AN regarding site issues: I've gotten multiple messages about people being unable to access certain chapters of this fic. It seems to vary from person to person and from chapter to chapter – the link won't work for some, but works just fine for others. Unfortunately, this is a site issue, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. However, I have also posted a version of this story that compiles the entire thing into one horribly long chapter, so if this gives you problems, you can read that instead. Also, this story is also posted on AO3 under the same name and author. (Note: chapters 20 and 21 are combined there, so the chapter numbering is off by one.) I'm really sorry about this. I hate that it's happening, and believe me, I would fix it if I could. :*(
AN: A couple of notes about the setting - this is AU after series 3. Lancelot is still alive, but Uther has died and Arthur is king. The end of S3 and beginning of S4 made me really want to see more of Lancelot as a supportive friend for Merlin. (Side note: there will be no love triangle drama with Lancelot and Gwen). I see Merlin as 19 or 20ish in this story, and Arthur as 24ish.
On with the story…enjoy!
Part One
Chapter One
For a brief moment, Arthur feared he was the reason for the scream.
He let his arrow fly, confident it would meet its mark. And then, just as it pierced the stag, a panicked cry rang through the forest. The confusion only lasted a moment before he realized the sound had come from somewhere behind him.
A quick glance at his nearest knights told him Leon and Lancelot had heard it as well. He didn't bother issuing an actual order; he wanted them to maintain the element of surprise. Abandoning the hunt, he turned and rode towards the noise, his knights following.
In less than a minute, they found the source. A young woman and a child stood in the road, surrounded by ten bandits. The woman had the child in front of her, clinging to him tightly, her druid's cloak covering him as well as her.
"Come on now, missy," the apparent ringleader said. "Give us what you've got, or we'll take the lad instead."
Ten bandits. Arthur had five knights with him.
He liked those odds.
With a couple of quick hand gestures, he sent Lancelot, Leon, and Elyan around to approach from the other side.
"I don't have any money," the woman pleaded. "Please, we carry nothing of value!"
"Well, I dare say the lad will fetch a pretty enough price to the right buyer," the man said with a toothy grin. "Won't you, boy?"
Bandits who dabbled in slaving, apparently. Arthur took the rage he felt rising up and channeled it into the attack.
It took very little to stop the bandits; they had only rudimentary sword skills, and the knights made quick work of them. In a matter of minutes, four bandits lay dead on the ground, the other six having fled.
"Are you all right?" Arthur asked, turning to the woman and child.
"Y-yes, my lord," the woman said uncertainly. "Thank you." Her eyes were wide with understandable fear. For a druid, the king of Camelot might not be any less of a threat than the bandits.
He stepped towards her, about to assure her that he meant her no harm, when suddenly a look of terror seized the boy. Then everything seemed to happen at once.
"No!" the child shouted, throwing a hand out in front of him. Hie eyes flashed gold, and although Arthur couldn't see it, he could feel the magic around him. He saw an arrow pass by his head, aimed for the woman's chest, and then he saw the arrow pause and reverse course. Arthur spun in time to see it sink into the throat of a bandit holding a crossbow.
The boy had magic. Arthur felt the chill in his bones he always experienced when he saw magic practiced, but he also saw the fear in the child's eyes. He knew the boy had only meant to protect the woman.
And then he saw one of the bandits – one he had previously believed to be dead – shift. The man must have been faking the severity of his injuries, because he moved nimbly, leaping to his feet and swinging his sword in the same motion.
Without thinking, Arthur leapt in and blocked the blow before it reached the child, then buried his sword into the man's stomach.
When he fell again, there was no doubt as to his fate.
All of it together had taken only seconds.
"You saved him." The woman stared at Arthur in wonder. "You risked your life to protect someone with magic."
Arthur wasn't sure how to respond. He hadn't really thought about what he was doing. It had been instinctual, not intentional.
"I did," he agreed dazedly, then tried to clear to his head. "It is my duty to ensure the people of Camelot are safe from criminals such as these."
The woman smiled at him and took a step closer, gently moving the boy to the side so she could approach the king. "Even people with magic?"
All signs of fear were gone from the woman. She studied Arthur thoughtfully. Up close, she was not as young as he had first thought, and the knowledge in her eyes unsettled him.
"What say you, Arthur Pendragon?" she asked gently. "Do people with magic deserve to live?"
Arthur stared at her speechless. Fighting the bandits made sense. He was comfortable with that. But somehow he had stumbled from that into this conversation, and he had no idea how to handle it.
Did people with magic deserve to live?
He had never considered the question in quite those words before. He'd always envisioned a sorcerer as an adult who had been seduced by the lure of corrupt power. But a child protecting his sister or mother? Arthur couldn't see how he would deserve death. And if he didn't automatically deserve death, were there others who didn't deserve death either?
The woman smiled at him with both kindness and sympathy. "I will not demand an answer from you today. I see you have much to think about. Instead, perhaps, I can offer you a favor. In exchange for saving his life."
"A favor?" Arthur repeated, his mind still tangled in her question. "Why would a druid grant a favor to a Pendragon?"
"Because," the woman said, "you are our hope. We have heard how Emrys serves you, and meeting you, I can feel the mark of his power. Now, seeing you risk your life for my son's, I know for myself it is true."
"Your hope?" Arthur asked dumbly. "Who's Emrys? What power?" He had apparently been reduced to just echoing whatever the woman said in the form of a question. The whole conversation was taking on a decidedly dream-like feel, where none of the pieces connected to each other and nothing made sense.
The woman looked surprised. "You do not know of Emrys?" She considered this for a moment. "That can be your favor, if you wish it. I will tell you about him."
Arthur didn't have anything else to ask of the druid, and he was curious, so he nodded. "All right. Yes, tell me about Emrys."
The woman looked delighted at the prospect of sharing the knowledge with him, her voice warm with reverence as she spoke. "Emrys is a creature of magic, the only one of his kind. He is the most powerful sorcerer ever to live. Born with his powers, he did not choose magic, but was chosen by destiny to be magic, not merely have magic. He is your most loyal subject, most faithful friend, and strongest ally. It is his destiny to help you, King Arthur, become the king you are meant to be, as your friend and equal."
It was these impossible words that snapped Arthur out of his dreamlike stupor. Suddenly he was very aware that he was awake. This was real. And something inside him told him these words were important.
"That's not possible," he argued. "Sorcery is punishable by death in Camelot. Why would the most powerful sorcerer in the world be my ally?"
"That is a question you can ask him, when the time comes," she said with a smile. "You will be friends someday, if you are not already."
"What do you mean when you say you feel the mark of his power?"
She considered this for a moment before answering. "It's hard to explain. I can just…sense his power on you. On all of you. He knows you. He has used magic on you. I dare say he isn't far."
"He has used magic on me?" Arthur exclaimed in horror, and the woman looked worried.
"Only for your good, I'm sure, my lord!"
Arthur took a deep breath. "How do you know all this?"
"From the prophecies," the woman said, as though it should be obvious. "The coming of Emrys has been spoken of for a thousand years. And now that the prophecies are coming to pass, I…" she trailed off, thinking. "I can sense it," she said finally. "We all can. I can feel the way magic has shifted within the world. I can feel the hum of the Old Religion. Emrys has risen. He is by your side. He has protected you, again and again. He protects you now." Her eyes glazed over for a moment, and then sharpened again.
"Your time is coming, King Arthur. You sit on the cusp of your destiny." The woman reached out and, to Arthur's shock, laid a gentle hand on his face. "So you must decide, my lord – do people with magic deserve to live?"
The woman smiled at him, almost sympathetically. Then she lowered her hand and stepped back, reaching for the child again. In an instant, both of them disappeared, leaving nothing but a slight whirlwind of leaves where they had previously stood.
Arthur stared at the spot for a long moment before finally looking up. Some of the knights were staring at the place where the druids had disappeared, and others stared at him. Percival and Elyan looked stunned, Leon looked disturbed, and Lancelot looked terrified.
"You have a magical babysitter," Gwaine busted out, breaking the silence with his laughter. "Oh, this is amazing."
"That happened, right?" Arthur asked, ignoring Gwaine and looking to Leon. "I didn't imagine that whole thing?"
Leon nodded dazedly. "It happened, sire," he confirmed.
Arthur stared another moment longer, then turned back to where they had left the horses.
"It's getting late," he said. "We should get back."
They were silent for most of the ride back to Camelot. Gwaine cracked a couple more jokes, but once he realized no one else seemed to find the idea of a powerful sorcerer using magic on them to be all that amusing, he finally gave up.
Arthur's head swam. He didn't know where he should start to try to sort through everything the woman had said. He did know that the one thing standing out in his mind probably wasn't the most important piece of it. But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Three times, she'd called Emrys his friend. And she'd called him his equal.
Arthur didn't have friends who were his equals.
He had friends, of a sort – Merlin and his knights, to start with. They were nearly like brothers; he trusted them completely. But no matter how much he trusted and valued them, they were not equals. He was their king. He supposed he could be friends with a fellow king, if he ever spent enough time with one to develop a friendship, and that would be a friendship between equals. But as it currently stood, every friendship Arthur had was imbalanced in terms of power.
He wondered what it would be like to be friends with someone who did not bow to him.
Of course, the thought was absurd. Sorcery was evil. And illegal. And performing magic on the king and his knights was definitely illegal. There might have been elements of truth in the druid's story, but surely the story as a whole couldn't be true.
And it was all the more poisonous because part of Arthur really wanted to believe it was true.