Chapter Summary: Three people that should never be together in Merlin's world are all in the same area. Merlin may be having a tiny heart attack.
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Chapter X: I Walked With You Once Upon a Dream
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He barely looks any different is the first thing Merlin notes. Perhaps his hair is a little shorter, a little darker. Perhaps he's a bit leaner, a bit less sun-tanned. Wrinkles are far fewer on his face, the throne yet to burden his shoulders. He dons his usual collared deep red coat over a dark brown tunic, a small wooden cylindrical article strapped around his waist in place of a ceremonial sword. As he walks, it is obvious that he's favoring his left leg, and Merlin fondly thinks that it is so like the king to overdo it during training and sprain something.
"Who is it? What happening?" Robin asks confusedly, affirming Merlin's suspicions about the state of his eyesight.
"It's the prince," Theo whispers back.
Merlin sobers up at the words. The prince, not the king. Not the one who gave him Ygraine's sigil, not the man he saved from vengeful magic-users and who saved him in return, not the prat who keeps giving him chores meant for two servants, not the king who personally looked for his missing manservant or knighted commoners.
The prince, upon noting the impromptu stillness his presence wrought, pauses. He says with an entirely deadpan expression, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
The townspeople laughs and snickers, breaking the almost unnerving tension. The words jar Merlin into another state of shock; Arthur is never so publicly casual with his subjects, not since he was crowned king. Merlin glances around but only a handful of people appears as befuddled as him.
Most of the crowd goes back to their own businesses, now less bothered by the royalty in plain sight. Theo even goes back to his meal after an amused snort. The warlock can do nothing but stare at the gray-haired man. Is this the norm then, in this world - princes joking around with their subjects?
Prince Arthur's gaze wanders the grounds and lands on the tables where most of the applicants are gathered - where most of the magic-users are gathered. Merlin instinctively bristles, unknowingly holding his breath. He waits for shock and disgust to flash through those vibrant eyes, for anger to twist the prince's features, for a sword to be brandished in his direction -
Arthur's eyes meet the warlock's, and the prince frowns. Merlin tenses further. Arthur recognizes him, Merlin thinks hysterically (and hopefully) for half a second. After a beat, however, the furrow of the prince's brows smoothens and his gaze moves on to other applicants. Arthur tilts his head in acknowledgement of the clustered magic-users. He resumes limping without another word or look at them.
Merlin exhales, part in relief and part in disappointment. Of course. This man isn't his magic-hating Arthur. This man is someone who grew up in a kingdom where the use of magic is commonplace. The warlock thinks he should have been more amazed to see Arthur acting so casual after seeing a group of sorcerers. But a pulse of dismay thrums beneath his veins instead. This man isn't his best friend so Merlin shouldn't really be hurt or surprised when those azure eyes had passed him over after a glance, when the slightest bit of recognition remained absent in the prince's countenance.
The warlock sighs as he presses a hand over his chest, feeling the embossment of the sigil through his tunic. A pang of homesickness hits him stronger than ever. While Arthur's easy acceptance is something he has been working on and dreaming of for years, he would prefer to see it happen with his best friend and not just someone who wears his face.
His eyes, without explicit permission, return to the prince. Merlin is just in time to see the prince pause again, surprise flickering upon his face. The warlock follows the direction of the prince's stare and finds himself locking gazes with jade eyes.
Morgana Le Fay, who's standing casually in an isolated corner, immediately focuses her attention elsewhere as soon as Merlin catches her. The warlock watches with blatant trepidation as Prince Arthur unhesitatingly approaches the Lady Morgana. The prince greets her with a small smile. Lady Morgana curtsies, bowing her head before offering an affable smile of her own.
The warlock's hands unconsciously clench into fists as they exchange words inaudible to his ears. Wonder and terror war inside him at the sight of them being friendly with each other, something Merlin thought he would never see again. He waits for one to swiftly pull out a sword and the other to mutter a lethal spell with a sneer. The reasonable part of his brain knows this Arthur is in no danger at all; the prince is conversing with someone who obviously feels no animosity toward him. Yet his magic is ready to pull Prince Arthur out of peril at the slightest hint of it.
"Does their conversation really deserve that much scrutiny?"
Merlin flinches so hard he bumps into Robin. The green-eyed boy releases an 'oomph', almost tripping over himself. Only the warlock's quick grab of his arm steadies him.
Mordred fights to keep off the amusement on his face and continues, "I doubt the prince is spilling the exam's secrets to the Lady Morgana. Not that she needs any help in that area anyway."
Theo pauses in eating long enough to give the new arrival with a cursory glance. Robin blinks guilelessly up at Mordred.
"Hi, I'm Robin!"
"Mordred," the druid introduces with a polite tilt of his head. "You're the one that tackled Merlin earlier."
Robin sheepishly scratches his cheek. "'Tackled' is a strong word."
Merlin struggles to even his breathing as Theo takes the initiative and introduces himself to the druid. Mordred, Morgana, Arthur - all in close proximity with one another. This world is truly and vastly different if that can happen without someone actively dying.
Merlin tries to let go of his useless worries for possibly the tenth time since he met familiar faces. He has had enough things to think about. He knows next to nothing about these people and their circumstances, no matter how much they look like his friends and enemies.
"Is it true that you don't know any aura-suppression spells?" Mordred's question provides a much needed distraction.
"Not really," Merlin admits. "Is - Aura-suppression, I suppose I'm doing it right now?"
Mordred nods, expression revealing none of what he thinks of Merlin's answer. "If the crystal didn't disprove it, I would have thought you possess little to no magic."
Mordred's words make the warlock think. He always takes precautions to ensure his magic is restrained and controlled at all times because the threat of execution really urges a magic-user to be careful. Mayhaps, in the process, he's unconsciously 'suppressing his aura', as they put it? It bears further thought. The warlock himself can sense magic when it's strong and near enough, although he has never identified a magic-user upon first glance before. How many times has Merlin unknowingly revealed himself to other sorcerers with the ability to sense magic? Is that why Mordred - the one in Merlin's world - immediately recognized him as Emrys even though they hadn't met before?
Merlin straightens as another epiphany hits him. Why didn't this Mordred identify him as Emrys then? The warlock side-eyes the druid, wanting to ask but knowing doing so might be too suspicious. Emrys is a prominent name amongst druids, and Merlin's not too sure non-druids like him are supposed to know anything about the supposed title.
Fortunately for Merlin's sometimes foot-in-mouth tendencies, Theo pulls all three of them into a another conversation, effectively changing the subject. Theo narrates the events the exam six years before, one the man himself also participated on. Mordred leans forward, doubly interested as a participant of the current exam. Robin is merely nodding his head off in excitement. The warlock tries and fails to give the story his full attention; from the corner of his eye, he watches two royal siblings talk.
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"Is that all of them?"
"Yes, sire."
"How many did you disqualify?"
"Ten were caught with drýcræftéaca in their bloodstream, and three more with magic-enhancing charms and totems. I'll keep the list of their names on record."
"Hmm. That's unfortunate . . . Let's proceed then."
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Another sudden hush from the crowds and the thundering footfalls of new arrivals halt their conversations.
A group of more than two dozen people march into the training grounds, colorful and intricately woven garbs indicating their highborn status. One of them is easily levitating two sealed crates with a raised hand. Heavily armored guards follow behind them. At the forefront of the assembly, the Court Sorcerer and a regal woman walk side by side with diplomatically blank expressions.
It takes Merlin less than a second to recognize the woman as Ygraine Pendragon.
Years ago, Morgause had conjured before him and Arthur an image of a woman who the sorceress claimed to be Arthur's mother. Even to this day, Merlin is still unsure whether it was truly Ygraine's spirit or merely an illusion Morgause created to manipulate Arthur. However, Merlin is now certain of one thing: the image had accurately resembled the real Ygraine Pendragon.
This Ygraine Pendragon bears far more wrinkles and holds herself far more assuredly. Laugh lines trace the contours of her cheeks, and blond locks with streaks of gray frame her pale slender face. Merlin sees Arthur in the effervescent colors of her eyes, the sharpness of her cheekbones, and the shape of her nose. Age does little to tarnish her beauty. In contrast to King Uther's rough countenance and sharp edges, Queen Ygraine emanate a soft and graceful exterior with the hint of steel beneath.
The warlock cannot fight off the bittersweet smile that curled his lips. Arthur would have loved to see his mother like this, alive and hale. Yes, Merlin thinks, gaze catching onto the man trudging beside the queen. It's a lovely surprise to see a dead loved one alive and hale.
Prince Arthur excuses himself from his conversation with the Lady Morgana. He joins his mother in the lead, sidling up to her side. Even though the injury on his leg must be paining him, the prince still manages to keep up with the delegation. Ygraine shoots the prince a small soft and brief smile, which Prince Arthur returns. Something in Merlin's chest clenches at the sight.
The applicants gathered around the tables quickly clean themselves up. They noisily place down plates, dust off crumbs of food from their clothes, and wipe their hands. Theo hastily chews and swallows the last of his meal, cheeks swelling comically in the process. Nobleborn applicants smooth out the nonexistent crinkles in their lavish clothes, backs straightening and chests puffing out.
"I think that's my cue," Robin mumbles. When Merlin turns around a few moments later, he finds Robin gone from his previous spot and nowhere to be found in the training grounds. For someone so graceless, the boy sure moves fast. The warlock wonders absentmindedly and momentarily whether Robin has met with the person he referred to earlier.
The entourage becomes Merlin's focus once more as it heads towards the space beneath the platform of the empty ornate chair. The guards and nobles fan out, and settle to stand behind the queen.
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"Will you not tell me why Balinor and Uncle Tristan was in your room earlier?"
Ygraine's steps do not falter but it is a close thing. She glances at her son, whose gaze remains placidly on the crowds despite his astute question. The queen should have known Arthur would have caught on.
"It's nothing you should be concerned with," Ygraine answers honestly.
She would rather not worry Arthur with something so trivial, especially on this day. Arthur says nothing more in reply as their entourage halts.
Balinor mutters a short spell and then, nods at the queen. Ygraine straightens and shifts to face the large number of applicants and audience.
"My people," she starts, voice reverberating loud and clear throughout the area. "Believers of the Old Religion and of the New. I, Ygraine Pendragon, welcome you all to the sixth Apprentice Exam!" People cheer and clap enthusiastically, whooping and hollering unrestrainedly. Ygraine allows herself a smile. When the noise dies down, she continues. "Today, we are honored by the presence of many sorcerers and sorceresses, all eager to learn the ways and beauty of the magic in Camelot's court." The queen gives the gathered applicants an appraising look. For a short moment, she attempts to look for the applicant Balinor has been worried about but none particularly stands out. "Unfortunately, my court can only take in a few of you." Ygraine lifts a brow, eyes glinting with challenge. "Today, you shall have to show us your potential, show us you are worthy to be apprentices to the greatest magic-users of our time."
Most of the people behind the queen preen subtly at the praise, pride shining quite clearly in their posture. Some applicants shift nervously while others adopt countenances hardened by determination.
Ygraine makes a small gesture at Arthur. "My son, Arthur Pendragon, will be my eyes in this exam." Her son tilts his head in acknowledgement of being addressed. "I'm certain you are all very excited so I'll not delay any further." The audience cheers once more in response.
Ygraine locks eyes with a handful of the participants, discretely trying to identify which ones will be chosen. A spark of recognition causes her to pause as she meets wide stormy-blue eyes. She frowns, trying to place where or when she has seen the dark-haired pale-skinned young man. Balinor clears his throat, bringing her back to her senses.
Ygraine tears her gaze away and bids with finality, "I'm hoping to see some of you around the palace after today. I'll be leaving you in the capable hands of Camelot's Court Sorcerer, Balinor of the Thrakon Isles." The queen sees more than one face blanch slightly at the mention of Balinor. Well, it seems some of the applicants know exactly what they are getting into.
With that, she breaks off from the large delegation. Immediately, her brother joins her and guards surround them both. She walks to exit the training grounds with her escorts, off to give a similar speech on the mage's exam.
Before she fully departs from the grounds, she shoots the familiar-looking applicant another assessing glance. A second glimpse does not provide her any more clues. She turns her gaze to the front, an unsettling feeling pricking the base of her spine.
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Queen Ygraine's short speech has left Merlin reeling a bit. It's a stark contrast to the first speech the warlock heard from King Uther. Ways and beauty of the magic in Camelot's court . . . The beckoning words have alleviated his anxiety to some degree. A little bit of excitement even flares within him. If nothing else, the Queen's speech has driven one undeniable fact into him; magic is not only allowed in Camelot but also celebrated. Merlin can do as much magic as he pleases.
In front of his not-father and this not-Arthur.
Merlin swallows the lump forming in his throat, his earlier confidence waning. The notion of performing in front of the two disconcerts him, though he cannot pinpoint exactly why.
Prince Arthur easily clambers up to the empty cushioned chair despite his injured leg. He settles on it comfortably, eyes passively wandering around the area. Unlike with his own Arthur, Merlin can deduce nothing from the prince's facial tics and subtle gestures. This inability makes the warlock a little bit uncomfortable; he can usually tell the direction of Arthur's thoughts.
Balinor, meanwhile, has taken the spot the queen vacated. "Applicants," he greets monotonously. Without further introductions or preamble, he begins, "This year's exam is comprise of three parts."
Merlin hears Theo groan. "Brilliant. Three more ways to torment us."
Balinor clasps his hands behind his back. "First is a test of luck."
"Luck?" Mordred's brows pinch in confusion.
Murmurs burst forth from both the people in the audience and from the training grounds. Merlin starts. He's not sure he likes the sound of that.
"Then, of course, a test of magic," Balinor continues, unperturbed, amidst the pandemonium. "And lastly, a test of character." With a deep weighty tone and an aloof expression, he announces almost ominously,
"Let us begin."
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A/N:
"I know you . . . I walked with you once upon a dream." – Aurora, Sleeping Beauty (1959)
I'm super sorry for the long wait and a short update. This is supposed to contain the whole first part of the exam because I don't want the little clues to be forgotten. Then, I reached 8K words and I'm like, 'WTF? How did it get so long?' so I decided to cut it. But don't worry, next chapter should be up before New Year's! I hope the BAMF moments don't disappoint T.T
Also, oh god, you guys are actual saints! Thank you so much for all the favorites, follows, kudos, bookmarks, and all those encouraging and lovely comments! I'm so glad you guys (so far) like the world I placed Merlin into! They really truly inspired me; let me tell you, it's been so long since I've written so much in such a short time.
Check my profile/bio to see my progress on the next chapter! But the (unedited) next chapter is about 80% done as of the moment I'm uploading this!
Constructive criticisms are very much welcome! Kindly point out any glaring errors!
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Happy holidays and I hope you all get to spend enough time with the people who recharges you!
~ Vividpast