Chapter XIV: Tales of Carmarthen

"…and then he thanked me and went into the citadel," Merlin finished.

Lancelot and Gaius were silent. The latter still looked as though he'd been hit in the face with something heavy. The former seemed torn between happiness for Merlin's sake and concern for Gaius. Concern won out, though, and he said, "That's wonderful, Merlin. It sounds like Arthur is actually making progress. But, Gaius, are you all right?"

That got the physician out of his stupor. "Yes," he said, a bit sheepish, "but…. Merlin, you say that Arthur was dying when you killed Aulfric? Then, after you had killed him, Arthur lived?"

"Yes."

"And you felt a sort of pulling sensation?"

"Yeah." Merlin nodded. "It was really rather weird. I was looking at Arthur and I knew he was beyond healing magic's help. Then Aulfric disintegrated and suddenly I could save Arthur. Do you know what happened?"

"I think so," Gaius said softly, "but…." The physician shook his head. "It shouldn't have been possible."

"What did he do?" Lancelot asked.

"It sounds as though Merlin mirrored life and death without the aid of words or artifacts." Gaius was still shaking his head.

Lancelot glanced helplessly at Merlin, who shrugged. He didn't know what mirroring life and death was either.

Gaius noticed their confusion. "Great works of magic require balance. To save a life, another life must be taken. This is called mirroring life and death, and it is an incredibly difficult spell that even the most powerful and skilled of sorcerers have difficulty with. That you could do it without any training or spells—if you had had, say, the Cup of Life, things would be different, but you didn't have anything like that. And you're so young! It's simply unheard of."

"Oh" was all Merlin could think to say.

"So it's really no surprise that you lost consciousness. Between the attack last night and all the powerful magic you've been expending, you would have been exhausted." He frowned. "In fact, I would bet that you still are exhausted."

"Not really," Merlin confessed. "I spent most of the day sleeping, not running around the forest like I told the other guards."

"You aren't tired?" Gaius repeated.

"Well, not very." Which was an exaggeration of 'barely at all.' But Gaius looked stunned enough without knowing how quickly Merlin had recovered, and to be honest, that speedy recovery frightened Merlin, too. So did the powerful magic. Unheard of, Gaius had called it, and just thinking of those words sent a shiver down his spine.

"So what happened after I ran out?" he asked, not wanting to focus on how abnormally powerful he appeared to be.

"Apparently, Sophia had stolen some of Lady Morgana's jewels," Gaius said.

"What?" Merlin's brow furrowed. "But that makes no sense. They were here to kidnap and kill Arthur, not rob Morgana."

"The king believes that they were planning on staying longer than they did. They would have stolen various items around the castle, then absconded with Arthur and the wealth, but Lady Morgana's investigation made them nervous and they fled prematurely," Lancelot explained. "Do Sidhe use jewels in Avalon?"

"I didn't even know what Sidhe were until a couple days ago," Merlin replied. He looked at Gaius, who shrugged.

"Perhaps it was a backup plan," the physician suggested. "Or perhaps Uther is correct, and Sidhe do use rubies. Otherwise, the theft makes very little sense."

"I suspect we'll never know, then," Merlin sighed. "Not with Sophia and Aulfric dead."

Gaius nodded.

"So what else happened?" Merlin asked.

"Nothing much," Lancelot assured him. "From what I understand, it was mostly various people running about searching for Arthur." But there was something in his voice that made Merlin disbelieve him. The warlock turned a questioning stare on his mentor.

Gaius sighed. "He will find out eventually, Lancelot," the physician said gently.

"Find out what?" Merlin asked, fear prickling at his insides.

Lancelot raked his fingers through his hair. "I failed in my duty. No, don't say anything, Merlin. I was tasked to protect the prince and I failed miserably. The king is… displeased with me."

A rush of anger washed away Merlin's fear. "You were one man against two sorcerers of unknown ability. How could he blame you for that? How could you blame yourself for that? Because I know that face. That's the face of self-recrimination."

"Because I did fail," Lancelot answered. "No, Merlin, I truly did. Magic or not, I failed to protect Arthur Pendragon, and he nearly died because of it. If you hadn't saved him, he would be dead and there would be war."

"War?" Merlin asked blankly.

"War," Lancelot confirmed. "Arthur is Uther's only son and heir. Constans and Aurelius both died without issue. If Arthur died, Cenred of Essetir would be the heir apparent, and do you truly believe that Camelot would bow to him? Not to mention that old King Loth in the Orkneys would take advantage of the confusion to get his old kingdom back."

"I hadn't thought about it that way," Merlin confessed. He had known, of course, that Arthur and Cenred were second cousins, that Cenred was only a king because Uther had led a coup to replace Loth with Cenred's father, but he had never considered the implications of that kinship. "But you're right. People might even suspect Cenred of sending Sophia and Aulfric to kill Arthur. Everyone knows he killed his father and brother."

"Yes," murmured Gaius. "I remember how furious Uther was when he received word that Andras and Cadfael were dead. The only reason he didn't start another war with Essetir was that he had no proof Cenred had murdered them. It took many long years before they achieved peace."

"One more reason to keep Arthur alive, then," Merlin muttered. Cenred was bad enough on the throne of Essetir. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he got his hands on one of the richest and most powerful kingdoms in Albion.

"Yes, it is," Lancelot agreed, "and that's why my failure is unforgiveable."

"'Unforgiveable' is a bit much, don't you think?"

"No."

"Um, yes, it is."

The two young men could probably have continued in that vein all night, but Gaius forestalled them. "There's no way that either of you is going to yield, so perhaps you, Merlin, should go to bed, and you, Lancelot, should get ready to patrol the castle."

Merlin pulled up short, indignant on his friend's behalf. "They're making you patrol again twenty-four hours after you were attacked with magic and nearly killed?"

"Well, yes," Lancelot replied. "I really only have bruises and a sort of lingering soreness. It's really not bad enough to keep me from doing my job."

Merlin snorted. "You realize that Sullivan is only making you do this because he hates you, right?"

"I know that, Merlin. I also know that I can't put another toe out of line while the king is still angry with me, or I'll be on the night shift for the rest of my life." A bitter smile. "Assuming I'm not already."

"But that isn't fair," Merlin protested. "No, Lancelot, it isn't. You were the only man doing his job and trying to protect Arthur, and Sophia had to almost kill you before she could get to him."

"Fair or not, it's a distinct possibility," the guard sighed. "And that's why I need to leave soon. It's almost time for my shift."

Merlin scowled.

Gaius decided to forestall any more arguing. "Aren't you tired, Merlin?"

"Not really. Getting frustrated with Lancelot is really quite invigorating."

Lancelot opened his mouth, but Gaius, in a very transparent attempt to change the subject and prevent strife, asked, "Did you truly not realize that Cenred could inherit Camelot?"

Merlin thought about pursuing his argument but quickly realized that it wasn't worth it. Gaius would just interrupt until they agreed to disagree. Maybe if he could talk to Lancelot alone, then he could convince him that he was completely guiltless. Sophia and Aulfric were at fault, not Lancelot, the only other person who had tried to stop them.

Or maybe not. Lancelot could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be.

So the warlock chose to humor his mentor. "I hadn't really thought about it that way, no. I knew that Uther put Andras on the throne because they were cousins, though."

"Because they were cousins, yes," Gaius confirmed, "and because of Vortigern."

Merlin winced.

The warlock's reaction did not go unnoticed. The physician and the guardsman stared at him in befuddlement for a few moments before the light dawned in Gaius's eyes. "Oh, Merlin, please tell me it isn't you in that tale."

Merlin grinned sheepishly.

Lancelot's eyes went wide. "The little boy in the story, that was you?"

"Yes," Merlin sighed. "But a lot of the tale has gotten messed up over the years."

Lancelot glanced out the window. "If it's quick, I have time to hear the story now. If you wanted to tell it, that is." He seemed to have forgotten about his self-recrimination.

"No, I can tell." The warlock sank into his chair, eyes going distant as he remembered what had probably been the most traumatic experience of his childhood.

"Vortigern went into hiding after Uther won back Camelot. Then the Purge came and Vortigern started slithering around, trying to gather support for his claim to Camelot's throne. He eventually gained enough followers that King Loth had to negotiate with him or risk another civil war in Camelot that would probably embroil Essetir, too. So Loth gave him a little city on Mount Snowdon, a place called Carmarthen, and Vortigern became one of his lords. Uther wasn't happy, but Loth assured him that Carmarthen was enough to keep Vortigern busy and that he'd agreed to give up his claim in return for his life."

Merlin smiled. "But I didn't know that at the time. I was just a little boy and didn't really know a thing about politics. All I knew was that Carmarthen was a big, exciting city—at least to a country boy from Ealdor—and I was so excited that Mother was taking me there. Someone in the village always went to Carmarthen to get winter supplies and pay the village's taxes. Mother's turn came when I was six, almost seven. I remember being very proud of myself because Mother told me that I was a big enough boy to go with her. Now, of course, I know that she just couldn't risk leaving me behind with people who didn't know about my magic, but like I said, I was just six at the time.

"So we went to Carmarthen. I played with some of the servant boys while Mother went to give Vortigern the taxes from Ealdor. Somehow—I don't recall exactly how—it got out that I was a bastard, and the other boys started mocking me about how I was a fatherless country hick.

"That was when one of Vortigern's advisors came out. He overheard the other boys and went back to his master. A few minutes later, he came back with two guards. They dragged me before Vortigern.

"Vortigern had been trying to build another castle atop Mount Snowdon. His current seat was old and run-down and couldn't really defend against a concentrated assault from Camelot, so he wanted—needed—a proper fort on the mountaintop. But the castle he was trying to build kept collapsing. His advisors, a bunch of Saxon quacks, told him that he needed to sacrifice a fatherless child and bathe the foundation stones in blood if he wanted the fort to stand. If he did that, they said, the fortress would be impregnable."

Lancelot scowled. "And he intended to do that to you."

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. I think that it had something to do with me being from the countryside. There were bastards aplenty in Carmarthen, but they usually had mothers or siblings or someone looking out for them. That, or they were grown, and those stupid fakes said the victim had to be a child. The people of Carmarthen already resented him for drawing Uther's attention to their city. I think that Vortigern was worried about starting a riot. I was from the country, though, so it would be a lot easier to make me and maybe even Mother disappear."

"That's awful," Gaius interjected. "Yet it is the sort of reasoning Vortigern would follow."

"Did you ever know him, Gaius?" Lancelot asked.

"Fortunately I did not. I was part of the group that escaped to Armorica with Uther and Aurelius. But I served them both as a battlefield medic, and I overheard enough war councils to learn how Vortigern thought. Eventually Aurelius started asking what I thought Vortigern would do in such and such a situation. After his brother died, Uther kept up the habit."

"So you think I'm right?" Merlin asked. "Because the bit about the riot is just my speculation. I couldn't exactly ask him why he chose a country bastard instead of one from the city."

"I think that you're right," Gaius said. "It certainly fits with what I know of Vortigern's reasoning."

"What happened after Vortigern took you?" Lancelot asked.

That was right, he had to leave for his shift soon. Merlin returned to his tale.

"He asked about my mother, but I didn't say anything. I'm just glad that he wasn't very smart, or he'd have made the connection between me and the peasant woman who had just given him her village's taxes." The warlock paused, frowned. "On second thought, I'm not glad he was stupid. If he'd been smarter, he'd never have listened to those Saxons.

"But anyways, he asked me about my mother and I kept silent, so he asked me if I knew why I was there. I didn't, of course, so I just stayed silent and kind of glared at him, which I somehow doubt was very intimidating. I was trying to figure out if I could use magic to escape and how much trouble I'd be in when Mother found out about it. I was also trying to be as insolent as possible."

Both his listeners cracked a grin at that.

"Then Vortigern got this awful, ugly smile. He leaned over and told me that his men were going to kill me so he could raise a castle, and he was only asking about my mother so that we could say our goodbyes before he murdered me."

Gaius went white. Lancelot's eyes widened until they nearly fell out of his head.

"What happened next…. I've never been good at looking into the future. Apparently I spout gibberish prophesies when I'm drunk, but I'm no seer. I used to be a bit better. As a child, I could apparently predict the weather, and once I warned Mother about a rabid bear. But Carmarthen was the last time I predicted anything of substance.

"I can't remember exactly what I said to Vortigern. There was definitely something about how his so-called advisors were using him. There was also a bit about how Uther would soon come for him and take revenge for his father and brothers. But there was also something about the castle. I told him that he didn't need the blood of a fatherless child to make his foundations stand. His false friends were lying to him. Instead, he should dig twenty feet below the cornerstone. If he did that, he would find an underground grotto with two wyverns in it, one red and one white."

"Wyverns?" Lancelot interrupted. "I thought they were dragons?"

Merlin shook his head. "The storytellers exaggerated. They thought that dragons sounded more impressive. But they were just two wyverns, red and white, and they were the ones who kept destroying the castle.

"I guess Vortigern had been feeling suspicious for a while, because he actually ordered his men to dig a pit. They did, and they found the two wyverns there. They were fighting. The red one was about twice the white one's size. It was old and clever, but the white one was young and quick and strong.

"I told Vortigern that he was the white wyvern and the Pendragons were the red. He was glad of that, I remember. At the time I said that, the white wyvern looked like it was winning. It had wounded the red one and even tore off one of its legs. Then the red one rallied. It killed the white, then retreated deeper into the cavern to lick its wounds. Vortigern sent men after it, but the red wyvern was never seen again."

"I suspect it's gone to the Perilous Lands," Gaius speculated. Lancelot shushed him.

"After that, Vortigern decided not to sacrifice me. He had this idea that I could make him into the greatest king there ever was and that he would name his new keep Dinas Emrys in my honor."

Had Merlin been looking at Gaius, he would have seen the old man jerk as though stung. He would have seen his blue eyes go wide, his jaw sag ever so slightly. But Merlin was paying more attention to the window and the time than to his mentor, and he didn't notice.

Merlin continued, "He proclaimed me his new right hand and had all his Saxon quacks put to death. I knew he'd do the same to me if I stopped being useful to him, so I spent the next couple of days spouting prophetic-sounding nonsense about pigs and many-horned mutant animals and whatnot. Vortigern's scribe wrote it all down, so my ramblings are probably still there somewhere.

"Mother knew right away what had happened to me, and she didn't waste time planning a rescue. Remember how Vortigern was worried about a riot?"

Lancelot's eyes went huge. "She didn't."

Merlin grinned. "She did."

"So that's where you get your ability to cause trouble," Gaius said. Merlin glared. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You just told me that Hunith started a riot to save you."

"It wasn't causing trouble. It was a very well-intentioned riot."

Gaius's eyebrow ascended past his hairline.

"…okay, maybe it was troublesome. But only for Vortigern, and he deserved it."

"I would like to meet her someday," Lancelot muttered. "Not everyone would start a riot to save her son."

"You'd like her," Merlin assured him, "and I think she'd like you too. Maybe I'll introduce you one day."

"One day," Gaius agreed. "But I don't think Lancelot has much free time left, Merlin."

"Oh, that's right. Sorry." Merlin returned to the story. "So Mother's riot went right up to the castle. Like I'd said earlier, it was old and rundown and not particularly defensible. The guardsmen put up a token resistance, but soon the city dwellers had broken in and Mother snuck off to find me. She did, obviously, and we fled the city that very day.

"A few weeks later, news reached Ealdor that Uther had heard about the debacle in Carmarthen. People were saying that he wouldn't tolerate an alliance between Vortigern and a sorcerer, so he was going to invade in the spring. Loth, of course, tried to stop that, and the rest is history. Uther put Andras on the throne and Loth had to flee to the Orkneys, where he waits even now to reclaim his kingdom. Uther and Andras sent men to find Vortigern's sorcerer, and eventually they found a boy who looked enough like me that…. Well. The other boy died in my place." He shivered. It was only with a conscious effort that he made his last words relatively cheerful. "And the rest is history. The end."

Lancelot shook his head. "That's incredible."

"It is," Gaius agreed.

"That poor boy, though."

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "Him and his mother as well."

Lancelot shuddered.

"But Arthur's going to put an end to that," Merlin whispered. "He has to."

"He will, Merlin," Lancelot vowed. "I know that you can persuade him."

"How?"

Lancelot didn't answer right away. When he spoke, his voice was measured, even, somber. "Keep doing what you're doing with the light. Don't let him forget that there's a warlock looking out for him. Teach him to question his father and his father's hate. Remind him of the druids and all the other peaceful folk with magic. And above all, never give up."

"I won't."

Lancelot smiled. "I know."

Gaius didn't need the candle, not really. He had lived in these quarters for over twenty years. He knew about the hidden nooks in the wall, about the spider web that just kept coming back, which floorboards were squeaky and which were steady. But he took a candle anyways on his short trip into Merlin's room.

The boy was fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady. The candle's dim light cast long shadows across his features, making them sharper, more pronounced. But there was still a hint of softness in that elfin face, a trace of boyishness and mischief and innocence. Looking at him now, Gaius could see very little of the powerful warlock he truly was. It was hard to imagine that Merlin had any power whatsoever, much less that he was Emrys himself.

Emrys. Just thinking the name invoked a cacophony of emotions, fear and hope and joy and loss and sorrow and awe and a million others.

It was a bit embarrassing, really, now that he knew. The dragon had told Merlin that he was destined to protect a future king who would one day bring magic back into the land. Merlin was a powerful warlock, more powerful than anyone Gaius had ever met. Of course he was Emrys. What else could he be?

But it was difficult to see a figure out of legend in the grinning boy so full of quick comebacks, brave to the point of foolishness, a servant responsible for mucking stables. What little Gaius knew about Emrys—and he was the first to admit that he didn't know much at all—had made him think that the warlock was strength and wisdom made manifest. Gaius had pictured an elderly man, still hale despite his years, with eyes like deep water and a long white beard. He hadn't thought of a boy.

But all old men were boys once. Even Emrys had to start out somewhere.

That preconception was only part of the reason that Gaius hadn't immediately realized his ward's place in prophecy. He'd never really studied the Albion Cycle, preferring medical texts and more practical, immediately useful knowledge. Prophecy was for druids and Vates and seers, not for a physician like him. He knew only the basics and had always assumed he would never live to see the predictions fulfilled. Decades later, he could remember little more than a handful of names.

Emrys, the most powerful warlock in the world, guide and guardian to the Once and Future King who would save magic at its darkest hour. Merlin and Arthur, and wasn't it strange to think that he had delivered both of them? He'd brought two legends into the world, an odd and overwhelming thought.

There were others, he knew, something about a brotherhood of warriors and a controversial queen, but the only other thing he could recall were a few virtues, cryptic references to the various characters. Strength, Skill, Resilience…. What were the others? Courage was one, he thought, and Wisdom and Justice and Grace. Honor and Restraint, Cunning and Quickness, Knowledge and Insight. There were others, too, he knew, but these were all he could remember.

Who were they? He probably already knew some of them, would meet others in the future.

But that was in the future. He was old and tired with a warm bed awaiting him, and he didn't want to tell Merlin what he had discovered without more information. He needed to sneak into the hidden library for research before he told his ward about the prophecies. So he pinched out the candle, whispered, "Good night, Merlin Emrys," and went off to fall asleep.

The point of this chapter is to provide backstory and to at least TRY to reconcile the myths and the show. The next three paragraphs are myth notes.

Merlin's story comes to us from Geoffrey of Monmouth, who told it in his History of the Kings of Britain. I've altered a few details-Hunith is neither a princess nor a nun, the dragons were really wyverns and they didn't represent the Celts and Saxons, and the Prophecies of Merlin didn't occur until after Vortigern's men dug the hole. "What prophecies?" you ask. The Prophecies of Merlin, a rambling, cryptic rant about the future of the world. In my fic, they're the nonsense Merlin babbled out when he was trying not to die. Vortigern only thought they were real prophecies.

In legend, Uther was the youngest son of Constantine. Vortigern killed Constantine and Constans, his eldest, before taking over the kingdom. Uther and his brother Aurelius (and Gaius!) fled to Armorica, where they grew up, gathered an army, and prepared to reclaim their kingdom. Aurelius was supposed to be king, but he died (poison, or battle, or poison that weakened him before the battle and contributed to his death) and Uther took the throne.

Loth and Lot are unambiguously identified as kings of the Orkney Islands. However, in the show, Lot takes over Essetir after Cenred's death. This is my attempt to explain why: Lot's dad Loth was the original king, and he reclaimed the throne after the usurper's death.

Next up: Dec. 18. Arthur and Morgana want more information on magic.

Alternate chapter title: "Wherein Merlin Relates a Tale Explaining Why Hunith is Pretty Much the Best Mom Ever"

-Antares