Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Chapter Nine
They left at dawn. Arthur had argued against waiting even that long, but Percival had reasonably pointed out that the maera might still be in the forest, and it wouldn't do them any good to be forced back into another fight with it.
Merlin checked Leon's wounds one more time before they left. Arthur listened as he expressed surprised delight at how well they were healing, and he saw the relief on Leon's face.
Merlin was acting, of course. He could see that now. The wounds were healing much faster than they should, so as the stand-in physician, Merlin had to seem surprised. Arthur watched how the knights all smiled at the news, and he wondered how many times Merlin had fooled him the same way.
Leon's injuries required them to travel slowly, and more than once, Arthur considered having one of the knights accompany Leon back to Camelot so the rest of the group could move full speed. But every time the suggestion made its way to the tip of his tongue, he held back.
Leon was the only one of the knights who Arthur was absolutely certain was more loyal to him than they would be Merlin, as uncomfortable as that was to admit. Besides, Leon knew more about the current situation between Arthur and Merlin than anyone else. Arthur trusted his loyalty and needed his support right then; the idea of continuing this quest without him was unbearable.
But, Arthur had to admit by that afternoon, watching Leon cringe in pain as he rode was also unbearable.
"Merlin," Arthur asked quietly, dropping back out of earshot of the other knights, "is there anything more you can do for him?"
Merlin followed his gaze and grimaced. "Not without making it obvious that it's magic," he said. "The wounds are already healing at an unbelievable rate. I could lessen his pain, but if I do that, I run the risk of him reopening the wounds because he doesn't have the pain to tell him where his limits are."
Arthur sighed. "You're going to have to tell them. You know that, right?"
Merlin perked up. "Are you serious?"
"Why do you look like that's good news?" Arthur asked, suspicious.
"You said I would have to tell them if you decided to let me stay." Merlin smiled cautiously. "Does this mean you've decided?"
Arthur scowled. He had said that, hadn't he? But all he said now was, "Don't push, Merlin."
"Yes, sire." His face went serious again, but the edges of his mouth still twitched up hopefully.
They reached the Valley of the Fallen Kings shortly before sunset. Arthur stared at the entrance for a long minute before sighing.
"We'll stop here for tonight."
"You don't want to search for the Ainthia right away?" Elyan asked in surprise.
"The Valley of the Fallen Kings has its own dangers," Arthur admitted reluctantly. "It's tempting, but it would be foolish to rush in there in the dark. We don't know what we're looking for or where it is. And the Ainthia aside, we're safer out here than we are in there."
The group ate dinner in relative silence, but afterwards, no one seemed eager to fall asleep. Instead, everyone sat around the fire in uneasy silence, eyeing the dark nervously.
Everyone except for Arthur, who sat by himself off to the side. He knew what had to happen next, but he was dreading it.
"Merlin," he finally suggested, "how about a bedtime story?"
Gwaine snorted. "Bedtime story?"
"Yes," Arthur said tightly. "It turns out Merlin has all kinds of talents we didn't know about. Including telling bedtime stories." He gave his servant a pointed glare.
Merlin looked taken aback, but quickly composed himself. He stared at Arthur for a long moment until Arthur raised an eyebrow expectantly. Merlin swallowed, then gave him a solemn nod.
"Okay. Bedtime story." Merlin rubbed his palms on his knees nervously. He stared into space for a moment thinking, and then he nodded again, this time to himself, and some of the tension seemed to disappear from his shoulders.
"Once there was the son of a dragonlord…"
'A story,' Arthur had said. It had caught Merlin by surprise, but then he was grateful. He had never told this secret before except in answer to Arthur's question, and it would be easier to tell it as a story. He focused his eyes on the flames in front of him and tried to figure out where to start.
"Once there was the son of a dragonlord," Merlin began. "He was born after the Great Purge, when fear of magic was at its height, and anything and anyone associated with magic was killed. The dragonlord loved the boy's mother, so when the armies of Camelot pursued him to put him to death, he fled in order to protect her, not knowing the woman he left behind was expecting a child.
"It did not take long for the mother to realize that her son was no ordinary child. Even as a baby, there would be moments when his eyes would flash gold, and the object he wanted would fly across the room to him. The fire would blaze up larger on a cold night. The milk bucket would mysteriously refill itself. The woman feared what this meant for her son, for she knew that if anyone found out, the child would be put to death, regardless of his age or innocence.
"And so from the moment the child was old enough to understand, he heard the same lesson over and over again.
"You must keep the secret, no matter what.
"The child understood, but struggled to obey. Others found him strange, although they could not tell you why, and for many years, magic was his only friend. So despite the warnings and despite the fear, he used his magic freely and recklessly, keeping his secret only through luck. As he grew, so did his mother's fear. She knew that unless the child could learn to control himself, her son would not live long enough to become a man.
"She knew someone, an old friend who years before had helped the dragonlord whom she had loved. This man knew about magic, but more importantly, he knew about blending in and surviving in a world that hated magic. So she wrote to the man, and he agreed to take the boy in as a ward.
"It was a risky plan, for the man lived in the very heart of the war against magic: in the castle in Camelot. But the mother saw no other option, and so with both fear and hope in her heart, she sent her son away and prayed that she would see him again.
"As the boy walked into Camelot, he saw something that would change his life forever, for two very different reasons.
"In the middle of the courtyard sat a chopping block, the executioner standing ready, guards leading a prisoner to it. And on the balcony stood the king, who declared that the prisoner was sentenced to death for the crime of sorcery."
"The boy watched the ax fall. He saw the man's head roll. And for the first time, he understood what it meant that sorcery was punishable by death. For the first time, he understood what his carelessness could lead to. And so his life was changed.
"Then a scream tore through the crowd – the mother of the executed prisoner, overcome with grief. The woman stepped forward, swearing vengeance on the king; a son for a son. And with that vow, the boy's life was to be changed again, although he did not know it yet.
"Shaken by what he had seen, the boy set out again in search of his new guardian. And after asking directions once or twice, someone finally directed him to the quarters of the court physician."
Merlin heard a sharp gasp from someone, although he kept his focus on the fire instead of caving to the temptation to look at his audience's faces.
"The next morning when he awoke, the boy heard a voice calling to him. But before he could go in search of the source, the physician sent him out on an errand with stern instructions to stay out of trouble. Yet despite his best intentions, trouble found him, for within minutes he met the crown prince of Camelot."
Merlin felt himself smile at the memory, and he had to hold in a laugh. He and Arthur had both been such idiots back then.
"The prince was bullying a servant, and the boy stepped in to stop him. Which is why the boy spent his second night in Camelot in the dungeons."
Merlin heard several snickers from around the fire.
"When he awoke the next morning, he heard a voice calling his name once more. But as before, he was distracted before he could think much about it. He and the prince met again that day, this time in the market. Again, they argued, and this time they fought: a battle with maces. Well, the prince fought with a mace. The boy mostly ran away while holding a mace, using magic to make the prince trip as he pursued him."
"You cheated!" an incredulous voice broke in. Merlin looked up, startled, to see Arthur staring at him in disbelief.
"I used the skills I had at my disposal, just like you," Merlin said loftily before he'd thought it through, prompting laughter from the knights. As the words came out, he prayed that Arthur wasn't genuinely so angry that he couldn't take a joke. Fortunately, Arthur just snapped his mouth shut, scowling. Merlin cleared his throat and continued.
"That night, the boy heard the voice again. This time, he sneaked out and followed it, through the citadel, into a guarded tunnel—"
"How did you get past the guards?" Arthur broke in, indignant, but Merlin ignored the question.
"—and down deep below Camelot. There, he found the one who had called to him: the Great Dragon.
More gasps, which made Merlin smile. Perhaps he wasn't bad at this storytelling thing.
"The Great Dragon looked at the boy and said…" Merlin broke off. He'd gotten ahead of himself, or else he wouldn't have told this part. But now he had started, so he had to finish it. "How small you are for such a great destiny."
The knights roared with laughter at that, but nobody laughed louder than Arthur.
"Stupid dragon," Merlin muttered before starting again. "The boy..." he swallowed, his voice going soft at the memory. "The boy's heart leapt at the mention of 'destiny,' for he had always known he was different, even from others who had magic, and he had always wondered why. He wished, more than anything, for a purpose to his magic.
"But then the dragon told him of the destiny. That the prince would one day be a great king – the Once and Future King – and it was the boy's destiny to help him. To protect him. This was not the destiny the boy had in mind. The boy said that the dragon must be talking about a different prince, because this one was an idiot."
Merlin risked a glance at Arthur. The king was staring at the ground in front of him, but his shoulders shook with a brief chuckle.
"But the dragon insisted that the boy could not escape his destiny. And the next night, there was a royal feast, with a renowned singer for entertainment. The physician was able to get the boy a job working as an attendant for the evening, so the boy was present when the singer began to cast a spell on the room, putting the guests to sleep. He used his magic to drop a chandelier on the woman, who was in fact the mother of the executed prisoner in disguise. The enchantment broke when the woman fell, but before she drew her last breath, she flung a dagger at the chest of the prince.
"The boy saw what was happening, and used his magic to slow time so that he could grab the prince and pull him out of harm's way. And so he saved the prince's life for the first time. And in gratitude, the king awarded the boy a position in the royal household as the prince's personal manservant, much to the horror of both the boy and the prince."
Merlin paused, and he couldn't help smiling.
"And so the dragon was right; the boy could not escape his destiny, for he spent his life from that day forward helping and protecting the prince. Who, as it turned out, was only sometimes an idiot and not nearly as much of an arrogant prat as he first seemed. Still a bit of a prat though. Obviously. But he loved his people, and soon the boy knew that the dragon had spoken the truth: he would indeed one day be a great king."
Merlin finally looked up to find Arthur watching him. He wasn't sure how the king would respond to the story, but for the first time since Merlin had confessed his secret, Arthur's face wasn't cold and closed off. Instead, Arthur gave him a slight nod and a trace of a smile.
There was a moment of heavy silence. Then Gwaine spoke up. "You're really a sorcerer?" he asked, and Merlin felt a pang of encouragement when he heard awe rather than judgment in his voice. He looked up nervously to see Gwaine grinning at him. Swallowing, he nodded. The knight chuckled, looking away and shaking his head before turning back to Merlin. "A sorcerer," he repeated to himself. "Cursed with a destiny to help Arthur."
"Hey," Arthur protested half-heartedly.
"Was the bit about doing magic as a baby true?" Percival asked skeptically. He was studying Merlin closely, like he'd never seen him before.
"Yes. It absolutely terrified my mother."
"I've never heard of a sorcerer who didn't have to train to learn magic."
"That's because there aren't any," Merlin admitted slowly. "Besides me."
"Any?" Arthur repeated in surprise.
Merlin shook his head. "Gaius says he's never heard of anyone having magic like mine. I'm a mon—" he stopped himself and tried again. "I'm unusual, even among sorcerers. More than unusual. Unique. Or so I'm told."
"This is what happened last week," Leon said softly, but when Merlin looked at him, he was looking at Arthur.
Arthur's jaw clenched, and he nodded.
"This is why you punched him?" Gwaine asked incredulously, and Merlin cringed as he saw the outrage come into his eyes.
Arthur sighed. "In my – admittedly, very poor – defense, I honestly thought he would punch me back. He has taken a swing at me before, after all. More than once."
Elyan finally asked the obvious question. "So what now? I mean, he's here and not in jail or being executed – not that I'm complaining – so…what does that mean?"
Arthur stood up and walked over, joining the circle. "I don't know," he admitted, meeting Merlin's eyes. "I'm still trying to figure this out. But the maera can't be defeated without magic, so for now…well, we need a sorcerer."
"Can your magic beat the maera?" Gwaine asked seriously.
Merin winced at the question. "If it could, I already would have," he said. "But it looks like I'm pretty useless without the Ainthia."
"And with the Ainthia?" Elyan asked, and Merlin shrugged helplessly.
"I hope so. I guess we'll find out."
"You mean for Merlin to fight it," Percival realized, looking to Arthur. "Alone?" Arthur turned away and nodded.
"I think he's the only one who stands a chance."