"Tell me." The sword presses just a fraction harder and Arthur's voice twists with the sort of hesitation a person gets when they aren't sure if the truth will set them free or break them completely. Merlin isn't sure which it will be either and the magic of the blade burns his skin which is a painful distraction and yet… Merlin had always had trouble denying Arthur much. He didn't see a reason to deny him anything anymore.
"When he was wounded during the assassination attempt and you went to seek out the old sorcerer… that was me." The sword jerks at the confession, just another lie to fuel the pyre Merlin will stand on. "I tried to heal him, I wanted you to see a drop of good magic in all the evil you've seen and hope that you might understand that magic is not born bad."
"Then why? Why would you kill him?" They are both crying and Merlin will never fool himself into thinking Arthur is shedding those tears will ever be for him again, those tears are for the memories of Uther. Arthur's tears are as steady as his hands and Merlin has to force himself to look at Arthur's eyes through the haze of his own tears.
"Morgana. I didn't realize until too late. There was a necklace around your father enchanted to reverse any healing spell tenfold. I only found it as we were preparing him for the funeral."
The broken yell echoes around the trees as Arthur drops the sword from Merlin's pulse to bend and scream at the ground, gripping his hair with his free hand. He yells long and hard before turning to slash at a tree behind him, screams mixing with sobs as old hurt opened with the burn of fresh betrayals.
You could almost hear the sound of years of friendship undoing, hearts shattering, and destiny laughing in the whisper of the wind. Yet Merlin would do it all again. Arthur was alive so Merlin would choose to do it again in the time between heartbeats.
- Approximately 27 Hours Earlier -
Merlin was pissed. He had been pissed since the moment they set out of their tiny campground this morning to find that the mud from the day before had barely gone away in the night. Being forced to make their way through the ankle-deep sludge instead of riding on their horses only made Merlin's sour mood hit new lows.
" Come on Merlin! We have half a day to the village." Gwain called back from his spot by Percival, a tired grin on his face. Gwain had been trying to keep up his stories and banter but even he was starting to tire.
"Three days! We have trudged through the mud and marsh for three days! All for an artifact that a random druid had spoken of in passing and Gaius has one, ONE, line of information of where it is mentioned. We don't even know if it really exists!" Merlin heard his last words echo in the space between trees and felt his heart stutter, anxiety spiking.
Arthur glanced back with a flash of a guilty look making a curl of shame come to life in Merlin's chest for fussing when everyone else wasn't. "You know if it is real that we need to find it. We cannot risk it falling into the wrong hands, we must at least make sure that we have done our best to check."
Despite knowing all this it didn't ease the fear that caused Merlin's breath to catch in his throat the closer they got to the village… because Merlin had lied. Gaius had more than one line, the book had stated just where the necklace was located and what it did. "The Oracles Droplet" was apparently used to get glimpses of the future. Well, Merlin was kind of sick and tired of things that told him what was going to happen to him.
It was all the same anyway: Arthur was in trouble. Arthur would die.
The last time he looked into the future he caused it to happen and he learned what it really meant to try to change fate. It didn't lighten his steps to know it might happen again should they actually find the artifact and Merlin get too close to it.
"I promise we can all have a bath and rest when we get to the village, a hot meal as well," Arthur called back as encouragement. It certainly worked on the knights.
Merlin couldn't exactly fall behind now, not with the rest of the group so eager to get on the way.
"Fine, then we might as well pick up the pace, a storm is heading in."
Everyone looked to the sky and eyed the clouds over the treetops, "Sounds good, let's get moving Princess." Gwain said clapping Arthur on the shoulder.
"There are no storm clouds we can see." a knight who joined us for the journey said, voice coated with doubt.
"Kandlyn, mate, when Merlin says there is a storm coming, there is a storm coming. If he says to pick up the pace and get inside before it hits, pick up the pace." Gwain is calling back while walking ahead, seemingly not intending to stop and wait for the rest of us.
Everyone does start picking up the pace at those words, although with clear distrust in the knight's Merlin doesn't usually travel with. The sharp sting in the air that crackles down his lungs and into his veins before dancing across his magic always warns him though, without fail. It became easier after summoning the lighting during the battle with Nimueh… as if it was asking him to wield it again. Every storm that passed, his magic flashed with the lighting and danced on the ground with the sparks, calling and wanting.
Storms were dangerous for more than one reason.
Merlin passed the slow distrustful knights to catch up with the rest, "You should pick up the pace."
