TITLE: The Secrets We Hold
SUMMARY: What if the amulet Agravaine gave Uther did more than just reverse the effects of Merlin's healing spell, but also reversed all surrounding magic as well, including aging spells? PART ONE OF AU from 4x03 onwards.
WORDS: 1700
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Merlin, though I wish it did coz the finale ruined my Christmas in 2012 (as I was only 10 I wasn't allowed to stay up late to watch it on Christmas Eve, so I watched it the next day – not the best idea ahaha)
NOTES: Hiya! Merlin had always, and will always be my favourite fandom since it first came out, and now that I am exploring the world of fanfiction, I thought it was about time I wrote my own for Merlin!.
But anyway, the first part of the series is 99% complete and I'll be posting daily, so all that's left to do is say ENJOY!
(P.S: Don't worry, Torchwood fans, I won't forget my other series, I'm just taking a break from it and exploring other fandoms for a while, but I will be back!)
Chapter One: The Die is Cast
Entering Uther's chambers, Merlin sobered his internal grin from making Arthur carry him through the citadel, becoming serious once again. As much as he despised Uther's stance on many things, especially magic, seeing the still form of the King lying in bed, barely breathing made Merlin's heart clench somewhat.
He was doing this for mainly for Arthur, for both the King Arthur would become, but also for his friend, yet he couldn't help but remember why they were there in the first place.
Uther had saved Arthur's life; from a threat he'd hadn't expected, because for all of Uther's faults, the hundreds of lives he'd ruined for the sake of revenge, it had been clear from the start that he loved his son.
Merlin stepped away from Arthur approached the side of the bed, pulling the bottle from within the folds of his red robes and released exactly four drops of its contents into Uther's mouth before lighting the end of the bundle herbs. He closed his eyes, feeling for the power that had always been with him. He hadn't done a healing spell of this magnitude before, but it had to work. For Arthur.
"Wait!"
Merlin, still disguised as Dragoon, stood down looking at Arthur and hoping beyond anything he wasn't about to change his mind. "Is something wrong?"
"My father has taught me never to trust magic, and now I am using it to save him."
Merlin could see the internal conflict in Arthur's eyes. "Your own life has been saved using magic more times than you can possibly imagine."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
At the reply, Merlin realised how close to truth he'd risk getting if he elaborated any further, and hesitantly backtracked. "I merely mean to say that magic is all around you. It is woven into the very fabric of the world."
"How can I be sure it's the right thing to do?"
Merlin paused again. He didn't want to lie further, not when he didn't have to, and wondered what he could say that didn't reveal too much.
"I know you have suffered because of magic, as many have. But not all magic, and not all sorcerers are the same. I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope one day you'll see me in a different light."
Arthur remained silent for a beat as if mulling over his words, both still looking directly at each other until eventually Arthur nodded and stepped back.
Merlin turned back to Uther, and held the herbs up once more. The power he'd reached for was still shimmering under his skin and steeling himself, he let his eyes glowing, catching them on fire, before beginning to chant the words he'd leant earlier that morning, the power he released gradually increasing intensity.
"Efencume ætgædre, eala gastas cræftige: gestricie pis lic forod"1
His eyes flared once more as the spell completed and Merlin breathed heavily, worn but still hesitant. The spell would have taken strength even in his young form, but still he gave no further sign as he watched Uther in silence alongside Arthur, desperately hoping to see some signs of life.
For a tense moment, nothing happened, but then Uther shifted in bed, before his eyes snapped open and Arthur laughed shortly in joy.
"Father... Father?" Arthur reached to clench his father's hands as Uther made a weak smile.
"Arthur..."
Arthur laughs in relief again, and Merlin released another strained breath as his heart rate began to settle, allowing himself to smile. It slipped immediately as something teetering on the edge of his awareness made itself known, the power he could detect only increasing with strength each second.
"Something's wrong."
The words slipped from his mouth so quietly that Arthur made no reaction as a light emanated from under the covers on the bed, glowing softly at first but growing brighter until a dark red beam shot out and hit Merlin directly in the chest, his aged body protesting as he was thrown backwards against the curtained walls.
His vision went black at the impact, but against all odds considering the last few times he'd been thrown into walls; he didn't think he lost consciousness.
Squinting his eyes open, he found he couldn't move, his body aching more than before, but through his blurred sight, he saw Arthur bent with anguish over his father's prone form, and knew instantly without checking what that meant.
The King was dead.
Arthur looked up over the bed at him, his expression filled with both grief and anger as he stared down at him, but also panic that then hardened into the dark look of betrayal that Merlin recognised from when Arthur's discovered Morgana's treachery.
Dazed, he tried and failed to decipher Arthur's shouts through his ringing ears. The strong sense of betrayal meant this was more than just anger at Dragoon having killed Uther and his eyes flickered down, following Arthur's own gaze and he froze at the absence of his white beard that came with being aged over half a century.
That couldn't be right. He still couldn't even reverse the spell himself, relying on Gaius' potion to transform back to his younger body, but the evidence was in front of him. Or should say was him.
The aging spell had failed.
Arthur recognised him.
Arthur knew he had magic.
And Arthur believed he'd just killed the King.
Merlin's stunned mind escaped his thoughts, catching up to the world again as the feeling of sharp cold metal pressed against his chest, and panicked he forced his body to move, struggling out of his awkward borrowed robes and fleeing through the servants exit without looking back, his vision still blurred, but this time not only from the hit to his head.
~*~M~*~
Arthur stood stiffly but quietly the other side of the bed as Dragoon performed the spell, shouting words of a language he didn't not understand, but had feared for as long as he could understand. Regardless of the compelling trust in the old man eyes, he couldn't help but have doubts on whether he was doing the right thing, but this was the only chance his father had, and he had to try.
The relief when his father stirred radiated through his body, as he leant closer to the bed, ignoring the sorcerer in his joy. He would forever curse himself however for dropping his guard at such a critical moment, when merely moments last his joy was doused by a bright glow.
"What's happening?" The light grew stronger, a dark red beam shooting out from the covers but he didn't follow it as his father's face contorted in pain, and his breathing hitched. "What are you doing? Stop! Father!"
Arthur stared down in alarm and anger as his father faded, falling still against the covers. He felt for a pulse at his father's neck and couldn't retain his sob as he felt nothing under his fingertips.
The King was dead.
"No… He can't be." Arthur whipped his head up to where the old sorcerer had been standing. "What have you done!"
He turns to where the sorcerer had been standing before, but to his surprise the space was empty. Moving around the bed in anger, his fury that Dragoon had fled however, changed to confusion as he spotted a figure collapsed on the ground. Yet, the old man was still gone, in his place, wearing the same robes as Dragoon had himself was….
No. Arthur shook his head. Merlin couldn't have magic.
Merlin who shied away from almost every conversation about magic, and who stumbled over his feet carrying his armour, and hid behind trees during attacks on patrols.
Merlin whose cheerful personality had befriended many of the castle regardless of rank, and had almost cried over a unicorn's death – though Arthur now understood the reasoning behind it.
But then this was also Merlin, who's eyes shared the same colour and likeness as Dragoon, who shared even the same boots.
It was obvious now; Merlin had never been in the same room as Dragoon.
He had terrible excuses, disappearing the entirety of his visit to the hut, and then deciding to spend that specific evening to visit the tavern, when before he'd been so dedicated to stay by his side since the attack.
The tavern which conveniently was the very same excuse Merlin used when Dragoon had first appeared over a year before.
But he didn't want it to be true.
He couldn't take the lies, not after Morgana.
Arthur's rage flared, blood raging in his ears, as he drew his sword. "Tell me it wasn't you!"
Merlin stared at him through hazed eyes and made no sound in return but the reaction of his frie- traitor as his eyes first looked down at himself and then at Arthur, the blue colour shining with of guilt and acceptance, he knew it was the truth.
"GUARDS!"
Arthur could feel his eyes dampening, but his anger controlled them. The door didn't open and it wasn't for another moment that he realised he'd relieved them from duty and he stepped forward once more, the point of his sword edging closer to the one he'd been tempted to call friend so many times.
"Why!?" His shout teetered off as his voice succumbed to emotion, but his sword remained strong as the blade finally touched something, and Merlin made the first physical reaction he had since he'd fell.
He flinched back, scrambled to his feet, and ran.
Arthur instinct and training screamed at him to follow as Merlin stumbled out the servant's exit, but his gaze caught the prone form of his father once more, and his strength left him as he fell to his knees beside the bed.
Let him run, Arthur thought.
He could find him later, but right then he belonged at his father's side, and while he wished beyond anything he could forget what had just transpired, the badly fitting red robe that had covered Merlin's familiar attire, lay abandoned on the ground, and proved to be the only other evidence he needed to be reminded of what had occurred.
[1] Oh, spirits, assemble together your skill: mend this broken body
NOTES: There's the first chapter! Hope I got all the characterisation's right and the reaction's believable! Next chapter tomorrow!
