CHAPTER ELEVEN
"People of Camelot. This kingdom was built upon the values of courage, justice and honour. In my duties as a knight, and serving as your King, I am sworn to uphold these values.
"I believe that a mark of true courage is to admit wrong, to accept responsibility for past mistakes, and to commit oneself to making reparations.
"The truth is, I have been party to a grave injustice. In the year of my birth, my father, King Uther, decreed that all magic should be banned in Camelot, on penalty of death. So began The Great Purge. It was lauded as a cleansing, but instead it has stained this land with the blood of thousands. My hands, too, bear this stain, as I followed the laws of my father and perpetuated a cycle of violence that has seen no end.
"I can think of no stronger example of the needless and senseless destruction that this conflict has wrought, than the desolation of the ancient forest that has surrounded, protected and nourished our city for generations. It burned, just as so many innocents have burned on our pyres, and Camelot would have met the same fate if not for the magic brought to bear in our defence.
"I stand before you today, humbled and ashamed, for although I have committed grievous crimes against those with magic, I know now that I owe my life and my kingdom to the very people that I and my father sought to destroy.
"In recent days, my eyes have been opened to the truth of what magic is. It is power, yes. But it is also life. Magic is woven into the very fabric of our world. It is in the trees, the earth, the water, the air, the fields and the flowers. It is in the bedrock of stone that forms the foundation of our city, and it is within each one of us. We have seen magic do great evil, but what we did not realise is that it can and has been used for tremendous good.
"The Druids are, by their nature, a peaceful people. They harness magic to nurture, to heal and to protect. They did not deserve the suffering that our laws have inflicted upon them, and that is why our laws need to change.
"Today, I apologise to the Druids, to the people born with magic, and to the families and friends who have lost loved ones to this misguided crusade. I apologise for the profound grief and pain we have caused. I apologise for the homes and lives that have been destroyed, and the communities that have been torn apart.
"There is nothing that I can say or do to make up for the past. All I can ask is that you receive this apology in the spirit in which it is offered, and that you join with us in forging a future marked by peace, equality and mutual respect.
"Henceforth, the Druids are recognised as citizens of Camelot. The law banning the use of magic and enchantments is rescinded, and those individuals who possess the gift of magic are once more welcomed within our kingdom.
"Rest assured that the laws governing moral conduct remain firmly in place. Every man, woman and child in Camelot has the right to be protected from harm, and we will take whatever action is necessary to ensure your ongoing safety and welfare. Let it be known that hatred and bigotry will not be tolerated, nor will abuse of power. The violence must stop somewhere, and the responsibility lies with all of us.
"Unfortunately, Morgana and her army have not withdrawn their declaration of war. Our knights stand ready to defend us, as they have ever done, but they do not stand alone. The warlock known as Emrys stands with us.
"We all bore witness to his power today when he stepped out into the open to douse the flames that threatened to annihilate us. This is not the first time that he has used his magic in Camelot's defence, and we all owe him our lives many times over. Until now, he has operated in silence and in secrecy because, had he been discovered, he would have received a death sentence rather than the thanks that he deserves. He has never sought recognition or reward, but he has stepped forward now to offer us hope for the battle that lies ahead. Emrys fights for us, and we could have no greater champion.
"These are dark times, but a brighter dawn lies just beyond the horizon. We are on the cusp of a golden age, not just for Camelot, but for all of Albion. An age of peace and prosperity, of joy and of magic, that could be ours if we are bold enough to claim it. Today marks the beginning, and I invite each of you to unite with us as we march confidently towards a better tomorrow."
Arthur concluded his speech, and for a long, horrifying moment, he was met with nothing but silence.
He stood on the balcony with his queen by his side, his soldiers and his subjects assembled in the courtyard below. He had never been more aware of the weight of his crown, or the fact that it held no true authority without consent of the governed.
If they did not agree with his decision, he could have a full-scale riot on his hands.
He had thought that the people had followed his father because they were afraid of him. Uther had never allowed his judgement to be questioned or his orders to be defied. But perhaps, after all this time, his rhetoric against magic had become accepted as fact. Perhaps the prejudices were too deeply ingrained. Perhaps fear was stronger than faith.
Guinevere took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Just wait, Arthur," she murmured.
His people's Queen was right.
It began with a smattering of applause. An elderly woman, stooped with age, rapped her cane against the cobblestones and shouted "Here, here!" A young man let out a whoop of fierce joy and swept his wife and infant into his arms, spinning them around and laughing. A storm of clapping was led by Sir Gwaine and taken up by the rest of the knights, some of whom added the clash of their swords against their shields to the din. The revelry swiftly spread through the rest of the crowd, and soon the courtyard was a riot – but of cheering and celebration.
Arthur had won tournaments and melees, duels and great battles, but this was the proudest moment of his life.
ooOOoo
Merlin cried.
He hadn't meant to.
He had known what was coming. He was there for the negotiations with the Druids, for the crucial moment when Arthur had changed his stance on magic, and for the signing of the treaty. He had written most of the speech himself and Arthur had delivered it verbatim, so none of it should have come as any surprise. He was prepared to be stoic yet supportive, proud of his King but in no way emotionally invested in the outcome.
But when Arthur began to speak, the tears had welled up, unbidden.
Still, he thought there was a chance he could regain his composure, until Arthur went off script at the end and started talking about Emrys.
The thanks he deserves.
We could have no greater champion.
Merlin had fled the scene and was now hidden in an alcove, bawling his eyes out.
He should have been overjoyed, and he was, of course he was. This was the happiest he had ever felt. Magic was legal. Arthur had become the King that Merlin always knew he could be. Everything Merlin had worked for, sacrificed for, fought and bled and killed for, had finally come to pass. This was the culmination of years of struggle, the fulfilment of every dream and goal he'd ever had.
This was everything.
But he was also grieving.
Grieving for the dead, who would never experience this new world that they were creating. Grieving for the orphans who would never know their parents, and for the parents who would never see their children grow old. Grieving for great love torn asunder; for Hunith and Balinor, Gaius and Alice, Mordred and Kara. Grieving for Lancelot and Elyan, who had been taken before their time.
Grieving for his beloved Freya.
It hurt, and it would never stop hurting.
How many more could he have saved, if he had only acted sooner? If he had reached out to Morgana when she first discovered her powers, and they had worked together to restore magic to the land? Arthur had made Emrys out to be a symbol of hope, but if he had done more to advocate for magic and the people who wielded it, perhaps Morgana and others like her would not have been driven to such desperation and violence. Perhaps he could have stopped this war before it even begun.
Morgana had been his friend, Arthur's sister, and now she was lost to them forever. Merlin knew that he would have to be the one to kill her in their final confrontation, but the idea of plunging a sword through her heart made him want to tear out his own.
Yet he knew that he would not hesitate, not for a second. There was nothing he would not do for his King.
His visions warned that it would not be enough.
He sobbed himself sick, because Arthur had fulfilled his destiny and his fate was closing in.
They had lost so much time, wasted so many years. A decade of friendship, and yet all that was between them were lies and secrets. Arthur still did not know who Merlin was, and even if Merlin told him today, they could never get that time back.
The battle was coming; Merlin could feel it in his bones. A shroud of death was settling over the kingdom and he feared that they had days at most.
From the beginning, Merlin had believed he was fighting for magic and for the future of Albion. But it was Arthur. It was always Arthur. He would do anything, give anything, to keep his King safe. He would surrender his magic in an instant if it meant that Arthur could live a long and happy life.
But his death had long been foretold, and all the power Merlin possessed was worth nothing if he couldn't save him.
Merlin curled into a ball around the knot of agony in his gut. All the stress and fear he had tried to squash deep down inside was spilling out of him in a tidal wave. He was drowning.
"Emrys?"
Merlin's head shot up and he swiped furiously at his eyes, only to see the last person he wished to face.
"Mordred." The man destined to murder Arthur.
"Are you alright?" His brow was furrowed with concern, but the image of his cold expression as he ran Arthur through was at the forefront of Merlin's mind.
"I wish to be alone," Merlin snapped.
Mordred flinched at his tone. "Have I done something wrong?"
Not yet. He forced different words past the tightness in his throat. "No. I'm sorry. Today has just been…"
Mordred tentatively sat down next to him, unsure of his welcome. Merlin tried not to tense at his proximity.
"I know. For me as well."
Echoing down the corridor, they could hear the sounds of a celebration beginning in the banquet hall. In the event that Arthur's announcement was well-received, Guinevere had arranged a feast, with the Druids as the guests of honour. Food and drink would be plentiful. But here, in their little corner of the castle, it was quiet and subdued.
Solemn, like a ritual of mourning.
"This is a great day for our people," Mordred said quietly, "yet all I can think about is Kara. I wish she could have been here."
Merlin's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Mordred."
"I like to think that she would be proud of what I have done in her name."
Somewhere within, Merlin found the strength to muster a glimmer of a smile. "I'm sure she is."
Mordred placed a hand on his shoulder. "I believe that your Freya would be proud of you, too."
His tears seemed inexhaustible today. Merlin had no energy to hide them this time. They travelled a well-worn trail, slipping down his cheeks and disappearing into the ragged hem of his grey neckerchief.
"What troubles you, Emrys?"
Merlin shook his head, the splash of a stray tear dampening a patch on his tunic.
"You can tell me."
"You would not understand."
Mordred studied him in silence. Then, "You're afraid."
What was the point in denying it? Merlin was so sick of pretending to be okay. "Yes," he whispered.
"You proved this morning that you are more than a match for Morgana's power."
"It is not Morgana I'm worried about."
"Then what?"
The word slipped out before he could stop it. "You."
"Excuse me?"
Merlin shouldn't have said anything, yet once he started, he found he couldn't stop. "The Great Dragon warned me years ago, when you first came to Camelot, but I didn't want to believe him. He warned me again when you allied with Morgana, and I still refused to heed his words. And then a Druid seer confirmed what he had said all along. You are going to kill Arthur."
"What? Why would I ever do such a thing?"
"I wish I knew."
"Merlin, I wouldn't. I'm loyal to Arthur. Prophecies are easy to misinterpret, perhaps you simply misunderstood-"
Merlin gave a mirthless laugh. "I saw it in a vision, as clear as day. A blood-soaked battlefield, and you standing over Arthur with a sword in your hand."
"I- could have been fighting by his side. Defending him until the last."
"You gutted him like a pig," Merlin said bluntly. The worst part had been the shock in Arthur's eyes. His life had been a series of betrayals from the people he trusted most; it was cruel that his death would be the same.
"No. I could never. Merlin, I swear to you, I have no reason, inclination or intention to kill Arthur. He is my sovereign. My friend."
"What is foretold cannot be changed. I have learned that the hard way."
Mordred spread his hands helplessly. "What can I do but give you my word? I swear on my life and my magic that I will not harm Arthur." His eyes flared gold, sealing his oath.
Merlin stared at him. Could it be that easy?
At that moment, the warning bells began to toll.
ooOOoo