Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Fourteen
Arthur stared at Lancelot in confusion, trying to make sense of the expression on his face. Did Lancelot not believe that Emrys would come? Arthur hadn't exactly been friendly or receptive to the idea of his existence. Maybe Merlin was right. Maybe he had pushed Emrys from someone who had been his friend to someone who chose to be his enemy.
And yet, Arthur couldn't stop that seed of hope.
He felt foolish even thinking it. They were trapped. There was a sword to his throat. There was no hope. But the druid's words came back to him. Emrys has risen. He is by your side. He has protected you, again and again. He protects you now.
Somehow, Maelor must have read the look on Arthur's face. Or, more disturbingly, perhaps he read Arthur's mind. Either way, he chuckled.
"Emrys is not here, your majesty. I already checked. The only magic I sense nearby is our own." He looked pleased at that. "It seems someone in your party must have disturbed one of our temples. Although I cannot tell who," he mused, troubled. "Perhaps he has already died, and I only sense the magic remaining in his body?"
Already died? The words took Arthur's breath away. Merlin was in that cave alone, and he was going to…
No. No, he wouldn't. Somehow Arthur and his knights would find a way out of this, and then they would take Merlin and get him to Gaius. And Gaius would figure it out, like he always did. Sometimes it was last minute, but Gaius always came through.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur bluffed, hoping the priest wouldn't send someone to try to sniff out the source of the magic. "What temple?"
Maelor raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't be here if you hadn't found a temple."
It only took Arthur a moment to understand. "It was a trap," he realized, closing his eyes briefly against the knowledge. "The map led us here. And it was a trap."
"Nothing so elaborate as that," Maelor said wryly. "The temple maps merely mark the sacred places, and we tend to stay near the sacred places where the magic of the Old Religion can strengthen us. It is hardly our fault that you violated a holy temple and then followed the map to a place where you, a Pendragon, an enemy of magic, had no place being. Your arrogance trapped you, your majesty, not I. But I will happily allow destiny to wield me as the weapon that will bring you to your end."
Arthur tightened his grip. So this was it. His sword against magic. If he could take Maelor by surprise, he might be able to kill him before the sorcerer realized what was happening. With any luck, the others would scatter without their leader. If not, they'd fight and hope for the best. He tensed, readying himself to attack.
And then a calm voice cut across the clearing. But it was not the voice of the savior Arthur had hoped for.
"You should lower your sword."
Arthur's head snapped to the right at the sound and his eyes widened with horror.
Merlin stood just this side of the trees. His face was flushed and his eyes wild, but Arthur couldn't tell for sure whether it was from the fever or from fury.
Why was his idiot servant so determined to protect him? And why hadn't he at least brought a sword with him, even if wouldn't help?
Possibly, Arthur realized, because he was too weak to carry one at the moment.
It hit Arthur that Merlin was going to die with the rest of them.
Maelor's eyes turned gold, and Arthur waited. Waited for Merlin to go flying through the air or to fall to the ground, or for…well, anything. But nothing happened, apart from Merlin blinking and looking slightly puzzled for a moment. Instead, the gold faded from Maelor's eyes and the rage fell from his expression. Then, inexplicably, he took a half-step step back and lowered his sword slightly, leaving a foot of space between the blade and Arthur's neck.
"You…" Maelor whispered, eyes wide. "You're here. You came. But how…?" Arthur couldn't name the look on his face. It almost seemed like awe, but looking back at Merlin, that made no sense. Merlin was, if anything, less impressive than usual at the moment, his body shivering and his skin pale except for where it burned red.
"Put the sword down," Merlin ordered, taking a step closer.
"Do you know who he is?" Maelor demanded, gesturing toward Arthur with the blade. "Do you know what he's done?"
Merlin laughed tiredly, looking genuinely amused. "Yes, I know who he is."
"He has spent his life persecuting magic! How many innocent people have died at his hands? How many times has his arrogance triumphed over justice?"
Merlin sighed. "I will never understand," he pondered, sounding weary and oddly philosophical, "why, when I find myself in these situations, people seem to feel the need to start lecturing me about Arthur's history and character. Do you honestly think you're going to tell me something I don't already know?"
Arthur stared at him in confusion. These situations? How often did Merlin find himself in situations like this?
"If you know what he has done, then you know what must be done next." Maelor raised his sword again, returning his gaze to Arthur's face.
"I will only tell you once more," Merlin warned. "Lower your sword."
Slowly, a knowing smile crept across Maelor's face as he stared hard at the king, although Arthur didn't know what the sorcerer saw that prompted such a look. "He doesn't know, does he?" the sorcerer said slowly. "For all your loyalty and everything you do for him, he has no idea who you truly are. What you truly are." He pressed his sword closer, and Arthur could feel the cold of the metal against his skin.
In the back of his mind, Arthur felt the inevitable flurry of alarm that came with feeling a blade at his throat, but the bulk of his focus was on Maelor's words. There was an idea pushing for entrance into his thoughts, had been pushing since Maelor's eyes turned gold and Merlin didn't fall, and Arthur couldn't quite bring himself to open the door for it. But whether he acknowledged the idea or not, something akin to panic flooded his body in response to it.
"If you want me to lower the sword, Emrys," Maelor suggested lightly, "why don't you simply use your magic to lower it for me? Surely your legendary power is enough for such a simple task."
And there it was.
Emrys.
Maelor was mistaken. Merlin was not Emrys. Merlin did not have magic.
But even as Arthur tried to reason with himself, the pieces started falling into place.
Merlin's response was calm. Flat, even. "If you force me to use magic today, I give you my word, my magic will be the last thing you ever see." His tone was strangely devoid of menace, yet Arthur still felt himself shudder in response.
Maelor's eyes widened with a flicker of fear. He took a step back, finally lowering the sword to his side.
"Do you think your king will spare you just because you saved his life? He will execute you tomorrow, Emrys. Your friendship will be forgotten, and he will watch you burn in the flames of the pyre as he has watched so many others."
No. Arthur didn't know what he was going to do, but not that. He didn't think he would have done that to Emrys, regardless of who he turned out to be, but he certainly wasn't going to do it to Merlin.
And Merlin knew that. Arthur expected him to argue with Maelor, to declare that Arthur would never do such a thing.
Instead, Merlin said, "Arthur will choose whatever path he believes to be right and just. If he believes he will serve justice by executing me, then so be it."
Maelor stared in shock. "What's wrong with you?" he asked incredulously. "You would choose to die willingly at the hands of a tyrant?"
"He's not a tyrant. He is an honorable king. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that whatever decisions Arthur makes, he makes for the good of the people of Camelot."
Maelor scoffed and rubbed his temple as though he had a headache. Strangely enough, Arthur found himself siding with the priest. What was wrong with Merlin? He thought Arthur might have him executed? And he would just give himself up to death?
Maybe it was the fever. Arthur hoped it was the fever.
"Emrys, destiny has a greater plan for you than martyrdom. You can make the world safe for your kin again. You can be with people like yourself." There was frustration in Maelor's voice, but Arthur could also hear pleading in it. "Don't you think you owe your allegiance to your own kind?"
Merlin's reply was swift and sharp. "There is no one like me. And you are no more my kin than the fish in the sea or the rock on which I stand." For a moment, Merlin became a stranger as he spoke. There was something foreign in his eyes, something pained and haunted that Arthur couldn't quite name. "I have no 'kind,' and I owe my allegiance to no one. It is mine to give freely to whomever I choose, and I have chosen. I am loyal to King Arthur."
Arthur felt something tug inside of him. The bluntness of the statement, the simplicity of it, and the undeniable sincerity. I am loyal to King Arthur. It reminded him of something Merlin had said weeks before: I believe he keeps you alive, Arthur. As far as I'm concerned, that means his life has value. Those words took on a different meaning now that Arthur knew Merlin was speaking about himself, and he felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly at the realization.
"Your loyalty has blinded you to the need around you," Maelor insisted, the sword in his hand twitching. "If the king were dead, you would see the truth. You are needed if magic is to return to Camelot."
Merlin took another step closer. "You will not raise a hand against the king."
Maelor paused. Though not an explicit threat, Merlin's meaning was clear.
"Look around you, Emrys." Maelor gestured to the crowd behind him, and Arthur blinked in surprise. He had almost forgotten they had an audience. Despite the number of people, they had not made a single sound. In fact, they were eerie in their stillness and silence. Some of the Deilen looked hungry and angry while others stared at Merlin with something bordering on reverence, but not one of them moved. They hardly seemed to breathe as they watched the show unfolding before them.
"Do you honestly believe you're capable of defeating forty priests of the Deilen?" Pride came over Maelor's face. "Surely you have heard of our power."
Some of the fevered wildness faded from Merlin's eyes, replaced with a hard lucidity, and his lips twisted into a smile that chilled Arthur. When he spoke, his voice was soft and cold.
"Oh, you have no idea what I'm capable of."
He stepped towards Maelor again, and this time Maelor stepped back. Merlin continued until he was standing just feet in front of Arthur.
His breath came more quickly now, and Arthur noticed with concern that Merlin wobbled slightly as he took another step, violent shivers racking his body.
Merlin must have noticed it as well, because he glared at Maelor and declared, "Enough." He turned away from the high priest to face the crowd watching him. "This is done. Leave. All of you." His voice was tired, but firm.
Maelor stared at Merlin in confusion for a moment before letting out a half laugh. "What?"
Merlin sighed heavily. "Leave," he repeated, drawing the word out slowly as though he thought perhaps Maelor genuinely hadn't understood him.
The sorcerer continued to stare at him blankly. The priests on the ridge exchanged uncertain looks and Arthur heard a few low murmurs, but no one moved.
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered under his breath before raising his voice again. "I don't want to kill you all, but I will if I have to. So I am going to start counting. When I reach ten, everyone still on this ridge dies. There will be no second chances. One. Two. Three."
For a moment, most of the faces filled with surprise or confusion. Once Merlin hit four, with the background noise of a loud crash of thunder, the reality of Merlin's threat seemed to sink in.
Unexpectedly, it was the sorceress from the courtyard who moved first. She smiled at Merlin, then lowered her head in a bow.
She bowed.
To Merlin.
And then she turned and fled for the trees, and the dam seemed to burst as the entire contingent of Deilen priests bolted for the woods after her. Arthur noted with a detached disbelief that most of them looked genuinely frightened.
Maelor didn't move until seven. By then, only a few of his companions were still visible, their backs merely blurs of color as they ran from Merlin. The high priest's face contorted with frustration, but he must have realized he could not face Merlin alone, and with one last spiteful glare at Arthur, he turned and fled as well.
"Nine. Ten."
Maelor's back was still visible, and Arthur could see the indecision in Merlin's eyes. He started to raise his hand, then stopped. A moment later, Maelor disappeared from view.
Merlin stayed where he was, staring at the spot where Maelor had vanished. He had a tortured look on his face that Arthur didn't understand; his eyes were vague and distant, and his breath came fast and shallow.
Behind him, Arthur heard someone sheath their sword, and then Lancelot stepped around him and approached Merlin, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
Lancelot knew. The knowledge struck Arthur anew, although he was still too stunned to associate any emotions with the thought. Lancelot knew Merlin was Emrys.
"Merlin." Lancelot spoke his name softly, but Merlin didn't even seem to realize he was there. "Merlin," Lancelot repeated, and this time, Merlin shoved the knight's hand off of his shoulder in response.
"Forty sorcerers. Forty priests of the Old Religion. And they all just ran from me," Merlin muttered with a bitter laugh. "They were terrified. Of me. And I didn't so much as conjure a butterfly." He turned and pushed past Lancelot, adding in a low voice that Arthur could nonetheless hear, "Still think I'm not a monster?"
He stumbled as he reached the trees, but caught himself against a trunk. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath and disappeared into the forest, leaving Arthur and the knights behind.
AN: I have officially finished rewriting/adding everything I planned! I can now honestly say (again) the story is fully written and just needs polishing and proofreading. It did get significantly longer in the process, but oh well. I guess this will just be a much longer story than I intended. Hopefully I can keep everyone's attention long enough to make it to the end!