So sorry for being gone for so long!
Arthur found himself in the crowded streets of Camelot, the people milling around him in sweeps of skirts and rustles of tunic shirts. It was a normal day and he frowned in concentration, while he was aware – now – how unobservant he could be, he couldn't figure out what was so important about a regular day in the streets of Camelot.
People where buying produce and trinkets from street venders, dressed in their everyday clothes, dresses and tunics and hooded cloaks – wait, he turned his attention from the rest, zeroing in on the two cloaked figures, one smaller, clothed in a distinctive turquoise, Arthur watched, feeling his stomach sink.
Because this was the boy he'd rescued, this was the one he'd betrayed in the worst way, killing his love – despite it being necessary - knowing how it would feel if someone had killed his Guinevere, the gut deep revulsion such a thought brought.
He watched as they approached the stall and he watched as the man called the guards, he saw the terror flash across the older druids face and then they were running a guard slashing at the child's arm, causing him to scream.
But then Arthur stopped, because that scream – it hadn't been verbal. That – that had sounded like it was in his head, resounding in his ears. But he didn't have time to consider it because he was quickly losing sight of the two figures.
They'd reached the castle grounds now and Arthur hurried to catch up, not wanting to be left behind, the man – Mordred's father – cast a spell and dashed onto the drawbridge, hunching himself over as if to shield the child from everything and anything.
Arthur thinks this is a real father, and he is reminded of his own, a flawed man, but one that loved Arthur in the end. The older druid muttered a final spell and forced the child farther onto the bridge and as the gates closed he allowed himself to be caught.
The scene shifted and Arthur found himself standing behind Merlin who was calmly strolling through the courtyard, whistling under his breath, his hair sticking up in unruly tuffs and his clothes beyond wrinkled as if he'd slept in them, the idiot looked like he'd just rolled out of bed.
Still – he looked happy in a way Arthur hadn't seen in awhile. He wonders if that is partly is own fault.
"Help!"
Merlin startled, stopping, and swung his head around wildly, but he found no one, and Arthur could see the exact moment he wrote it off as a fluke, only for the Mordred to speak again. "Help me, please!" Merlin spun this time and spotted the small huddled form in the corner of the square.
"Please. You have to help me."
The guards burst into the square and Arthur could see Mordred jump even from a distance.
"Search in there. Take the other side. You, did you see a boy run in here?"
Merlin frowned and then – although his lips did not move – he spoke.
Well – well, fuck. Arthur can think of nothing more eloquent.
"Who are you?"
"They're searching for me!"
"Why are they after you?"
"Please, they'll kill me!"
The guards bust open a door and Merlin jumps before a look that Arthur knew well passed across his pale visage. He nodded once to Mordred, motioning with his arms for the child to come towards him, Mordred does, hurrying across the courtyard his arm clutched close to his chest.
And then they're off Arthur close behind. He follows the two up the stairs and through the castle, the clatter of the guard's feet behind them, a chorus to the frantic dash the two dark haired figures in front of him were making.
Merlin and the child rounded the corner and dashed into Morgana's old rooms. Or – he supposed – in these memories – her current rooms. The woman herself turned, a necklace clutched at her chest, the ends dangling in the air, slowly swaying.
"Merlin, have you forgotten how to knock?"
Merlin himself gaped, seemingly lost for words before he gestured to the child who stood in front of him with his too wide eyes and pale face. Morgana's eyes softened when they landed on the boy, her whole face changing.
Morgana had always been like that, able to change at the drop of a hat, when she was your friend she was a fierce ally, but when she was your enemy – he wished he never knew what it was like to be her enemy. She was a terror, a threat, someone to be feared.
"The guards are after him. I didn't know where to go – what to do."
There was a fierce thundering of feet outside the chamber door.
"My Lady, My Lady?"
"In there," she says gesturing to a curtain, Merlin nods and ushers the boy backwards and behind the dark cloth, his sister waited until they were both hidden before striding across the room and opening the door, her face a mask of calm questioning.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, My Lady. We're searching for a young Druid boy. We believe he came this way."
Morgana cocked her head to the side.
"I haven't seen anyone. It's just me and my maid," she said gesturing to his frozen queen, who looked nowhere near as calm as Morgana herself did.
Guinevere was like Merlin – or at least, how he'd perceived Merlin to be – she'd never been meant for anything other than complete honesty – it had been something she'd struggled with in the beginning of her rein at his side, she couldn't understand that sometimes lying was necessary. She could not fall into a role and play it like Morgana could – or perhaps even like Merlin, because, out of the ten years he'd known the man – how much had been real, and how much had been acting a part?
The man at the door nodded.
"Best keep the door locked till we find him."
"Of course, thank you."
The door shut and she turned in a whirl of pretty fabric and was at Merlin's side. Merlin who was cradling the child in his arms, his hand dark with Mordred's blood.
The scene changed, and Arthur found himself still inside Morgana's chambers, although there were marked differences. For one the air seemed to vibrate with tension, Merlin and Morgana stood next to the large window, looking out at the courtyard. The two were stone-faced and silent, the child – Mordred lay on a small cot, light eyes staring up into nothing.
Arthur advanced upon the two figures by the window and looked out, his heart sinking, the execution of Mordred's father, of course. He winced as he took in Merlin's pale face and the tightening in the corners of Morgana's eyes.
"People of Camelot, the man before you has been found guilty of using enchantments and magic, under our law, the sentence for this crime is death. We're still searching for his accomplice. Anyone found harboring the boy is guilty of conspiracy, and will be executed as a traitor. Let this serve as a warning to your people."
Arthur winced again, his father sounded so – callous, like the man before him was nothing but a bug to be crushed because of how unsightly it was, like his life had meant nothing. Perhaps, that was how his father had viewed those with magic – like bugs.
Morgana turned her mouth a tight line, "I can't watch this." She sunk to the floor next to the small cot, cradling Mordred in her arms, running her hands through the dark waves of his hair. She was so – maternal, this was the softest he can remember seeing her in years, even before her – betrayal.
Had she been already changing before her magic began to show itself? What if it was not the magic that did this – because Morgana herself had even told him that, but he hadn't believed her - what if it had been them? What if it was Camelot that had twisted her?
Or worse, what if it had been him and his father – their father?
Suddenly the silence was shattered by an ear piercing yell, "No!" Mordred screams, tears streaming down his cheeks, Morgana's ornate mirror cracking in almost slow motion and shattering into thousands of tiny, glittering shards.
The scene changed once more and Arthur found himself within the physician's chambers, the herbal sent that permeated the air inside invading his nose. There was a clatter and Arthur turned to see Merlin and Gaius sitting down at the table, open books spread out around them.
"Do you know much about the Druids?"
"Very little. They're a very secretive people. Especially now they're being hunted by Uther. Merlin, please tell me you haven't got yourself mixed up in this."
Merlin looks down and for someone who had lived with a secret as large as – well, as large as magic, for the whole of his life he appears to be terrible at keeping something a secret, it was slightly baffling to say the least.
"Me? No. Mixed up in what?"
Gaius sighed.
"For someone with such a big secret, you are a terrible liar."
"Well, I haven't done anything."
"Merlin…."
"I heard the boy calling out. He was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear him – like he was inside my head."
"Yes, I've heard of this ability. Telepathy. The Druids look for children with such gifts to serve as apprentices. While they're searching for this boy, you must be especially careful otherwise it'll be your head on the chopping block."
"I'm always careful. You know me."
Gaius stared for a moment, before shaking his head, a move that spoke of fond exasperation.
"Yes, unfortunately I do."
The scene changed and Arthur found himself once again within Morgana's chambers. The woman herself was pacing back and forth, her mouth turned down in a frown while her eyes where shadowed by deep dark circles that spoke of a sleepless night. Merlin slipped in and he appeared to go unnoticed until he cleared his throat and Morgana whirled around.
"How is he," he questioned, if anything Morgana's frown became more pronounced before she answered. "He's sleeping. He's very pale. I worry he may have lost a lot of blood." Merlin nodded slowly before he posed another question.
"Has he said anything at all?"
"Nothing. He won't even tell me his name."
Merlin sighed and nodded and there was silence for a moment before Merlin smiled hesitantly. "You know – er – for a moment there earlier, I – I thought you were going to hand us over to the guards."
Morgana glared, "I'm glad you have so much faith in me, Merlin."
Merlin shook his head frantically. "No, no, sorry. Erm – I meant, you're the King's ward. You're taking a huge risk helping the boy."
Morgana frowned, her eyes drifting towards where the child lay behind the curtain, she sighed. "I would not see an innocent child executed. What harm has he ever done anyone?"
Merlin nodded something in his eyes.
"Uther believes he has magic, and that makes him guilty."
He – he was needling her, he wanted to know her views, Arthur realized. He was considering. No, he obviously didn't, he knew that Morgana – the Morgana of the present – would have used it against him, to try and turn him against Merlin, and it was with a little bit of shame that he realized that it would have worked.
"Uther's wrong."
"You believe that?"
"What if magic isn't something you choose? What if it chooses you? – why are you looking at me like that?"
Merlin – who had previously been gaping at the woman, his eyes wide and a hesitant light having token root in the blue pools – looked down before he sighed. "I – nothing, I didn't mean anything by it." She stared at him for a moment before she nodded and returned to her pacing.
She paused.
"Why are you helping him?"
Merlin hesitates, and Arthur can only speculate the real reason, but he thinks it's because Merlin see's a little of himself in this poor unfortunate child. Morgana's watching Merlin intently now and Merlin seems to wilt under the scrutiny.
"It was a spur of the moment decision," he finally says, a small sigh escaping his lips. "What do you think we should do with him? He surely can't stay here, not when their hunting him like this."
Morgana nods and then, "We have to get him back to his people."
The scene changes and Arthur finds him staring at the small pale boy as Merlin bent over him, his hand on the boys forehead before he moved it down to the child's flushed cheeks. Merlin twisted at the waist and stared up at a pale Morgana, who was wringing her hands.
"He's burning up. How long has he been like this?"
"Since early morning, I think the wound may be infected. We need Gaius before it gets any worse."
Merlin shook his head fast, "No. We can't involve Gaius. It's too dangerous. Besides, if he finds out about this, he'll execute me himself."
Morgana shook her head.
"We need to get him out of Camelot, and we can't do that while he's sick. We need a physician."
Merlin pierced his lips together.
"I'll – I'll treat him."
Morgana looked skeptical, and for a good reason, while Merlin had become a good physician under Gaius's skilled teaching – it hadn't happened yet during the time when Mordred was first in Camelot, and while – from what Arthur understood – it was what Merlin had been sent to Camelot for, to be an apprentice, it had only been in the last few years that Merlin had actually seemed to take an interest in it.
"Merlin, do you know how to treat an infected wound?"
Merlin shook his head, "not exactly, but I'm a fast learner."
There was the sound of footsteps and then a knock on the door, Merlin and Morgana shared a look before Morgana closed the curtain, concealing both Merlin and the child. The woman stood there a moment and before his very eyes a mask fell over her features. Finally she breathed in and out once before opening the door with an easy smile.
"Arthur! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
His younger self frowned in annoyance.
"Don't get all excited. It's not a social call. I'm looking for the Druid boy and I'm afraid I'm going to have to search you chambers."
His sister certainly was a brilliant actress, not the barest hint of concern flashed across her features only perfectly placed annoyance.
"You are not searching my chambers!"
His younger self sighed in exasperation, no idea at that point that he was being had.
"Don't take it personally. I have to search the entire castle. It'll only take a few minutes."
Morgana shook her head.
"I'm not having you mess up my things!"
His younger self just looked exasperated.
"I'm not interested in your things, I'm just looking for any evidence that the druid boy's in the castle."
There was a sharp intake of breath behind him and he turned to see Merlin sticking his head out from behind the curtain and Arthur followed his gaze to the pair of child size boots that were sitting innocently in the middle of the floor.
The confrontation between his younger self played out in the background but Arthur ignored it, he'd experienced that himself, but he hadn't seen this, had missed what was going on right in front of him quite literally.
These glimpses into Merlin's life were something that he should take advantage of, because – perhaps he'd acted rashly? He wasn't so sure if executing Merlin would be a wise decision anymore, not when the man had appeared to have done nothing against the crown let alone against Arthur himself. It was still early – and he was sure there was much he still didn't know – but this was something he was going to take advantage of to make a more – informed decision.
Merlin's eyes flashed and slowly the boots crept forward.
"If you can't even find your own servant, what hope do you have of finding the boy?"
There was a whispered spell and the boots stopped their journey.
"Really, I'm touched by the confidence you have in my abilities. And, as much as I'd love to stay and talk, the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be finished."
The boots began their journey again – and dear god, this was ridiculous; it was truly a wonder that he or Morgana hadn't noticed what was literally going on behind their backs. Finally Merlin reached out and grabbed the boots and the curtain fell back to conceal the two males once more.
"Well, I'll save you the trouble."
"Trust me, if I could find him, I would."
"The druid boy's hiding behind the screen. I'm sure your father would love to know how you wasted you time by rifling through my things," then, with a mocking red mouthed smile she finished. "Go on."
"So you can have the satisfaction of making me look a fool?"
She laughed.
"In my experience, you don't need any help looking like a fool. What are you waiting for? Take a look."
His younger self threw his hands up in the air and – with a look of frustrated disgust – drawled, "why don't you go back to brushing your hair, or whatever it is that you do all day?" Morgana smiled. "Bye, Arthur. Good luck with the search!"
The scene changed.
Arthur found himself in Morgana's chambers once more as Merlin came through the two double doors with a handful of colorful bottles. Morgana stood, her face a mask of worry, her lip bloody from being bitten far too hard.
"What took you so long?"
"Sorry. Once Gaius gets talking about anatomy, there really is no stopping him."
Arthur is mildly annoyed that he didn't get to see the look on Merlin's face as Gaius most likely lectured on unaware of anything other than what he was saying and that Merlin was still sitting where he could still hear.
Merlin bent down next to the child and peeled back the dressing they must have placed on the wound, the child flinched and Morgana startled before turning to Merlin, a concerned and slightly angry look upon her face.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Merlin sighed, trying to apply some strange goop to the wound. "I'm doing the best I can. Morgana could you – " he nodded towards the half full bucket of water that sat on the floor next to the cot, and while Arthur was reasonably sure that he really didn't need more water, and while he was sure Morgana knew that – she nodded and picked the pale up.
"Thank you, Emrys."
Merlin looked horribly startled as the scene changed and Arthur found himself in the cave were the dragon had once resided, it was an – ominous space without the beast there taking up space, it was just a dark chasm, the ground falling away to cliffs.
Suddenly the space was alight though and Merlin was standing at the cliff's edge a lighted torch in his hand. He looked around and he must have found it was unsettling as Arthur because he called out rather quickly his voice tentative.
"Hello?"
It was silent – and then it wasn't – the dragon climbing around the corner and roaring in Merlin's face. Merlin for his part only startled slightly, before he sighed, shaking his head while the creature seemed despondent that it hadn't gotten a better reaction.
"Do you have to do that? You scared the life out of me!"
The creature perked up at that.
"The Young Warlock. No doubt you're here about the druid boy."
Merlin nodded. "How did you know?"
"I hear him speak as well. As do any with a drop of true magic in their blood. Like you, Young Warlock. Like me."
"Why does he call me Emrys?"
The beast looked perplexed at that, "Because it is your name."
Merlin frowned.
"I'm pretty sure my name's Merlin, always have been."
The dragon blinked.
"You have many names. Emrys, Ambrosius. Merlin is only the name given to you at birth."
"Do I? How does the boy know who I am? I've never even met any Druids."
The dragon chuckled, a deep rumbling sound.
"There is much written about you that you have yet to read."
Merlin looked startled, even a bit afraid. Arthur frowned why would that scare Merlin? But then it struck him – Merlin truly didn't want any attention, he couldn't understand why anything would be written about him. But then – either did Arthur.
He knew that if anyone was to hear him say such a thing it would be looked at as rude – but he truly didn't mean it that way. Emrys? Ambrosius? These were things Arthur had never heard before, excluding Morgana's wild ravings. He couldn't seem to separate the Merlin he knew and this figure that was – apparently – written about.
It was frightening to think that he didn't know anything about Merlin or about even – as the dragon had said once – their apparent shared destiny. He had heard Merlin call him strange things – like Once and Future King – but he didn't understand what it meant. Had laughed at it even, but what if there was more to it than that?
"You should not protect this boy."
Merlin looked angry at that.
"Why? He's a child! He has magic – he's just like me!"
The dragon growled at that, "You and the boy are different as day and night."
"What do you mean?"
"Heed my words, Merlin."
Merlin shook his head.
"Why should I not protect him?!"
But the creature didn't answer, he turned and flew, his wings flapping and Merlin's frustrated yells being the only sound in the lonely cave.
The scene changed and Arthur found himself back in Morgana's chambers. And – despite the tense atmosphere that was immediately evident – he was grateful for the bright and airy air in the rooms after the dank of the catacombs were the dragon resided.
Morgana knelt next to the child a wet clothe in her hand and was mopping at the boys head who twisted about in feverish terror. His queen knelt down next to the worried woman and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Let me care for him for a while. You need to sleep. You'll make yourself sick f you go on like this."
"His fever's getting worse!"
Guinevere frowned at the frantic note in her mistresses' voice.
"Morgana."
His sister startled.
"Did you hear that?"
Guinevere frowned. "What? I didn't hear anything."
Morgana turned a smile painted on ruby lips.
"He said my name."
"Did he? I – I didn't hear anything."
There was a knock on the door and Guinevere stood and moved across the room before she cracked the door and sighed, "It's Merlin." Morgana nodded and when Guinevere had just stood there Morgana motioned with her hand as his queen smiled sheepishly and opened the door.
Merlin rushed in, his face pale and his eyes deeply shadowed as if he hadn't slept and his whole mannerism was worried.
"How is he?"
"He's getting weaker. Whatever you did yesterday, it hasn't worked!" She looked terrified. "We have to ask Gaius for his help. After all you've done, you can't give up now! Please, if he doesn't receive treatment, he'll die!"
She sounded close to tears and Merlin nodded once.
"Okay, okay. I'll go talk to him."
The scene changed and Merlin stood in the middle of the chambers that he shared with Gaius – while the man himself puttered around gathering potions and placing them in his leather bag. Merlin frowned and then –
"The search for this Druid boy is becoming a real nuisance. With all the extra security around the castle, it's taking me twice as long to do my round. Is that everything?"
"Morgana's hiding the Druid boy in her chambers."
Gaius turned slowly and when he spoke he didn't sound surprised, but he did sound worried and yes – angry.
"When you say that Morgana's hiding the Druid boy, I take that means that you're helping her?"
"…Sort of."
"Merlin, you promised me that you wouldn't get involved."
Merlin sighed.
"I know I did. I'm sorry. I had no choice."
Gaius threw his hands into the air. "Every guard in Camelot is searching for this boy, and you're harboring him under their very noses. Can't you see how dangerous that is? What were you thinking of?"
Merlin glared his eyes fierce and steely.
"Was I supposed to hand him over to the guards to be executed? He's a child!"
"You think you can save this boy? What happens if you're caught? Who's going to save you?"
Merlin was quiet and he lowered his head and Gaius thinking he'd won the argument turned and walked to the opposite side of the room, but Merlin stood then and spoke and Gaius froze.
"You're saying it's wrong to harbor a young magician?"
Gaius turned then, "The difference is, Merlin. That you magic is still a secret. Though it's a wonder how considering how carless you are."
Merlin shook his head. "The boy – he's hurt. He's really sick. I've tried to treat him. We need your help."
Gaius shook his head, incredulous, "So – now you want me to risk my neck, too? I wish the boy no harm, but it's too dangerous."
"But if you don't, we may as well hand him over to the guards, because he'll die anyway. You didn't turn your back on me. Please don't turn your back on him."
Gaius sighed and finally he nodded.
The scene changed and Arthur found himself once again in Morgana's chambers as Gaius bent over the boy while Merlin, Morgana, and Guinevere stood to the side, their faces anxious. Finally, Gaius stood a deep frown on his face.
"I will treat the boy, but as soon as he's well, you must get him out of Camelot. But if you're caught – well god pray you're not – I – " he sighed, as he took in the three pale and anxious faces. "Well I suppose one thing's for certain I haven't made a physician out of you yet, Merlin."
The scene shifted and Arthur found himself in the town square as Merlin, Morgana, and Guinevere watched the guards searching a cart as the annoyed owner watched on. Merlin frowned his hands coming together in a worried gesture.
His queen laid a hand on his shoulder.
"The guards are searching everyone leaving the town."
Merlin nodded, his hands still twisting together. Arthur saw the moment the idea came to him, his hands stilling as he spoke, his voice hesitant. "There is – another way out. There's a secret door in the armory that I'm not supposed to know about. It leads to the lower town. I'll take the boy out that way."
Morgana shook her head.
"No. It's too dangerous. I'll – I'll do it."
That was the old Morgana – the brave woman he'd known, he missed her. This was hard – to see her here and know what she would become. It's – painful. He wished so much to save her, wished so much that he believed there was something left in her to save.
"But I – I'm good with secret doors and – things."
"If you are caught, Uther – he will execute you, the boy's – he's my responsibility. I'll smuggle him out of the castle."
"Well – you'll need a key for the door."
"Who has it?"
"Arthur."
The scene changed and Arthur found himself in his own chambers as Merlin stood behind his younger self who appeared to be eating – he peered over his younger selves shoulder – soup, a nervous look on his face before he muttered a spell and his set of keys floated off of his belt and up into the air behind his head.
Arthur turned, "Is there any bread?"
The keys stilled just out of his younger selves' sight, clinking together with an audible sound.
"What was that?"
"What?"
"There was a sound."
"Was there?"
The keys floated behind his younger self's' head as he stood and began to look for the source.
"What is that? Can't you hear it?!"
Merlin shook his head.
"I can't hear anything."
"Are you deaf? It's like a – it's like a jangling sound."
"There!" Merlin pointed and his younger self whirled as Merlin's eyes flashed and the keys dropped into the soup that sat on the table.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"A different sound like a – like a splash."
Merlin whirled then and seeing a loaf of bread held it out to the man who only shook his head and wandered towards his bed chamber, knocking his head against his hand. Merlin watched him go before fishing the keys out of the soup and slipping them into the pocket of his pants.
The scene shifted and Arthur found himself once more in Morgana's chambers. Morgana paced back and forth shifting dressed in peasant clothes before she threw a cloak over her shoulders and sighed, "It'll have to do." Then, turning to his queen, "I feel I've put you in danger without ever stopping to ask how you feel about it. I'm sorry."
Guinevere sighed, a bittersweet smile twisting her lips, "I know how it feels to face the threat of execution, and – I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
And it was – sad, terrible, to know that she would know it again.
There was knocking and then, "it's me."
Guinevere smiled and opened the door as Morgana gathered the silent child close to her breast and made her way, her face a mask of determination that Arthur was sure wasn't a farce and he was – sorry? He wasn't sure, that he knew she would fail – or at least this time.
The child was trembling though and Morgana smiled down at him. "We're going to get you out of Camelot. I won't let anything bad happen to you. You're safe, I promise."
Merlin cleared his throat, "Are you read?"
There was no hesitation, she nodded.
"Did you get the keys?"
"Yeah, err – the door is behind the shield at the far end of the armory. Be careful."
She nodded, and his queen flinted about, "I'll pack you some food and water for the journey," and then as if seconding Merlin's statement. "Be careful."
The scene changed and Arthur found himself outside the modest home that Guinevere and her father had shared at the time – and that know belonged to Gaius, who enjoyed being closer to his patients and whom enjoyed the quiet when he wasn't out and about in the surrounding villages, doing what he enjoyed best, helping people.
There was loud toll of a bell and then Merlin turned to Guinevere who had stood next to him silently.
"They're coming, we don't have much time."
There was the sound of feet pounding on the dirt and then Morgana and Mordred ran in, hair windblown and breathless. Guinevere handed a pack to Morgana her hands lingering on her mistresses with a worried look.
"There's enough food for three days," and then, Merlin piped up. "Your horse is fed and watered – I'll take you to her."
"No – I can't let you – there's no point in all of us risking our lives."
"What – what about you?"
She smiled, all brave eyes and black curls, "I'm the King's ward. I'll take my chances."
His queen looked shocked, "Morgana!"
She shook her head violently, "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to either of you. I – we – must go."
And then, though the child was still silent, he locked eyes with Merlin and Arthur heard his message clear as day.
"Goodbye, Emrys."
The scene changed and Arthur found himself standing before his furious father as Morgana, still dressed in peasant clothes, glared at the man and his younger self – stood between them looking completely lost as what to do – and he hadn't known.
Because he'd believed the child to be innocent, he still saw Mordred as just that – an innocent, perhaps he was wrong about that but he didn't care, he'd cared for Mordred and still did. Despite what happened he saw Mordred as a child still – unable to merge the angry and distraught man with this child who must have been so frightened.
His father paced.
"All this time, you've been hiding the boy in my own palace. How could you betray me like this?"
Morgana glared her eyes fierce.
"I would not see a child executed."
Uther laughed bitterly like this was a personal betrayal and not a human being trying to protect another human being, because that was what it was wasn't it? He shook his head, "I've treated you like a daughter. Is this how you repay me?"
"I did what I thought was right," and he – he hadn't remembered how close she had sounded to tears.
"You think its right to conspire against the crown, to conspire with my enemies against me?"
Morgana then echoed his thoughts at the time. "How can this child be your enemy? He's just a boy," and she sounded so close to begging, something so against her character that he was struck once more with how much she'd cared for this child.
"He is a Druid."
And that was the final thing for his father wasn't it? Despite – as he now knew – not all Druids being magical, and always seeming so peaceful.
"Is that such a crime?"
His kind would see me dead and this kingdom returned to anarchy and you would help them."
Morgana shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes and her hand clutched close to her chest in a passionate display.
Then – please, punish me – but spare the boy. I beg it of you."
Uther shook his head and glared at her before turning to his – thus far, silent son. His younger self was frowning, and he'd been so confused, but he'd nodded.
"No, please! He's done nothing to harm you!"
Uther ignored the woman.
"Let this be a lesson to you."
"You don't have to do this!"
Uther turned to Arthur then, "Do you hear me? I want him executed at dawn!"
"Yes, Father."
And then his younger self turned and left – but the memory wasn't done yet because, Morgana whirled and glared, the tears that had threatened to overflow now streaming down her cheeks.
"What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?"
His father tried to walk away – but Morgana grabbed his arm and pulled and although she'd only succeeded in moving the man a step it enraged Uther and he whirled on her and grabbed her throat, pressing her back into the chair hard enough that surely she must have received bruises.
"Enough! I will not hear another word! Do not speak to me until you are ready to apologize for what you've done."
Uther left then – and Morgana fell to the ground, her hand around loosely holding her neck, but it was in her eyes – she looked devastated, as if some image she'd previously held had just been shattered, and perhaps – this was when the true rift began to from between their father and his daughter, when she'd sat on the ground after being attacked and looked like her whole world had been shattered in a moment.
The scene shifted and he found himself in his own chambers as Morgana paced about as if waiting – ah yes, ok than. He remembered this as well. Morgana though, she looked more nervous then he remembered her being, this was the Morgana people weren't allowed to see he supposed.
"Make yourself at home."
His younger self drawled and she whirled a mask up in the blink of an eye. She cleared her throat and yes he didn't doubt it hurt because she winced and when she did speak it was in a quiet rasp that somehow – he remembered – seemed to be more compelling than anything else.
"You can't let your father's execute him."
"You're lucky he's not executing you. Are you telling me he really was behind the screen when I came to search you chambers?"
Her lips quirked up a bit and she nodded.
"I know you, Arthur. I know you believe he's wrong to execute a child."
His younger self sighed then, "What I believe doesn't matter. My father's made up his mind. He won't be talked out of it. I tried, Morgana, I did."
"Then – I suppose the time for talking's over."
Arthur shook his head.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen."
"We have to get him back to his people."
"I can't believe you'd let an innocent child die!"
Morgana screamed something at him but it was cut off as the scene abruptly shifted and Arthur found himself staring at Merlin. Merlin who was watching a man sharpen an axe.
He was white – and he looked like he hadn't slept, like he would be ill, like he wanted to retch but couldn't, like he was past the point where he felt physically sick and it had sunken deeper than that. Into his bone, into his soul.
Merlin leaned his head against the wall, and Arthur wished for only a moment that he could be seen, if only it was so – so that Merlin wouldn't look like that.
There was the rustling of fabric and Arthur turned, noticing his queen before Merlin did. Merlin who just walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, and he held on like she was a lifeline. Guinevere merely wrapped her arms around him for a moment before she patted his back and he backed up, she smiled hesitantly.
"Come we – we have work."
Merlin nodded once and they parted, Merlin looked steadier now, but he still looked like he was to be ill. Arthur wondered if he was seeing himself in the boys shoes. Merlin pushed the doors to Arthur's own chambers open and –
Yes, ok. It made sense now why Merlin had looked so happy – if a bit cautious – when he'd found out their plan.
"Sorry. Was I interrupting something?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Go make yourself useful, muck out my horses – "
But Morgana interrupted, "I trust Merlin."
"We're going to break the Druid boy out of the dungeons."
"You can't do that – how are you going to do that? Isn't this a bit rushed?"
But yes, there was the hesitant hope.
"Uther's only been delayed by the rain. He's going to execute him at dawn, there is no time. "
"I mean – it's too dangerous! You've already been caught once, and if the King catches you a second time he'll never forgive you."
"I'm not worried for myself.
"Merlin – he is right. When my father finds out the boy's escaped, he will suspect you being involved."
"It's suicide."
"You must go to my father and apologize. Dine with him; he cannot hold you responsible if you're with him when the boy escapes."
"You need me if the plan's to work. You can't do this on your own."
"Merlin will take your place."
Merlin frowned, "Me?"
"I'm going to take the boy out through the burial vaults. There's a tunnel that leads beyond the city walls. Get my horse from the stables and meet me there. There's a grate that covers the entrance to the tunnel. Bring a rope and grappling hook to pull it off. "
No – No, I can't –"
"Merlin, do you understand? If you're not there to meet us, we'll surely be caught."
Merlin nodded.
The scene changed and Arthur found himself once again in the dragon's cave, as Merlin stood before the beast, his face hesitant, like two things are warring inside him. Fighting for dominance.
"I – I need to know why you told me not to protect the boy."
The dragon growled.
"You seek my counsel, and – yet, you choose to ignore it."
"Just, please – please, please, tell me why!"
"If the boy lives, you cannot fulfill your destiny."
"What's he got to do with my destiny? You said it's my destiny to protect Arthur, not the boy's."
"Then – It appears, you have the answer you seek."
Oh – oh – oh – oh. If he – it – was implying what he thought it was implying – it made sense the way Merlin had acted about Mordred. Almost everything, from almost not coming to – to the cold shoulders and glares and inability to trust.
"You're telling me that little boy is going to kill Arthur?"
"It seems that is up to you."
"No, please, he's a child! You can't know that for certain."
The dragon stared at him for a moment before it seemed to sigh, letting out a large breathe of warm air that even in this memory – Arthur could feel.
"You, Young Warlock, have it in your power to stop a great evil. You should choose to take it."
Merlin shook his head, "There must be another way! The future it isn't set in stone!"
The dragon gave him an almost pitying look before saying his parting words, "you must let the boy die, if Arthur is to live."
Oh – oh – oh – oh. It made sense. So much sense, and he should be scared – but he's not because Mordred was a boy then, and now he is still a boy – a hurt little boy now – and damn it – perhaps it will be his own downfall but he can't stop seeing him this child. You – you don't kill children. You do everything in your power to prevent them from dying, everything you can to protect them.
And, as the shifted, Arthur watched Merlin's shields break down as he heard the boy cry, as he lay on his bed. Saw the look on Merlin's face, saw the way the boy was so conflicted, and he saw Merlin break because he couldn't not help this child.
But – oh, it made sense now.
"Emrys. Emrys. Where are you, Emrys? Emrys. Help us. Please! They're coming."
"I'm scared, Emrys. They will kill me. Don't do this. Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me. I thought you were my friend. We're the same. I don't want to die! Emrys! Emrys! Emrys!"
"Goodbye, Emrys. I know we'll meet again."
The scene shifted and Arthur found himself staring at the boy and his younger self as the Druid's embraced their own, their child. But he remembered he wouldn't have let him leave – not without even knowing the child's name.
"It's all right."
And at the time he hadn't thought he'd see him again, but –
"My name is Mordred."
And – oh dear god, he can't hate this child.
"Good Luck, Mordred."
A/N: OK, so this has been a crazy long unintentional hiatus. First i had all my regents and finals. Then i was down in Florida for two weeks for my uncles wedding, then July came and i spent that time up at my aunts with my cousins without a computer, and then i had Colgates Young Writer's Workshop (I've graduated out ahhhh no) and then i frantically started to write.
But I've also been doing work on this story. I completely outlined Merlin's side of the story and I've been doing a lot of research but I've been having some problems which brings me to my first question for you.
Question for you: Okay, so i need a monster for this story, I've been looking into urban legends, but I've been having trouble finding anything, let alone I've been sleeping with the lights on because I've been scaring myself silly. I was going to do the Headless Horseman but decided against that and then i was looking at Sawney Bean but I'm just not sure i want cannibalism in this story because i wouldn't even know who to start to write that character. So finally here is the question: What is your favorite urban legend/monster?
Second question for you: Favorite artist and genre of music? I've been listening to Taylor Swift's albums for like weeks and I'm obsessed with Stay, Stay, Stay Everything has changed, and Starlight off of her newer album.
And yes, before anyone calls me out on it, the scene where Merlin hugs Gwen was completely made up, and I've altered some spoken lines just because they bugged me, although not enough to change the story.
Now it's off to do my Summer assignments 175 pages of reading for history and an essay and an essay for English on the scarlet letter. Which brings me to my next point, the only thing i learned from reading the Scarlet Letter was that puritans were giant dickheads. I understand why it's considered a classic and i understand it was something very different in the time it was written. But literally it was dull for me to read and literally Hawthorne must have been one of those people that can't just say hi, he had to give a whole speech!
Abby