Hello again, Merlin fandom.
With heartache and joy I'm finally posting the final third of the Three Wheels series. I cried writing the last words. These characters, all of you, and this story has taken me through a long period of my life, and helped me learn to understand myself in greater ways. I can only hope I can bring you some of that catharsis- seeing the characters get to what we wished they would have seen. A Golden Age.
If you are new to the story, feel free to wait a few months. I'll be posting an edited version of all of Three Wheels on Ao3.
Updates will be once a week for the next 15 weeks.
And so, here we go. Chapter 1-
Chapter 1. Fibber on the Roof
Mid-March
So Merlin left; if Arthur couldn't stand to talk to him, then he'd go to someone who would— the other monster of Camelot, Gilli, the ceasg.
Gilli's new prison was Kilgharrah's old one, the cave beneath the castle. Merlin had made a few modifications since those naïve days, and now a stone floor stretched out across the wide expanse and blue lights dotted the ceiling like small stars. Nearby, Gilli lounged in Merlin's bathtub, picking his needle-point fangs with serrated claws.
"I ate a rat."
Merlin grimaced, "Sorry. I've been distracted."
"It doesn't look like you've figured out how to change me back."
"I could take you back to the Sarrum and his jailers."
"Where are my manners? Come in to my abode, sit down, fix yourself a drink. I recommend the bathwater, it is especially good this time of year."
Merlin muttered a levitation spell and launched Gilli and his bathwater into the air. Gilli struggled and screeched until the water coalesced into a rippling sphere. There weren't many expressions a fish-man's face was capable of, but Gilli had figured out displeasure.
Merlin refilled the tub, then dunked his shirt into it; he and his clothes were still coated in the soot from Morgana's forest fire.
"I forget that it's always about you. You, Arthur, and your destiny. What did he do this time?"
Merlin had told him about his magic, about Emrys, and Arthur hadn't forgiven him for his lies.
"Nevermind, don't tell me. I don't care. But I feel like I should say I told you so." Gilli flapped his tail and spun himself upside down in the sphere. "Get me some more water, I need to stretch my fins."
As Merlin climbed into the tub himself, he stuck a finger upwards and magiked buckets and buckets and buckets worth of water into Gilli's sphere. Soon a small pond floated above his head, and Gilli swum it in glee.
Merlin sank so he submerged, a numbness soaking through his limbs and leaving him lethargic.
Numbness was better than broken, because broken hurt. His mother had told him a broken heart was one that's loved. And Freya had once whispered that love was blinding. Maybe he had loved the idea of his destiny so much, that he'd blinded himself from the truth. Freedom had only been a dream, nothing more.
A green capped messenger delivered Leon the news— the Sarrum's son had disappeared.
It came after Leon had spent a night pouring over Camelot's defensive plans, and wondering if this time he'd be able to hold off an assault by Morgana and her potential allies. Learning that Emrys had freed her hadn't been welcome news.
The walk from his house to the castle required him to take the large road outside the central walls of the citadel. At this early hour it was already filled with the colorful skirts and shirts of the many people headed to market. They had a bustle that leant him energy.
Leon's eyes itched, but he swallowed the exhaustion. First, he'd need to grab Gwaine and Percival from the barracks. Hopefully Gwaine was in a better mood— the man hadn't been happy to hear Arthur had 'teleported' back with Merlin hours before Gwaine had given up searching the forest.
Second, they'd need to establish a timeline. Who had seen the Ensign and when… and then they'd need to gather knowledge of the hour before and after the Ensign was last seen, which must have been in the night. So either his guards had been paid off, or they'd been asleep at the job, again.
He stopped, then he changed direction for Forridel's hut.
He didn't knock, and caught her with a hunk of bread and cheese hanging from her mouth. Seeing him, she grabbed the sandwich in both hands and ripped a bite with the combined force of her arms and teeth.
"Stale. Have to moisten it first," she explained, chewing laboriously. "Didn't expect you so early, something happen?"
"The Ensign, the Sarrum's son, is missing. This is after yesterday afternoon's near murder of Guinevere and kidnapping of Arthur by Ruadan the Druid…."
Forridel dropped her sandwich.
"The queen lives and the king returns because of Merlin, and his magic. Forridel, he's powerful. Likely on par with many of the sorcerers who've fought against Camelot."
"Logically, he must be more powerful, if he is alive and they are not."
"Well," he began, then blinked.
"Iseldir has told me a few stories. Merlin may have built the Hall of Brecffa, if I'm understanding it correctly."
"The… what? Where is that?"
She waved away his comment. "Is Merlin's magic why you are here? Is it bothering you?"
Dangerous question to answer, when she was both his betrothed and had lived with the Druids for years. "Well… do you think magic could find the Sarrum's son?"
"That sounds like a question for Merlin," she went back to her sandwich, then smirked. "But if you ask him you'd be breaking the law."
"Uhm, yes." Was that wrong? "Would you forgive me?"
She laughed. Roared, was more apt. "My dear golden boy. Leon, my love, I forgive you for following your own thoughts rather than the rules of old men in stuffy rooms."
She shook her head and walked him backward to the door.
"Now I have one final week of freedom before you trap me in matrimony."
"Forridel!"
"So please leave me and my sandwich in peace, and be free to follow your heart knowing I will love you more for it."
He smiled.
She took another wrenching bite. "Now git, Captain."
Gwaine dreamed he was wandering a forest. He had to find something, he didn't know what, but he knew he couldn't rest until he had it.
Blue light flashed behind trees, and he'd run to them, only to turn and find the same forest.
He spun and spun, in circles. What was he chasing? He'd know when he found it.
The light flashed again, from a tree just two steps away. He whirled around the trunk and came within an inch of a glowing blue unhuman figure. He recognized the shape of it immediately, Gwaine had first met it in the catacombs of Camelot while conscripted in Morgana's chain gangs.
It was a creature of magic, too thin for a human and with a long egg-shaped head. An otherworldly blue glowed in its veins and it's eyes were nearly as large as Gwaine's skull. They trembled with fear.
"Gwaine," the Diamair said, "You must kill me."
Gwaine could sleep through an attacking army, Percival thought.
He'd had a long conversation with the messenger about the missing Ensign and Leon's orders, gotten dressed in clanking chainmail, and Gwaine still dreamt about apple pie.
Pie and watered down wine, perhaps, because Percival had been dripping water onto Gwaine's face for the past five minutes, and all the man had done was lick at it.
He leaves me no choice.
He moistened both pinkies, and wiggled them into Gwaine's ears.
"What! What's happening?" Gwaine scrambled for his sword, twisted in his sheets, and fell onto the ground. It was beautiful.
"We've got a problem that requires you to put on trousers."
Gwaine grabbed hold of his sword, Galatine, and swung it towards Percival. "You've impregnated my sister."
"What?"
"You thought you were sneaky. Giants aren't sneaky!"
"Your sister isn't… " Percival shook his head. No arguing with lunatics, and Gwaine and his stalker-sister were both crazy, "hurry up, we have knightly duties to do."
While Gwaine struggled with his chainmail, the man struck up a hand with five fingers splayed, "I'd bet we slept less than this. What kind of operation does Leon think he's running?''
Percival just shook his head. "I need to go to the well. Catch up."
For the next few minutes, Gwaine graced everyone in sight with a half-clothed knight of Camelot struggling to do his belts while walking. Percival filled him in on the missing Ensign, and their orders.
Gwaine's helpful comment was, "That sounds long and painful."
"About as long and painful as trudging around the forest half the night. Merlin found Arthur a lot faster than we did. Maybe we could ask him for help this time?"
Gwaine's glower deepened, and he didn't answer. The only explanation was what Percival had suspected last night, that Gwaine had been close to Merlin, and Gwaine couldn't get over being lied to. When they'd reached the well, and Percival set about refilling his waterskin, he said idly, "If I'd had magic, would you be this angry?"
Gwaine tossed his hair. "I'm not angry." Percival quirked a brow, and Gwaine huffed. "Not for what you think."
Percival let that simmer, waiting for Gwaine to stop glaring at his boots. When he did, "What are you angry about?"
This took another stretch of time, enough for them to walk back toward the castle.
Gwaine opened his mouth a few times, frowned a few times, and sought the words for whatever emotions had him stomping through the forest last night. When he did speak, it was broken, gruff, and layered with regret. "I already... knew he had magic. But he lied about… the rest of it."
Percival's world tilted. Didn't expect that.
But before he could dig deeper, Leon caught sight of them and waved them over. Percival cursed his luck.
When they were close enough to talk in low voices, Leon said, "I have an unconventional request. I know it's illegal, but if Merlin was able to find Arthur so quickly, he may be able to help us find the Ensign."
Percival nodded, it was exactly what he'd said earlier. But Gwaine sighed then admitted, "I know how Merlin found Arthur." He looked suspiciously over his shoulder as if the crowd could hear him muttering, "He put a half-penny in Arthur's scabbard, and he can sniff it out like a hound."
"He can smell Arthur from leagues away?" Percival said, a little grossed out.
Leon though, hit on something else. "So you've known Merlin had magic since before last night."
"Yes, sir," Gwaine glowered.
Leon frowned. "I can understand his need for secrecy, but you report to me. You should have shared what you knew."
Gwaine boiled. "If you're going to quote the law at me, then why are you so willing to break it when it benefits you?"
Leon sighed. "I admit this is new for me."
"Are we going to tell Arthur?" Percival asked.
"Soon," Leon looked towards the castle. "He and the Queen are still recuperating. Perhaps this evening I will give them a full report."
"You're no better than me then," Gwaine huffed.
Leon held up a hand. "Let's not argue. However, before we move on, are either of you opposed to breaking the law to gain Merlin's assistance? Refusing now will not gain you any ill-will from myself."
It was an odd question to ask, Percival thought. Leon, not they, had always followed the laws to the letter. In the end, Gwaine shrugged, and Percival nodded.
At their acceptance, Leon turned to Gwaine. "We must find Merlin, yet he isn't with Gaius or Arthur, or you, Gwaine. Any ideas where he could be?"
"He could be anywhere in Albion," Gwaine sighed. "But I have a hunch."
He led them into the recesses of the castle, and on paths that led them deep underground. They moved past walled-off excavations and dirt barriers, and eventually reached a tunnel burrowing into the earth.
They walked into darkness. Percival focusing on the faint outline of Leon's body and the sound of steps. When Gwaine stopped, Percival had the presence not to bowl over his friends.
"What is that?" Leon asked.
Percival peered around him. The tunnel ended in an open archway and through it glowed a dim blue light.
It felt like waking alone in a forest at dawn, dew on the leaves and timeless peace. Ethereal.
Gilli squeaked and ducked into the bathtub. Through the burble of water, he heard Gwaine say, "That's Fishboy."
He huffed, bubbles bursting around him. If only he could speak with his mouth.
"Gilli," he heard Merlin say, "they can see you."
He poked his eyes over the lip of the tub, and took in the other knights. The blonde one was rubbing at his head like Gilli was just another problem in a long day of problems. The giant looked curiously at the ceiling, and Gwaine frowned at Merlin. Merlin looked like he'd slept on a cave floor in damp clothes.
Finally, Gilli thought, I get to see some of the action.
The blonde one strode for his tub.
Too much action! He ducked back into the water.
Unfortunately, the voices were muffled from down here. So he sucked in a clean breath, then rose enough for his earholes to be above water. His eyes flicked between Merlin and the others.
"He's harmless," Gwaine said. "Only snapped at me once."
"What matters more," Blondie said, "is he was not ours to steal. He is the Sarrum's property."
"People can't be property," Merlin argued.
"This is not a person, this is a creature," Blondie flung a hand over the bath, and Gilli had the urge to bite it.
"He is human," Merlin explained with a sigh. "It's a spell gone wrong. I haven't figured out how to change him back yet."
Blondie balked. "Magic can do that to a person?"
"Tell him it can turn lads into gals," Gilli smirked, sending the thought to Merlin. It got him an annoyed glare. Lords, it was fun to annoy him.
Blondie inspected the tub. "Can he leave this cave?"
"He doesn't have feet."
"Then we'll revisit this topic at a later time."
"Ask him for food," Gilli suggested. Merlin sighed, "I'll tell Gaius to bring some down."
By then Blondie had approached Merlin. He couldn't quite make out the details, but he got the gist.
"So, they ALL know about your magic." He waited, knowing Merlin was too preoccupied to respond.
"Doesn't seem like they've come to arrest you. But do they know you can fight? They probably think you're some sort of healer."
They were making plans to leave. Gilli stepped up his game.
"I don't think you have the nerve to use your magic in front of them."
The wall cracked, then a disk of rock split outwards, spinning towards his head. He ducked, and it slid into place atop the tub.
"Ha ha, very funny. Let me out."
He couldn't hear much of anything. He pushed against the lid, but it held solid. Maybe if he'd been able to get better leverage at the bottom of the tub, but a tail was useless in that regard. "Merlin," he called. "I was joking! You can let me out now. MERLIN!"
The stone slid to the side and Merlin smirked down at him. "Sorry," he said. "I will send food this time, I swear."
Gilli tried to hold his tongue. "So you're going to help them? Help the Sarrum find his son?" He only partially succeeded. At least he'd sounded pleasant.
"I think so."
"You do know I look like this because the Sarrum was chasing me, right? You know he helped Uther in the Purge? His son is probably just as bad. Let him rot, I say."
Merlin frowned and walked away, following the knights. "I know. Just let me handle this for now, okay?"
"Why is it even when our oppressors LET you use magic, you STILL BETRAY US?"
But Merlin left, and Gilli found himself alone again, stuck in a bathtub for an unknown amount of time.
This wasn't the first time they'd argued, in fact it seemed a hallmark of their friendship.
He sighed. Still, Merlin was his only hope.
He plopped his chin on the lip of the tub, and let his spindly arms hang down to brush the floor. Then he sharpened his ears, and listened for rats.
Merlin fell a step behind Leon as they entered the Ensign's guest bedroom. It looked largely untouched– bedding rumpled and an open chest of clothes the only sign someone had slept here. If the Ensign had been kidnapped in the night, where were his boots?
As they both took in the room, a shadow fell across the doorway. Merlin turned to behold the Sarrum himself, glowering while torchlight reflected off of his skull.
The Sarrum stood a few inches taller than Merlin, and his bulk belied his strength. This was the man who had set the Eancanah on the Druids during the Purge, and had put Aithusa in a pit. He was a monster, and someone Merlin had to be incredibly careful of. This man knew how to hurt magic-users, and enjoyed it.
The Sarrum's lip pulled back as he spoke loudly– those down the hallway clearly heard him. "What do you know of where they've taken my son?"
Leon stepped forward as Merlin warily stepped back. He'd never appreciated anonymity more. "Only as much as you," Leon said. "He disappeared in the night."
"Then you will be going after the Druids."
"Why would I do that?"
They argued in the way nobles did, posturing.
"Camelot allows Emrys inside it's walls, and soon after Druids attack the king of Camelot. They simultaneously attack my house. Does this surprise you?"
Had Ruadan had allies? How had the Sarrum known?
"You reference the allyship Camelot and Amata once had. If that alliance still stands, you will accept my writ to discover the truth."
He looked at the stiff expressions between the two men– Amata's alliance had not been reestablished since Arthur's rule. With the loss of the Ensign, the freeing of the Druids... would Camelot gain an enemy?
Did he care?
The apathy shocked him; he shouldn't too easily ignore Arthur's needs for peace. But a criminal like the Sarrum deserved Merlin's wrath. He didn't deserve alliances and safety and comfort. This man should burn, too, get a feel for what it was like.
The Sarrum tilted his chin up. "I respect the alliance between our kingdoms," he said, voice echoing down the long hallway. "I can only hope Camelot holds that same respect. I expect a report."
Many guards and servants, alongside Leon and Merlin, watched him go. The rumors would spread by breakfast.
Leon gestured Merlin further into the guest room and shut the door behind them. He looked troubled.
Leon had seemed open to his magic, had accepted it as a useful tool at least. But did that mean he would defend the Druids from the Sarrum himself?
Of course he would. Forridel had lived with the Druids for years. Leon must believe the majority were good by now, right?
Leon finally settled on a frown, turning first to Merlin then to the room at large. "We should start with the truth." His eyes ran over the windows, the open chest of clothes, the bed itself. "If I were the Ensign," Leon fingered his sword, "I'd hang my belt and weapon over a bedpost before sleeping, so it was close enough to grab quickly."
He peaked over the side of windows, under the bed, and behind cabinets. He didn't seem to see anything amiss.
"So where is the sword? Stolen alongside the Ensign? Why?"
Maybe the kidnapper had needed the weapon. Or the Ensign had stolen something and hidden it in his belt.
"The door was locked from the inside," Leon continued. "And these windows, no one could have scaled the wall with a body and sword and not been noticed. It's in full view of the eastern guard tower!"
So it had been a magic user. Merlin's gut churned at the thought. Please let this not be another case against the Druids. Please let him not be the piece that confirmed that to Camelot.
Leon looked to Merlin, and he chose truth. "I would have put everyone to sleep and walked away with him. I could have relocked the door behind me with magic."
Leon muttered, "That explains a lot of past breakouts." He hesitated, an open hope blooming on his face. "Can you track whoever did those spells?"
Could he? He'd never tried something like that before. But whatever he could do to prove magic could also be used for good– "I may be able to see remnants of it." Merlin eyed the door, locking it for good measure, then slipped through the Veil.
Humming. It pulled him up short. The chaotic swirl of Albion's magic had always before been seen, but had no noticeable sound. But now, it buzzed. Like a thousand bees beyond the next hill, or a faraway thundercloud.
"What?" Leon asked. Leon studied his eyes, likely golden. Merlin fought the urge to hide them.
It was such a deep sound, like the castle groaning at him in a strong wind. "There's, um," he looked around. There was something strange about the magic here, like it was avoiding something.
He burrowed his way through the storm, trying not to look too insane, until he found what the magic was whirling around. A little chain of magic chittered in place, tarnished and broken at the edges.
With a finger he almost touched it, but his own magic recoiling stilled him. It wasn't dark magic, but something wrong had touched the world here.
"What do you see?"
"I…" he shook his head, retreating from the Veil and the deep vibration that had come with it. "I think it's a shape shifting spell. But I don't know who could have left it. Not even Morgana leaves traces like this."
"Could it have been Ruadan?"
"I doubt it."
Leon frowned and looked out of a window. "Even still, we should catch Iseldir before he leaves."
Iseldir clasped his wrists beneath his sleeves as Druids bustled behind him in the main square, packing to leave.
"It was not a Druid who did this," Iseldir said, answering both Merlin's mental and Leon's verbal question. "In fact, you should question whether he was stolen at all."
"Why do you say that?" Leon asked.
"Three Druids were attacked last night, their possessions stolen. Perhaps someone wanted to cause strife here. Perhaps someone wanted to make it look like Druids had stolen the Sarrum's son."
Merlin felt a hope rise within him. Yes, this was reasonable too.
"Is that why you're leaving so soon?"
"It's not because I'm stealing a prince to hide in my tent," Iseldir snarked.
"I really don't think these Druids had anything to do with it," Merlin said, still hoping Leon would agree.
"May we speak with the wounded Druids, then?"
Iseldir gestured, "This way."
Out of his periphery from where he stood on the training grounds, Arthur watched his new manservant staring at him. He had red hair and freckles, and was at that young, lanky age. He also had the raw fingers of a kitchen boy that dealt too much with hot water. He was just a child.
Arthur gripped the practice sword tighter, and swung it for a mannequin's head.
Didn't this kitchen boy see he wanted to burn the anger out? I don't want to feel anything except soreness. I don't want to think about Merlin anymore!
"Sire?" The lad said, voice quiet.
Arthur whirled around the mannequin, striking at its ribcage.
"Iseldir's horse is ready. You'd said you wanted to speak with him before he rode out."
Yes. That was true. What had Iseldir known? He must have known. It was just another person on the long list of people Merlin had supplied with the truth before his supposed best friend.
Heaving breaths, Arthur tossed the wooden sword to the side. "Thank you. Delay him. I'll clean up."
Leon led Merlin out of the hood of a wagon, the three injured Druids now sleeping peacefully from a quick spell. He moved them to a quiet spot, brow furrowed as he sifted through their testimony. It felt obvious to Merlin, though. Of course the Druids were innocent. Of course the Sarrum would pull a trick like this. He didn't know why, but what reason did that man need to hurt magic users?
"It's suspicious," Leon said, finally.
"Consider it more," Merlin begged, "why would the Sarrum want to frame the Druids?"
Leon shook his head slowly, and he muttered softly, "The Druids are free in Camelot. Arthur holds a Purge Trial. He invites Emrys, a known sorcerer. What does that change?"
Did Leon... not know he was Emrys yet? Better to keep that for later.
Leon rubbed at his chin. "It changes the status quo. The superpower between Camelot, Amata, and Deorham shifts. Camelot's strength is in flux. It makes sense for Amata to make a play for greater power."
"So you agree," Merlin said, "that it's possible the Sarrum falsely kidnapped his own son."
"I agree. But I don't see how we'd get proof that the Sarrum squirreled away his own son using a sorcerer we've never heard of or seen."
A part of Merlin thought he could probably grab hold of that chain of magic and see where it led him, but it made his stomach roil to think of touching that tarnished spell. "I could check some obvious places, like his chambers in Amata's castle?"
"That's a multiple day's heavy ride…" Leon broke off, "Nevermind. Regardless, he could be anywhere. We need a way to get information out of the Sarrum, or someone close to him."
The square was getting busier, even though the people were mostly Druids, their conversation could be overheard. Leon led him into the castle, heading in the general direction of the guest suite they'd offered the Sarrum. They kept their voices low.
"I may be able to get something out of his servant," Merlin said. "Or I could hide in a cupboard, I've found out more than I've ever expected doing that."
"Can't leave it to chance, no time for that."
"I could... pretend to be the sorcerer confirming I moved the Ensign safely?" That seemed like a bad idea. Maybe Leon could build on it.
"That should be enough to judge his reaction. Can you find a way for me to see his face, without actually being there?" Leon hadn't really built on it.
Be the sorcerer, and get Leon into the room to see the Sarrum's face. Leon would have to be right next to him, but practically invisible. Scrying, maybe? Oh... of course.
Merlin pulled Leon into an alcove, and focused. He did the spell right only half of the time, but he surely wasn't going to face a naked Leon. Surely...
He tapped Leon on the chest, weaving a cloak of magic into his tanned skin, and Leon vanished. Merlin let out a quiet breath of relief. "You're invisible. No one can see you."
He closed his eyes and concentrated, his tunic lengthening to brush his boots, the strings threading into filigree, and the wide neck flopping into a hood. He flipped it over his head. "Do I look sufficiently anonymous?"
"You should make the front a little baggier, just in case the sorcerer is female."
Merlin complied, then found Leon's arm and focused on a tunnel of gold leading to the Sarrum's chambers. "Try not to puke," he said, and they jumped.
He appeared in a corner and shed an intentional gust of wind. The drapes and bed linens shivered, but the Sarrum turned from his study of Camelot's scenery without a moment of startlement.
"You were not to–" he grated, then paused and narrowed his eyes. "Emrys. Guards! Sorcerer in my chambers!"
Fie, foiled so quickly. A glance at the door told him he still had a few more seconds.
Merlin deepened his voice, using his magic to stir the air in the room. "You will not get away with what you have done."
The Sarrum grinned with gritted teeth. "Oh? And what is it I have done?"
"Should I spell out your crimes to the magical community?"
The Sarrum seemed to be edging towards something in the room. A box on the bedside table. What did he hold in there?
"Is it a crime to protect the realm?" The Sarrum said.
Merlin watched the man's hands. He was close now, to that box, whatever it was. "It is a crime to attack three Druids under Camelot's protection, and to kidnap your own son." And it was no moral king that put Aithusa in a pit.
The Sarrum flinched towards the box, Merlin snarled, and the wind responded. A lick of it had curled around the Sarrum's hand when a set of Amatan guards burst into the room.
They leveled pikes, and Merlin cut the spell short. He disappeared in a blink, returning Leon and himself to the alcove.
He took a few deep breaths, needing them. What had been in that box? What was that man planning? He could not be trusted. Oh no– he had attacked the foreign king in front of Leon. Hopefully Leon had understood why.
A disembodied finger tapped him on the shoulder. With no one in the hall, Merlin released the spell. His friend didn't look angry or suspicious, and Merlin's heart rate slowed.
Leon looked down at his body, "It's more difficult than expected to move without seeing your own limbs." He drew Merlin away. "We were lucky he faced the window. He assumed you were some other sorcerer before calling you Emrys."
Yes, the Sarrum had reacted without surprise! "You're right. He planned to lecture me. The other sorcerer must have instructions not to return."
Leon shook his head, muttering about their luck. "The Sarrum is a cunning man, and a dangerous enemy. He conquered Amata when no older than Arthur. Even when outnumbered and outmaneuvered, he routes his enemy with nearly preternatural precognition. We were very lucky indeed."
Maybe his pet sorcerer is an even greater seer than Morgana? Outloud he said, "Are we supposed to find a clue that three green-cloaked men snuck out at night with a wagon, and blame Iseldir? It doesn't sound so cunning."
Leon frowned, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It must be something greater. Come, Merlin. Whatever the man's plans, we must be there to mitigate them."
Arthur pressed a kiss to Guinevere's forehead, then snapped the clasp of his cape. "I'm sorry for running off to beat on a training dummy."
She gave him a wry look from where she rested against the headboard. "I know that helps you think."
"And I'm sorry for leaving to see off the leaders that traveled into Camelot."
"That's your duty," she said. "But visit me after, I want to speak to you."
He squeezed her hand. "I love you, and of course I will."
Leon eyed the men filling the courtyard, an even mix of Druids, Bayard's Mercians, and the Sarrum's Amatans preparing to leave.
Most faces looked preoccupied, no eyes lingered on he and Merlin standing sentry. I hope I'm not playing into the Sarrum's scheme. The Sarrum's tactical plans had been training material as he'd grown into knighthood. Have I missed something?
Merlin grunted, then ducked his head to speak to his boots. "There's a man in a window. About halfway up the tower that goes to Gaius' chambers."
Leon found him after a careful scan. The Amatan been well hidden. Magic at work?
Leon caught Percival's eye, and made a hand gesture signaling the man and Percival's position. Percival nodded and walked away.
As Leon skirted the crowd Arthur strode into the open. Arthur's eyes flickered over Merlin before he twisted away, walking down the steps.
The Amatan shifted, and an arrow glinted from the bottom of the window. He had a crossbow.
Leon moved faster, he had only seconds before Arthur reached the bottom of the stairs and became a sitting target.
He thought he heard the twang as the crossbow locked into place. Seconds, he had only seconds. He should shout for Arthur to duck.
The man fired.
The arrowhead froze, then ripped backwards along the shaft. Wooden splinters sprayed. The dull point pierced the man's shoulder, making him jerk.
Shrinking down, eyes wide, nearly frantic, he loaded another arrow, aim wild, and then a force grabbed his head and yanked.
He banged back into the stairwell, and Leon took the last few steps into the tower at a run. He flew up the stairs.
The Amatan lay crumpled against the stone inner wall, crossbow hanging listless from his fingers. Leon kicked it away.
And then Merlin walked out of the air.
"Green cloak," Leon noted, trying to mask his shock. "Likely a stolen one. It would make three attacks by Druids. Ruadan's, the kidnapping of the Sarrum's son, and a bolt for Arthur's head. This could have forced Camelot's hand further against magic."
The image of the arrowhead splitting the shaft in reverse came to him, how had Uther and the Sarrum actually won against magic-users with that kind of power? He shook the thought off.
Merlin removed the green Druid cloak. "He could still say something to falsely incriminate Iseldir."
"Let me handle that."
Merlin pulled his arms through the cloak's sleeves, and as he did it shrank and shifted into Merlin's old brown jacket.
He used magic like a man breathes.
Percival rounded the upper corner, then gestured at the man's torso.
"Yes, thank you Percival, I'll get his feet. Merlin," he thought again of the arrow, "can you watch the square for any other attackers?"
Merlin nodded, and as they trundled the body away Leon looked back at Merlin, who'd turned to the window. He looked as humble and plain as he had when he'd first arrived at the castle.
Just another servant, but he was likely the most deadly man in Camelot. How lucky were they, to have Merlin at their side?
Sefa huddled far from the jail's bars. Her back pressed the mossy stone, and her toes touched the small square of light from the window high above.
The quiet fury that had reddened Arthur's face when he'd stepped from the Solar, so soon after ordering Merlin away, and while condemning her to prison, had not looked like a face that would soon know mercy. Would she die here, never to see the sky again?
Where was her father, Ruadan? He had teleported away with King Arthur, and King Arthur hadn't returned with a body. The king's sword hadn't been bloody, she believed, but she hadn't gotten a good look.
A small bead of her heart, that she kept enclosed within the shield of her curled body, cried like a frightened child. Somehow that child knew even if her father lived, he wouldn't return for her.
For the sake of his murderous plans, he had abandoned her.
Footsteps.
Sefa curled tighter into her ball. Stay small, stay hard to see.
The clank of metal rang from nearby, but she didn't look. Sometimes, looking at someone caused them to notice you. But no, more footsteps, and these stopped before her cell.
"Sefa?" It was a familiar voice.
Merlin's voice.
"Tell me you didn't know what that cloak would do."
Of course she hadn't known it would attack him. She thought she'd finished crying over this, but no. "I would never… I would never—"
He sighed. "I believe you. I don't think you knew Ruadan's plans. When we talked the day before, you were too honest."
"I didn't know," she whispered.
He shuffled, walking away, she thought. She glanced through her knees and saw not his back, but his arm as it stretched through the bars, holding his coat. She unfolded, reaching forward. When the jacket left his hand it fell in a pool of fabric, instantly supple. It was dark, and green, and familiar.
It was a cloak– a Druid cloak. Had he given it to her out of pity?
She threaded her arms through the sleeves. Merlin had seemed too stern for pity. Perhaps he'd given it so she could wear it with pride on the pyre.
Sefa pulled the cloak tight about her body, her nose digging into the unfamiliar scents. Whatever Merlin's reasons, they made little difference to her. For now, she appreciated the comfort.
Leon knocked on the door of the Sarrum's chambers, the drooling assassin looped over Percival's shoulders.
A servant opened the door. The Sarrum took one look at Leon and the assassin and sneered.
Percival, brazen, walked into the room and dumped the assassin on the Sarrum's bed.
Leon pushed down his hesitation. The Sarrum had made himself an enemy, and Leon was at no fault for calling him on it. "I have news of your son."
"And where is he?"
"Wherever you took him."
They stared unblinking for long seconds, then the Sarrum chuckled. He had large hands, the kinds that could crush, and he steepled them before his chin. "And what will Arthur do now?"
Leon placed his hands behind his back, straightening. At his full height, he at least met the Sarrum eye to eye. "The King does not go to war lightly. He demands you leave, and not return."
"Else what?" The Sarrum smiled.
"It would not be the first time he beheaded a king."
The Sarrum chortled, dark eyes gleaming. "Empty threats, I am already leaving. But at least one of you has a spine."
He turned to the window, waving a hand to dismiss them.
Leon only grunted, knowing the less he said the better.
As Percival left, the Sarrum began humming. He almost sounded pleased.
A chill ran down his spine as the door clicked shut. How much was he missing?
Days passed, and to Merlin they felt like years.
The silence from Arthur grated. His friendships, his future, his fate moved like mist before him. Would he receive acceptance, banishment, death? If Arthur went the way of the law, of Uther, would Merlin run?
Gilli, chomping on a chicken, splashed in the floating pond Merlin spun him. With an idle finger he swirled the currents.
"You could go live on the Isle," Gilli said, "That's where I'm going when I'm out of this trap."
"I'm not abandoning Camelot, and the people I care about. Not unless I have to."
"Classic Merlin. Abandoning magic-users for the killers he cares about. No mind to how they all came to power on the backs of our people."
"Do I look like I'm abandoning you?" Merlin snapped. "Do I seem like I don't want all of us to be free? I want to do it the right way. Arthur can do it the right way. He wants to. I think."
"How are you so optimistic? You must have seen as much horrible crap as I have."
"I've seen the good in Arthur's heart. And I've heard too many prophecies."
"You are sickeningly sweet in a really gross way sometimes. Do you actually believe those?"
"Not anymore."
Someone touched his shoulder, and he sat up with a start.
Leon stood over him, falling into parade rest with a noble's grace. He cleared his throat. "Forridel and I would like to invite you to dinner tonight."
"Erm…" Merlin said, "that was oddly formal."
Leon smiled, sheepish. "She owes me a meal, and from what it sounds like, owes you one too. Apparently you saved her life once?"
He flushed, "It's sort of my fault she was in danger in the first place."
Leon chuckled, then hauled Merlin to his feet. "Come to dinner and you both can tell me all about it."
Hold On sung by the Alabama Shakes
Footnotes:
(1) Gilli accidentally turned himself into a ceasg while trying to escape the Sarrum. His betrothed was captured and returned to the Sarrum's group of courtesans.
(2) The Ensign is my translation for the word Prince. It is a title for the Prince of Amata.
(3) Forridel is a canon character, once a trader with the Druids who Uther planned to use. Supposedly, those Druids had kidnapped Morgana. As a fandom, we know that Merlin sent Morgana to those Druids and warned Forridel about Uther's intentions when everything starting going to chaos.
(4) Galatine is a historical name for Gwaine's sword. Wheel 2 introduces that name, and Gwaine's sister.
(5) Gilli references magic "turning lads into gals". This is a reference to the end of Wheel 1.
(6) At the end of Wheel 1, Merlin frees Aithusa, and then sort of frees Morgana from the Sarrum's pit. He's of course under the guise of Emrys at the time.
(7) The characters constantly reference the end of Wheel 2. Ruadan and Sefa bring a cloak tainted with Morgana's dark magic as a gift to Merlin and the others. Gwen takes the brunt of the curse, Ruadan kidnaps Arthur, Sefa and the knights are shocked all around, and Merlin's magic comes to light.
Author's Note:
To everyone who left a review, who still holds to this fandom, thank you so much for your time. And Linorien- my alpha and my beta, thank you for all the excitement at writing you share with me. I wouldn't have this story without you.
Next time: The Isle of Misfit Toys. Where are Morgana and Aithusa?