A/N: Just to keep track of time, this happens the same day as the past chapter, exactly after the ending.
"The Choices That Made Us"
"The capacity to learn is a gift. The ability to learn is a skill. The willingness to learn is a choice" Brian Herbert-
If you had told Arthur a few months ago that he one day would be sitting on the grass in Ealdor, waiting patiently for Merlin—his manservant, for God's sake—to start a lesson on magic, Arthur would have not only laughed, but probably threatened you for saying such things about his friend—and yet, here he was. Life was funny that way.
"Well, first things first, then." Merlin said after a moment, he opened his hands and mouth but nothing came out. The unreality of it all made him bit this tongue in case he laughed. He had seen this in his head a thousand times, he had practiced how he would tell Arthur and what words would he use, but now that he had Arthur in front of him, patiently—a miracle by itself— waiting for him to explain the very concept of magic, was as unsettling as the silence that followed. He opened and closed his mouth twice before he shook his head, amused with himself. "I don't even know where to start."
Arthur scoffed and looked to the side, they had talked about this before, granted, but never in hopes for Arthur to understand magic. Magic was something Merlin did, something that Merlin and that was the end of it. Arthur understands, admires and tolerates it, but he never dreamed on actually studying it. However, instead of saying a crude remark he chose to help his friend out. "Well, first things first." He repeated and clapped his hands. "Magic: how does it work? Why only a few people are born with it? Why not me, for example?"
Merlin bit the inside of his cheeks. Merlin has the theory that Arthur has magic inside him. Arthur had been born out of magic and his mother had died because of it, as horrible as that thought was the truth remained: If Arthur was born out of magic, wasn't Arthur a magical creature too? Of course, that was just a theory, in the end, even if Arthur doesn't have even the most minimal ounce of magic in his body Merlin was sure it would be beneficial for Albion.
"I think everybody is born with magic, some with greater quantities than others—why? I don't know, I have asked the same for years. Why me, for example?" He quoted Arthur. "Apparently I'm the most powerful sorcerer to ever wander the earth, why me? Sometimes there are no real answers for our questions." Merlin shook his head before his eyes shined gold, little specks of condensed light danced between them for a moment before Merlin let his magic die. "Magic for me, it's like… this entity around us, it's in the air we breathe and the ground we touch. I can feel it all the time, everywhere. I had grown so used to its presence that now its second nature to me, but why magic exist it's something I don't know. Not even the dragon knows."
"So it's like a force of nature." Arthur compressed the information into something he could understand easily. "Something that lives in all living things?"
Merlin nodded. "You could say, but I don't know why some people are blessed with it more than others. Kilgharrah says that the entire world is a balance of things: decisions that come with repercussions, to take a life death must follow, to give life death relents. I guess for people to have magic you will need people who don't, otherwise if everybody had magic… what would become of us?"
"Magic would be the normal…" Arthur pondered and tried to imagine a world where his father could use magic. The image never came to his mind. He scoffed. "Can you imagine? The wars that could have taken place, the eagerness of power between royals sorcerers?"
"I don't see much difference." Merlin pointed out and Arthur for once had to agree with that. "Magic, though, it's not pure evil. "
"You keep talking about magic like it's a living thing, I have noticed for a few weeks."
"It's because it is a living thing, not many sorcerers agree with that point of view— since you are the once who decides how to handle it but—for example," Merlin added seeing Arthur's confused face, apparently the prince believed that everything that was something he could not see, touch, or talk with could not, by any means, be considered a living thing. "Whenever you are in danger I feel it vibrating in my chest, ready to serve its purpose, that happens every time either you, Lancelot, Gaius, Gwaine or my friends are in trouble. It just… it begs me to use it, sometimes it even acts on its own."
"How can magic act on its own?" Arthur said leaning forward. "Wouldn't that be… bad?"
"Not necessarily. I believe magic it's linked to nature and to the person, we function as a vessel, and we use the magic we are gifted with in different aspects, a bond that is ever growing and ever present. If you are well intentioned… well, your magic will do your bidding."
"This has happened to you. When?" Arthur pressed and Merlin raised his brows. "Oh, c'mon, you wanted me to know things didn't you? Speak."
"Well… the first year I worked for you, remember I fell ill? You needed to go to a faraway cave and find a few flowers, at least that was Gaius told me."
Arthur nodded and leaned back, hands at his side and a long suffering sigh. "Back when a woman—Nimueh or something like that— tried to poison me. I remember. You drank the bloody thing and saved my life… for the second time." He spat.
"Like for the tenth time but we will leave it at that."
Arthur scoffed and kicked Merlin's leg. "You know Merlin? I'm going to start writing a list of all the times I have saved your sorry ass too. In case you don't remember I went to the cave, retrieved the flowers and saved your life, we are even, besides—"suddenly Arthur sat up straighter. "Wait, when I went to that cave… I mean, it had been so surreal I had practically forgotten about it but… there was a bubble of light there, it was silver and warm… and it helped me reach the exist." Merlin smirked and Arthur almost gaped. "That was you? Can you… leave your body?!"
"I didn't do it consciously!" Merlin raised his arms. "And if makes you feel better, it wasn't me, me, it was just a bit of my magic that went to help you, I recovered the memories days later, didn't think much of it. Gaius said he had never seen something like that before either."
Arthur consciously closed his mouth with a snap, he nodded to himself as he looked to the side. Alright, this was normal, perfectly normal. "Alright…"
"Too much?"
"A bit too much, yes." Arthur let all the air in his lungs go and his hands pressed his hair back. "I guess magic chooses you then, not the other way around, alright. Normal. Perfectly normal."
"It's not normal."
"No, it clearly isn't but can we pretend, Merlin? I'm doing an effort."
Merlin smirked but raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, so… yes, magic it's a living thing, like nature, I believe it's linked with nature at least."
"I have a question, though," Arthur said quickly, wanting to drift away from the fact that Merlin's magic could transport to where Arthur was. Unbelievable. "How someone realizes has magic? It's different for everybody, I imagine. I mean, Hunith doesn't have magic, does she? But you were born with magic, was that because of your father? How does it feel to have magic to start with? Does it feel like how it felt when you touched the stone, back in my father's room?"
Merlin blinked at the sudden waterfall of questions. "Very close like that, yes, it's like a constant warmth around me but also electrical or cold, depends on the spells. Most of the time, though, it's like a quiet tingling or buzz in my veins."
"Isn't it annoying?"
"Is annoying to breathe?" Merlin asked back and Arthur nodded seeing the point.
"It's so unreal to be so different," Arthur said out loud before he cleared his throat. "I mean— the difference between magical and not magical people it's not obvious, it's not a mark… you can't tell the difference between a sorcerer and a normal person just by sight. Sorry, not that you are not normal but—you get the point."
"That's alright." Merlin shrugged easily and Arthur felt a pang of guilt, probably being called 'not normal' is at the bottom of the list of names Merlin had probably been labeled through the years. Arthur should know; his father called magical people horrendous names.
"In any case, magic has its own advantages. A sword can only kill you when you are within reach; magic has a whole other range of attack. Quite unfair if you ask me." Arthur cleared his throat in an effort to keep the conversation going.
"And yet a lot of sorcerers have died with a very well thrown arrow or a poisoned chalice," Merlin said looking down, spotting the book at his feet. "Well, that brings us to the first lesson of the day. Types of magic. Just like with weapons there are different types of magic, different 'stones' to build with as to speak, and for each of us it's different. The same way a warrior has a preferred weapon in the armory."
At that, Merlin opened the book and once he found the page he was looking before he gave it to Arthur.
"There are six stones that every sorcerer can train with, you can excel at all of them but there will always be one you feel connected the most to. The first two stones are creation and ravage. You can create as you can destroy." Merlin pointed to an image of a faceless man with long robes; in his hands spread wide at his sides were two runes that Arthur did not recognize. At his feet, a sleeping dragon was resting, and flying over his head was an eagle. For the book to be so old Arthur could see every detail on the scales of the dragon. Even the bloody book was magical.
"If your magic serves to create you might be good with potions, leadership, you can fix things with just a thought. The druids, one of the many ramifications of magic, are mostly creators, not all of them but most. Creators can build magical trinkets that otherwise could not exist." Merlin said aware of the many things that the druids have built, chalices, the goblet of life. "If you have the opposite you can use it for battle and wars, people with this kind of magic are great when it comes to blowing things up. Years ago, before the great purge, sorcerers will take part into wars in the name of their kings since they are extremely loyal. These types of sorcerers were the ones who managed to escape when Uther demanded their annihilation, either by hiding or changing alliances." Merlin stated flatly, his voice not sad or reproachful; Arthur raised his eyes and struggled for something to say before Merlin shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Arthur," Merlin smiled softly but it didn't reach his eyes. "I have never held your father's crimes against you. I'm not about to start."
Arthur nodded, letting the silence prolong for a moment. The only bad thing about being friends Merlin's was that, inadvertently, Merlin made him want to hate his Father, something he would never be able to, not truly, but deep down Arthur knew, he knew that all the hate his Father received from sorcerers around the kingdom was justified. A horrible thought to ponder about.
On the other side of the page was the same faceless man, just this time a dark blue crow was standing on his shoulder and around his leg a snake was curling. Again the man in the book had his arms spread, this time to the front, and in each hand was again a rune, he did not understand runes but he understood the names at the border of the page.
"Healers magic, interesting. I bet this is Gaius kind of magic?"
Merlin blinked as he came back from his thoughts. "I thought that too at the beginning, but actually, he's a creator. He spends his time making potions, doesn't he? Once he could do all sorts of things but without practice his magic is almost as good as gone, he told me that once, years before he I was even born, he was able to craft all kinds of things. Actually, a lot of the trinkets on his chambers were manufactured by him, however, he cannot heal people with spells, like healers can." Merlin said, remembering how Gaius has tried to heal people with magic before and have failed. "It usually comes hand in hand but it's been years since Gaius has attempted to use it. Using that kind of magic leaves you exhausted. You need an incredible amount of magic, perfect pronunciation and a great deal of confidence, confusing or mixing words can be a mortal mistake, magic could work on muscles and veins that were not injured to being with. I have heard stories, where people end up worse than when they sought help."
Arthur nodded and out of reflex he ran his hand along his leg remembering when Merlin had healed him a few weeks ago, Merlin had not even doubted. He wondered if Merlin could use all stones perfectly and scoffed inwardly; this was Emrys, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk this earth. Fantastic. Merlin was a genius! Arthur did not believe in parallel universes. He did then.
"So there must be an opposite to healing, then?" Arthur eyes moved around the words in the book and found the fourth stone, he read out loud. "'Eradicate. Sorcerers with this stone are experts at potions, venoms, stealth and can locate a malfunction in a person's body quicker than a healer. They have an easy bond with nature, since their magic is heavily connected to the life of a forest. Good with mental control. Masters of plagues.'" Arthur finished reading, pondering for a moment what he had read. "For every good there's evil, even in magic. For creation you can destroy, to heal you can inflict pain."
"To take something you have to offer. To win something you have to lose. Magic has its own rules." Merlin quickly began talking, not wanting to dwell much on that, let Arthur remember awful events of his past. "but your stone does not mean you are good or evil, though, there were creators who invented horrible artifacts, some of them survived the great purge because of that. They sold magical weapons to kings and queens in order to torture sorcerers; I know because I have seen what is left of those inventions in the dungeons of Camelot. Cells with chains and manacles that are made with magical steel, if a sorcerer touches them you get burned, they give you terrible headaches if you try to use magic while using them. Cells with magical bars, so once you are imprisioned your magic gets caged along with you."
Arthur bleached and placed his hands in front of him, like begging Merlin to stop taking. "You mean… you—and my father knows about this? Of course the man knows about this. He probably had those sorcerers tortured so they could build them! Have you ever… have I ever sent you to one of those?" Arthur has sent Merlin into the dungeons cells more times than he is willing to accept. Sometimes because Merlin had deserved it and others because Merlin found himself in extremely delicate positions that ended up with him caged and Arthur with bailing him out.
Merlin shook his head and Arthur felt torn between being angered or relieved. He settled to look down at the book. Learning about magic also means he learns about the crimes committed against Merlin's people. To understand all the harm his father caused. To think about all the people that had endured horrible deaths… all because his father had been scared.
"This is my favorite stone," Merlin said after a moment, bringing Arthur out from his stupor. Arthur blinked down at the book. The same faceless man was there, this time one of his hands was close to his chest, while the other one was at level with the side of his face. A lion was standing at the right side of the man, looking fiercely to the front. Then, perched royally on the right shoulder of the man was a phoenix.
Arthur felt his heart constrict and blinked furiously when he saw both titles: The stone of servitude and protection and the stone of prevalence and justice. Merlin didn't notice his struggle as he babbled.
"It took a while to understand my magic. My mother didn't own any books so all I knew was what I thought I knew, then I came to Camelot to live with Gaius… it changed things. I had books and a room to practice. I got better. This was the first book I read."
Merlin remembered feeling like none of the stones fitted him. He felt excluded again, even from magic, however, after the Dragon told him his destiny it had been quite clear to him.
"Your stone it's to serve and protect." Arthur nodded and finally looked up. "Bloody hell, Merlin. It describes you perfectly."
Merlin smirked and nodded like a child, excited that Arthur thought so too. "Right? Gaius says I could be a perfect creator if I wanted but truth is ever since I was born that's what I have been good at. I'm good at protecting people and that's when my magic comes the strongest. That is why it doesn't matter what kind of spell I use (Destroy, build, heal or eradicate). If I use it to protect someone it will be a powerful spell, even when I attack I do it out of the desire to help someone else, never to blatantly harm another or achieve power from it. That is what the dragon believes at least, that I'm a master of all stones, I just think I'm lucky."
Arthur thought that nothing of this was luck. He understood better now what Lancelot had told him months ago. Magic had chosen no better vessel to trust, Merlin could never hurt anyone, ever.
"You say its luck but didn't you say it was bloody destiny?" Arthur asked.
"At first, yes, when Kilgharrah first told me I had to protect you I almost fled the city. We had just met and you were a total prat, I mean it, back then you were an insufferable ass. You still are an ass, just not an insufferable one." At this the sorcerer chuckled and Arthur tilted his head, not annoyed but curious on what had made Merlin change his mind if he thought so ill of him. "I thought there must have been a mistake, another Prince Arthur because I really couldn't see how I was supposed to protect you when I disliked you so much. You were pretentious, condescending and careless— a royal bully, really. ('Thank you, Merlin, you do know how to make a friend feel better' Arthur said sarcastically) I didn't want to work for you, I didn't want to protect you, I just wanted to learn magic from Gaius and help him around. I didn't want royal duties or your father's favor... and then you were attacked by that singer impostor. It was never my intention to save you, trust me, I just… moved. I did it because I couldn't just let you die. My magic compelled me to help and I did. Then I understood I would have done that for anybody."
"Then what changed?" Arthur said easily. Arthur had not been happy himself when Merlin was rewarded as his manservant so he could kind of see the point. He looked down to the book and stared down at the lion, Arthur felt like if he blinked the lion might roar. "Why at first and not anymore? Because it was destiny?"
"Because it became a choice," Merlin stated and Arthur looked up just in time to see Merlin pointedly look to the side.
Arthur didn't have the heart to laugh at him, so he just looked down the book again. Arthur went through the pages half-reading about the stones. Since Merlin had told him they a destiny to fulfill Arthur had given on the occasional thought that Merlin was into this to fulfill a roll, a destiny that had been prophesied before they were born. It was good to hear Merlin was his friend because he wanted to be.
After a few more minutes where Arthur learned to memory all the six stones, what they could do and how sorcerers worked with them Arthur finally got the courage to look up.
"Thank you, Merlin." Arthur said hoping his 'thank you' covered the long list he was grateful for and pushed the book into Merlin's hands once again. "Now, enough of emotional talk and on with the important things, it's all good to know about the magical stones but what about actual spells. As interesting as the history of magic is let's focus on how that knowledge will keep me alive."
"Would have hated to be your history teacher when you were younger, alright, third chapter: elements." Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the book opened instantly, he shoved the book back at Arthur's hands. "There are five types of elements on earth and each sorcerer has a natural bond with at least one."
The page had the man from before, this time, though, it was just his silhouette and around him at equal intervals were five circles, all painted in different colors: blue, green, white, yellow and red.
"Water, earth, air, lighting and fire," Merlin said pointing in order. "Every sorcerer has a bond with at least one of them."
Arthur whistled. "And here I am thinking that nature doesn't bend to human will." He looked up at Merlin as he narrowed his eyes. "What's your element—oh,let me guess, all of them?"
"All of them," Merlin grinned and for once Arthur let him enjoy the moment. "Impressed, uh?"
"With your clumsiness, Merlin, I'm only impressed you have managed to survive this long, but how do you know?" Arthur asked curiously. "Is there a test or something, or you just…know?"
"There is, actually, as much as you think Magic is a free thing, Arthur, it isn't, it has all kinds of different rules. Maybe in the future I will show you, but what's it's important now is for you to learn to differentiate them so you can defend yourself against Morgana." Merlin said as he took the book from Arthur. The prince wondered what type of magic she had and how was he supposed to fight against her. "All spells, no matter what, come from these elements, learn to distinguish each of them and you will be able to fight them. Learn this and you will be able to anticipate your enemies' moves."
"That's it? Sounds easy enough, Merlin. There are just five types of elements, do you have any idea of how many stances and fighting moves do I know? Dozens." Arthur said petulantly as he stood up. "C'mon, let's get this over with before meal time."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Arthur realized they were not going to be back in Ealdor for meal time, probably they wouldn't be back in time for dinner either. Hours have passed and Arthur had yet to figure out the difference between a thousand different spells.
The task was rather simple: Merlin would throw a spell and Arthur would have to guess what it was before it was obvious. Arthur realized with grim certainty that the task was neither obvious nor easy.
Merlin began performing a spell.
"Fire." Arthur threw the response before Merlin finished.
"Lighting." Merlin corrected as a little yellowish bolt flew from his hand, exploding a boulder several yards away. Merlin had been throwing spells to the opposite side of the clear. Arthur thought it looked more like a warzone than a practice field.
"I just can't see the bloody difference, let alone when you don't even speak." Arthur said annoyed with himself. He had gotten almost all spells wrong, and whenever he gets it right it was good luck. He wasn't about to fool himself that he knew.
"I could talk but Morgana won't. I have fought her before and she uses almost no words. It's mental control as it best, that means she's well trained." Merlin explained for the fifth time as he lowered his hands and crossed his arms. "And her attacks most of the time are… colorless? I'm giving you the advantage that after I perform it you can more or less see if it will be a bolt, a raging fire, or a little tornado."
"Then you shouldn't do that either." Arthur shook his head adamantly, he always knew what the attack was after Merlin performed it, but he needed to know before time. The precious two seconds he wasted after that were the two second that would cost him his life. He needed to know in advance but how? If Morgana was paired with another sorcerer it was safe to assume it was a sorcerer as strong as her, so how to outwit them?
"I don't know how else to explain." Merlin shrugged tiredly. "I have never needed to explain this to anybody before."
Arthur scratched his chin in deep thought. Magic training was incredibly different from knight practice, there, when you want to show a new guard a movement; you make him repeat it endless along with you, but here? He couldn't do magic, so he couldn't understand how it felt, how it worked. It was beyond frustrating. After a moment, he just motioned for Merlin to keep throwing spells, but this time, he settled to just watch.
"Aren't you going to try and guess?" Merlin said after a few shots. He was aware that Arthur was watching him, analyzing his movements and Merlin suddenly felt very self-conscious. He lowered his arms. "What?"
Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Just keep going. I have an idea."
Merlin sighed but relented, he had enjoyed the task at the begging, Arthur's faces were incredibly amusing but four hours later it had not only gotten boring for the sorcerer but annoying for the prince, especially since neither of them was getting results. If anything Merlin had begun to get lousy on his attacks, the repetitiveness and the effort taking a toll on him. Granted, compared to other sorcerers, Merlin has just begun to sweat. Others would already be dead or passed out from the amount of magic wasted in the last couple of hours, but that didn't mean Merlin was expended from tiredness. His arms hurt and felt heavy, and with every thrown spell he could feel the rush of magic leaving him along with his strength. It had never bothered him before, he had thought he had almost an infinite resource of magic but now he was discovering his magic was not limitless.
"Stop," Arthur commanded several minutes later and Merlin lowered his tired arms a bit too eagerly. Arthur was silent for a moment before he nodded. "Before each attack you move your hands and arms , right? You move them all in different ways, even your feet. You bent or pull forward… why?"
"It depends on the amount of energy I will need and what type of element I'm using," Merlin said after some consideration, gasping softly for breath. "My body reacts instinctively to the way I feel my magic."
"As always Merlin you are as clumsy with your magic as with yourself," Arthur said a smirk that was bordering on being condescending. "I'm sure that you could perform better if you didn't—wave and shake your hands as much as you do. You… you perform magic and it looks like a mess of limbs."
Merlin raised his eyebrows amused, a bit offended. "Excuse me? Perfect. Now you know more than I do, really, Arthur, can you be more—"
"It's the same with young knights," Arthur interrupted. "They move too much, they ran farther than they should, they raise their swords higher than appropriate. Incompetent. They can still fight but they waste precious time and energy. It's the same with you. Look, try to make the same spell five times in repetition and see if you can take out a few movements out of your body sequence."
Merlin chuckled but stopped when Arthur was giving him a pinning stare. "Are you serious?"
"I am, try it," Arthur ordered, the prince within him shining through. "And focus, don't just act, see and analyze what you are doing. For once."
Merlin was too tired to complain, he faced the clear again and closed his eyes. He thought of a very easy, not too demanding spell and felt the rush of magic move inside and around him, bending him and moving his limbs in pure instinct. He did it seven times in a row, by the eight he had figured out that he drew his left arm way higher than needed and that in anxiousness he moved his right hand in a small circle before throwing the spell. He focused and tried again, this time, he kept his elbow closer to his body and his hand firm. The spell came quicker and the little rush of air he conjured didn't disperse as much as before, it actually rustled his clothes as it was over. He blinked several times as he lowered his arms.
"See?" Arthur for once didn't brag about being right. "Now try different spells with the same element. Maybe there's a code in your body that will let me see what the spell is about."
Merlin sighed and scrubbed his face. "It will take a while, this means I need to analyze each spell and take out what I don't need. You know how many spells I know? Dozens." He flat stated.
"Then it's good thing that we have the whole day, isn't it, Merlin?" Arthur smirked, patting Merlin's back with mock amiability.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Gwaine was making his way to the tavern of Camelot, the only place he felt he could forgive and forget. Drinking had been the reason why things had gotten out of control. The reason Elyan, Malcolm, Rowan and Bryan were presumed dead, but drinking also pushed his worries away, and like a moth drawn to a flame, he fell.
But as it turns out, he never made it to the tavern that day.
He spotted Gwen, Owen and Gaius walking up the path that led to the lower town and the guilt seeped into his veins as quickly as alcohol. Seeing Gwen was a daily reminder that Elyan was dead. Seeing Owen was a reminder that Brian and Rowan were dead. He held his head high and walked with purpose in hopes he would be ignored. Owen cared little about that and as Gwaine passed he grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Sorry to interrupt your saunter to the lower town." Owen joked with a gentle smile. "But we have knights practice before sunset. No time to go to the tavern today, Gwaine."
Gwaine just swapped his hair out of his face, refusing to look at Gwen at all. "Really? I thought it had been postponed. Sadly, that's never the case." He deadpanned. Gwen chuckled merrily and Gwaine felt a stab on his stomach. Will she ever forgive him once she finds her brother was never to return?
Gwen went to hold his arm to steer him along with them but Gwaine jumped out of her reach like she had burned him.
"Gwaine?" Gwen asked perplexed, her hands still in the air. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
"No—I mean yes, I'm fine. I'll be there for knight practice, mate." Gwaine vaguely raised a hand in the castle's direction as he took a few steps back. "I just need to, I just need to…be somewhere."
He turned on his heel and disappeared down the path. Gaius sighed softly to himself, knowing perfectly well the reasons behind the actions only made it more harder to see.
"What's has gotten into him?" Owen asked torn between being confused or enraged. "He's been like this for days!"
"C'mon, you two," Gaius said as he clapped adamantly. "Stop wasting this old man's time and lets finish our rounds."
Against all odds, Owen was surprised when Gwaine didn't show up to practice that day, neither was he present at the mess hall for dinner. Percival had just left to cover night duty, the only knight who might know what was wrong with his friend. It unnerved him because for the past few days he had noticed the pattern.
At first, he thought it was inconsequential, that maybe Gwaine had a rough week, but then he soon realized every time someone would mention Elyan, Malcolm or whoever that was on that party Gwaine would make himself scarce. He tested that theory today when Gwaine left the breakfast table after he asked for Rowan, and he confirmed it when he refused to even look at Gwen a few hours ago. Gwen and Gwaine were good friends and yet today he had evaded her touch like Gwen had the bubonic plague.
Owen was also aware that Leon and Lancelot were missing from the mess hall too, for the past two days they had been the shadow of the king and although it was not unusual there was a tense air around them. It made Owen was a knight of the realm, it was his duty to help his friends, city, and King, and if he could help, he would, and with purpose he left to seek Gwaine himself.
-.-.-.-.-
"What do you think is Morgana's stone? Kill, destroy, eradicate or all of them combined? Maybe her stone is just pure evil." Arthur mused as he nibbled on his half of bread. Merlin laughed so hard he even spilled his drink on his tunic. Arthur scoffed and looked to the side, enjoying the little break they had taken, his eyes fell on the vase and he lowered his hand to his lap. Merlin was eating merrily, unware of Arthur's thought, he was actually babbling about only God knows what and Arthur consciously turned his back to the vase and tried to focus on whatever Merlin was saying.
The break was short-lived, though, and soon they were back at training again. Merlin had improved during the last couple of hours, his spells came quicker and faster, although he still needs to work in the accuracy and direction of his spells, though Merlin believed it had more to do with his tiredness than anything else. Neither Arthur or Merlin had talked about dropping trainingg and Merlin was glad, he himself didn't want to stop just yet, as much progress as they had done they were not a step closer to their goal. They have their days counted and they couldn't afford to waste any minute of them.
"Merlin, do that again, the last spell," Arthur commanded and Merlin did. "Again." The prince narrowed his eyes. "Again—I got it."
Merlin's eyes stopped shining gold as he turned to Arthur. "Got what?"
Arthur looked at the desolated part of the field destroyed by Merlin's magic and then back at Merlin. "For fire you start the movements from the center of your chest." Arthur placed his hands in the middle of his chest and then expanded to the sides. "You variate the movements after that, but the first one is always in the center."
Merlin blinked before he put tested Arthur's theory. Arthur was right. Amazed Merlin chuckled against his will.
"I can't believe this, I had never noticed!" Merlin almost jumped in excitement before he controlled himself and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you are not as stupid in magic as I thought."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
If Arthur said 'one more time' Merlin would just collapse. He felt physically and mentally drained- The effort had paid off, certainly, but he didn't think he could stand another hour of this. Right now he was sitting against a rock, lazily watching as Arthur paced in front of him, doing movements with his arms and hands as he went.
"Fire from the center of the chest to the sides… Water, from the left side, a spin of the hands towards the ground and then back to the chest…" He repeated as he moved his hands accordingly. "Lighting; from above the head, to eye level, then a curve to the exterior—" Arthur stopped and looked at his feet for a moment. "Earth… from your right—no, left leg positioned in front of you, hands facing the ground, chest inclined to the center—Merlin, when you do an earth spell, do you need to focus on an exact point or an exact area?"
"Depends."
Arthur scoffed. When it comes to magic it all 'depends' "Care to be more specific?"
"Well, if I want to surround my enemy my arms go wider I guess? If I want to attack, I…" He looked down at his hands, trying to think of making a spell but not actually doing it. "I move my left hand—no right in front of my left, like signaling the place I want my magic to go."
Arthur nodded, mentally making corrections and kept pacing. "Air, from the exterior towards the chest, the number of fingers raised indicate the impact… and water from your right leg? (Merlin nodded in approval)" Arthur places his right leg in front of him and bends a few centimeters. "You use your whole body, hands behind you first and then…" He pushes his hands from behind his back to the front of him in a quick motion.
Merlin nodded, a slight smile on his face before he closed his eyes to rest for a moment, feeling the air begin to get colder around the meadow. The sunset was setting on the horizon and Merlin knew they should be leaving soon, otherwise, night will catch them in the middle of the forest and for the life of him, Merlin felt like he wouldn't be able to conjure the tiniest of fireballs even if his life depended on it.
"I think you got it." Merlin yawned, getting comfortable against the rock.
"C'mon Merlin, we still need to get back to Ealdor." Arthur kicked his foot with his but his voice was gentle.
"Just five minutes." Merlin almost begged; arms limp by his side, eyes firmly closed, whining like a child. "I can't feel my arms. I swear. Try to picture a seven-hour knight training. Done? Now multiply it by times infinite—and my brain, God it hurts to think."
"I thought that was normal." Arthur smirked, however, Merlin was already asleep. Arthur gave a long-suffering sigh before he began pacing again, repeating the movements as he went.
-.-.-.-.-.-
"What are you doing?"
Gwaine didn't stop his movements or looked startled as he expertly saddled his horse. Gwaine could have been deaf for the amount of interest he was showing.
Owen was at the entrance of the stables, looking at Gwaine like he had lost his mind. A knight that missed all his duties, a saddled horse, a satchel filled with food—stolen food from the kitchens, a sharpened sword. Even though Owen had asked he knew what he was seeing perfectly well. To make things worse Gwaine was not using his cape, indicating that wherever he was going in the middle of the night was not in the name of his king.
Owen quickly closed the two gigantic doors of the stables quickly and walked to Gwaine, snatching the bag of food from his.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I thought you were a smart fellow," Gwaine said easily as he took his sword out and sheathed it at the side of his horse. "You know what I'm doing, mate."
Owen glared, he was the same height as Gwaine and he pinned the man where he stood, Gwaine looked ready to push himself up his horse and bolt out of there, he smelled strongly of alcohol and Owen tried very hard not to punch him where he stood.
"You will be charged with treason if you leave" Owen whispered angrily. "You fought hard to be a knight, didn't you? Are you in problems? Do you owe someone money?"
"No—"
"Then why the hell are you leaving?"
"Move, Owen." Gwaine growled. He shoved Owen aside, snatching the bag from his hands.
"Arthur—"
"Arthur is not here!" Gwaine spat and a wicked smile appeared on his face. "He's not here to stop me."
"Stop you to go where?" Owen said shoving Gwaine away from his horse. "What the hell is going on? Leon and Lancelot are keeping a secret from us. You are. At the mention of Elyan the three of you suddenly act like you have more important matters to attend."
"How did you—"
"I'm not as blind as you guys think," Owen whispered acidly. "I notice things. So what happened to Elyan? I went to your room and found your patrol-books. (He ignored the way Gwaine began to mutter a river of curses under his breath) He was meant to come back five days ago, wasn't he? I placed things together: Arthur leaving to Annora, Leon and Lancelot glued to Uther's back. It doesn't take a genius to know something is going on. Is all this because of Agravaine? Did Arthur left to find another advisor?"
Gwaine scoffed and looked around, sharing a look with the nearest horse in sarcasm. "And I thought he was onto something."
"Gwaine!"
"There's no problem, everything s' fine!" Gwaine whispered annoyed as he tried to get past Owen. Owen just shoved him back again before he took out his sword to stop his advances. Gwaine raised his eyebrows amused and tilted his head, like saying 'mate, this is really a bad idea'. "Really, Owen? Move, you know you will be on your back in five minutes."
"Good luck with that."
Owen would have laughed any other time, but it was indeed kind of funny to see realization hit Gwaine. Gwaine looked at Owen's sword as he placed his hand around his waist… and found that his holster was empty. He looked at him and then back at his horse, where his sword was sheathed neatly at the side. Gwaine blew the hair of his face with a huff, incredibly annoyed with himself: Perfect. He couldn't do one thing right for god's sake!
"Tell me what is going on." Owen pressed, not lowering the sword but knowing perfectly well he wouldn't dream of actually using it.
Gwaine didn't have time for this, he needed to leave before anyone else noticed his absence, he thought he would take his opportunity when Percival got night shift, with Percival out of the equation it was going to be easy to sneak out of Camelot but now Owen had to get himself involved. Really, it was so frustrating he wanted to yell.
"Arthur is the problem—and right now you, to be honest," Gwaine said moving a hand in his direction. "You are bloody right, Elyan's party has gone missing for five days now, no news, no nothing. They just vanished! And Arthur just—it was my fault, no, don't ask just shut up and move to the side. It was my fault and that's all you need to know—Arthur thinks that we should just report them dead." Gwaine finished his whispered-yelled speech, regretting his use of words at once. Bryan was Owen's best friend. Just like Percival and Lancelot were his. Furthermore, wasn't Rowan in a relationship with Owen's sister? Gwaine added a few other names to the ever growing list of people he had failed.
"And… and you think—what do you think?" Owen finally asked, lowering his sword to his side. He felt like someone had kicked him in the chest and for a moment he felt breathless. Bryan was his best friend, they have been together ever since they could remember… and now he was… he was dead?
"I think Arthur can shove those thoughts somewhere else," Gwaine said harshly as he backtracked and opened the doors with a powerful swing. This time, when he walked to his horse, Owen just stepped aside, still trying to recover from the information he was given. Gwaine made sure he had everything he needed and mounted, looking down at Owen for a moment he felt a pang of guilt and sympathy. "If Bryan and Rowan are alive I will find them mate."
Owen didn't have time to say anything else before Gwaine led his horse out the stables. The knight left behind blinked several times before looking at the sword in his hands. Bryan had once risked everything to save Owen's life, back when they had been kids that dreamed in becoming knights. James, Bryan and him.
As he stood there he wondered what would Rowan do. The answer was simple enough.
The knight sheathed his sword and mounted on the nearest horse as he quickly unbuttoned his knight cape, letting it fall to the ground. The paws of his horse stepped over it as he expertly made the horse gallop out the stable. He just hopes he wasn't too late to catch up with Gwaine.
-.-.-.-
Hunith was sitting on her wooden table waiting for her boys to arrive; it was late at night, the only light in the house was the roaming fire by the chimney. Dinner was cold on the counter and even though she was not worried she began to feel anxious. That was the burden of a mother; you always worry even when you have no reason to. Hunith had more reasons to fear than most, certainly, but she knew if Merlin and Arthur were together they should be fine. So in eerily calmness, only achieved over years of being a mother, she waited for them to come home.
A few minutes later she was rewarded. There was a pounding on the door, it sounded lower than it would be normal but she quickly rose to her feet, a relieved smile on her face. When she opened the door the smile died a little before it returned full force. There, standing at the door of her house, was Prince Arthur, eyes shining blue, tired overall appearance and black hair turned every which way. On his back, carried like a sleeping child, was Merlin. She would have worried had not been for the embarrassed look on Arthur's face.
Arthur didn't know what to say when Hunith opened the door. He felt like a kid that had gotten into trouble at seeing the anxious way she had thrown the door open. He had never apologized like this to a woman before. A woman who had not gone to sleep waiting for them. He readjusted Merlin's weight and managed to give a little nod.
"I'm sorry we came this late but Merlin…" He sidetracked as Hunith hurried him inside and waved a hand.
"C'mon in, Arthur, it's alright. I'm just glad both of you are home. Now, why don't you leave Merlin on the bed and then you and I can have some well-deserved dinner?" Hunith asked amiably as he guided Arthur to the cot. The prince dropped Merlin as carefully as he could—in all honesty, Arthur would have thrown him unceremoniously, but Hunith was watching him and for once he did as he was told. Then he straightened and scrunched his face in silent pain as his bones and muscles resented him for the long trip home.
"Have you not eaten yet?" Arthur asked amused after a moment, watching as Hunith prepared two plates of food. He awkwardly stood by the side of the table before he chose to sit. His body relaxing at once. He waited patiently for Hunith to be done with the food as he massaged his sore back, his eyes narrowed at the place near the fire that he would be sleeping it tonight, wonderful. Hunith returned with two plates, grapes, and some bread. It didn't even look half as good as his meals in Camelot but he realized this would have to do.
"A mother always waits for her son to come home to do so." Hunith smiled gently. The kind of smiles only mothers could give. The kind of smiles Arthur has seen very little in his life. Arthur didn't know what to say, so instead he turned his whole attention to his food, eating in silence as Hunith talked about her day.
The food was cold and the bread a bit hard, but he swears, to this day, it was the best dinner of his life.
A/N: I have nothing to say besides thanking you guys for your AMAZING reviews! Your reviews are life! Hope I didn't bore you with my invented rules of magic—heavily based on Harry Potter or Narnia if you know where to look—but well, even in Merlin's world there have to be some rules, isn't it?
Well, what do you think of the first day of training? You will love the rest, and an adventure is coming! Andddd Gwaine! For all of you waiting for him to do something rash, there you have it! If you have any ideas/moments you will like Arthur and Hunith to have, like sweet motherly ones, tell me in a review!
-Juliet'lovestory-