Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Merlin twisted a ring around his fingers; his eyes skimmed across the landscape, hungry for the lush greenery of the forest edges, with laborers tending to the scars the battle left on the fields, to the bustle of the citizens in the marketplace as they haggled for a fair deal. If it wasn't for the still painfully obvious damage that the city still bore, from crumbled buildings and charred grounds to the people that still flooded the castle halls for aide, Merlin would be hard pressed to believe a battle as devastating as the one against Morgana had occurred weeks ago. It panged him to know much of the damage on the city he caused when he lost his grasp on control. The only comfort from the whole ordeal was the fact that the damaged buildings were the worst of the consequences.
He glanced down at the ring that glinted in the late afternoon sun; he couldn't help but be at awe at its presence. Carved into the silver he made out two figures. The first of which was the ever-familiar dragon, wings flared out and mouth spread wide in preparation to release its flames. Its body twisted upward, as if the dragon was rushing towards the sky; it curved along the side of the ring facing the direction opposite. Beside the beast, with swings spread wide, swooping below across from the dragon was a hawk; the beaks opened in mid-screech and talons spread. What made the hawk even more fascinating, however, were the intricate designs that curled, twisted, and radiated from the hawk. The tendrils twisted into a dance unique to the feathered animal, reaching to all sides of the sigil. It gave the bird a much larger presence and served to not only symbolize the power the bird of prey held but also accentuate that of the dragon.
The ring was a gift from both the King and Queen as a sign of peace and gratitude. It served as a way for Arthur to take the first steps towards peace with the magical community while also, on a more personal level, repaying but a small portion of his self-appointed debt. The warlock scoffed at the idea of the King being indebted to him, but speaking out against it only irritated Arthur. Though Merlin didn't want to receive gifts and praises, only acceptance, from his friends and family, he accepted the ring in the end. Not for payment but for its other value for one could not enter nobility without a seal to represent their name; as the newly appointed Court Sorcerer, Merlin had ascended the hierarchy, much like his friends before him, and further proved Arthur lack of care for a person's standing in society.
The ex-servant found it silly, gaining a position in nobility. Honestly, he could go without the title, continue as the manservant for the King; as long as Arthur granted him the freedom to deal with any crisis dealing with magic, he did not care how people treated him or what his job entitled him to do as a member of the royal household. Still he had a point and the warlock knew that for the people of Camelot to trust him, he must serve as an official advisor to the King. No one would follow the word of a servant.
His promotion happened the moment Gaius grudgingly deemed Merlin healthy enough to be able to leave his room, though many of the knights kept watch over the warlock to ensure he was as okay as he claimed to be. Arthur had warned them that Merlin's condition might not be as great as the warlock led them to believe, glossing over details to protect his privacy. He doubt Merlin would appreciate him for telling the knights of his break down.
Of course, Merlin had pushed for his release from his room. To him, it became a prison; he would rather help with the rebuilding of the city than lounge around in his room all day, especially after being barred from the sun for months. Many times during his bed rest, Arthur approached him for advice on how he should handle various situations that sprouted from the new acceptance of the magical community. One of which was the prisoners from Morgana's army.
The people were uneasy during those days the sorcerers were kept in the dungeons; past experiences led them to having hard time believing that Camelot was capable of detaining magic wielders. Many individuals who felt such insecurities chose to recognize the druids as allies, most of them soldiers protected by their enchantments; the rest grudgingly accepted their presence, more for keeping the enemy sorcerers under watch than acceptance of magic. Then there were those who surrendered and begged for peace, sorcerers who Morgana forced onto her side. They were guarded as well, in part to ensure they were not lying about their true loyalties but to also protect them from the people who would be more than happy to watch their blood spill on the streets.
Merlin recognized the difficulties Arthur faced in such a controversial topic. He told his King that he needed to judge them not by what Uther's law deemed but by their own actions and motivations. If they were genuine in their reluctance and hatred towards Morgana, then they were merely victims of war and thus should be treated as so. If they sought for blood, killed with glee and stood firm against Camelot forces, they should be judged and punished as a war criminal, though not necessarily executed.
Even with his advice, Arthur was uneasy with dealing with the sorcerers for he was unaccustomed with dealing with them outside of execution. Eventually, he called upon Merlin to participate in the talks during the early days of rebuilding. They had convened at the throne room, around a large round table that stood at the center of the room; Arthur finally decided to make the addition as a symbol of the changing times as he began his long, difficult effort to removing the anti-magic laws providing equality upon all citizens. Gwaine offered his help and together, with Gaius, the two carefully led Merlin to one of the seats, careful not to jar his still healing shoulders or reopen any wounds.
Seated at the table were Arthur, the Queen, his closest knights, and the council along with the druid leaders, Cyric, Orian, the newly appointed chieftain Briec. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, nervous over the glares the council men shot him, Aubrey stared wide eye at the people he had once stood opposite from on the battlefield. Together they sat, ready to discuss the fate of not only the captured sorcerers but also the fate of all in the magic community.
"Welcome friends," Arthur announced, as he stood tall before the gathering. He met the eyes of each person who lined the table and paused for a moment when he reached Merlin. The King held fire not like any the warlock had ever seen; it proved to him that Arthur truly wanted to try to change things for the better.
Merlin was the first to break away as he glanced down at his calloused hand. He managed to get a week worth of rest before Arthur called the meeting. While he was still battered and bruised, recovering from the trauma, Merlin was just as determined to be in these talks. Still, he could not help but shiver when the shadows of the room wavered, threatening to reach for him again. Tendrils made constant appearances and created an ominous cloud that hovered over Merlin like an executioner's axe; it's presence threatened to drag him into despair. He knew time would heal all wounds, he hoped that also extended to the wounds of his mind and his heart.
"Before we begin, I wish to make a request from all of you," Arthur continued, interrupting Merlin from his thoughts and causing him to lurch his eyes back to his King, "to keep what we discuss today amongst yourselves. Many of the topics are sensitive in nature. While I will like to believe the people of this kingdom will be understanding in the upcoming changes, you all must know that nothing can be quite that simple."
Once everyone around the table expressed their agreement, the King spoke again, "The first matter I want to go over is where we must go about with the sorcerers who aided Morgana. I recognize that quite a few of them are victims but unfortunately, people still fear them. I also cannot deny that it will be difficult to identify the true victims from the false."
"They should be executed for their crimes," cried out a lord, Heilbert, who had visited Camelot the same week that Morgana invaded. Much of his time, he spent hiding in his room, afraid of standing in the witch's way. "The law is there for a reason and there is no place in Camelot for the likes of magic!"
"Magic was not the cause of heartache but its wielder! Without our aid, our magic, you would not be here now speaking so freely," Orian argued, his tone held the impatience he held against the lord.
"Magic-" Heilbert began with a snarl, ready to fight tooth and nail. Arthur was about to step in, his anger on a low simmer as he tried to not allow the spiteful words affect him when someone else chose to interrupt the man.
"I'll hope that, after so much bloodshed, we could come together to finally find peace," Aubrey spoke up for the first time, his fingers tapped against the table and eyes shifted nervously around the table as the men turned to him. Arthur gave him a calculating look, trying to discern the man's loyalty. While he was grateful for his part in the battle, the King still could not let go of his suspicions of the man, more for the fact that he had led Morgana's legion of sorcerers. For her to appoint this man as command, the King would believe he was loyal only to her. It made no sense for Morgana to give power to a man that could turn his back to her.
"Many of the sorcerers were pulled from their homes and forced into service. While I cannot defend my actions by the same reason, I and all the others felt compelled to aid the witch against those who would see us dead."
"You expect us to trust you after admitting you willingly served Morgana," Heilbert snorted.
"Perhaps, but know that I was given an offer I did not fully understand. Had I known what Morgana planned…"
"That still does not change what you and the others have done!"
"I…" Aubrey trailed, his shoulders hunched and his head hanged from his shoulders in shame as he looked to his hands, which twiddled nervously.
"Trusting a man who dabbled in the arts of demons," the lord scoffed.
"Lord Heilbert, enough," Arthur intervened, after seeing if Aubrey would defend himself against the lord. This argument was getting them nowhere.
"But, Sire, you can't possibly trust these people! Anyone who wields magic is someone who allowed evil to taint their souls!"
"Do you trust me, Heilbert?"
"O-of course, Sire!"
"Then you must trust my judgment. Sorcery is not the issue, but more of what our actions are from this day forward. We meet together to discuss not the prejudice views of magic but how to judge Morgana's sorcerers fairly. Unless you have any suggestions outside your bigoted views, I suggest you remain quiet."
From where he sat, Merlin saw the tense face of Gwaine relax into a smug mug. The knight was probably close to drawing his blade and showing the lord who he must fear. It touched Merlin that his rogue friend supported him without hesitation, even if it was from an indirect insult. Tired as well of the argument that had already begun and the ones he suspected to continue, Merlin took the chance to speak.
"The answer is obvious, is it not?" Merlin spoke as loud as he could. His voice rasped out but recovered enough for them to understand. Few of the lords shifted uncomfortably, little choice but to listen to the servant turned warlock. "You all worry more about the magic they possess than the crimes they've committed. We need to treat them as we would for anyone else, give them a fair trial and punish them accordingly."
"And what would count as a fair trial amongst sorcerers," cried out another lord, his eyes, full of mistrust, shifted between each sorcerer, "with their blasted dark arts."
"Same way you would judge a knight compared to the common bandit. Both wield a sword doesn't mean you would execute the knight for his service."
"Emrys is correct," Cyric said, "each must be judged by their actions, whether willing or unwilling. Many of them seek redemption for their disservice to the crown."
"They are the one who you will alienate if execution is your only response," agreed Orian.
"So be it," Arthur said, his eyes meeting Merlin's a he gave a slight nod. "Tomorrow we will begin. I ask the druids to be present to ensure each sentence is fair "
"And if they lie and try to give their friends a lighter punishment?" Heilbert sneered, not wanting to miss the opportunity to argue.
"I'm sure figuring it out won't be difficult, then again that might be too much of a challenge for you. Don't worry your pretty little head, we won't need you to take care of it," Gwaine spat, unable to contain himself this time. Arthur's narrowed eyes prevented Heilbert from responding while his glare towards the knight only gave him a shrug and cheeky smirk. Beside Gwaine, Percival struggled to hide his own smile while Leon sighed with a small shake of his head.
Many of the lords, Heilbert included, grumbled while few others nodded in agreement along with the druids. With the decisions made, Arthur progressed through the conversation to the laws that surrounded the use of sorcery; he asked the people present how they may go about to reintegrating sorcery in the day-to-day lives of the people. Arguments were made and insults were thrown about as the lords who clutched at the followings of Uther stood their ground against change.
As time passed, Merlin steadily grew tired, his injuries ached throughout his body and his eyes drooped with fatigue. The corners of the room grew alive and the tendrils curled with excitement. They grew and stretched out across the floor, moving closer and closer to the warlock. Try as he might, Merlin could not ignore their presence. He paled when one such tendril reached his booted feet, its cool touch oozed through his boot and curled around his ankle. It climbed his leg, past his mid-section, and inched closer to his heart.
Already he could feel the cold sensation encase his lung and restrict his breathing as it stabbed at the center of his heart. Suddenly the room felt much too small, full of the shadow monsters that grew more and more distinct the more panicked the warlock felt. The shadow that latched onto him managed to compress his chest further, squeezing tight until each breath pained him as it dug further into his heart, the muscle gave a fluttering cry. Was that what Morgana felt when he allowed his magic to crush her, to strangle her? He couldn't even-
"Mate, you okay?" Gwaine whispered, interrupting the shadows growth with a small shake. The knight's hand held firmly to the servant's forearm as his concerned eyes scrutinized the servant's pale face and tense jaws. The meeting was clearly taking a toll on the young man and while Gwaine understood the necessity of the servant to attend, the knight knew he would rather not allow his friend's health to be affected by strain. He had already done much for the crown; Arthur could wait a bit longer for Merlin to get the rest he deserved.
"Sire," Gwaine turned to Arthur, interrupting another argument between said King and his councilmen.
"Yes, Sir Gwaine?"
"I wish to retire early from this meeting," the knight said his eyes glancing to the servant. Arthur followed his gaze and softened when he noticed the servant's condition.
"You may leave," Arthur allowed and watched for a moment as Gwaine stood at the table and helped Merlin unsteadily to his feet. The servant's eyes adopted a far off look as Gwaine escorted him gently from the room.
Outside the room, Merlin felt more than saw the concern looks the knight shot at his direction as the two made their way through the halls. While the knight was not sure what was going on in the mind of his friend, Merlin was grateful for the distraction the knight provided. Unknowingly, he had driven the shadows back into the corners of the room, away from Merlin for a moment.
"You didn't answer my question."
Merlin glanced at the knight and looked away, mumbling, "It's nothing."
"It didn't look like nothing."
Merlin rubbed his eyes with his right hand, mindful of his shoulders. "I'm just tired, that's all. Arthur is probably going to get an earful from Gaius on the necessities of bed rest for the injured." The corner of the servant's lips quirked into a smile; however, the strain that was still evident in the man's face prevented Gwaine from feeling at ease over his friend's condition. While the servant was well enough to make jokes, Gwaine wouldn't put it past him to hide his true feelings behind the mask they only just recently discovered.
Soon they arrived outside the physician's chambers. As the servant began to push into the room, Gwaine spoke up again, "Something's bothering you, my friend. I won't push you to tell me what but if you need an ear to talk to, you know where to find me."
"Yeah, dancing on the table in the tavern with a mug in your hand," Merlin snorted. His attempt to diffuse the serious attitude the knight adopted relatively worked. While it coaxed out a laugh and a friendly pat on the back, it did not stop the worry the knight still held in his eyes.
Merlin shook the memory away. It was the first time anyone had ever noticed the remnant effects of the armlet, though the knight did not know the details. Ever since that conversation, Gwaine took care to treat Merlin as he would normally. It was an effort the ex-servant appreciated, especially when his other well-meaning friends pestered him with apprehension. He did not fault them for their concerns, it was tiresome to have to constantly deal with being treated as though he was made of glass. Granted he did not give them reason to not worry…
"Merlin."
The Court Sorcerer looked to his side at the sudden appearance of the King of Camelot. His face as impassive as he too watched the ground below, his hands rested atop the wall as he leaned his body forward to watch. His chainmail glinted in the sunlight and clinked as he pushed off from the wall and looked to the warlock.
"Arthur…"
The King sighed as he went back to looking over the walls, his eyes focused on the courtyard below. "I'm sorry Merlin."
"I told you there was nothing to forgive."
Arthur shook his head, his lips downturned as he kept his eyes below, "No, not for that."
Merlin frowned and followed Arthur's line of sight until her discovered exactly what he meant. "W-what…?"
"I can't keep pretending. This is too much to ask of me, too much to ask of my people," Arthur gestured to the courtyard. At its center was a pyre, built with rope and timber they used for reconstruction. To Merlin's surprise, it was nearing completion.
How could he not notice it?
"I can't keep pretending that I'm willing to side with monsters," Arthur spat out the last word as if it was poison on his tongue. The venom in his tone echoed through Merlin's mind and rattled through his core. His hands clenched the stonework until his knuckles turned white and his breath caught in his throat. With eyes widened in horror, he watched as the pyre was completed and the guards led the first of the victim to each stage.
"Arthur, stop this," Merlin whispered, voice strained.
He stood still, frozen as the disgust settled on him, while the guards tied Alison to the stake and watched with panic as the torch descended onto the dry timber beneath the stage. The flames licked and caught onto the wood and climbed through the platform. Soon the sounds of cheering crescendoed above the young girl's pain filled screams as the people of Camelot celebrated another conquest over magic. Indistinguishable figures lined up on the side, the shadows fluctuated around them and tore into their flesh. Even from the distance, the warlock could make out the glimmer of metal shackles that wrapped the each miserable figure.
"Why? The only thing a sorcerer is good for is the flames," Arthur continued, his tone cold. He lifted his hand and gestured further past the first pyre towards another. "There's a spot there for you. It is time the purge the evils from your body."
"Stop!"
"Merlin?"
The warlock turned his body around and stared, eyes wide and pupils dilated in fear, towards Arthur who had just stepped outside. Beside him, the hallucination gave a wicked smile and laughed as the body deteriorated into small, grey particles, like dust in the wind, or ashes. It flew away into a flurry and winked out of existence. Below the screams ended with an abrupt silence as the pyres and its victims collapsed into a cloud of ashes that blanketed the courtyards and melted into the ground below.
"Hey," Arthur called, unsure of Merlin's state as the warlock trembled in fright. The King walked closer and placed a hand on his shoulders. Merlin flinched away from the touch, still unsettled by the most recent tricks his mind played on him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Merlin murmured as he reigned in his raging emotions.
"That's not nothing," Arthur gestured to the tight grip Merlin had on the wall and the trembles that wracked through his body; he didn't need to comment on the shout he heard when he arrived. "Don't lie, there isn't a need for you to hide anymore."
"It's nothing."
Arthur sighed, "Merlin, stop this. I'm not the only whose noticed that you've been off since Morgana."
The warlock released his hold of the wall and turned his palms to the sky. He traced the lines of his hands and callouses that covered his skin. "I'm sorry, Sire, but I-I don't want to talk about it."
"We are nearly done," Arthur changed the subject, unwilling to cause any more stress on his friend. "There are only a few more sorcerers left to deal with." They stood silently together on the battlements as Merlin thought of the implication of Arthur's words. He shook the fresh images of the pyres from his mind and focused on the reality. His time to prove himself to Camelot drew closer, an idea that terrified the young warlock.
"I don't believe I am ready."
"Neither am I," Arthur said with a small smile. He leaned against the battlement and watched the land below alongside his Court Sorcerer. "Imagine, me, the son of Uther Pendragon, allowing a division of sorcerers to serve the crown."
Merlin laughed, shaking off the fears and insecurities from minutes ago, "No more difficult to imagine a servant from a poor farming village leading said division. Are you sure about this?"
"Of course, there is no other sorcerer I can trust more than you," the King met the warlock's eyes, a smile still set in his face reflected in his eyes back to his friend, "never forget that."
"Thank you, Arthur."
They stood side-by-side and watched over the kingdom. Merlin did not know how long they stayed together but only knew when a servant approached the two, sending the Court Sorcerer nervous glances, as he delivered his message on the next trial. Dismissed, the servant scurried down the steps with Arthur following behind. However, the King stopped before the stairs and looked back once more to Merlin. His eyes held irritation and sorrow that left Merlin feeling confused and nervous for a short while before the King spoke.
"Never say that, Merlin. The only gratitude that should be given is to you." With that, Arthur left, leaving Merlin alone to his thoughts.
Merlin turned back to the view and lifted his palm to his face. Hand folded over, the warlock whispered an incantation into his clenched fist, and his eyes flared gold. Slowly, he opened his hand apart and revealed a small ball of flames that swirled around in his palm. Another flash of gold sent the fire skyward as a small dragon. It twisted through the air and swooped above the sorcerer releasing small spurts of fire. With one last circle around him, the dragon flew off into the sky and dissipated into the air.
It reminded him of when the dragons took their leave, under Merlin's direction. They spent a few days hiding in the woods, out of sight from the populace as they awaited news from the Dragonlord. When he was conscious enough to communicate, Merlin had reached out with his mind and called them closer to the castle to speak. Hovering above the clouds in the night sky, close enough for a strong mental connection, they listened as he asked them to leave. While the army welcomed their presence after taking the brunt of the chimeras, they all knew that they would raise panic among the people of Camelot. Even after years have gone by since the dragon's attack, they felt it best not to cause any undue tension during process to return to normality.
Still he missed them; their proximity provided him with a comfort that only creatures of magic could provide. They understood him better than anyone else did. The connection they shared as kin also made it difficult for Merlin to hide from them. Kilgharrah and Aithusa were the only ones who knew of the delusions he suffered and chose to remain quiet per his request. Neither wanted to stay silent, and in that night they spoke from across the city, they pushed the warlock to seek help. He denied the need for help and the dragons grudgingly accepted.
He straightened to his full height and turned on his heels, his back to the view. Striding to the stairs, Merlin knew he had spent enough time brooding at the battlements and far too long immersed in his thoughts. He had enough of the self-deprecating thoughts he had over his actions and overpowered magic. The Court Sorcerer knew that the last thing the kingdom needed was someone in an influential position campaigning bigoted ideals, even if it was against himself.
Still with the hallucinations that constantly haunted him, Merlin understood it would be difficult to detach such thoughts from his mind. He knew he must not pay them mind, learn to keep an eye for when they did appear. It would be difficult, realizing when a hallucination was affecting him, but Merlin knew it was necessary if he was to be of any use to Arthur. Moreover, it could give him the needed time to research the armlet and find a way to counteract the damage. He was confident he could figure it out, especially when he no longer needed to follow Arthur as his manservant.
His new title of Court Sorcerer, however, did give him new responsibilities. Plans were made to further not only his training in magic but also other magic users who had been afraid of their abilities. Not needing to hide his learning, Merlin had no worries over tackling his duties. Compared to mucking out the stables and polishing armor, he was more than excited to begin.
The new division was going to be composed of druids and sorcerers from Morgana's army who were found to be innocent. Of course, the sorcerers weren't forced into the group and many of them chose to return to their homes. Others who did not join simply found a different profession in the city, such as Alison who chose to apprentice herself to both Gaius and Merlin in medicine and magic. She claimed to have wanted the best education and was not deterred even when Merlin pointed out that he may not be the best teacher in healing enchantments. Merlin sighed as he thought of the girl, who apparently held a personality of a troublemaker buried beneath the shy exterior.
He descended the steps and ignored the way the shadows licked at his feet, hungry to consume whatever calm Merlin managed to scrounge up during his time on the battlements. The aftereffects of the bracelet haunted Merlin around every corner and during every minute and while he gained some control over the shadows, Merlin knew he was still a long way away from being fully free from their influence. Still, Merlin tackled and overcame every obstacle thrown at him, even the four months with Morgana. While he recognized it would be difficult, the hallucination was but another obstacle the defeat.
It was a new day for a new age, and Merlin was prepared to meet it with his usual stubborn personality. He did not have time to mope about, not when he finally took on his position as advisor and the name of Emrys and especially not when he was finally free. It was a long way to go but Merlin could not wait to see the day when magic was as commonplace in the city as it was in druidic villages.
Together, with the Once and Future King, Merlin Emrys knew there was nothing that could stop them.
AN: Wow, I mean just wow. I can't believe I finished this or how big this thing grew. When I first started out, I struggled just writing that first chapter of what should have been an eight chapter long fic! I remember thinking that I could do this and finish before my final exams, but boy was I wrong xD Didn't think I could write seventeen chapters or that I would end up writing chapters that were more than doubled the size of that first one o,O
You guys are amazing really, not just for taking this adventure with me but for motivating me and inspiring ideas all the way through. I doubt I would have been motivated enough to write this as fast as I did (I probably would still be writing bits and pieces like I was before). Thank you everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted, you guys are awesome.
I do in fact want to continue with this story and if I had the choice, I would have just kept adding more chapters. However, Loyal focused on a central theme, loyalty, and if I were to further add chapters to this, the story would devolve away from that theme into another. It may not be as different of a theme, but I still don't want to change the focus of story; Loyal has a definitive ending, which I refuse to change.
So there will probably be a sequel, I just need time to further develop the plot and flesh out ideas so that it won't just meander around post-Loyal. I want to give it its own plot and its own conflict. For now, I'll fix the mistakes in Loyal such as grammar, spelling, and sentence flow and take a small break from writing overall. I have some ideas I want to explore but I'll see if it'll be interesting enough to pursue. Once I have the sequel organized and plot/conflict fully fleshed out, I'll begin writing. I'll post an excerpt (or prologue really) of the sequel as an epilogue on Loyal with the summary and day I'll begin posting to keep anyone interested informed ^^
Thank you all again for your kind words, I'll continue responding to all reviews when I find the time ^^
As always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!