Hi guys so my orignal goal was to have this second part out by xmas...you can see how that went. Sadly you will just have to be satisfied that it got out nearish new years? he he. Honestly not sure how I feel about this one-was super hard to write. hopefully it is not equally hard to read.
As always drop me a comment and let me know what you thought! enjoy ;)
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Chapter 14: Part 2: Little Boy Blue
With both Henry and his sister by his side, Arthur couldn't help but be both curious and thankful that whatever caused one to fall victim to this latest curse against Camelot, had passed over both of his companions.
He hastily squashed the Uther ingrained response to regard either of the individuals, carefully picking their way across the citadel's outer sanctum (carefully avoiding tripping over any of the slumbering guard or servants fallen in their path), with suspicion. It was a stupid thing to get hung up over—especially with everything that was going on at the moment—but he couldn't help but question the likeliness of their combined story (after all, since when did Morgana go for random walks in the forest? Even if it was too calm herself from her nightmares—something that Arthur knew that she usually relied on hot baths and incents for….).
That and the fact that both were quite visibly unaffected by the somnolent effects most of the kingdom had fallen under—true, he himself was still awake and thus could be said to be in the same boat, but despite having yet to succumb, he was starting to feel more and more drowsy….something that he was fighting with every cell of his being—but both Henry and Morgana didn't show an ounce of fatigue.
They were either far better at hiding the gradual affects of the curse then he was….or they simply weren't being affected at all. Which raised the question of why that was?
He knew that his thoughts were overly paranoid and a bit ridiculous even (the blame of which he laid at Uther's feet-his mantra of odd=conspiracy, most likely involving magic, was not a singular event in Arthur's childhood after all) and so was doing his best to distract himself from it.
It did help that Henry was now walking in front of him—thus providing an alluring enough sight to distract Arthur's poisonous thoughts for the time being.
That lead to him thinking about things that once again, he really should not be thinking about given their current circumstance….though it was much easier to know that he shouldn't, then to actually stop doing so. He knew that he had once again majorly fucked up with Henry—the bar brawl had been yet another display of horrendously executed decision making.
Arthur knew that he had been way out of line—both in his actions and words. He had, after all, given up all right in commenting on Harry's extracurricular activities outside the vague interest a prince might take in one of his subjects. He certainly didn't have the right to act like a possessive lover any longer….and logically he knew this.
Yet he hadn't been able to stop his jealously and possessive nature from flaring up at the sight of Gwaine flirting and touching the apprentice. His own regret and guilt over his previous decision in regards to Henry, coupled with his alcohol lowered inhibitions, had caused him to completely ignore the line of propriety and lash out.
It hadn't even taken until the morning after to realize the error in his judgment and left him feeling distinctly the fool. It was just yet another thing in an alarmingly fast growing list of mistakes that he needed to apologize and make up for to Henry. He was starting to despair ever being able to do so.
So no, despite the slight innate suspicion Morgana and Henry's story or state of health were giving him, he was not about to further bolic up his chances at redemption with Henry at voicing such thoughts. Even he wasn't that much of an idiot.
As they moved further and further into the cursed castle center Arthur found himself fighting harder and hard to just keep moving forward. Each consequent step felt as though an extra weight was added to his already straining shoulders….it felt a lot like wading through quicksand without an anchor to pull you free.
He felt his lethargic body pitch forward and knew that there was nothing he could do to prevent the expected impact; even if he had been in the presence of mind to try….his limbs were just too heavy and slow to react. It was in some strange form of déjà-vu that had this gravity influenced descent interrupted by a pair of small but strong hands.
His thoughts hadn't even caught onto the fact that he was no longer falling before they ground to a halt, caught in the concerned green gaze of his savior.
Had his tired mind not been struggling so against the curse, he might have had the brief flash of thought that the strong pull between them was in fact rather cliché: but he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to think anything outside of want and need as he looked down into Henry's eyes. The impossible need to move closer to the other and touch….no, combine—crawl inside the other's skin; to meld their very souls into a single cohesive unit was unbearable. So strong that it even made him momentarily forget about his bone crushing tiredness.
And he knew from the look in the return gaze, that he was not the only one caught up in this sudden compulsion.
"Henry…." He vaguely recognized the plea slip from his lips as the smaller of the two s face angled up towards his own. He couldn't even say exactly what it was that he was asking for-but it seemed he did not need to as he felt Henry's body move corresponding to his own unvoiced question.
It was like all of the mistakes and misunderstandings, all of the danger and road blocks that stood before them, had suddenly crumbled. They no longer mattered in this moment….all that mattered was….
"Arthur! Thank god you're back!"
And then it was gone.
Arthur wanted to snarl in fury at his manservant's unintentional sabotage—Merlin's relieved exclamation breaking whatever strange trance the two men had been under causing Henry to drop his hold and scuttle back as though burnt. His pale cheeks flushed red (in embarrassment or something else, he did not know) as the servant hastily put distance between them….Arthur was only able to blink slowly, trying to clear the fuzziness in his head, but still aware enough to feel a profound feeling of disappointment and loss.
Shaking his head in a vain effort to push his confused feelings away, (because they made no sense….nothing about this made sense!) he drew what little energy he had left and forcibly straightened his spine and shoulders turning towards the direction of Merlin's cry. "Merlin" the greeting sounded short to his ears—but this was his normal way of interacting with his manservant so it drew no suspicion.
"I think I might have found something!" Merlin's hopeful tone made the heaviness in Arthur's chest lift slightly.
At the sudden increased attention he was receiving Merlin hastily ventured forward in his explanation, "before Gaius fell….your father had tasked him to figure out what was wrong or at the very least find some way to reverse it….I think, I think I might have done so…."
The hope in Arthur's chest swelled, though a side part of his mind frowned when he briefly noted Morgana's expression going from one of interest to alarmed worry. He pushed his observations aside for the moment, intent on hearing Merlin out.
If the manservant had found a way to reverse whatever this was…..well he swore he would treat him better. Perhaps he wouldn't make him re-polish all of his armor next week just for kicks….
"I was reading through the text he had on him when he fell…and I found a description of a curse that fits. It causes massive unconsciousness within a certain circumference…"
"How is that circumference determined?" the quiet yet insistent question caused Arthur to startle having momentarily forgotten about the, until now, silent apprentice. And how was that possible? To go from being so consumed by his presence one moment to forgetting the fact that he was there just minutes later?—he could only attribute it to the curse messing with his head.
Morgana shifted nervously "Why does that matter? And how for that matter do you expect us to just trust whatever solution you found?—especially when it comes from some old book? What kind of book would even talk about something like this? A curse?" she interrupted her tone demanding and oddly enough; frightened.
Arthur watched as Henry's gaze shot towards her holding a varying degree of confusion and warning in it. And again the previous paranoia flared inside him….
Merlin either did not hear his sister's question or ignored it choosing to answer Henry's previous question instead. "The spell range is determined by whatever is acting as it's anchor….the spell is powered by something cursed….." he seemed to hesitate with his next words before taking a deep breath and pushing forwards, "…usually it is someone not something, which acts as the grounding center of the curse"
Arthur wasn't the only one who gasped a surprised intake of breath at Merlin's revelation.
"Someone?" Henry asked again, his voice carefully blank and emotionless.
Merlin nodded his head yes taking another deep breath before proceeding to explain, "Yes, the book said that while it will work with an inanimate object, that too be truly powerful—powerful enough to result in the kind of effect we are seeing right now—that the grounder should be alive….the more soul or living presence present, the stronger the effect. Hence I do not think it is some random animal…." He paused again letting the seriousness and unspoken accusation in his information sink in for a moment before continuing one more, "….I should also mention that it may be a combination of cursed object and willing beacon….in fact the book states that this is the best method for long range casting."
Consequence and understanding warred with each other in Arthur's brain as it sluggishly churned to make sense of what Merlin was telling them. Essentially whatever was attacking Camelot was indeed a curse—malignant magic—and that it was most likely in effect because someone within Camelot's walls was allowing it to be. Someone within Camelot was a magic wielder and a traitor.
And they were four of very few left still awake enough to continue powering the curse.
He didn't know what to do….what to say. Essentially he had the most likely traitor in front of him at this moment….he found his gaze flickering uneasily between his three 'friends.'
But before any of them could further comment (or accuse) the straining silence between them was once more broken by a frantic cry. Arthur's attention zoned to the knight dragging himself towards him—it was one of the few remaining knights he had left to stand guard over his father's inert form.
At the sight of the man, he felt another swell of relief; he had almost forgotten that there were still others awake….others who could be responsible for the curse….it meant that the three in front of him may be just as innocent as he….
A second later that relief turned to dread, as he recalled that he had left the magic hating, unconscious king, with the alternative suspects. "What is it? Why are you not guarding the king?" he didn't bother to try and hide the suspicion in his words.
"I…I apologize your hi…ghness…I…w..as. But had to warn you….riders…approaching the front gates….armed" the man's gasped, slowing speech spilled from him. The effort saying the words obvious. And just like that, the moment the man finished his warning, he stumbled and fell—his body becoming lax with sleep.
But his words remained, and they effectively pushed all previous suspicion and worry from Arthur's own tired brain as a new and even greater threat to Camelot and its inhabitants presented itself. They were under attack.
They were under attack and they were the only ones left still able to defend the city….
Camelot was doomed.
-0-
Harry huddled, using his own body to help keep Arthur somewhat vertical….though he knew it was a losing battle. No more than two hours could have passed since their group realized that not only was most of Camelot falling to the curse, but that it would be falling to invading riders rather shortly if a miracle did not occur soon.
The miracle had yet to appear.
Where Harry had once been heavily suspicious of Morgana's involvement in the events currently unfolding—he was now almost 100% certain of it. From the barely hidden concern she had shown when Merlin first said he knew what was going on, to her continued efforts at stalling them from finding any kind of solution…..there was really only one reason that made sense.
Morgana was involved—and as things went from bad to worse, Harry had the feeling that she was involved in a rather large way; more than even the original castor was. He was almost certain that Morgana Pendragon was acting as the spells anchor.
The very thought made his stomach churn with anxiety...because what Merlin had failed to express was just how the spell could be broken (something that Harry had managed to ask his brother while they as a group, moved the king's unconscious form to a more secure spot and tried to come up with a game plan to defend Camelot from the ghost like riders cantering through her).
The answer he had finally given did not help ease Harry's anxiety. To break a curse such as this one; either the original castor had to do so or the castor's anchor had to be destroyed. And considering that Harry had no idea who the original castor was but did know (ok, suspect) who the anchor was, well…..
And if the contemplation of murdering a dear friend wasn't enough to give him a killer migraine then the increasingly lethargic prince would be. At this point Arthur was barely functioning—his speech was strained, his steps slow and heavy, and his eyes half mast…things were not looking good.
If it had been completely up to him, Harry might have considered just letting the invading army just take and rid Camelot of its problematic King (definitely his other half talking there), but the problem was that he did not know what the riders wanted.
(Ok, so he could sort of guess…but his guesses weren't all that reassuring)
If he could be sure that the rest of Camelot—the servants, the peasants, hell….even the knights and ladies didn't suffer then he might have let his darker desires to see Uther dethroned play out but…..
Ok, so he was lying. In truth, while a small part of him did care about the people of Camelot, that wasn't the real reason he was not welcoming the invaders with hugs and kisses….the real reason came down to just one man; or prince really. Damn Arthur.
Because he knew, no matter what the enemies' intentions were—that they would be fools to leave the crowned prince of Camelot alive after a takeover. So no. The reason he was half bent over—currently debating on whether or not he should confront his friend was solely down to his increasingly annoying and irrational fondness of a certain blond jackass.
Apparently old Voldmort did know a thing or two; emotions truly could be ones down fall.
"We need to move!" his brother's voice hissed poorly concealed panic causing his voice to shake slightly. Harry had been rather surprised when Merlin, of all people, was the one to volunteer to get closer to the arriving riders (not that he thought that his brother was a coward or anything, it just seemed slightly out of character for the tall wizard to want to get closer to armed assailants. But then he supposed that even he could be faulted for buying into his brother's helpless act at times. It was often hard to recall that his brother was actually a fairly powerful magic wielder—well for this day and age- when he was so busy acting the fool in front of Arthur). His arrival back signaled that he had either dealt with the threat—unlikely, or had retreated when he realized that he would not be able to use his magic to do so—more likely.
"They have already breached the inner walls….from what I could see they are moving at a steady pace. T-t-they are slitting the throats of everyone they come across….." Merlin continued looking a bit ill at the last part. He wasn't the only one—Morgana's face went sheet white at his statement.
"B-but they are all unconscious….why would they bother?" she asked her voice hoarse and whispery sounding.
Merlin managed to swallow past his horror and give a weak shrug in reply—Harry thought that the question was rather rhetorical, it was obvious why-any good tactician knew that it was better to make sure that your enemy could not get back up…and what better way to ensure that then death? Still he did not point this out realizing that his insight would likely be unappreciated at the moment.
It worried him slightly that he was not as put out by this knowledge as the other two…once upon of time he too would have been horrified…now though….
He shook his head deciding to worry about it later…he knew he had changed when he merged with Myror; he just hadn't realized how much.
"How fast are they moving through the streets?" he asked instead—deciding to redirect his companions attention; he felt Arthur struggling to sit up straighter against him. After a few rapid eye blinks it seemed as the prince had once again succeeded in pushing away his desire to let them just stay closed.
Harry had to hand it to him; Arthur did show signs of being able to become a true leader—his desire to see his kingdom and people safe was admirable.
Merlin paused his eyes flickering slightly as he did the mental calculations in his head—his expression was grim when he reached his conclusion, "I can't say for sure….but definitely less than an hour before they reach us….we are quickly running out of options. I….we need to find a way to destroy this curse if we are to have any chance at surviving this" Merlin quickly corrected his momentary lapse but the urgency and fear did not leave his tone.
Harry knew that Merlin was right; Morgana obviously did as well because her already pasty color developed a significantly greener tinge. Obviously she knew more about how to destroy the curse then she was letting on.
As though his observation was a silent cue, Morgana cleared her throat doing a commendable job at steadying her voice of nerves before asking, "Wait…." Seeing the attention swinging to rest on her Morgana swallowed slightly before continuing—apparently her need to know just how much Merlin knew about the curse and breaking it, outweighed her obvious desire to remain unobtrusively in the background, "you said that we need to destroy the curse…you make it sound….does that mean that you know how to do so?"
Harry had been wondering as well—just how much was his brother aware of? And since he knew how the curse was destroyed (a given considering he had read the old man's book) did he know who the anchor was?
Harry allowed his eyes to slide over to his (no dammit! The….not his….)struggling prince, knowing that if Merlin did not know already then Harry would end up telling him. He really did not want to….no matter what strain was currently between him and Morgana, she was still his friend….but if push came to shove….
He never found out what Merlin's answer was for their whispered conversation was halted by the sound of a distance clattering. The sound was unmistakable-horse hooves on cobblestone; they had wasted too much time, they needed to move and they needed to do so now!
Clearly the others realized this to as their eyes widened at the sound. "We need to move! The only place near too us with decent barricades is the throne room" Merlin hissed his eyes darting anxiously—as though expecting one of the ghost like riders to appear before him at any second.
Harry decided that they had dithered enough, "You and Morgana move Uther—I'll help Arthur"
True, this might seem a bit reckless considering that he was pretty sure that Morgana was in cahoots with the riders but he would rather risk Uther's neck then Arthur's, plus he was pretty sure Merlin would be able to defend himself long enough to get away if it came down to that. He was not truly worried though, Morgana seemed far to intent on hiding her true allegiance to suddenly switch….at least until the original castor appeared.
Merlin looked as though he was going to argue but the sound of a slamming door—really not very far from them—seemed to make him think better of it. He gave a abrupt nod before stooping his long frame to grab Uther (rather roughly—much to Harry's hidden amusement) under the arm pits, waiting for Morgana to do the same for his feet (which she did—looking equally, if not more so, reluctant then Merlin did).
Assured that they were making their way slowly towards the last hole up, Harry turned his attention back to his own barely awake cargo.
If he hadn't been so close to the Prince (he needed to be, to carry him!—he was not taking advantage of the situation….) he might have missed Arthur's whispered words completely.
"..Henry I—I need to-I'm sorry…so, so sorry…"
Harry froze, finding himself rather shocked by the blond's words. Not that the Prince apologizing to him was a rare thing (it was actually becoming something of a reoccurring event in truth), but because this time he sounded so despondent…so….well, small. As though he had waited forever to say the words only to find that he had waited far too long and his time had run out. It was the sound of a man who had given up-and it made Harry's heart clench.
"Stop it," his reply came out clipped and scared.
Arthur struggled to straighten his spine—managing to do so out of sheer stubbornness—shaking his head while doing so, "no…I need to….please…I'm sorry Henry…for being such an idiot. For making a decision on my own when it should have been made by two...for making the wrong decision, for…for…everything"
Harry made to respond—not even sure himself what his response was going to be—but was once again silenced as Arthur took a deep breath before struggling to continue,
"I don't expect you to forgive me….but I needed to say it. I need you to know that I truly care for you….that I lov…"
Harry knew that he could maintain his silence, wait and make the prince say it—but he realized he didn't need to hear the words. He already knew what Arthur was trying to tell him; it was evident by simply glancing in his eyes.
Feeling far too weary at the continuous delays and roadblocks to reach this point, he could not see the worth in further delaying what he had wanted to do since before that horrid moment in the woods. So he didn't.
It felt like coming home. Arthur's lips were dry and cracked—his response lethargic due to the curse, but it still felt like one of the best kisses Harry had ever experienced. The moment their lips met, he knew that nothing else mattered: nothing but this.
And then like an ironic reverse fairytale; Arthur fell asleep.
God damn his luck.
-o—
Morgana found herself frozen in place, she blinked and even went as far as rubbing her eyes—just in case the stress from everything that had happened that day had finally caused her to lose it and hallucinate.
Anddd….
No. She wasn't imaging things: Henry really was kissing her brother. Well, she supposes that it certainly cleared up a few things…definitely answered her previous suspicions about something going on between the two of them. Of course even in her most insane hypothesis she had never truly thought that they were together like, well…that.
As quietly as she had slid the door open she allowed it to close again. Given that everything was falling down around her ears at the moment, she wasn't prepared to deal with this new information right now…no, right now she was just going to pretend she hadn't witnessed the desperate lip lock between the two (just like she was not going to examine the flushed feeling it had caused her).
"What the hell is taking Henry so long?" Merlin asked as soon as he realized that she was back in the room sans either of the two boys she had left to check on. He was pacing restlessly a few feet from the unconscious king looking conflicted on whether he should be standing closer to guard the man or shoving him out one of the windows to his death. Morgana could certainly relate to the feeling….though she knew she had already chosen which of the two it would be.
It wasn't option A.
She found that she was at quite a loss for what she was supposed to do now….today had not turned out at all like she had thought it would; like Morgause had promised.
She thought she was going to hurl when Merlin first told them that the riders were slitting the unconscious victims' throats. Her first thought was that he had to be wrong—Morgause had promised her that no one would get hurt because of the curse….she had promised.
But deep down Morgana knew that Merlin wasn't mistaken. Deep down, she had known that her sister would not be satisfied with some minor bloodless test, she had known in the back of her head (even when Morgause had first explained the nature of the curse and what they needed from her) that she might be crossing a line that she would not be able to come back from.
And from the expression in Henry's eyes when they had met hers—she knew that it was too late. It didn't matter that she hadn't meant for anyone else (outside of Uther of course—but he hardly counted considering his list of crimes against humanity) to get hurt, it didn't matter that she thought she was doing just what was necessary to allow her, her new family and her friend to finally live in peace. Now that Morgause's true plan was unfolding….none of it mattered.
She had helped cause this. These deaths were on her. There was no turning back now…. no matter how she might wish to.
The sound of the door creaking open roused her from her thoughts and she watched feeling strangely detached, as Henry half carried-half dragged her now unconscious brother into the room. The sound of the door slamming shut and the locks sliding into place finally jolted her enough to go over and assist moving Arthur's limp form.
She tried her hardest not to stare at Henry's slightly reddened lips. She wasn't supposed to be aware after all…the bite of betrayal and hurt that it caused caught her off guard. Out of everything that had happened between them she really hadn't expected it.
After all he had already hidden much larger things from her….and she from him, what was this in the scope of things?
She tried not to think of it. In fact she tried not to think of anything….she knew there were several ways that this could play out; she also knew that none of them were good. Today was going to end in heart break- the silence between the three of them was only delaying the inevitable.
It seemed as though Merlin had reached this conclusion as well, as he was the first to break it (likely spurred on by the sound of something crashing against the door; though the door continued to hold…if only barely).
"I know how to break the curse" he stated his voice strangely flat.
Despite knowing how this was going to go, Morgana still felt her heart rate spike with fear. It was animal instinct that had her edging away from the manservant—eyes skittering for some means of escape. She was stupid…she should have separated from them earlier….why didn't she separate earlier?
"We need to destroy the anchor" he continued—his tone never wavering though his steps towards her looked shaky at best, "Morgana…..I know that you are the anchor"
The last bit was said so softly, almost apologetically—yet still laced with confusion and the unvoiced question of WHY? Why did she agree to this? Why would she betray them…her friends? Why, Why, Why?
Unable to stop herself her eyes swung over to where Henry stood—like she suspected, there was no surprise on his face at Merlin's announcement though the despair and sorrow in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her. In that moment she didn't know the answer to Merlin's silent questions. She didn't know why.
All she knew was that this wasn't supposed to be this way. This wasn't how it was meant to play out….still even though she knew that it was pointless, that all three of them knew the truth, she had to try.
Her survival instinct wouldn't allow for anything else. "What are you talking about?! Are you crazy?!" she barely recognized the high panicked voice for her own.
She continued to back up only to realize that she couldn't, back hitting the wall she hadn't even realized she was near. She had no were left to run.
Just as Merlin reached her, his hand resting almost tenderly on her forearm the barricaded door gave way with a deafening bang.
The woosh of power that followed its fall caused Henry (who was nearest to the door) to stumble before righting himself and spinning around to face the disruption.
Despite being furious with her sister for how today had gone down, Morgana could not deny that she was happy to see her in this moment. She looked magnificent standing there—her wild curls blowing despite there being no wind to speak of, the power that the curse was emanating through her evident in every cell of her being; from her stance to her slightly glowing eyes.
And just like that Morgana found her despair and indecision leaving her. Morgause looked amazing—she looked powerful; Magical. She looked like a witch in that moment.
This was what Morgana was doing this for. This was why she was risking everything….
She was doing it for Magic. For freedom.
It was that split moment of distraction that allowed Merlin to get the upper hand, she felt the shock and fear return when she realized that he had her back pressed against his chest, a dagger held to her throat. It didn't matter that he was shaking like a leaf- it was clear that he, at least, had made it clear on which side he stood.
"Release the spell Morgause or I will be forced to kill her" he demanded, his voice was surprisingly steady.
She could not find it in herself to be surprised by his words…she had known that this was one of the possible outcomes—no she was not surprised, but she was still hurt. But what hurt her even more then having her friend threaten her life, was watching her other friend, her mentor, stand across the room frozen. He made no move to intervene on her behalf, he voiced no protest; he just stood there.
'Though given what she had witnessed earlier could she really be surprised?' she wondered bitterly. It was clear who Henry had chosen; and it wasn't her.
She didn't even listen to the following arguments between her captor and her sister—the fancy dance that Morgause tried to play to ensure she got everything that she wanted (though she was aware that it failed by the increased pressure of the knife).
To be honest, she was a little surprised when Morgause conceded to Merlin's demands and lifted the curse instead of choosing her ultimate goal over her sister's life. It only made her more grateful to the witch.
The second before they disappeared, escaping away from Camelot (likely the last time she would see her home for quite some time) she found herself seeking her former mentor out one last time.
Yes, there was apology in his gaze but too, there was an unmistakable challenge.
They had all chosen their sides.
Note:
Chapter title: From the nursery rhyme titled: Little Boy Blue
Little boy blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cows in the corn.
Where is the little boy who looks after the sheep?
He's under the haystack, fast asleep