notes:
This is not a Merthur fic. It's pre-slash friendly, meaning neither Arthur nor Merlin are in a relationship. Rated M for dark themes/violence.
This angsty action/adventure story is set in a dark-ish AU. Please note that I remixed canon quite a bit in this fic, meaning the backgrounds of a few characters have been slightly adjusted or changed completely, character motivations might divert severely from canon, and many things that are true in the show may not be true in this fic. I have also shamelessly recycled, warped, transformed, etc. actual dialogue from the show, because that's always so much fun to do.
This fic is a labor of love, a product of sleepness nights, and a form of catharsis to get rid of all my angsty Merlin feelings. I am extremely excited about this story and wish you all happy reading! 3
cross-posted to Ao3
Camelot reeked of imminent death the day Merlin arrived.
Though Merlin had yet to learn to associate the hurried steps, guarded expressions and meaningful glances in the street with the looming execution of yet another sorcerer, the thick smell of smoke was tangible evidence of something ominous.
The fumes wafted even beyond the walls of the city, greeting Merlin as he made to enter through the main gate. He wrinkled his nose and had to clear his throat.
His mother had warned him that he might be frisked upon entering Camelot, but the guards, too busy with inspecting a travelling merchant's cart, seemed to pay no attention to a mere peasant boy with a light pack on his back.
"And what is this, man?" one of the burly watchmen said suspiciously. He had quit rummaging through the boxes on the merchant's wagon in favour of holding up his find.
Merlin glanced at the object in question as he passed by. It seemed inconspicuous enough: a knife with a smooth wooden handle and a slightly crooked blade.
"A knife, sir," the merchant replied nervously.
"A knife, you say?" replied the guard, his voice intense. "To me, it looks like a boline. A sorcerer's blade!"
The merchant blanched. "G-good sir," he stammered. "I— I'd never…"
"What are you looking at, boy?" Merlin jumped as another guard, seemingly out of nowhere, approached him with a glare. So he was to be frisked after all. "State your business, lad!"
"I, um, g'day, sir," Merlin replied hastily. "I'm to assist the court physician Gaius." He clumsily started to reach for his back to get to his pack, his hands bumping into the bedroll that was attached. "Here, I've got a letter – somewhere, I've got it – so I can prove…"
But the guard rolled his eyes at him and waved him off. "Move on!"
Merlin nodded, not daring another glance at the poor merchant whose voice had gone high-pitched as the interrogation continued, and stepped into the city. The smell of smoke intensified as he walked on.
Though Merlin had travelled through quite a few towns on his way from Ealdor, nothing quite compared to the sight that awaited him. He passed row after row of stone-build, sturdy houses with well-thatched roofs. The main street, and several of the smaller ones branching into smaller alleyways, were paved and orderly, debris having been swept to the sides. The people looked well-fed, neatly dressed and clean as opposed to most country folk he had encountered in the past weeks.
Though, Merlin had to admit, he had expected more of them. He couldn't have seen more than five or six people so far. Was this not the direct route? He could see the castle clearly, right on top of the hill.
When he spotted a young boy sitting on a wall nearby, Merlin approached him.
"Tell me, please, is this the quickest way to the castle?"
"Aye. You here to watch the burnin'?"
Merlin blinked. "Um."
The boy hopped off the wall. Merlin had thought him but five or six summers old but upon approach he looked older, almost a youth, with thick black hair and light blue eyes.
"Not from these parts, eh?" the boy added, eyeing him curiously. "There's goin' to be an execution. Got another one of 'em sorcerers!"
Realisation dawned and Merlin swallowed.
"Thank you," he said and quickly moved on.
His mother had warned him, of course. Living right at the border, the people of Ealdor were aware that magic was not welcome in King Uther's realm. Tales and rumours, however, were one thing. Being a witness…
The smell of smoke, having irked him before, seemed to settle heavily in his throat and Merlin had to cough once, twice as he followed the pungent air. He suppressed an urge to cover his face with his neckerchief.
A curve in the street, then he saw it: the drawbridge leading to the castle.
And, on a stretch of dirt just outside the thick stone walls, a crowd. Here then were the people Merlin had missed in the streets below. Men, women, even children of all stations had gathered for the spectacle. They spoke little and yet, there was an undeniable buzz in the air.
Just outside the castle, a pyre had been set up in front of a podium. Though it was not yet lit, four fire bowls were placed around it and they were already brightly ablaze, the source of the thick smoke creeping through the city streets.
Merlin came to stand at the edge of the crowd, just as a group of guards was approaching. They were marching in unison. Only on a second look, Merlin spotted the man in dirty peasant clothes walking in between them, his arms bound and his head hung.
Merlin's heart jumped. The sorcerer. There was nothing about him that was marking him as such. He did not look any less a regular peasant than Merlin himself.
"Make way!" one of the guards shouted, though the crowd had already started to open up a pathway. "Make way, I said!"
It was a sunny day in Camelot, yet Merlin shivered as he watched the guards heave the prisoner onto the pyre, securing him tightly with ropes and raising the post. The man did not put up a fight, did not use his magic to escape like Merlin might have in his stead.
Suddenly, the crowd's already muted murmurs hushed. Two more guards had appeared, trailing a man in a billowing, finely embellished cloak. His serious face was framed by dark, chin-length hair. Without a glance at the pyre or the crowd, the noble – for this was clearly who he was – stepped up onto the podium. An armchair had been prepared, but the man chose to stand and he turned to face the crowd, his guards standing on his left and right.
Dead silence greeted him.
"Let this serve as a lesson to all," the man finally drawled. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. Pursuant to the laws of Camelot decreed by the king, Uther Pendragon, such practices are banned on penalty of death!"
The man turned towards the pyre. "I, Lord Agravaine de Bois, chancellor of the realm and advisor to the king, shall be witness of this execution and declare this sentence lawful and just."
Agravaine waved meaningfully at the guards below but a screech halted the proceedings.
"Just?" An old woman with messy white hair had stepped out of the crowd. "You take my only son, cast him into the fire and call that justice?"
Merlin watched the prisoner's head snap up. He stared at the woman, wide-eyed and panicked. Then he shouted, desperation in his voice: "Mother! Don't be foolish! Flee!"
"Silence!" Agravaine boomed, but the woman paid his order no heed.
"Where is the king? Where is this Uther Pendragon, who declared such a law yet is too much of a coward to face its consequences!"
"This is treason!" Agravaine bellowed. "Seize her!"
"Mark my words, Camelot! Emrys may soon rise, but Uther will have a taste of my revenge before that!"
The guards nearly got to her, but before they could grasp her, the woman disappeared in a whirl of wind and smoke.
The crowd gasped at the sudden display of magic, retreating from the spot in which the sorceress had stood only seconds before.
Agravaine took only a moment to erase the fury at the woman's escape from his face. "Good people of Camelot! Though we did not need more proof of this man's wickedness, his own mother has just proven that the evil of magic runs deeply in this family's veins." He nodded regally. "Burn him."
Merlin knew he should leave but his feet were glued to the ground and he watched, wide-eyed, as the guards lit their torches at the fire bowls and methodically set the pyre aflame. He was still expecting the man to call upon his powers, vanish himself like his mother had.
Only the first, anguished screams shook Merlin from his stupor of denial and he stumbled away from the crowd and towards the gates of the castle, unshed tears and smoke stinging in his eyes.
A guard at the drawbridge stopped him. "Who are you? State your business if you want to enter the citadel!"
Screams were still ringing out behind him when Merlin rummaged through his pack, showed his letter and was allowed to pass, a stench unlike anything Merlin had ever smelled before filling his nose.
That stink of burnt human flesh would follow him well into his first night at Camelot. And in his nightmares, just above the sound of Thomas Collins' agony, Merlin could hear a deep, rumbling voice call out his name.
"I got you water. You didn't wash last night."
Merlin, rubbing at his tired eyes after restless hours, nodded gratefully and cleaned his face and hands, then settled down to have breakfast with Gaius. He carefully eyed the old man as he filled Merlin's bowl. If the physician had second thoughts about having accepted a sorcerer into his home, he certainly didn't show it now.
The sight of watery porridge did little for Merlin's already diminished appetite and he stirred aimlessly with his spoon, his eyes wandering.
"My humble fare not to your liking?" Gaius raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him from across the table.
Merlin shook his head. "Sorry. Just didn't sleep well."
Gaius looked at him, clearly waiting.
"They just… they burnt that man. Burnt him alive, Gaius."
Gaius nodded, but when he spoke his voice was much quieter than before: "You're worried."
Merlin swallowed. "My mother shouldn't have sent me here. She can't have known how bad it is," he said, matching Gaius' secretive tone.
"Perhaps, but from Hunith's letters, I have gathered there was no one else to turn to."
Memories flashed past Merlin: His mother, trying to make ends meet as best as she could. Suspicious, jealous glances at Merlin's miraculous skill at hunting squirrels, foraging mushrooms, repairing the hut. Confrontations about his mishaps. Accusations, and Will finding out.
"I wasn't safe there anymore," Merlin said vaguely.
"Then you will have to stay and be careful. Very careful, Merlin. Reckless magic like you performed yesterday will get you killed."
"I used it to save you!" Merlin argued.
A pointed look. "Eat!"
Merlin forced a few spoons of porridge past the lump in his throat. "Who is Lord Agravaine? He was there, at the execution. I've never heard of him."
"The chancellor of Camelot and advisor to the king," Gaius explained patiently. "Say, young Merlin, what do you know of Camelot?"
"Not much. Magic is outlawed and its users killed," Merlin said with a hint of a tremble. "Uther Pendragon, the king, decreed it so."
"That's all true. What of his son?" Merlin shrugged and Gaius continued with a slight shake of his head: "The prince: Arthur. The son of King Uther and the late queen, Ygraine de Bois. She was Lord Agravaine's younger sister."
"So he's the king's brother-in-law."
"Indeed. Ever since Ygraine's death, the king has become more and more," Gaius cleared his throat, "unwell. Because of this, Lord Agravaine has stepped up to help with the kingdom's affairs."
"Become unwell," Merlin echoed Gaius' words. "What do you mean by that?"
Gaius shook his head, glanced at the door. Merlin followed his gaze, but there was nothing there.
"You'd do well not to speak of it outside these chambers. Only remember this: Uther might be king, but it is Agravaine who wields true authority here." Gaius hesitated. "He follows Uther's law to the letter: all magic users must be killed. Preferably burnt. To annihilate any trace of magic, I believe, is the reasoning. Though personally, I think Lord Agravaine rather enjoys the spectacle."
Merlin averted his gaze, fervently wishing he could forget what he had witnessed. "I see."
"You will, in time. Now, eat up, then you can help me prepare some ointments and elixirs – I need to deliver them today."
"I can do that for you," Merlin offered. A busy day might get his mind off things. "The deliveries, I mean."
But Gaius shook his head, though his knees creaked with age when he rose from his chair himself. "You might get yourself into trouble. First, you must learn the rules of this place. Let us talk more tonight." He raised both eyebrows in emphasis: "Most importantly, keep your head down!" Then, hushed: "And absolutely no magic!"
Though he knew Gaius would have preferred for him to stay put, Merlin left the physician's chambers once the man had gone to make his deliveries and rounds. There were more herbs to grind and mushrooms to dice, but the monotonous work did little to keep away memories of anguished screaming and singeing flesh.
Merlin walked down the stairs of the tower and through a door that led right into the courtyard of the citadel. He took a moment to regard his new surroundings. Could he ever feel comfortable among these imposing buildings?
Curiously, he watched the going-ons. There were servants busying themselves with unloading carts or sweeping the stairs whilst people in the finer clothing of nobility strode past purposefully. Pairs of red-clad guards patrolled and observed the bustle with watchful eyes.
There was a certain grimness to it. In Ealdor, the women would sing songs as they worked in the fields, spun wool or churned butter, while young men would always share some silly or lewd tale as they laboured. Here, there were hardly any smiles, certainly no jokes and laughs, and the servants seemed to be doing exactly what Gaius had told Merlin to do: keeping their heads down. Literally. In fact, Merlin mused, he'd never seen people so purposefully keep their gaze on the floor or on the task at hand at all times.
"Move, boy! What are you staring at?"
A pinch-faced stablehand glared at Merlin and the two horses he was leading huffed and shook their heads, dancing slightly in place before falling back into line.
Merlin apologised, hurriedly stepped aside and suddenly noticed a maid nearby throwing him a strange look as she passed him.
And she wasn't the only one. This inconsequential event seemed to be of interest to everyone nearby. Some servants were now mustering him outright, momentarily abandoning their quiet focus on their tasks. Others were more subtle, with a set of curious or suspicious eyes flickering towards him. Even two of the guards seemed to have noticed the incident and looked over.
Merlin shivered. Unnerved by the sudden attention, he turned to leave the citadel. Perhaps Gaius had been right not to send him out for deliveries. Suddenly, there was a feel to this place he did not like.
His head turned to avoid looking at the remnants of the pyre, Merlin carefully retraced yesterday's steps to return to the lower parts of Camelot. He'd get familiar with this city, he decided. He should know his way around if he was to stay.
As he walked, he noticed a slightly familiar shape leaning against a wooden post. The boy he had talked to yesterday, he realised. The kid had already noticed him, giving a slight wave, beckoning him close.
"Good morning," Merlin greeted him with a friendly smile. It would be nice to make a new friend.
"Enjoyed the fire?" the boy returned bluntly.
Merlin stared at him. "How could one enjoy such a terrible thing?"
"Mhm. You really aren't from 'round here, eh?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Oh, no reason." He grinned. "Where'd you stay last night?"
"I've come to live with Gaius, the court physician."
"S'that so? Interesting."
"Is it?"
The boy smirked. Merlin offered him a hand.
"I'm Merlin," he said. The boy pointedly crossed his arms and Merlin slowly lowered his hand, trying not to feel snubbed.
"Well, Merlin," he replied. "See ya!"
He turned and quickly vanished into the shadow of an alleyway. Merlin looked after him, confused.
He decided not talk to anybody else as he walked through Camelot and tried to memorise the streets, the way to the market and to the city gates. But his neck prickled every so often and he turned, searching for – well, he didn't quite know, only that he never saw it.
Finally, he made his way back to the castle when the sun told him noon was fast approaching. He had circled the hill the castle had been built on and now came from another direction.
He walked past some training grounds. Knights in full armour were exercising, sweating under the heat of the late summer sun. Merlin slowed down at the fence to watch. There was something graceful about the way the knights fought, he thought, a dance of swords and shields.
"… not completely useless, at least you're good for target practice, Morris!" said a snide voice behind him.
Merlin turned. A man was swiftly approaching the training grounds. He was perhaps two or three years older than Merlin, with blond hair and an arrogant smile, flanked by two other muscular knights and trailed by a miserable-looking servant – Morris, most likely. The boy looked shaken, with a damp-looking cut on his forehead and a fresh bruise forming around his right eye. The target in his hands, covered in cuts and still pierced by two daggers, gave Merlin an idea of what might have transpired and he frowned.
At that very moment, the leader of the group noticed Merlin's stare and looked back at him in contempt, wrinkling his nose.
"What's this then? Are they letting any stinking peasant watch the training these days?" he complained.
Merlin took an instant dislike to the man, but after what Gaius had told him, he wasn't stupid enough to provoke a knight of Camelot. Keep your head down.
"I mean no harm, my friend," Merlin replied hastily, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
The knights shifted dangerously and Merlin didn't miss the incredulous look the servant boy threw him.
"Do we know each other?" asked the leader with narrowing eyes. Merlin instantly regretted having spoken at all.
"No."
"Yet you called me 'friend'."
"That was my mistake. I'll leave"
The man's gaze hardened. "Don't play the idiot now. Your provocation was duly noted. By all means, do leave. But tell my uncle he doesn't need to watch my every step! I'm being a good little boy and following my schedule to the letter."
Merlin blinked. "I— I don't—"
"Are you deaf as well as dumb and incompetent?" the man insulted him, then turned towards his companions. "I swear, Agravaine needs to reconsider his recruitment process. Even my friend Morris here is more subtle than that."
"Sire, should I have him punished for his insolence?" the knight on the left asked, just as his other companion stepped forward: "Boy, if you value your life, leave!"
Merlin hurriedly did as he was told, only belatedly registering what the knight had said. Sire. As he walked, he turned his head, trying to catch another glimpse of the group. That man, he must have been—
"Merlin!"
Merlin cringed as he came to a sudden halt, only just stopping himself from colliding with Gaius. The physician glared at him. But instead of giving him a dressing down right here at the entrance to the citadel, he looked around, schooled his features, then hissed: "Follow me and don't say anything else."
Merlin trailed after him. The guards let them pass without question, nodding at Gaius. When they arrived at the physician's chambers, Gaius went straight for the door handle. The door sprung open willingly and he grimaced.
"Go in," he ordered and Merlin hurried to comply.
Gaius followed, closed the door, reached for a key on the wall Merlin had not noticed until now and locked the door from the inside. Merlin's heart sank when he remembered how he had simply left.
"Gaius, I—"
"Quiet."
Merlin watched anxiously as Gaius very carefully took in the state of the room. He looked behind a screen, briefly entered Merlin's newly-assigned chamber and walked up to the balcony he had fallen off only yesterday.
Finally, he returned, sat down heavily at the table and wordlessly pointed at a stool. Merlin sank down.
"You idiot," Gaius scolded him at once. "Why were you talking to the prince?"
Merlin swallowed when his suspicions were confirmed. "That was Arthur?"
"Prince Arthur, yes."
"But… he's an absolute ass!"
For a second, it looked like Gaius' eyes might leave their sockets. "Never," he finally said through gritted teeth, "repeat those words within a hundred miles of Camelot if you want to live another day."
Merlin watched in absolute silence as the physician took some deep breaths, unwilling to upset him any further.
"This is partly my fault." Gaius shook his head. "I have underestimated just how woefully unprepared you are for the realities of Camelot." He rubbed a hand over his face, then fixed Merlin with a stare. "This, you have to understand: These realms have changed in the past twenty years and are nothing like your quaint little Ealdor."
He paused, clearly collecting his thoughts for a lecture.
"In the beginnings of the Purge, neighbour turned against neighbour, friend against friend, brother against brother. Countless people burnt, and most of them had not a single magical bone in their body. Uther had created paranoia and hysteria, fanned by promises of gold and improved station for anyone who could name a sorcerer, a witch, a druid. The first three years especially were – well."
He briefly closed his eyes.
"Trust is something easily lost and almost never re-earned. The people of Camelot have learned this in the harshest way. And though we have since returned to trials and the burdens of evidence and proof, Agravaine's methods have not eased tensions in the slightest."
"His methods?" Merlin dared to interrupt.
"Manipulation. Deceit. Subterfuge. Spying. His agents are everywhere. If you can remember only one truth, let it be this: Anyone might betray you."
"Even you?" Merlin asked.
Gaius stared at him without a trace of humour and nodded gravely. "You're asking the right questions. Yes, even I. But your mother is dear to me, so I promise you this: Your secret is safe and I shall do my best to guide you in your quest to control and hide your remarkable powers."
Merlin swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Gaius."
"Listen carefully now. I have already sown the seeds and had the news spread that you are my nephew who has come to learn the trade of physician. I have some standing left in Uther's court. Family ties to me will give you what little protection I can offer, as well as the right to move freely about the castle and city. However, it is not enough to protect you from burning. Understood?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Don't be smart! Now, tell me exactly what has transpired between you and the prince."
Merlin did and watched as Gaius sank back into his chair. "It's worse than I feared, then. Not a full day has passed since your arrival and you have already made an enemy of the prince."
"An enemy?"
"Arthur openly loathes his uncle's attempts to control, sway and manipulate him. If he believes you one of his spies, he will move against you should the chance present itself. Given that you are a nobody compared to him, this shouldn't prove to be too difficult. I'm surprised he didn't have you thrown into the dungeons."
Merlin took a few moments to brood over all that had been said. "I should leave," he realised. "I'm not safe here, even without using magic. I must leave Camelot at once."
"And go where?" Gaius replied tiredly. "Be reasonable. Besides, Arthur could have you watched already. If he sees you move, he might send somebody to follow and interrogate you. You could be dead before ever reaching the nearest village. I'd never forgive myself."
Merlin felt desperation well up. "Then what?" he cried.
"As I have said before, you idiot child: Keep your head down! Observe, but don't stare. Don't approach anybody that does not absolutely need to be approached. Give short, precise replies if you must answer a question. Offer no information freely. Avoid lies and favour misdirection. Any word could and will be used against you. And no careless magic. Swear on your mother's life!"
"I can't always control it!" Merlin bristled.
"I know. This, we need to do something about. Follow me."
Gaius stood and entered Merlin's room. He closed the door behind Merlin firmly, waited a moment to listen, then dropped his voice to a whisper as he positioned himself against the door.
"The third floorboard to the left of your bed. Push firmly."
Merlin did and a secret compartment revealed itself. Inside lay a thick book with elaborate metal fittings, wrapped in fading brown leather.
"This book was given to me when I was your age and contains vast magical knowledge. It is the only one I have left, but it may be a start to channel and control your powers. I assume Hunith taught you to read?"
"And write, yes," Merlin replied, awed by what Gaius has entrusted to him.
"Good. Only read at night when you are absolutely certain you will not be disturbed. Lock your door if you must."
Merlin nodded and closed the floorboard.
"Gaius," he said, still kneeling on the floor. "Thank you. For everything."
Gaius gifted him with a warm, kind smile.
"You are welcome, my boy. Now, though, we must give you some lessons in etiquette."
"Etiquette?" Merlin asked and got up from the floor. "Why? What for?"
"Oh, haven't I told you? We're to attend a feast!"