Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Three
"He asked what?" Arthur asked incredulously.
Leon cleared his throat uncomfortably. "If you were to…execute him, sire, he asked that it be the chopping block or the noose. He said he didn't want to burn."
Arthur needed to punch something. Or throw something. Or break something. But he was a king, and kings showed self-control. They did not have the luxury of throwing hissy fits.
So Arthur settled for slamming his hand into the post of his bed. He struck it with his palm instead of a fist, so he told himself that didn't count as punching something. It still sent a sharp stab of pain through his hand, which was already bruised.
Arthur didn't want to think just then about how it had gotten bruised.
Leon stood silently watching. Arthur could see the questions in his eyes, but he was never more thankful for Leon's loyalty than he was just then. The man was willing to follow Arthur's orders without an explanation, which was something Arthur could not provide.
"Leon," he asked, "what kind of man am I?"
Whatever Leon had expected, that clearly wasn't it. His eyes went wide in surprise, and then his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Sire?"
"The people who know me best in the world apparently don't trust me at all. And if the people who truly know me don't trust me, how can the people of Camelot ever trust me? And then, to have someone who knows everything about me – to have Merlin, who I thought always saw more good in me than I deserved – to have him believe not only that I would kill him, but that I would burn him on the pyre?"
Arthur shook his head, laughing shakily.
"What kind of man am I?" he repeated tiredly, rubbing his hand over his eyes.
"Sire, I don't know what happened with Merlin," Leon said hesitantly, "but I do know that you're a good man and a good king."
Arthur nodded. It wasn't much of a pep talk, but then again, pep talks weren't really part of Leon's job description. That had always been Merlin's job. He had done it admirably well. But apparently he never meant a word of it, if this is who he believed Arthur was.
"I'd like you or Percival to handle everything with him for now," Arthur said. "One of you can bring him his meal each day. If any other interaction is needed, I want it to be handled by one of you. Make sure the guards understand."
Leon nodded and bowed. "Yes, sire." And then he left the room with a haste that Arthur couldn't help but notice, leaving Arthur alone with his aching hand.
That night, Arthur had a nightmare. There was a dark creature who breathed fire. Arthur felt its claws in his skin, the heat of its fire on his face. He could see nothing beyond the creature. It was as though the universe ceased to exist, apart from fear and the pain.
He woke up shaking, but once the nightmare faded, he felt almost grateful. The dream was terrifying, but he preferred it to a dream of his servant burning on a pyre.
That afternoon brought Arthur a visitor he had no desire to see.
George was meticulously scrubbing the table clean from lunch when the knock sounded. He popped up and was at the door before Arthur could even consider pretending he wasn't present.
Of course, it wouldn't really be appropriate to ask George to lie and say he wasn't there. That wasn't really kingly behavior.
He could have asked Merlin, though.
"Gaius!" George greeted him warmly. "Please, come in!" George opened the door wider for Gaius to enter, then turned to Arthur and said unnecessarily, "Sire, Gaius is here."
Arthur took a deep breath. George might not have been the best choice for a replacement servant with Arthur in his current mood. "So he is," he said tightly, not even trying to smile. "George, could you please excuse us?"
George gave a quick, deep bow before exiting the room, leaving Arthur and Gaius in an awkward silence.
"Gwaine came to me after your training today, sire," Gaius said stiffly. "He asked me to come see to your hand."
Arthur glanced down at his hand in surprise. He had almost forgotten about it, although it had given him quite a bit of trouble in training.
"It's fine," he said, clenching and unclenching his fist. "I didn't want to worry you with it since…" he stopped, but Gaius finished the sentence for him.
"Since you broke it on the face of my ward?"
Arthur winced at the thinly veiled anger in the physician's voice.
"You fractured a rib as well, you know." Then Gaius gave a large sigh. "All the same," he said, sitting down next to Arthur and reaching for his hand, "you are the king, and this is your sword hand. It is important that it heal properly. Let me take a look."
Gaius was not particularly gentle as he poked and prodded, making Arthur wince more than once. Arthur wondered if he was doing it on purpose. He wouldn't have blamed him if he was.
"Did you know?" he asked. He hadn't planned on confronting Gaius – at least, not yet. But sitting here in silence, the words slipped out.
"Yes," Gaius said shortly. "The first time we met, I had an accident that would have killed me. Merlin intervened with magic and saved my life."
"So you saw it? He didn't tell you?"
"No, sire," Gaius said. "Merlin doesn't tell anyone. Contrary to what you may think, he does have some degree of a survival instinct, and not telling anyone about his magic has certainly been a matter of survival." He dropped Arthur's hand. "Nothing is broken, but you need to keep it wrapped and avoid using it for at least a week. No exercising. No training. No punching servants." The words might have been humorous in a different context, but the bitterness of Gaius's tone made the statement anything but funny. "Keep it wrapped up, and I'll bring you a poultice this evening to help with the inflammation."
Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Gaius," he said quietly.
Gaius nodded curtly, but to Arthur's surprise, he did not immediately stand.
"I'd like to see him," he said. "I tried, but the guards said he is not to have visitors."
Arthur cringed. "Yes," he confirmed, "I gave the order that no one is to come or go."
"I'd ask that you make an exception for me, sire." Gaius stared at him frankly, and Arthur had to look away. What Gaius was asking for was reasonable, and they both knew it. But Arthur had his reasons for keeping Merlin isolated in the dungeon.
"I'm sorry," he said, still unable to meet the man's eyes. "I cannot grant that right now. You can see him soon, Gaius. Just not yet."
Gaius sighed and stood. "He's loyal to you, sire," he said reproachfully. And even though Gaius didn't say anything else, Arthur could see the rest in his eyes.
Gaius was ashamed of him.
"From what we have been able to gather from the various accounts, it started on the western edge of the kingdom," the young knight explained nervously. He was newer to the position and had never had to give a report from patrol before, and certainly not one with bad news.
"And what do the accounts report?" Arthur asked, clenching his uninjured hand into a fist to keep himself from drumming his fingers on the arm of the throne. He'd had little patience or interest in matters of state over the past few days, but the situation before him now merited genuine concern. He needed to concentrate.
"Well, that's the strange thing, sire," the knight said, fidgeting slightly. "They all report a beast who breathes fire, but no one quite agrees on what it looks like. Some report seeing a lion; others, a dragon. And one man insisted he saw a goat. He was quite sure about it."
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "A goat?" he repeated, and some of those in attendence behind the knight snickered. The knight shrugged, looking a little sheepish.
"That's what the man said, sire."
Arthur sighed. "All right. What else do we know?"
"It has taken livestock once or twice, but it seems to prefer human prey. It's fast, but it doesn't seem to be able to fly, thankfully. And based on the reports, it's moving east."
"Farther into the kingdom," Arthur murmured. "Anything else?"
The knight hesitated. "It might be nothing," he hedged, but Arthur gestured for him to continue. "Everywhere the beast goes…it seems that certain signs precede his arrival.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Signs?"
The knight swallowed. "Nightmares, sire. In each town where the beast attacked, multiple townspeople spoke of having nightmares in the days leading up to the attack. And they spoke of…well, of having a nightmare when the creature attacked. As though the creature was born from the nightmares themselves."
Arthur snorted. "Superstitious nonsense," he dismissed. "But it sounds like the beast is real enough. Another patrol is set to leave this afternoon. Please make sure you have briefed them fully on the situation before they go."
The man bowed and left. Arthur knew what he needed to say next, although the words tasted sour coming out.
"Gaius, do you know anything about a creature like this? If it breathes fire, it seems logical to assume it is a creature of magic."
Arthur had done his best to avoid speaking directly with the physician for the past several days, but Gaius was the resident expert on magic, and Arthur needed information.
It occurred to him that Merlin might actually know more than Gaius about magic. It was an unsettling idea.
"It doesn't sound familiar to me, sire," Gaius admitted, "but I will look into it and see what I can find out."
Arthur nodded. "Thank you. We'll have to deal with this creature, but if possible, I'd rather know what we're dealing with before we ride out to find it."
"Of course, sire." Gaius bowed deeply before leaving the throne room. Arthur wondered if anyone else thought the bow seemed mocking.
Sir Leon did not look happy, although Arthur supposed he couldn't blame him. Last time Arthur had summoned him to his chambers, the knight had been sent to arrest Merlin. Arthur appreciated that Leon – and Percival – had fulfilled their orders without arguing, but he knew it must have been difficult for both men. And now on top of it, they had to keep the whole thing a secret.
"I wanted to thank you," Arthur said from where he sat at the table, goblet in hand, his dinner still untouched on the table. "What you did last week. I know it wasn't easy." He gestured to one of the other chairs. "Please, sit."
Some of the awkwardness faded once Leon was seated as well, the formality of the meeting lessened.
"It was certainly unexpected," Leon said. "And I admit, I'm still quite confused about the whole thing."
Arthur snorted. "You and me both," he muttered into his drink.
Leon hesitated, then pushed ahead. "The other knights are concerned about his absence. Not all of them believe the story about him visiting Ealdor. He was just there a month ago, and it's not like him to just disappear midday. Besides, he doesn't typically stay away this long.
Arthur had known that would be a problem, but a visit to Ealdor was the most likely story he had been able to come up with. No one would believe that he was gone for days collecting herbs for Gaius.
"Thank you for letting me know," he said. It was a problem he'd have to sort out later. "Have you been taking him his meals?"
"Usually, although sometimes Percival handles it," Leon looked curiously at the king. "Why?"
Arthur was silent for a moment. Part of him felt that, on principle, he shouldn't ask. But really, why shouldn't he? And he needed to know.
"How is he?" he said finally.
Leon's face tightened into a frown in response. "Honestly, sire? Not very good. He hasn't really moved. He just sits in the same spot. He hasn't touched the food or drink, or the pain medicine that Gaius provided. And apart from saying 'thank you' each time, he doesn't speak."
Arthur was startled. "He hasn't had anything to eat or drink in five days?"
"Not as far as I can tell," Leon confirmed quietly.
Arthur tilted his head back to study the ceiling and sighed. What kind of game was this? Why would Merlin just sit in the dungeons starving himself?
"Next time you go down, see if you can get him to eat something, or at the very least have something to drink."
Arthur could have sworn he saw the ghost of a smile on Leon's face as the knight nodded, but he chose to ignore it.
"I will do my best," Leon promised.
"Thank you. But Leon?"
"Yes?"
Arthur struggled for a minute to find the right words. "Don't tell him…don't say anything about me. About me telling you to do that."
There was definitely a smile now, in the eyes if not in the expression. "I understand, sire."
"I believe," Gaius said soberly, "that we are dealing with a maera."
The council chambers were empty except for the two of them. The recent tension between them was palpable enough that Arthur wanted to minimize any witnesses to their conversations.
"What is a 'maera'?" he asked.
"Reports on the details vary, sire, but all accounts indicate that it is a combination of creatures. Most reports say that it is a two headed creature with the body of a lion. One head is a lion, and the other is a goat."
Arthur was temporarily stunned out of his discomfort. "Two heads?" he repeated, dumbfounded.
"Yes, sire. And instead of tail, it has the neck and head of a dragon. All the heads breath fire, just as the report from the patrol said, and it has a taste for human flesh."
Arthur shook his head. "I guess that would account for the variety in the reports," he acknowledged, "but it sounds like the story of a child or a drunk."
"Be that as it may," Gaius said, "it sounds like it is real, and it is in Camelot."
"Yes," Arthur admitted tiredly. "It is. Did your research say anything about how to kill it?"
Gaius hesitated for a moment. "The stories say that it lives within nightmares until it decides to feed. Then it is born out of a nightmare, and disappears back into a nightmare when it is done.
Arthur stared at him in shock. "Are you joking? Nightmares?" His own nightmare had recurred twice that week, and now he feared it wasn't a coincidence.
"I'm afraid I'm serious, sire." Then Gaius stood up straighter as though bracing himself, and a scowl overtook his face. "It can only be killed by magic."
Arthur sighed, sinking back into the chair. "Surely that's not true, Gaius. There must be other means of defeating it."
"It is mortal, but nearly unbeatable in its physical form. According to my research, it has only been successfully killed with enchanted swords. No ordinary human weapons seem to be able to harm it."
Gaius paused, giving Arthur a chance to respond, but Arthur remained silent.
"It is more vulnerable in its dream form," he continued, "but only a powerful sorcerer would be able to fight it from within the nightmare. And even then, he would need help. The stories tell of a magical object, the Ainthia, hidden in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. It would enable the sorcerer to face the Maera from within the nightmare."
Arthur leaned his head back, staring up. He seemed to be getting well acquainted with the ceilings of the castle this week.
Gaius had to be wrong. There had to be a way to defeat this thing by ordinary means. The knights of Camelot had no equal in skill and courage; perhaps they would be able to succeed where others had failed.
"Sire, if I may suggest—" Gaius began.
"No," Arthur interrupted, "you may not." Gaius shut his mouth, but his eyes blazed. "We will find another way to defeat it. After all, you told us the same thing about the griffin, and we managed to kill that without magic, didn't we?"
"Actually," Gaius said tersely, "you didn't."
That pulled Arthur up short, his eyes snapping from the ceiling to the physician's face. "What are you talking about?"
"The spear Lancelot used to kill the griffin was enchanted. That's why he was able to succeed where everyone else had failed."
Arthur studied Gaius closely, but he could see no signs that he was lying. "Merlin?" he asked, already knowing the answer, and Gaius nodded. Arthur swore under his breath. "All right. That will be all. Thank you, Gaius."
A creature that could only be killed by magic, and a sorcerer in his dungeons. Arthur may have cut Gaius off before he could make the suggestion, but he knew the next steps were obvious. Inevitable, even.
Damn it.