It's a beautiful morning in Camelot. The sun is shining high in the sky, bathing the forest in brilliant gold as its light breaks through the canopy. There's a chill in the air and a light breeze that promises the coming of winter. Everything seems right with the world. Well, other than the fact that magic is still outlawed. And Merlin's still lying to his prat of a King/best friend/ royal pain in the arse. And, oh yeah, Morgana's still a problem that never fails to give Merlin a raging headache. And then there's Arthur, who can't seem to stop almost dying, damnit! So, yeah, maybe Merlin's earlier assessment of the state of the universe was a bit too optimistic.
But, either way, so far the day has wielded no life-threatening disasters, so that counts as a win in Merlin's book. Small victories, right? Although, Arthur dragging Merlin out of bed at some ungodly hour of the morning for an impromptu hunting trip has soured Merlin's mood considerably. Forgive him if he doesn't find traipsing through the woods all day, killing innocent little bunnies left and right a fun activity and a great way to spend his Saturday. Why Arthur insists upon Merlin tagging along is a mystery to the young Warlock. Although, he suspects that Arthur does it just to torture him. The prat.
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice pierces through the Warlock's musings and, with an internal sigh of frustration, he lazily turns his head to face the King.
"Yes, Sire?" Merlin says dully, earning a quiet snicker from one of the knights (Gwaine if he would hazard a guess.)
Arthur sighs heavily. "Are you even listening to me?"
Merlin pauses, a look of obviously fake contemplation on his face, before replying. "No." With that said, Merlin faces forward and continues walking, ignoring Arthur's dumbfounded expression and the obnoxious guffaws of the knights, who have officially abandoned the effort to be discreet about their amusement.
"You- You can't say that to me, Merlin!" Arthur declares in an affronted tone as he regains his senses and, unfortunately for Merlin, his ability to speak.
Merlin only just resists the urge to flip the young King off. As satisfying as that would be, Merlin isn't willing to risk it. After all, if he's going to be tried for high treason, it better be because of a flashy magic reveal with an excessive amount of fire and explosions. One can never be too dramatic, after all. As such, Merlin decides on a much more subtle approach. Over the years, he has become something of an expert at aggravating Arthur without actually saying anything unbefitting of his station.
"I'm not sure that I understand what you mean, My Lord. Could you please simplify your statement into terms a lowly, uneducated servant such as myself could understand?" Yeah, Merlin isn't bitter. Not at all. Well… Maybe a little bit. But, honestly, can you really fault him for that?
"Merlin!" Arthur growls, his lips curling into a menacing scowl that does nothing to sway Merlin's resolve.
"Sire?" Merlin's innocent, wide-eyed stare and the confused tilt of his head finally break Arthur's composure. Honestly, though, I'm surprised he managed to last this long. Whether that's progress or a once-in-a-lifetime blessing from the gods, the world may never know.
"You are aware that I can and will put you in the stocks for the foreseeable future, right?"
"Oh, would you? I really have been neglecting my devoted fans lately. I wouldn't want them to think that I've forgotten them now, would I?" Merling ceases walking once more, turning to look at Arthur with a cocky grin. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gwaine fall to the forest floor, laughing uncontrollably while clutching his sides. Percival and Elyan are hunched together, supporting each other as they both lose themselves in their amusement. The rest of the Knights are a bit more sedate with their humour. However, their mirth at the pair's antics is still plainly written across their expressions.
Arthur gapes at Merlin for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing comically, before his expression shifts to one of resignation. The King shakes his head wearily, meeting Merlin's gaze with an amused glint in his eye.
"I don't scare you at all, do I, Merlin?"
"Of course not, Arthur. The day you begin to scare me is the day the world goes up in flames." Merlin exclaims cheerfully as he breaks out into a wide, joy-filled grin. Arthur snorts and rolls his eyes, once again resuming his trek through the forest, patting Merlin fondly on the shoulder as he passes by. Merlin's grin doesn't falter as he gives the knights a playful wink and turns on his heels to follow his King.
As their journey continues, Merlin starts to get a bad feeling. It begins as a tingling at the base of his skull and gets progressively worse as they go along, eventually morphing into a buzzing sensation that spreads throughout his body and a pit of anxiety that settles in his gut. His magic is telling him that something's wrong, and he is immediately on alert.
Merlin inconspicuously scans the surrounding trees with his eyes, reaching out with his magic to try and determine what and where the danger is. Any hope that he had of this being a false alarm is dashed as he senses a group of people coming their way. His magic can sense their malicious intent.
'One day off. Just one! Is that too much to ask?' Merlin grouses internally, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth as he tries to figure out how to handle the situation and warn Arthur without being overly suspicious. As the group continues to draw closer, he feels the sharp sting of another magic user's presence. Instantly, the situation becomes more treacherous. The presence of another magic user within this group means that the possibility of this ambush being Morgana's doing has just skyrocketed.
Merlin stops walking, a plan forming in his mind. "Arthur, did you hear that?" He says, swiveling his head this way and that so it looks like he's trying to determine where this "sound" has come from. The entire hunting party goes silent and mimics his actions.
"I don't hear anything. Merlin, are you sure you're not touched in the head?" Arthur teases after a moment.
"No, I definitely heard something." Merlin assures, more insistent this time. His urgency makes Arthur pause and he scans the area for sound once more, his eyes losing their humorous glint as his hand moves unconsciously to the hilt of his sword.
Merlin's timing is perfect. Mere seconds after he says this, whispering voices and lumbering footsteps become audible, putting everyone on alert. No one draws their sword, just in case the approaching group holds no ill intent towards them. But, it is clear that everyone is on edge as their subconscious minds pick up on the coming danger.
Soon enough, the group breaks through the trees, causing everyone, excluding Merlin, to draw their sword. Merlin is pushed behind Arthur protectively as the Warlock's armed companions take on defensive stances, readying themselves for battle.
The men before them are undoubtedly mercenaries. And by the looks on their faces, it is obvious to Merlin that his instincts were spot on. These men were looking for him and his friends. And now that they've found their target, they have only two goals in mind: Capture Arthur, and kill the rest.
A man steps forward, separating himself from the others. He's brutish and large, easily as tall and built as Percival, with a scar running vertically down the left side of his face, starting at his eyebrow and ending just above his lip. Judging by his posture and the way the rest of the mercenaries look at him, he is obviously their leader. He emits an air of superiority and arrogance. Merlin immediately dislikes him.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The man says, a dark smirk etched on his face. "Arthur Pendragon. Just who we were looking for, isn't that right, Edric?" At the call of his name, a young man steps forward from the back of the group, the sea of mercenaries parting for him as he strides confidently over to the leader.
"Quite right, Kazamir. The Lady Morgana will be pleased." Edric confirms as he comes to a stop next to the other man, who has now been identified as Kazamir. Edric is dressed differently than the other men. Instead of the heavy mercenary armour, he is garbed in expensive-looking black robes with gold trim at the end of the sleeves and around the collar. Merlin deduces that this man is the magic user he sensed earlier.
"So, you're working for Morgana, then? I should have guessed." Arthur says boldly, taking a small step forward as he sizes up his opponents. "What do you want with us?"
Kazamir laughs, his smirk deepening. "Actually, sire, the question you should be asking is 'what do we want with you?' Everyone else is expendable. Well, other than your little sidekick. Merlin, I believe his name was."
Arthur tenses and his eyes widen when he hears Merlin's name. He unconsciously tightens his grip on his sword and shifts his stance so he's completely blocking Merlin from view.
"Sorry to disappoint, but Merlin and I aren't going anywhere with you."
"Oh, really?" Edric replies as his comrades draw their swords. His eyes fill with dark intent and he grins maliciously. "We'll just have to see about that." Kazamir gives Edric an imperceptible nod, giving the sorcerer permission to attack. "Astryce!" Edric swiftly turns toward the knights, who are standing to the left of Arthur and Merlin. His spell sends them hurtling through the air. They land harshly on the ground, leaving them slumped and unconscious.
Arthur looks to his fallen friends, then back at Merlin. "Go hide." Arthur growls before facing forward and charging. Arthur and Kazamir's swords meet with an echoing clang, and the two men begin exchanging blows. Merlin takes Arthur's advice and backs up to the treeline, watching the battle play out, readying himself to step in if necessary.
"Gehaeftan him." Edric casts another spell once the fight begins, binding Merlin and the knight's hands behind their backs. Merlin struggles against the restraining ropes for a few moments before deeming his efforts futile and shooting a heated glare at Edric. It would be easy enough to remove the bindings from his wrists with magic, but he isn't willing to take such a risk.
Merlin hears a sharp cry of pain and turns his head to see Arthur on the ground, clutching his shoulder with a grimace. He's been disarmed, his sword lying on the forest floor about seven feet away, and Kazamir is standing above him triumphantly as he places his blade to Arthur's neck.
"Kazamir." Edric warns, causing the Kazamir's eyes to lose some of their bloodlust.
He breathes a heavy sigh before ordering, "Kill the rest." His men oblige quickly, moving calmly toward the knights, who are still unconscious, while Kazamir grabs Arthur, pulling him to his feet and turning him around roughly so he can tie up the royal's hands.
Merlin looks on in horror as the scene unfolds before him. He can't let this happen. He won't. If he does nothing, his friends are going to die. He is not going to allow his fear of persecution to stop him from saving the people he cares for. As the mercenaries draw closer to the knights, Merlin makes his decision.
"Awendaþ eft wansæliga neat!" As his enemies are sent flying by the force of his spell, Merlin steps out from the trees, his eyes burning a brilliant gold as his power swirls violently around him, blanketing the area with a sense of foreboding.
Kazamir and Edric's eyes widen in shock, and Arthur is staring, dumbfounded, at his manservant and friend. The royal is confused and emotionally conflicted. Almost every experience he's had with magic has supported his upbringing: Magic is evil, as are those who practice it. But, this is Merlin. Goofy, kind, loyal to a fault, Merlin. Arthur is finding it impossible to associate his best friend with magic's supposed evil. In fact, Arthur finds himself suddenly questioning his beliefs. After all, if Merlin meant him harm, he's had ample opportunity to inflict it. And, if that were the case, Arthur would surely be dead a hundred times over by now. He feels betrayed, yes, but there is a distinct lack of fury and hatred present in the maelstrom of emotions that are threatening to overwhelm him.
Merlin, conversely, refuses to look at Arthur, instead setting his gaze upon Edric, who is still frozen in shock. "You will not harm The Once and Future King. Nor will I allow you to kill my friends. I have protected them from the shadows for far too long, but no more." Merlin's voice is confident and threatening, gaining a tone that exudes regality and power, all things that Arthur has never associated with his lanky, big-eared manservant. Yet, now that he's witnessed Merlin's display, he has to admit that it fits. The way Merlin holds himself, his back straightened to bring him to his full height, and the effortless tenacity and confidence that radiates through every word he speaks, now just seems right. Arthur's mind wanders to every time Merlin has rushed into battle alongside him, every time he's shown his unwavering strength and resolve, and, most importantly, every time that the sheer force of Merlin's belief in Arthur has managed to restore Arthur's belief in himself. Looking back, Arthur decides that Merlin holds more courage within his soul than anyone he has ever met. And, the dark-haired man's resolved declaration that he will protect his friends further proves to Arthur that Merlin's unwavering loyalty to him and to Camelot has never been a lie.
Now, Arthur makes a vow, to himself and to his best friend: Merlin will not face persecution. With only a few words, Merlin has shattered Arthur's philosophy. Magic is not evil. It never has been, and Arthur realizes now that he has a lot to make up for. When this is over, he will begin to atone for his sins and the sins of his father. Magic will be returned to Camelot. He swears it.
Edric scoffs. "And who are you to make demands, servant? You may know a little about magic, I'll give you that, but you're using words that you could never hope to understand. If you had any true knowledge of the prophecies, then you would never insult them by giving that man the title of The Once and Future King. If you know what's good for you, boy, you'll stand back and let the Lady Morgana kill him and ascend to Camelot's throne as Her rightful Queen." As Edric is speaking, Kazamir jerks Arthur backward a few paces, likely preparing to take cover if the two magic users fail to see eye to eye. Merlin merely levels Edric with a calm, almost lifeless stare.
"I will not."
Edric growls. "Then you are a traitor to your kind." Edric prepares to attack, only to be stopped by Merlin's dark, mirthless laughter.
"I am many things, Edric, but a traitor is not one of them." The air around them seems to thin as Merlin releases his magic, and Edric and Kazamir find themselves stumbling, gasping for breath under the suffocating weight of Emrys' power.
"W- Who are you?" Edric whispers, unconsciously taking a staggering step away from the Warlock. Merlin gives him a wry smile.
"I am Merlin, son of Hunith and Balinor, manservant to King Arthur Pendragon, and apprentice to Gaius, the Court Physician. I am the last Dragonlord, a title that was passed down to me upon my father's death. I have the power to command The Great Dragon, Kilgharrah, and it is I who freed him from Uther's captivity. I recovered the last dragon egg from the Tomb of Ashkanar, and from it, I called forth Aithusa, the young dragon that your false Queen now calls friend. I traveled to the Isle of the Blessed and vanquished Nimueh, a High Priestess of the Old Religion. I have triumphed over Cornelius Sigan and imprisoned his soul for eternity. I am the one who slayed the High Priestess Morgause, and I alone am responsible for the monster that Morgana Pendragon has become." Merlin takes a breath, and when he continues speaking, his tone has lost some of its sharp predatory danger, though his words are still authoritative and harsh.
"The Druids call me ally and friend, and they say that I am the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. I am the prophesied immortal, the fated protector of Albion and The Once and Future King, and the light to Morgana's darkness. I am to be her destiny and her doom." Merlin stops abruptly, allowing his words to crash against the thick canopy above before closing his eyes.
"I am Emrys."
Merlin's eyes snap open, revealing glowing irises that burn a brilliant, unrelenting gold. The already smothering pressure in the air intensifies, bringing Edric and Kazamir stumbling to their knees. Arthur, who seems to be unaffected by Merlin's display of power, takes the opportunity to kick away from Kazamir and run over to where his sword is lying discarded on the grass. With minimal effort, Arthur frees his wrists from their bindings, and after hastily flexing his fingers to regain his feeling and mobility, the young King strides back to where Kazamir is kneeling. He uses the tip of his blade to dislodge the sword from Kazamir's loosened grip, and then simultaneously kicks the weapon out of the mercenary's reach and places the tip of his blade on the shaking man's neck. Arthur feels his injured shoulder protest the movement as a twinge of pain shoots down his left arm. He chooses to ignore the discomfort for now in favour of keeping Kazamir at swordpoint. Besides, based on the show Merlin's been putting on, Arthur's willing to bet that his servant is more than capable of healing his wound, or at least stopping the blood flow until they can make it back to Camelot.
Arthur hears Merlin start to speak again and he turns a fraction of his attention back to his friend, who is now looming intimidatingly over Edric.
"I want you to take your friend over there and go back to Morgana. Tell her what has happened, and make sure she knows this: Camelot is protected. Do you understand?" Merlin's golden eyes stare piercingly into Edric's, leaving no room for refusal or disobedience.
"Yes, Emrys." Edric stutters, shying away from the intensity of Merlin's gaze.
"Good."
The oppressive atmosphere quickly fades once Edric agrees to Merlin's demands, and both of Morgana's followers take in a deep, shuddering breath as the pressure disappears entirely. Edric scrambles clumsily to his feet, almost tripping as he turns and scurries away, hastily vanishing into the trees.
Arthur watches as Kazamir tracks his comrade's retreating figure, and soon the mercenary's pleading eyes are fixed on Arthur. The royal can practically feel Merlin's expectant gaze burning into the side of his head, so after a brief moment of consideration, he lowers his sword from Kazamir's neck. It takes less than half a second for Kazamir to realize that he's being let go, and in the blink of an eye, he's gone, leaving Arthur, Merlin, and the Knights, who had regained consciousness at some point during Merlin's speech, alone. Well, save for the rest of Kazamir and Edric's companions, who are still very much unconscious.
"Merlin," Arthur calls, gaining his friend's attention. Merlin slowly turns to face Arthur, and the King of Camelot can clearly see the fear and resignation in Merlin's cerulean gaze. Arthur hates this, he hates that Merlin feels the need to look at him in such a way. Does he wish that Merlin had trusted him enough to tell him about his magic? Yes, he does, more than anything. However, looking back, he realizes that he never gave Merlin any inclination that he could, in fact, be trusted with such a secret. All his life his father preached to him about the evils of magic, and it didn't take long for Arthur's own experiences with magic to turn him into the same beast as Uther: A person of power and influence telling the masses that magic is evil and corruptive to those who wield it. In reality, Arthur is completely ignorant of what magic truly is. Arthur decides that it is time to change that. He wants to learn. He wants to see how magic can be used to benefit others, instead of watching it hurt and corrupt and tear his family apart. And, most of all, Arthur wants to make sure that there is never a need for Merlin to look at him in such a way again.
"S- Sire?" Merlin stutters, and for once the formal address is genuine instead of being used to tease and poke fun. Arthur hates that too. It's just so not Merlin.
"I'm so sorry." Arthur says, his tone soft yet certain. Merlin's eyes widen and his mouth drops open out of confusion and shock. Out of every scenario Merlin has played through in his mind, this is something that he never even considered. Merlin always thought of yelling and heartache and, in some of his darker imaginings, the excruciating pain inflicted by the flames of false justice as he burns at the stake.
"What?" Merlin whispers, disbelief evident in his voice and expression as he scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion.
"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm sorry for not showing you that you could trust me. I'm sorry for continuing my father's hatred of magic and the persecution of those who use it. And, most of all, I'm sorry for casting judgment upon something I don't actually understand, something that I never even took the time to learn about. I made blind assumptions and trusted my father when I should have worked to form my own opinion. I don't believe that magic is evil, Merlin, not anymore. You're proof of that. You're my best friend, Merlin, and I know that you would never attempt to do me harm. I trust you with my life, nothing can change that, especially not this."
Merlin is dumbfounded and it takes a few seconds for him to compose himself enough to reply to Arthur's apology. "You- You're not angry? Arthur, I lied to you for years." Merlin says hastily, unsure as to why he's trying to convince Arthur that he shouldn't be as calm as he is. Arthur Pendragon, the King of Camelot, a place where magic is outlawed, just found out that his best friend has magic and has been using it under his nose for years. Merlin can't even begin to comprehend why Arthur isn't furious with him.
"I know, and honestly, I blame myself for that. You had good reason not to tell me, Merlin. So, no, I'm not angry with you. Am I upset? Yes, I am, but not for the reasons you think. Am I a little disappointed? Absolutely, but mostly at my own stubbornness and stupidity. You did what you had to do to survive, Merlin. And despite everything my father put your people through, everything I've put them through, you still protected me and called me friend."
With each word Arthur speaks, Merlin comes to understand that Arthur has grown and changed in even greater ways than he knew. Arthur isn't his father. He never will be. And, as Arthur's declaration washes over Merlin's being, he realizes that the time of Albion is much closer than he ever could have imagined. The thought nearly brings Merlin to his knees as his magic sings for the future that he believed would never come to pass.
"Arthur, I-" Arthur holds up his hand, silencing Merlin before he can continue.
"Let me finish." Arthur pauses for a moment to collect himself. He looks at the ground, then at Merlin, and then at his trusted knights. He assesses each of their faces, noticing that, without words, they have seemed to come to a similar conclusion. He meets Sir Gwaine's gaze and the knight nods, showing his unwavering support for what the young King is about to say. Arthur turns his gaze back to Merlin, who is biting his lip and wringing his hands nervously. "Magic will no longer be outlawed in Camelot." Arthur states resolutely, making sure to meet Merlin's eyes as he speaks. Merlin immediately brightens, his anxiety morphing into happiness. The sight makes the tension that has been building in Arthur's chest dissipate. The relief shown in Merlin's gaze is strong enough that Arthur can practically feel it radiating off of the young man.
"Arthur…" Merlin begins, trailing off as he attempts to find the right words to convey his gratitude. Once he figures out what to say, Merlin walks confidently over to Arthur and gracefully kneels before him. "Arthur Pendragon, I pledge my magic and my life to you. I will be by your side as you work to fulfill your destiny as The Once and Future King, just as I always have. You are a great man, a great king, and a great friend. I promise, Arthur, that I will always be here to protect you." As he speaks those last words, Merlin raises his head, meeting Arthur's eyes with his own. Merlin's gaze is steadfast and determined, and it fills Arthur with a sense of pride at how strong Merlin has become.
"I accept your pledge." Arthur states, reaching out a hand to pull Merlin to his feet. Merlin grabs Arthur's forearm and pulls himself up so they are standing face to face. They maintain the handshake, a sign of camaraderie and friendship. Merlin searches Arthur's eyes, and as he discerns the meaning of the unspoken words that lie within the King's crystal blue gaze, he feels something click into place. It's at this moment he knows that Arthur is making the same pledge to him.
Merlin and Arthur nod at each other and let go, their arms dropping back to their sides. There is a moment of silence as each person occupying the clearing reflects on the gravity of what has been said and the promises that have been made.
Suddenly, Gwaine begins cheering obnoxiously, breaking the profound atmosphere that has descended upon them. One by one, the rest of the knights join in, making Arthur and Merlin grin at their friend's boisterous behavior. After a few seconds, Gwaine shushes the rest of the knights, becoming serious once more.
"To Emrys and the Once and Future King!" He exclaims, his powerful voice ringing through the clearing.
The rest of the knights replicate Gwaine's assertion and a chorus of voices shouting "To Emrys and the Once and Future King" joyfully fills the air. Arthur laughs brightly and Merlin grins, tears of joy forming in his eyes as his friends continue to shout and celebrate the dawn of a new era.
Arthur slings his arm around Merlin's shoulders affectionately before ruffling the Warlock's hair and quieting the knights. "Let's go home." Arthur declares, patting Merlin on the back. As he begins to walk away, Arthur looks back at Merlin, a smirk playing on his lips, speaking once more.
"We've got a lot of work to do."
A/N: Here are the translations for the spell used in the story. I got them through this site: /MerlinOldEnglishTranslator
If any of these translations are wrong, leave a comment to let me know and I'll go ahead and fix it.
Astryce: "Strike"
Gehaeftan him: "Restrain them"
Awendaþ eft wansæliga neat: "Avert back the terrible beasts"
Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story! As always, I am open to suggestions and constructive criticism. Comments are always appreciated!
Much Love,
RavenGrey2107