being unable to share his secret with the knight. I'm sure without that barrier, things can only be more amiable between you two."
"So, it's really true that no one knew about his magic, even though he lived here for six years?"
Gaius nodded soberly. "No one, outside of myself and one other knight… the most noble of his peers, a man by the name of Lancelot. Regrettably… he died several years ago."
Merlin was less interested in this dead knight than he was in the mystery of his older self. "How did Older Me keep it a secret so well?"
The physician chuckled. "That, my boy, is something I will never understand, considering his wanton and reckless use of his powers. Although, it helped that no one would have believed in the possibility of his having magic. Indeed, he kept his head down and played the part of 'fool' for a reason…"
Gaius started. "Here I am speaking about you as though you're dead. No, I don't think it helps to think of you as two separate people, as you seem to be attempting to do. Merlin, you may not like this idea, but he is you, as you are he."
Merlin shook his head. "I don't have to be."
"No," Gaius agreed. "As I said last night, this is a second chance at your life. Your choices do not have to be the ones you made before - in fact, such a thing would be impossible. Just know that the Merlin you will hear about from the people of Camelot is the man you might have grown up to be, had your circumstances been different. There is no need to reject him so."
Merlin said nothing, and the physician sighed. "Back to the topic of your magic. Once, yes, you played the part of the fool, and any strange circumstances surrounding you or King Arthur were brushed off as coincidence or good luck. Now that Arthur knows of your powers, he will be looking for the smallest of oddities, waiting for an excuse to blame it on you. It is a good sign that you have not already been thrown in prison, but don't be mistaken, Merlin - it is more dangerous for you in Camelot now than it ever has been. Be careful."
At that moment, the door to the chambers opened and Gwaine strode in, Pierre running in circles around his feet and yapping.
"Wash your face, Merlin! It's time to see Camelot."
Arthur took his lunch in his chambers, weary after a long morning of meetings. In the small council room with the ministers of trade and agriculture and their various aristocratic allies, there had been much debate over whether Camelot, with her plentiful harvests the past year, ought to extend some of that bounty to the kingdom of Mercia, who had suffered from a drought and the long winter. Arthur was all for helping their ally, as such aid could only strengthen their bond and promise a returned favor in the future. However, not every member of his council agreed.
So the meeting had run for several hours and ended, grumbling, with the agreement on a compromise. Camelot would aid Mercia - but for a price, to be determined in future correspondences with the allied kingdom. Arthur saw the logic in that. Even though Camelot had a bounty to give, the impression it would make in the Five Kingdoms was that his land gave handouts to all who asked. If then denied, it would cause bitter feelings among the other rulers and give the opposite impression, that Camelot favored Mercia above all others. He only hoped that King Bayard would not take their demands the wrong way.
Also in his morning had been a meeting with the Knights of the Round Table, to discuss the results of the failed search for Morgana. The location was marked on a map and the topic of the necklace explored with much disquietude. Some suggested that the trap was a simple, malicious thing, set for anyone who happened to stumble into one of Morgana's hideouts, while others shared Arthur's belief that she had known of their coming and set the trap specifically for the king. Why else would the curse have been placed on an object with such obvious sentimental value for him?
Well, wouldn't burglars jump at the chance to sell such fine jewels? had suggested Sir Bedivere.
There was no consensus, and the whole affair left the knights feeling disturbed.
What of Merlin? Elyan had finally asked. The other knights nodded their heads; clearly they had been waiting for someone of their number to bring it up.
The king had sighed, wishing more than anything that he wouldn't have to discuss this. Another reason for his exhaustion was that the conclusion Gaius gave him - irreversible - had haunted him through the night, as though the words were branded upon his mind. In his core, he knew that Gaius spoke the truth, but the rest of his consciousness balked at it.
He could not help but feel as if Merlin had just died.
He isn't gone, sire… merely hasn't grown up yet.
Neither Gaius nor Gwaine seemed to realize, though, that Merlin was gone. The part of Merlin that mattered the most, the years he had spent at Arthur's side, the memories they made together and the bond of loyalty they had forged, were gone, irreversibly. He would never have the chance to thank his manservant for saving his life yet again, nor be able to sit the idiot down for a long and frank discussion of his magic. All of their experiences had been cut short, without warning, and Arthur was left with nothing but a distorted shadow of his manservant, who was altogether a stranger.
The sense of loss was bitter and poignant, and it left an ache in Arthur's breast that he had no means of dealing with.
He had ordered Gaius to fix Merlin by whatever means necessary, but Arthur could never hold his physician to the impossible. He would have to rely on his physician to be percipient and tactful enough to dismiss Arthur's command as a momentary lack of judgement.
For his knights, Arthur had schooled his expression, as he often did in his role as king, and given them the details in a steady, if somewhat detached, voice. He did not mention Merlin's magic, but he did tell his knights the unfortunate discovery of the night before. They would have found out sooner or later.
And so, he had said, over their distressed murmuring, please do your best to welcome him into Camelot. Know that Merlin will look upon you as strangers, even as he once looked upon you as friends. Those memories are gone, and they are gone forever. But please understand that to him, this is all very frightening, and he needs our support now more than ever.
Had those words been hollow? Arthur had felt numb, even as they left his lips. But they had been what his knights needed to hear, and they had responded with a chorus of agreements and oaths to never abandon a comrade in a time of need.
Would they have responded in the same way, had they known Merlin's secret?
Arthur put down his silverware, and his tray was swept up from his desk by the nimble, meticulously well-groomed fingers of the servant George.
"What else might I do for you, sire?"
Arthur waved an impatient hand. "That will be all."
"Shall I-"
"I said that's all. Go find a job elsewhere in the castle. I'm sure brassware is in need of polishing somewhere. I'll send for you if I need you."
George bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Once the door had closed behind the utterly efficient servant, Arthur bowed his head and stared at the top of his desk.
He stayed that way for a long time.
Their first stop was at the kennels, to drop off an increasingly energetic young pup. The handlers seemed bewildered at the new addition, especially upon learning that the dog wasn't just named after Pierre, it was Pierre.
"I guess we'll be getting a lot of use out of this one," stammered one of the handlers.
"I guess you will," replied Gwaine cheerily, clapping the smaller man on the back.
As they turned to leave, Merlin heard the other handler whisper, "It will die someday… won't it?"
Merlin knew he should feel excited, being led on a personal tour of Camelot by one of its knights, but it was hard to muster any positive feelings after his somewhat ominous chat with Gaius over lunch. On the one hand, it was good to know he had someone with whom he could talk about his magic - an ex-sorcerer, no less! However, he was tired of being told how dangerous his magic was, as though he did not already know it. Despite what the king thought, he wasn't an idiot.
Older Merlin had used the magic in Camelot all the time, from how Gaius put it. But was the price having everyone look down on him as a fool? No wonder Arthur thought of him as worthless, and no wonder he seemed to have so many friends. After all, it was easy to be friends with a fool.
Merlin glanced at the knight strolling beside him in the corridor, rambling on about the rooms they were passing, and wondered if that was how Gwaine saw him, too.
"...and I get the distinct impression that you, my friend, are not paying attention to a word I am saying."
Merlin blinked and looked bashfully at the floor. "Sorry, Gwaine. I have a lot on my mind."
Gwaine sighed, nodded, and wordlessly gestured Merlin to follow him. The knight led him a few minutes' walk to an open-air corridor that crossed the northern side of the courtyard. There he sat on the stone banister and patted the spot beside him. Cautious of the long fall, Merlin climbed onto the banister as well.
Below them in the courtyard, the members of the citadel were busy with everyday tasks. Servants drew water from the well, horse grooms led mounts to and from the stables, knights in light mail traveled in a group, laughing heartily as they made their way, perhaps, to the training grounds. There were fashionably dressed ladies of the court being trailed by handmaidens as they returned from a jaunt into the lower town, and there were peasants being directed by guards to the proper chambers for their particular needs. Camelot was a huge thoroughfare, and Merlin was reminded of the many important things that went on here. Wars were waged, criminals brought to justice, taxes levied, and sorcerers tried and burned. This might as well have been the center of the whole world.
"What do you think of Camelot so far?" asked Gwaine, who was similarly watching the crowds below.
"Honestly, I have no idea," said Merlin. "It's so big. I don't even know what to think."
"It's big, but you will have a lot of allies here. You should have heard the princess this morning with the Round Table. He gave quite a speech on your behalf."
"Arthur did? Wait, what's a round table to do with any of this?"
Gwaine laughed. "I forgot, you don't even know what the Round Table is! Well, that definitely affords a visit. In short, the Round Table is a tradition Arthur started after a battle with Morgana and her sister Morgause, in which they captured Camelot and took King Uther captive. In fact, you and I sat at the first Round Table, in the Castle of the Ancient Kings. It's a ruddy lovely thing, when you think about it. You see, the table is round so that-"
"No one person holds more importance than another," finished Merlin, slightly awed. Awed that such a thing could exist in a place like Camelot, and awed that a person like Arthur, who seemed to really enjoy his lofty position as king, would implement it.
"Exactly! As always, you catch on quick."
"I do?"
"Merlin," drawled Gwaine, draping an arm over his shoulders. "It's one of the reasons I like you so much. You're one of the bloody cleverest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
With that comment, Merlin began to like Gwaine more than ever. But he couldn't help adding, bitterly, "Arthur wouldn't have people think so."
"The whole 'idiot', 'imbecile', 'moron' thing?" Gwaine snorted. "He has to call you something, when the older you walked around addressing him as 'cabbage head', 'clotpole', and 'prat' every waking moment."
"I did that?" asked Merlin in disbelief. He pointed at his chest. "Me? To the king?"
"To be fair, you were a pretty shoddy manservant," continued Gwaine. "You were constantly tripping over your own feet and dropping things, scaring off game on hunts, and I think you forgot to wake him up half the time and brought him his breakfast cold and nibbled-on, if the stories are right."
Merlin made a face and nodded. Honestly, that sounded just like something he would do.
"Why in the world did he keep me on?"
"Because you were the only one in this whole bloody kingdom that treated him like a person, instead of a prince. And you continued to be, until he found me and his Gwen."
A thought began to nag at Merlin, and it made him feel terribly ashamed. "Was… was he just teasing me the last few days?"
"I wouldn't worry about it too much," said Gwaine. He shrugged and dug a fingernail between two of his teeth. "A dose of humility now and then is good for the king. Besides, it's his fault you're in this mess in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
"Apparently you told him that the necklace was a trap - flat out told him - and he ignored you. I, for one, am still pissed at him for that, and you should be, too."
Merlin was quiet for a minute as he mulled that over. Finally, he asked, "What did he say at the speech this morning?"
"Oh, something like, 'Please welcome Merlin to Camelot, even though he doesn't remember any of you, because he's scared and needs us now more than ever'. There's the gist of it, anyway."
The shame returned tenfold. "I think I've been treating him unfairly. I think I understand why he - why he said what he did last night."
"No, don't you think that way," said Gwaine, squeezing Merlin's shoulders. "Don't go making excuses for him, like you always do - yes!" he said at Merlin's look of surprise. "This is precisely what the older you would have done, too. And I'm sick of it, you always being on his side, when he has done exactly nothing to deserve it. This time, Merlin, it's he who needs to apologize. And I say until he has, you must continue to give him the cold shoulder. You understand?"
"But even my mother said-"
"Merlin, I absolutely adore Hunith, I do, but whatever she might have told you about trying to get along with Arthur is bullcrap. You need to do what you've always done, and treat everyone around you the way you believe they deserve to be treated. And if Arthur is being a prat, you need to treat him like a prat until he gets his act together."
Merlin sighed, deciding this was a battle he was not going to win. "Fine. As you say, Gwaine."
"Good," said the knight, clapping his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "So, have we addressed everything on your mind?"
"Um, for the most part…" Despite how much he liked Gwaine and how nonchalant Gwaine had acted toward his magic, he did not feel prepared to talk about his powers with the man or what role they should play here. At the end of the day, Sir Gwaine was a knight of Camelot, and Merlin was not sure how he would respond to Merlin's ire toward the kingdom's single most important law - no magic.
"Brilliant. Then are you ready to see the Round Table?"
Gwaine brought Merlin back to the physician's chambers that evening after a rather boisterous dinner with the Knights of the Round Table, a group of men who had all wrestled griffins with their bare hands, if their stories had any credence. Merlin felt distinctly out of place among the mead-loving, musclebound heroes, but if they felt he didn't belong there, none showed it. Each and every knight had greeted him with a bear hug that lifted him from his feet and made his ribs creak. Then had begun a competition of sorts to introduce themselves to Merlin with the wildest tale:
"There was the time I saved the village of Indswich from a pack of hellhounds, single-handedly!"
"Get off it, Elyan, you did no such thing!"
"If I remember right, it was Sirs Bedivere and Kay who fought the things, while you were carrying buckets to put out the fires!"
"But don't forget when I wrestled wyverns in the Perilous Lands!"
"Rubbish, rubbish!"
Merlin could do nothing but laugh at their antics and soon made a game of trying to remember all of their names. He had never once been in the company of such good-natured people, and despite his initial reservations and general feelings of overwhelmedness, he was soon feeling at home amongst them.
About an hour into the meal, however, the conversation took an uncomfortable turn, onto the subject of him. The other Merlin.
"But if any of us here is a real hero," said Sir Elyan, who was rather drunk by this point, "it's Merlin."
There was a chorus of cheers and mugs being clanged together.
"Braver than any of us knights, really," agreed Sir Lamorak. "Do you remember the time King Arthur - or I suppose he was Prince Arthur at the time - rode out against the Great Dragon, with Merlin at his side? Forget the guards, forget the knights, and just remember that his manservant was brave enough to ride out with him to meet certain death."
"Or the time he jumped in front of that damned spirit, what was it called?" Sir Leon snapped his fingers as he searched for the name. "The Dorocha. Their touch was lethal, and already they had killed dozens of people. Yet Merlin threw himself in its path to save the prince."
"And survived!" boomed Sir Percival, who, also now drunk, had become quite loud.
Another round of cheers.
Gwaine, seeing Merlin's look of discomfort at receiving praise for things he had never done, came to his rescue. "Lads, lads, Merlin doesn't want to hear about those things. He wants to get to know us, the knights. Besides, we'll swell his head with all this talk of hero nonsense. At least give the boy a chance to prove himself before we start singing his praises."
Merlin smiled weakly at the knight, and Gwaine saluted with his mug before draining its whole contents.
"All we're trying to say, Merlin," said Sir Elyan, slurring his words, "is that you… you are our role model. Hell, half of us wouldn't be here at this round table-" he looked around himself at the tavern they occupied "-square tables, if not for you. That is to say, if you need anything, at all, ever, we are here for you."
"Hear hear!"
"Thank you," Merlin stammered, feeling his face turn red up to his ears. "I don't know what to say. I don't think I deserve any of this."
Sir Leon placed a firm hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Though you may not remember it, you, Merlin, are the most noble of us all."
"After Lancelot, you mean," said Gwaine.
"Naturally," replied Sir Leon. "But you are noble, and I don't believe that grew from nowhere. If the Merlin we knew was noble, it is only because you, too, are noble in your heart. Now it is our honor to meet you again and to help you on your journey, wherever it may lead you."
"Hear hear!"
And so it was that Merlin, exhausted, stumbled back up the stairs into Gaius's chambers, too many thoughts whirling around his head for him to process. No one in his life, besides his mother and Will, had ever believed so strongly in him - in fact, his whole life it had been the opposite. The majority of his village had either completely ignored him or villainized him because of the freakish accidents surrounding him; that, and the fact that he was a bastard child. He was used to being disliked by everyone around him and had expected it to continue for his whole life.
Just what had his older self done to gather so many friends? Thrown himself into the line of fire at every possible chance, obviously, like some bloody lunatic. Was that what it took?
Would he let them down, if he couldn't live up to the older Merlin? Would they come to realize they had put their faith in the wrong person and abandon him? He had already made an enemy of the king, despite Arthur probably being the one most important ally he could have in all of Camelot.
Or had he made an enemy? Even after insulting the king in every manner possible, Arthur Pendragon had still chosen not to persecute him because of his magic and had even rallied the Knights of the Round Table, the greatest heroes in the land, to take care of him. Did that mean the king was still angry at him, or not?
Groaning with frustration, Merlin slumped down at the table across from Gaius and buried his head in his arms.
"Merlin!" said the physician. "Whatever is the matter?"
Merlin thread his fingers through his hair and tugged at it. "I don't know, Gaius… It's just, one minute I'm doing nothing but fishing the creek with my friend in Ealdor, a nobody, a peasant, and the next thing I know, I'm - I'm drinking with knights and exploring a castle, and the king of Camelot is protecting the secret of my magic, and apparently I'm supposed to be this really amazing person, but the me right now has failed utterly at that, and-" He groaned again and banged his forehead on the table.
He listened to the physician grunt as he hauled himself to his feet and, a few seconds later, felt Gaius join him on the bench. The man's soothing hand rested on his back, warm and steady.
"Do you know who you remind me of?" said Gaius. Merlin said nothing but tilted his head to show he was listening. "Yourself, six years ago, after I had to rescue you from the dungeons."
Merlin sat up. "Wait, what?"
Gaius chuckled. "Oh yes. Did you know that on your second day in Camelot, Arthur had you put in the stocks for calling him 'an ass', and the very next day you were thrown into the dungeons after getting into a fight with him?"
Merlin stared at him, wide-eyed. Apparently his older self and Arthur had not gotten along well on their first meeting, either.
"Well, once I had retrieved you and brought you back here to tend to your injuries, I remember you were worrying about some very similar things. Calling yourself a 'nothing' and a 'nobody'. And even after six years, you continued to tell me of your doubts, despite everything you had accomplished. Can you imagine - the manservant who had befriended most of the royal court doubting himself?"
Merlin shook his head, unsure of what to say.
"The reason that you have so many people who care about you, Merlin, is that in every situation, you are no one but yourself. While you are here, you do not need to try to be the Merlin people will tell you about. Simply do as your heart tells you, my boy, and I am certain you will not be led astray."
Merlin offered a small smile, and he wondered if being with Gaius was what it was like to be with one's father. "Thank you, Gaius."
"You are welcome, Merlin."
As Gaius stood to return to the book he had been reading when Merlin came in, Merlin asked another question that had been bothering him all day. "If I stay in Camelot, do I have to continue to be King Arthur's manservant?"
Gaius seemed taken aback. "Well, no, I don't suppose you do… When you first came to Camelot, it was originally to be my assistant, until Uther had you working for Arthur. Even then, you have been assisting me all of these years. Or… did you have something else in mind?"
Merlin frowned. "I'm not sure… I think I just don't… want to be someone's servant. I want to be my own person."
The physician gave him a look that Merlin could not comprehend and acted as though he were hesitant to say something more. Eventually, Gaius shook his head and said, "There is no need to decide just yet, my boy. Whatever you do decide, let it be true to your heart."
After that, Gaius wished Merlin goodnight and herded him to bed.
A/N: Well, not a terrible lot actually happens in this chapter, but it has its good moments. I especially enjoyed the bits with Pierre and writing the scene with the knights.
Next time, there will be some more eminent developments. WINK WINK.
Thanks to: Krista Perry, Foxprints, laily .spenstar, Taz, Jaime Wyrmroe, PadrePedro, Gingeraffealene, cg037, ThePrinceHasArrived, east231, Manateesrock33, and JustAnotherSlytherinFangirl for your reviews! (And my apologies to laily .spenstar - for some reason, I can't punctuate your penname correctly without the website deleting it entirely.)
See you on December 26th! Happy holidays!