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Of Crystal and Rock

Of Mind and Body

Arthur's mind is a jumbled mess and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do or where he should be. He's never felt so lost and aimless in his own kingdom before. He could be attacked at a moment's notice and he would have absolutely no drive to defend himself. It's a terrible feeling and he's never been this disjointed during an incident before. At the beginning of the night he thought it was going to turn out gloriously and now he realizes it's become a confusing trampled disaster.

"Sire," Percival urges his king, taking him gently by the arm and guiding him away from the outer gates of Camelot. The invader might still be lurking and who knows if there could possibly be an ambush waiting. The king's safety should always be highest priority on a knight's mind; especially when the king was too preoccupied to even think or move let alone defend himself.

It was a huge shock to see Merlin use magic, if that's what actually happened. The goofy manservant had always seemed so honest and open that the knight could scarcely believe what he had seen with his own two eyes. The dark haired boy had seemed odd in many ways, but keeping a secret as huge as this seemed unrealistic and impossible. Percival isn't even sure of what he did or didn't see but just by the look on Arthur's face he can see the desolation of devastation.

Two guards hover behind Percival seeming oblivious to the reason their king is acting like a statue. The knight clears his throat, "Have you found the intruder yet?"

"No Sir, but we are still looking," is the immediate response.

"Inform me the instant you find him," Percival orders.

The men nod and head off to guard the outer gates. He then pulls the blonde ruler towards the castle and they walk up the large granite steps that lead into the foyer. The king allows himself to be pulled along, saying nothing. Percival is at a loss of what to do.

Though it's only been less than ten minutes since everything happened, it feels like an impossible eternity to Arthur. He cannot for the life of him get a coherent thought in his mind and it's making him angrier by the second.

"Perhaps you should go down to the dungeon and talk to him Arthur?"

He finally glances up at the use of his name and mulls the suggestion around in his head. Cooling down first would probably be the ideal method of procession but at the moment his brain is in turmoil and he can't actually form an organized rationale. Arthur thinks confronting Merlin now might be the worst possible course of action but as he turns away from Percival he can already feel his feet moving towards the prison of there own accord.

Stealthily he makes his way down and doesn't know if he is pleased or disappointed that Merlin doesn't notice his approach.

Arthur schools his features to look at the dark haired man coldly, which is anything but how he truly feels, "Is it true?"

Merlin swings around from his position against the bars with impossibly wide blue eyes, "Arthur, I…"

"I said is it true!" he yells.

Merlin says nothing.

"The sword moved to you, came to you perfectly as if you had just called it."

Merlin winces at the anger and hurt in Arthur's voice. The king doesn't even realize yet that it is hurting his manservant ten times worse, "I wanted to tell you. I meant to, I was just about to…"

"I don't believe you. How can I believe anything you have to say to me anymore?"

"Arthur please it wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Well it doesn't really matter what way it was supposed to turn out because this is how it happened. You brought this upon yourself and you have no one to blame but yourself. I trusted you!"

"I know. I know there's nothing I can say now, but at least just let me explain myself. And tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."

"Sorry for being a liar? How can there be an explanation for that?"

Arthur can't bear to listen to another word and so he doesn't. Turning on his heel he makes a beeline for the stairs and slams the large mahogany door behind him when he reaches the top. His back rests against the wood and he tries to calm his breathing. Merlin had been the one person for so long that could calm him down during any circumstance. Occasionally the servant infuriated him or set his heart racing in the most unmanly of ways (this more so of late) but now there was just pain. A penetrating and excruciating feeling worse then a piercing blade to his heart. A bitter agony now that was almost too much to bear without his one rock to lean on.

The guards at the door pretend they do not see their king leaning against a door for support and finally he pushes up and away from the door, standing tall on his own two feet. Then Arthur notices Percival fidgeting in the entrance way, looking everywhere but at his king. When Arthur clears his throat the knight starts walking over as if he has just noticed the man and speaks, "We have not found the infiltrator yet, my lord. The guards are still looking for any signs of tracks leading away."

"He must be found at all costs."

The blonde haired ruler starts walking back to his chambers and Percival continues along next to him. When they reach the door Arthur pulls it open but before he can go inside the knight pulls out his sword.

Arthur looks at Percival questioningly for a moment and then realizes it's not his own sword he's pulled out but Excalibur. His eyes stare expectantly at the object as if waiting for it to do something, but it does not. For an instant the man almost decides to reject the sword but if someone went to all the trouble to try and steal it then it must be worth something, and must be protected. All he can think about is the way the sword went to Merlin as if an animal returning to its master. After another moments hesitation Arthur gingerly takes the sword by the hilt and goes into his room.

"Goodnight, my king."

Arthur drops the sword on his table and curls up in a ball on his bed in the most unkingly manner and begs sleep to take him from this rotten, terribly stressful day.

The once and future king closes his blue eyes but the only thing replaying in his mind is the sword shooting through the air and landing perfectly in Merlin's grasp. At first he'd thought Excalibur was going to do something much worse and he was terrified for the other's safety but then he noticed the scabbard so he relaxed, but only for a moment. The intruder had looked directly at Camelot's king, so pleased under his hooded cloak. Those piercingly blue eyes that seemed to mock him in a way Arthur hadn't even understood at the time. He had not moved it, though Arthur had wished with all his might that it would have been the other man. Unfortunately after scouring the woods they had still found no sign of the infiltrator or a trail to follow. He had vanished. It was truly a shock to see Merlin's face after that moment. The man had been mortified and the regret in his eyes was so palpable that it left the young king speechless for more time than it should have. He'd needed to be prodded by Percival and even then he could barely choke out the words that would condemn.

Arthur turned over on his other side and willed the thoughts to stop ruining his attempt at sleep. How could Merlin possibly have had magic for this long and he hadn't noticed something, anything to give it away? Was he really that blind or was Merlin really that devious? He wanted sleep to overtake him, not these awful feelings.

Arthur's eyes open hazily and the curtains have not yet been obnoxiously pulled from in front of the window to let in the sun's torturous rays. He wonders if that means he doesn't have to get up yet. Burying his face in his pillow he wonders what Merlin will bring him for breakfast and if this is some experiment to see if the king will get up without some prodding. Suddenly the thought of Merlin jolts him from the comfort of his bed and he throws the covers off his body.

He hears the sounds of pottery hitting the table and zones in on the area.

"My lord you startled me," the servant comments, straightening the breakfast and cup that he had been placing on the table. Then he bows lowly and moves towards the window. He is not Merlin, and no one can replace the infuriatingly clumsy servant.

"Go polish my armor Mer..." he clears his throat then continues, "George."

"At once, my lord," the replacement manservant replies and scurries off to do just that.

This man is so proper, on top of doing his work professionally as well as perfectly, he's just not Merlin. And he never will be because Merlin has an irreplaceable spot in his heart, as much as Arthur wishes he could deny it.

It's only been a few minutes since the man was dismissed and there is a knock at the door. The king sighs dramatically and calls out, "Enter."

A different servant bows, "Leon has arrived. Elyan and Gwaine should be back shortly as well if the messengers are correct, Sire."

"Inform me upon their arrival as well."

"My lord," the servant replies and closes the door with a loud clank behind him.

Arthur is in his room surrounded by solitude once again and it is not what he truly wants. He takes some maps and papers from the neat pile on his desk and spreads them across the table. Slowly he picks an apple off the gourmet platter of food and sinks his teeth into it. If Merlin were here he would have never brought Arthur this much food, claiming he was only trying to keep the king in shape. Merlin's not so subtle accusation of saying he was fat. The apple crunches satisfyingly in his mouth and he pushes the plate farther away from him and repositions a map of Lot's kingdom. All the villages that had been going through problems were along that border and the king was pleased that Leon had come back safely.

He'd only been working a short while when another knock came from the door, this time reciting that Elyan had returned from the borders. Arthur stood and decided it was time to debrief the men and see how his kingdom was faring.

A few hours later Arthur plops down at his desk once again and puts his head in his hands. The meeting with Leon and Elyan had transpired perfectly adequately. The ruler was pleased that almost all the bandits and ruffians had been taken care of except for one rather large village towards the east. It would probably be best for Arthur to take a contingency of knights and scour the area completely. Then he could see everything for himself and make sure it would put a stop to all this aimless fighting and killing. All he truly wanted was for Camelot to be a peaceful place where everyone could live comfortably.

Then his mind wandered to someone who probably wasn't so comfortable at the moment. Still he couldn't believe what had transpired not even a day ago. Was it truly feasible that Merlin had had magic for such a long time and he had never known? His closest friend and possible love interest had been hiding such a major secret from him. The aloof air-headed Merlin was actually a sorcerer?

The mind is a strange and wondrous thing and although the once and future king knows he should be dealing with the troubles of his kingdom, still he cannot get the other man out of his thoughts. He stands in the eerie silence of his room and goes to the window. He doesn't realize so much time has passed until he sees the orange and yellow ebbing of the sun as it starts moving towards the ground. It feels wrong and unnatural not to have Merlin scurrying around his room doing who knows what and looking for woodworm. Suddenly a thought strikes Arthur. All those times Merlin had been playing dumb or doing something goofy; had it been related to something with magic?

"Sire?"

Arthur's head shot up but it wasn't who he had wanted or expected. George his occasional replacement manservant was in the doorway. The king shook his head of course it couldn't be Merlin. Merlin was in the dungeon right now. All alone in a dark and dusty cell not knowing what his fate would be. Arthur sighed, he just couldn't think straight anymore.

"Yes?"

"Gwaine has finally returned from the borders. He was the last knight you've been waiting on," George replied as he stood at attention in a ramrod straight position as any servant in the royal household should. It just didn't fit in Arthur's room.

"Very good thank you," Arthur responds and flips his hand dismissing the servant.

George bows slightly in respect and heads out of the room again. Merlin would never have left Arthur in this state by himself and he certainly wouldn't have just left all meagerly. He would have put up a fight or stuck in his two sense or a million other things. Arthur slammed his hand down on his desk so hard that a cup rattled off and all the maps scattered across the floor. Torn between forgetting Merlin ever existed and running down there letting him out and pulling him in a scandalous embrace, he stood and started pacing about the room. Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure yet, he had told Merlin he wouldn't go to battle without him. Arthur hadn't exactly promised, but if he left, he almost felt as if he would be betraying his manservant in a twisted sort of way. If he thought about it Merlin had brought this indifference of Arthur's wrath upon himself. Merlin had been acting odd that day, asking Arthur not to leave without him and he wondered if the dark haired, blue eyed servant had known of his fate before it came to be? It was not a good feeling and just confused his mind further.

Arthur leaves his room because really he shouldn't have wasted the whole day inside but it was too late now anyways. He heads towards the kitchen hoping to find a bite to eat. Food just doesn't taste the same when George brings it to him and not Merlin; for all he knows it's a mental block he's set up in his mind about nothing being as good without Merlin there but it's how he feels at the moment. The kitchens aren't empty and they aren't quiet either.

"My lord," a female cook bows lowly when she notices him hovering in the doorway and looks around awkwardly. All the rest of the kitchen staff seems to freeze in there place, waiting.

The blonde haired, blue eyed ruler can't remember the last time he's had to come to the kitchens on his own and it's an unusual feeling. He clears his throat, "As you were."

It's like a lantern is rejuvenated and everyone returns to the task at hand though still stealing stealthy glances at their king. The head cook inches closer and wonders, "Can I do something for you, my lord?"

"I was just in the mood for some pheasant pie."

She seems to let out a relieved sigh, as if she were afraid they were in trouble. Then she blusters, "Oh of course anything you want my lord, I'll make it special for you right now. Why didn't you send Merlin down to fetch it, you gave us a little bit of a fright. No problem at all I'll have it whipped up in just a minute don't you worry my lord."

He lets her prattle on, realizing that he doesn't know her name or anyone working in the kitchen for that matter. In fact the only servants he ever took notice of were Merlin and Gwen and for a moment he feels ashamed. He doesn't even know one third of the people that probably do things for him on a daily basis.

"Pheasant pie my lord, hot and fresh. I hope it's to your liking."

Arthur takes his plate and nearly bumps into Gwaine as he's exiting. The king is about to move his plate as if already preparing for attack from grubby fingers but surprisingly the knight just looks at him rather blankly.

"Gwaine I'm glad you've returned in one piece."

"Thank you, Sire."

Cocking his head Arthur wonders if that is the first time he has ever heard the other man address him with such a normal and respectful title.

"Yes well go get your supper and I will see you on the morrow so we can discuss the villages and our next plan of action."

"I look forward to it."

Arthur glances behind him once more as the other man enters the kitchen but then shrugs and makes his way to dine alone in his room with food of his own choosing.

It is late. Too late to go down to the dungeons but Arthur wants to see Merlin desperately. He wants an explanation now that he has had time to cool down, but he doesn't know if he'll believe it. Twisting and turning he can feel perspiration formulating on his temple and he kicks off his bed covering. Merlin has been with him since the beginning, almost seven years ago that scrawny gangly kid challenged him. He had no chance of beating the prince, though he didn't know Arthur's identity at the time. But even after learning about Arthur's place he still had the gall to defy him. And the prince had taken notice of that, respected it more than Merlin would ever know. He had always been royalty and had been treated as such. Even if he got a small cut or a scrape on the knee the servants would run around like chickens without their heads making sure there would be no infection or scar of any kind. It was a breath of fresh air that Merlin had spoken to him like he was just an ordinary boy; even confronted him in an ordinary sparring match. If Arthur was to be honest he hadn't exactly liked Merlin from the beginning but he had always respected him. After becoming the prince's manservant Arthur had been a little reluctant because first of all the boy wasn't all that competent and second he thought Merlin would fall into the pattern of all the other servants around him; like babying him, overprotecting him, being at his beck and call, or never challenging his authority, but Merlin hadn't turned out that way. He had been exactly what Arthur wanted and needed. The dark haired man would give his opinion when necessary and really listen when the prince was explaining a problem. They had an intense bond that couldn't be broken and later on it had turned into something a little bit more.

At least that was what he thought before he got the shock of his life. He had always been told and warned about how disastrous and atrocious magic was. It was evil and there was nothing more to be said. But now he speculated about the fact that maybe it wasn't so terribly evil after all. Everything that Merlin was, Arthur could never classify the servant as evil, so maybe magic didn't have to be evil either. Even though he was utterly confused on the magical front, something else was scratching at him. With so many thoughts running rampant through his mind, only one kept pushing itself to the forefront: heartbreak. He trusted Merlin, with so much more than a servant should know. But then Merlin was not just a servant anymore, he had become a friend. And that stung the worst.