Author's note: I've used some Old English here that's not (completely) canon. 'Fylst' means "help/aid". 'Leoth' means "light" – I used part of a spell used in the series, namely 1.09 Exalibur ('leohtbora' = "light-bearer"). I found some alternative spelling for this but decided to go with this, but I'm certainly not an expert, so all flaws are mine. I don't want to go quoting every spell in the series (in 1.04 Merlin mumbles a whole lot of them!) if I could help it so you might find some of them missing or simply not being quoted. If canon spells appear I won't translate them, since they're easily found online. To be honest I find it more awesome when Merlin uses magic without spells.
I particularly liked writing this chapter, since it mirrors my favourite episode.
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I Am the Embers of You Fire - You Are the Breaking of My Dawn
Part 8
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Prince Arthur's earliest memory of Bayard of Mercia is from when he was old enough to reach about his father's knees, when Bayard wasn't yet King but had been sent by his aging father in attempt to clear the hostile air between the two kingdoms. Unfortunately it had not helped much.
For a year or so after that, there'd been no direct attacks from either side, but disrupted patrols were a regular thing. Arthur had grown up knowing Camelot had more enemies than allies. His father has always reminded him of the importance of strength – strength and control on the inside, so that you can take control of the outside as well. Allies are important and one should always seek peace first, not war, or else the kingdom will crumble. And this is a momentous step ahead, toward that goal: never before have all the leaders of the Five Kingdoms come to meet in this way, for talks of peace. Besides King Bayard of Mercia, also other Kings with smaller kingdoms shall come; or at least their ambassadors. King Cenred of Estecia has not been in Camelot in person ever, and this time is no exception.
His manservant however, still bumbles about obviously not knowing of the importance of such a moment (honestly, if he ever can get the boy to address him properly…!). And he's late – again.
Arthur isn't surprised the least.
"Merlin," he complains when the boy finally decides to make his appearance, practically crashing through the door, and then frowns at the askew neckerchief. "What took you?"
"Breakfast," Merlin gasps, huffing for breath between the words; "Ran - all the way - from the kitchens. You've noticed the stairs? There are a lot of them. Stairs. 's kind of impractical."
A tray is placed on the table. Arthur has noticed a sharp difference between the service of his last servant and Merlin: there's never wine presented to any meal, except some dinners when the servant apparently deems it appropriate (much to Arthur's annoyance he finds this has to do with how he's "behaved" on that particular day, how many times he's called the boy an idiot and particularly if he's ordered the stables to be mucked out). There's water or mead instead. And there's fruit, apples mostly, next to the venison or other piece of meat Arthur requires. He's confronted him about it of course, but then Merlin said something about wine dulling the mind and the body, and Arthur somehow took to heart in a way he hasn't a servant's words before. It doesn't stop him from drinking wine completely – of course not! He's not some dainty lady - but he's no longer surprised at the lack of it.
"I can see that. We need to work on your fitness."
"I'm perfectly fit!" Merlin protests.
"Sir Bedivere is stronger than you and he fights like a girl."
Momentarily Merlin's face adorns a curious expression that makes the Prince wonder what he's thinking (that is, if the boy is capable of any kind of commonsensical thoughts), but then the boy clears his throat and he dismisses it as nothing.
"Doesn't that discourage them?" Merlin says and moves toward the bed to make it. "Your knights, I mean. That you say things like that about them."
The Prince rolls his eyes: his manservant is clearly exaggerating. "He's new and needs to learn his place. Didn't you see him at training yesterday?"
Merlin had seen. The man had tried to push a passing by servant into the mud, since the servant was running other errands and was unable to fetch the knight water. There'd been some cans nearby actually, but Merlin thinks the knight just wanted an excuse to show off his newly acquired power and status, and the servant had been unable to protest, ready to get walked over like a doormat. But Arthur had jumped in between and Merlin had gained a new level of appreciation for the Prince; he may act a lot like a dollophead, but on the inside he might actually be not that bad.
Possibly.
Maybe.
"Anyway," Arthur says, "you can get my laundry done now and hurry back here. The reception of King Bayard is in two candle-marks."
()()()
It takes two trips to get all of the prince's dirty clothes to the laundress. It's a bit annoying, but the first week Merlin hadn't even realized there was a laundress and thus had done it all by himself (he might have used a tiny bit of magic) and that took twice as long.
Actually it'd taken a couple of weeks to get to know all the nooks of the castle, where the stables were and the fastest shortcuts between the kitchens and Arthur's rooms. (He still didn't know all of those, naturally). It'd also taken a while to figure out the routines – when to get the prince his food, and from where and whom, and whom to ask the questions.
A lot of the other servants weren't that fond of him at first. Some still aren't (and some probably never will be); after all, being the prince's manservant is seen as an honour. A place you work hard to get. And Merlin had just waltzed into Camelot and saved the prince's life and here he's now, without any prior experience or having worked his way up.
Gaius had informed him that his position actually gives him the right to order around other, lower servants. Apparently the last manservant, Morris, used that privilege to his advantage when Arthur was having his moods and ordered a lot more than usual to be done. It was the only way to get all chores done in time.
Merlin is a bit skeptical to use that privilege yet. He's a newcomer so there's a guarantee he'll actually be listened to, especially by older servants who've been here for awhile. And it's one thing asking for help, another to order it. In Ealdor, things were so different…
Anyway, he's got his magic. In time of crisis he could always use it (and hide quickly, to avoid Gaius' eyebrow of disapproval).
One person he dares as for help though is Gwen, who is endlessly sweet and kind and selfless. She doesn't see his asking like orders. She's also the one who's shown him a lot of Camelot, so he's immensely grateful for her being there. After saving her life (with the help of Arthur and Morgana and Gaius – without them he wouldn't have been able to do it, but she still adamantly thanks him even if he doesn't deserve it) she's been even more helpful, always asking if there's anything she can do. He feels somewhat ashamed actually, about that. Simply getting her name cleared was an uphill battle, and people still glances at her in the market, and though she doesn't speak of it much Gwen is still worried about her father's business being affected by the rather recent events.
(He wonders, not without shame or worry, if she would be as thankful if she knew that he was the reason she ended up in those dark dungeons with the sentence of execution hanging over her head.)
()()()
Sometime later, Merlin arrives to the prince's chambers to find the man dressed in newly polished boots and that favourite jacket of his. He's somehow relieved that he's not helping Arthur to actually dress unless it's his armour or the occasional coat. At least, not yet, even if he supposes it's inevitable. The baths, however, cannot be avoided. The very thought of seeing Arthur completely naked makes him feel … strange, and he averts his eyes constantly in such situations. The Prince has no problem baring himself in his chambers: the first time the Prince ordered a bath and then had him stay during it, Merlin hadn't been able to look him in the face for the rest of the week. Arthur probably thinks he's either shy or just odd as usual; he's been called an idiot enough to be reminded.
"Good, you're back. You need to prepare for the reception of King Bayard's company, and the feast tonight."
Merlin regards him wide-eyed. "I'm going to be at the banquet?"
"You're going to be there making sure by cup doesn't run dry," Arthur clarifies and ignores his servant's spluttering. "Speaking of which, you'll have to wear the official livery of the Prince's Manservant."
Merlin looks absolutely horrified when Arthur presents him the clothing. The Prince won't let him get away, though. He will need some entertaining tonight, during all those boring speeches.
"…Please tell me you're not serious."
()()()
Thankfully he won't have to wear that ridiculous clothing just yet. When telling his mentor of it, the old man just laughed, which was completely unfair.
The company from Mercia is large, consistent of some five dozen people at least, all clad in various shades of blue, while those of Camelot have clad in red and gold. There are servants, courtiers, knights and of course King Bayard himself. The man is tall and broad-shouldered and stern-looking, but there's no shadow over his face like there is over Uther's. The two Kings stands face to face stiffly. Arthur stand next to his father, his manservant half a step behind the prince, and there are two dozen of their finest knights there too, long blood-red cloaks draped over their shoulders.
But then the tense air is eased as the two Kings shake hands and Uther says, "Welcome, King Bayard of Mercia. It is an honour to have you here at Camelot."
"I thank you, Uther Pendragon. It is an honour to be welcomed. I look forward to the, hopefully agreeable, talks that we shall have here," replies the other King, and the people in the hall exhale in relief as one.
()()()
Right after the reception, the physician just finds out he's out of some important supplies and as his dogsbody(he truly loathes that word) Merlin of course must get him some from the apothecary.
So he has to rush there and get back and help preparing for the feast, and bathe and dress in that awful clothing, and still he hasn't swept the fireplace in Arthur's room which the prince already has reminded him five or so times today in displeased grunts. Merlin is not happy.
Abruptly his train of thoughts of taking revenge on the prat for having him wear that stupid hat is interrupted when a body collides with his, and he winces, involuntarily stepping back as quickly as possible before the person could feel the outline of his body.
Quickly Merlin tries to help the person to their feet. It's a young woman in blue: one of Bayard's servants, rather pretty with her hair hidden beneath a bun of blue and red. The things she'd carried have fallen to the floor.
"I'm sorry! Are you all right?" he exclaims and starts picking up the pieces of cloths that she's dropped.
He notices something then about her. It's familiar yet not, like he's seen something similar not long ago. A web… But then, it's gone, like he's blinked and a veil has covered his eyes, and he thinks nothing more of it.
The girl stands. Her eyes are very blue and she's very pretty, smiling at him gratefully. "It was my fault," she says and hold out her arms, and Merlin startles when realizing she's waiting for him to hand over the folded cloths. "Thank you."
"Wait! What's, what's your name?" he asks. I really should hurry. I'm already late.
"Kara. Aren't you Prince Arthur's manservant?"
"Yeah…I'm Merlin," he says and grins.
"What an honour, serving the Crown Prince himself!"
"Yeah, well, somebody's got to keep the place running," he mutters ears turning red.
She laughs slightly, it's a very pretty laugh and then she thanks him again and walks away. He can't hinder himself from looking after her. At that point he should notice there's something off, but he doesn't and moves on as if there's nothing strange about it.
()()()
The feast is almost painful. To his feet, for as a servant he mustn't sit down for a second, and his pride, because of that stupid feathery hat. Throughout the speeches Arthur keeps glancing over his shoulder at him and flashing a grin like a fool, and Merlin glares back at him. He notices the looks of the other servants. They're not wearing feathery hats or hats of any kind and he envies so them badly, wishing he could take off the thing. Is the prince's goal here in life to humiliate him?
Somehow though, he survives through the speeches – long ones, mind – and the royals take seat. Food is starting to be brought forward and in the sudden liveliness among the servants, Merlin slips the hat off, placing it discretely under a table in a corner. Gwen is standing there, waiting for her mistress' word, and the girl smiles amusedly at him. Merlin smiles back, feeling a bit better already.
Someone tugs on his arm and he turns around, eyes widening when he sees her. "Kara? What is it?"
The girl looks distressed. "Come with me, please, Merlin." Her hand on his arm lingers, and he glances at the hall. The lords and ladies are conversing and laughing and singing, and Arthur is in a deep discussion with sir Leon. His goblet is newly filled, so he won't need him for awhile.
Merlin lets her lead him out of the hall through a back-door, into an alcove.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asks, again.
"It's … I shouldn't tell," she says and hesitates. "I'll be in trouble."
Something is clearly wrong. "Please, tell me."
There it is again: the web, a red hue wrapped around her wrists, but he blinks and it's gone again and he finds himself unable to concentrate on it – anyway, it doesn't matter. Kara grips his sleeve, anxious and he looks at her and begs her to tell what's wrong, so that he can help – do something – anything.
"I never meant to see! I was just changing the linen, and I knew I shouldn't interrupt master Bayard but - oh, I wasn't meant to see…!"
"What hadn't you meant to see? I promise, you won't be harmed, nobody will know you told me," Merlin swears.
The woman's face grows somber. "Bayard doesn't come for peace. The goblets he means to give the King and Prince Pendragon … one of them is poisoned, Prince Arthur's goblet. I saw it. He put something in it, I'm certain, and if he drinks it …"
Merlin's eyes go wide.
Arthur!
()()()
It's in the middle of King Bayard's speech that the servant bursts into the hall, nearly knocking over one of the attending servants, who is holding the beautifully adorned box from which the king of Mercia just has picked up two goblets and filled them. Arthur has put his just to his lips when a voice cuts through the air:
"Stop! Don't drink it!"
The idiot cannot be serious, Arthur thinks. But Merlin is serious and wide-eyed and tears the filled goblet out of the prince's hand.
"It's poisoned."
At the announcement everyone flies from their seat and draws weapons, guards of Camelot pointing theirs at those of Mercia, or toward Merlin, who stands in the centre of the hall completely calm. Like he's expected it all. King Uther looks dismayed; King Bayard shocked. Arthur admits to himself it was mistake not bringing his sword, just a knife attached to his belt. If a fight breaks out it'll be no match to a Mercian sword.
What is the fool doing?
"This is a mistake. Merlin," Arthur says in a firm voice. "Hand me the goblet and apologize immediately."
The servant refuses, shaking his head and grasping the goblet with both hands. "It's poison. I can prove it."
"No, it is not poisoned. Hand. Me. The goblet."
The guards stand ready to arrest the boy or whoever else responsible when Uther raises a hand and speaks: "Prove it then, boy. Either the liquid is poisoned…" Everyone tense, accusing eyes falling onto King Bayard and his company. "Or it is not, and you are free, King Bayard, to do as you will with the boy." The deciding is met by a slight nod from the other King.
"Father, this is a mistake," Arthur says, trying to sound calm despite his rapid pulse. If it is poisoned – how could Merlin know? Why would he suspect it? – if it is, then Merlin would … "I'll drink it."
"No! No. It's all right," Merlin says suddenly sounding quite calm and gives him a tiny smile. And bowing his head in respect at the Prince, not the King, like a salute, the servant raises the goblet to his lips and drinks.
At first there's nothing, no reaction to anything unusual and Arthur breathes out. It's all right. He takes a step forward, ready to openly apologize to King Bayard for this grave mistake and horrid accusation – and to plead that he, Arthur, is to make sure Merlin's punished accordingly for his insolence, because he's seen servants punished in the past. He's seen their blood drain on the cobblestones, their bodies too weak to stand, and by the gods, he doesn't want to think of Merlin in that place, surrounded by Mercian guards.
But, then.
Merlin's breath hitches and he clenches at his throat. His knees crumbles beneath him and heavily he falls to the floor and the emptied goblet rolls away with a clatter from the suddenly relaxed hand.
Before Arthur manages to form a comprehensible thought, he finds himself – it's like a dream, detached and unreal – kneeling beside the body on the stone floor. His eyes are lidded and limbs unmoving, but there's yet breath in the boy.
"Arrest them!" King Uther cries, and King Bayard's jaw is set when he and his entourage are led past the Prince of Camelot, dignity still intact, from the hall, down into the dungeon.
Arthur doesn't hear or see it. His eyes are fixed on Merlin's rising and falling chest and the pale face and the feel of his dropping pulse as he presses his fingers to the servant's neck. There's heartbeat, but it's weak.
From the chaos behind him Gaius drops onto his knees next to his ward, and Morgana's maidservant is there too. "Merlin?" the physician gasps. There's no response.
"He needs to get to my chambers. I cannot treat him here."
The prince doesn't hesitate, picking the servant up like he weights no more than a child and carrying him out of the hall.
()()()
He lets the poison take him, knowing he's saved Arthur. That it's not been in vain. Even if he might die. The thought should scare him, but somehow, it doesn't. If he saves Arthur, at least he'll have done something good. Done something. Been important.
Darkness wraps around him, but he thinks he sees there's a face above him before that, strained with worry, blue eyes fixed on his own. It's too short and all too blurry to determine, and then he loses sense of his body altogether.
()()()
The prince paces furiously up and down the room.
"How long does he have?"
"Four days at the most. Maybe less, but certainly no more."
Arthur swirls to look at him aghast. "And what about a cure? Surely you can cure him, Gaius!"
"There's only one antidote, but I need the very same flower that the leaf belongs to, the Morteus flower. It can only be found in the caves of Balor." There's a rough map next to the text and the physician draws a trail across it. "It's a dangerous journey going there, sire. Very few have returned from that place and been able to tell about it afterwards."
He glances at the servant, unmoving and pale under the blanket. Four days – he's so young. Four days – will it be time enough? Four days – Merlin doesn't deserve to die, he doesn't deserve to end this way.
It has to be enough.
()()()
It's so dark … so dark. It wraps around him like a blanket and clenching at his throat and there's nothing to see, no matter how hard he tries opening his eyes – it just won't work. He fumbles, reaching out. His hands feel like covered in oil. There's nothing to grasp.
There's nothing to be aware of, time has ceased to exist and the pain is but a faint throb from far away. All thoughts are blurry.
If he could just push away the dark and get up again –
Reach up and -
If -
()()()
"He is just a servant."
"So his life is worthless?"
"His life is worth less than yours. You are not leaving this castle tonight!"
The King's words are an order.
Arthur rides anyway.
()()()
There's a glimmer – suddenly – silvery and cold and it slowly steps forward. Merlin's breath hitches in his throat. He recognizes the weary face, but not the shadow trailing behind it. "Arthur," he cries out, but the man doesn't seem to notice the one following him. The person is wearing red. Red like blood, sinister and dark, and Merlin opens his mouth again trying to warn the prince. "Arthur!"
The Prince is hanging on the ledge of a cliff dangerously and his grasp is slowly slipping and Merlin wishes he could reach out and help him. He's tries moving forward but is frozen, shadows grasping his arms and holding him back. "Arthur!"
This darkness – it's the darkness piercing from every direction. If he could will it away, then Arthur could see and climb up and get away from that dark, dark place.
"Light," Merlin whispers, he needs light, "Leoth ... leoth fylst …Arthur."
Warm blue forms in the palm of his hand, steady, and he pushes it in the direction of the prince, it floats toward him and casts shadows on the stone walls. A cave. It's a cave. Merlin shivers; he doesn't like caves, the confinement, the dark stone trapping him from all sides.
"Climb, Arthur!" he urges the prince, "Follow the light! Hurry! Faster!"
From the ledge, that red shadow suddenly appears, a furious look on her face – she's dangerously beautiful and somehow familiar and there's a net of power around her. Her magic gathers in her hand and Merlin launches forward. "No!" He can't let her harm Arthur. But his limbs are so heavy. There's so much pain and the dark is starting to return, pressing from the edges.
"You are a fool, Emrys," the woman hisses, causing him to start. "You might have escaped this time, but the next, you shall not. I swear you this."
Emrys. Emrys. That name … the dragon always …
Merlin's head hurts, his chest hurts, he wants to sleep but he needs to help Arthur, it's difficult to think. "Emrys?"he asks; "Who are you? Why do you call me Emrys? Why are you doing this?"
But the woman fades away without answer and now, Arthur has reached the upper part of the cave, following the light. The light ... Merlin's eyes close, he's so tired … the darkness starts to fade and the noises are going gray and muddy. He wants to sleep. But. Arthur, and the light. He has to make sure Arthur's safe – that he makes it out of the cave and the dark and back to Camelot.
The light.
()()()