MBM
"This man has done nothing wrong, sire," Merlin said. "You have no proof that these accusations are genuine!"
"SILENCE!" the king screeched. "SILENCE OR I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD AS WELL!"
"My lord," Merlin soldiered on, sweat beginning to bead down his forehead, "you are not doing the right thing! You are wrong to sentence him to death!"
"Get down, dog!" The king raised a hand and smashed his fist hard against Merlin's face, sending him to the ground. Blood dripping from his mouth, Merlin crawled back frantically as Arthur advanced upon him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.
"I am never wrong…" he hissed into the servant's terrified face. "NEVER!" And he flung Merlin aside into the shadows of the hall.
For a moment, the real Arthur stood where he was, too stunned to move. He felt as though he had witnessed something so wrong that no one ought to have seen it: a man turning against his friend. And it was wrong, so wrong.
In horror, he ran as fast as he could to the pillar against which the future Merlin was slumped, a horrible purplish bruise spreading itself across the left side of his face. But there was some else wrong, too. His jaw was offset, hanging awkwardly.
"Please, no…"
But it was what Arthur feared. It was broken. Even though he was crouched directly in front of the man, Merlin seemed not to see him. His tiny body began to shake, great sobs wracking the skinny frame, and tears were trickling from his eyes and steaming down his face. He was a broken man, and in a way he portrayed what the rest of the kingdom was suffering…dejection. He lived in fear, fear of what Arthur, king of Camelot might do. And so did they.
Once upon a time, this might have been a joke – the whole ghost-come-back-to-show-him-the-past-and-future thing. But not any more. This was real. It would happen if he did nothing to stop it. Is this what he would become, what his kingdom would become if he did not listen and learn from Merlin? Merlin, who was his friend, whether he liked it or not; Merlin, who did speak the truth, whether it hurt him or not; Merlin, who he could depend on throughout anything, whether he believed it or not.
The ghost-Merlin came up behind him, almost as if it knew his thoughts; and he stood up and turned around, facing him.
"How can I stop this?" he asked.
"It is not my destiny to give you the answer you seek," replied Merlin. "This you must figure out for yourself." And he was beginning to fade; the room was beginning to fade; everything was disappearing into a mist of vapour.
"Merlin! No! Don't leave me! I can't do this without you! Merlin!"
"You will be fine," the fading figure reassured, smiling lightly.
"No! Please come back! NO!"
But the figure was gone.
"No…no…it's not right…have to do something…" The world was slipping away, sand through his fingers. He swayed. "Got to stop this from happened…have to do something…"
He tossed and he turned; the courtroom was gone. He wasn't sure where he was. His arms failed about, and he shouted more frantically.
"I can't let it happen! No! No!"
"Arthur!"
But he didn't hear the voice trying to pull his through the sea of broken images.
"No! No! MERLIN!"
"Arthur, wake up!"
"No! No!"
"Dammit, Arthur! Wake up, you dozy bugger!"
But wait…didn't he know that voice? Wasn't that…
"Merlin?"
"Yes, it's me!" Merlin cried, and he was in the castle, in his room, in his very own bed, and everything was just how it had been before. "Now get up, will you!"
Arthur sat up, mouth slightly agape. He was home. That was weird. What had happened? How had he got into bed? Who had changed him into his nightclothes? And why was Merlin not dead? Because Merlin wasn't dead, not in the slightest bit dead. He was instead rummaging around in the wardrobe in the corner, looking somewhat disgruntled.
Arthur stared at him.
"Uhh…what happened?" he asked.
"Happened?" Merlin repeated, just as a shirt fell out of the wardrobe, wrapping itself around his head. He pulled it off and continued, "Oh, nothing happened!
"But –"
"But that's what the problem was!" Merlin went on, a little too loudly. "You wouldn't get up! Gwen and I, the former of whom gave up a few shout hours ago, have been trying to wake you since dawn!"
"I…I was dreaming?" Arthur couldn't believe it.
"To heck you were! Though no dream for me, was it? I was meant to be getting on with this ages ago! A right thoughtful prat you are!"
SNP
Arthur just sat in his bed, slowly blinking his eyes, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened.
"And do you how much you snore?" Merlin continued, throwing clothes left and right over his shoulder. "It's impossible for a human being to snore that loud!"
Arthur, completely incredulous, stared at him furthermore.
"Now get out of that bed so I can clean the sheets!" Merlin demanded. "I'm never going to finish all my chores before sunset…" He picked up the pile he had thrown on the floor and chucked it at Arthur's head. "Don't look at me like that! Put some clothes on!"
But Arthur couldn't help staring at Merlin, even though his head was covered a pair of trousers and a shirt. His manservant…his friend, alive and angry at him.
"I'm sorry…" Arthur whispered, his voice unsteady. "For all the bad things that happened…"
Merlin, now trying to clean the fireplace, turned to look at Arthur.
"Forgive me for being the prat that I sometimes am," the prince continued.
"Which is most of the time…." Merlin agreed nonchalantly.
"Probably…" Arthur started to fidget with the seam of his sheet. "I am sorry, though."
"Hmm…" Merlin shrugged, looking unimpressed. His face was already black from the coal and ashes from the fireplace he was trying to clean, and his clothes had lost all recognizable colour.
He took up a brush and crawled half into the hearthside again. He never noticed Arthur climbing out of the bed. He never saw the prince sneaking up to him. He was still angry with Arthur when he suddenly felt two arms fold around his shoulders, pulling him out of the ashes.
"You're alive…" Arthur muttered softly as he buried his face in Merlin's neck.
"Errr…" Merlin was completely taken by surprise and didn't know what to do. The future king of Camelot was hanging around his neck, weeping softly and speaking nonsense. Why would Arthur say such things? Merlin never died…did he?
He couldn't stand to see Arthur like this. Proud, fearless prince Arthur, so…lost. So Merlin put his own arms around Arthur, trying to ease his pain.
Arthur gripped the back of Merlin's shirt, holding it tightly to never let go. His dream – or whatever it had been – had shown him his past and his future. A ghost had showed him his real, horrible self and what he was to become if he continued acting like the prat he had been for the last couple of years. Or all of his years, actually.
Merlin had opened Arthur's ignorant eyes and the prince was going to make sure he was never going to be the man he had seen in his dream. Not ever.
Merlin patted Arthur on the back, waiting for him to let go, which he didn't. The grip just got tighter as Merlin backed up a bit.
"Don't ever die; don't ever leave me…" the prince mumbled, the tears on his face causing Merlin's shoulder to become damp.
"Arthur, far be it for me to break all this up, you are kind of crushing me…"
Wiping his tears away, feeling a little stupid, Arthur finally relinquished his grip. Merlin took a deep breath, probably to both fill his lungs and calm his frayed nerve. Being hugged by Arthur was not a normal everyday occurrence. He was about to edge awkwardly away, when the prince suddenly stopped him. Placing a hand on each of his servant's shoulders, Arthur looked him deeply in the eye.
"I will never, ever, ever let your head get chopped off."
Merlin blinked.
"Care to elaborate?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. Arthur looked at his feet for a moment and swallowed.
"I had a…dream…just now. You died."
"Does that have some deeper meaning? Killing me off in your slee –"
"Merlin! Let me speak!"
"Sorry…"
"So you died and turned into a ghost. You took me to the past and showed me my old servants." Arthur paused for a moment, trying to think what to say next. "I treated them awfully, Merlin, I killed them all…" He wiped away another tear. "And I didn't care. I moved on."
Merlin bit his lip, having no idea what to say.
"And then you took me to the future," Arthur went on, "showed me myself as the king of Camelot. You were there, too. Not dead – yet – but you were close to dying. You looked terrible, Merlin! Nothing but skin and bones, and it was all my fault!" Tears were streaming down his cheeks again, but he didn't wipe them away. "I don't want that! I don't want to yell at you and hit you! I don't…I…I am not going be that kind of king!"
He started to sob quietly again, still shaking his head. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulders, making shushing sounds in his ear.
"You will not be that man, Arthur, I know you wont."
"How can you be sure?" Arthur cried, trying to pull away, but Merlin kept hold of him.
"Because I know you! You would never do anything to harm me. I would bet my scarf on it…"
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Your scarf?"
"Yes."
"That rag?"
"Watch it…" Merlin grinned.
Sorry it took so long to put up the next chapter for you guys. I know some of you have been waiting.
Anywayz, what did you think?!?! Me and MBM need reviews... and fast! Or Sheridan* will come to haunt us... :-|
I know he will!
*read Happy Go Lucky by MagicbyMerlin... *iz not making ads again*
