Hello, my beautiful readers. I apologize for the tardiness of the chapter-I know, I promised to publish it last weekend. It's just I figured I should write and send chapter 16 to my beta before I did, just so I don't catch up to myself. But it was difficult to write, gahhh, writer's block. A lot happens and I was perhaps a bit overambitious in what I could accomplish in such a short period of time ( I hope you guys are still with me come chapter 16). So the chapter was long, the writing wasn't good, and Merlyn had a lot to fix. Yeah... that is why this chapter is late, and I sincerely apologize.
This song fits the occasion entirely: Masquerade: Phantom of the Opera
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. More notes below when you're finished (as well as reviews I couldn't reply too).
"How could you be so stupid?"
"He had to be taught a lesson."
"Your magic is to be used for good, not for silly fights with royal guests."
"Why should I have to hide who I am just because they're here? Magic is a part of me that isn't going away, so Uther and his bloody son should get used to it if they want Glendale as an ally—OUCH," The warlock flinched as Gaius cleaned his wound.
"This treaty isn't all about you, Merlin—"
"-And I'm not the only sorcerer. I used my magic to defend someone else, it doesn't matter against whom. I shouldn't have to explain my use of magic; I've never had to before."
"That's true, but there's a lot at stake here," Gaius snapped.
"You don't think I know that? But if I don't have the strength to stand up to an arrogant bully than my abilities were given to the wrong person."
The old physician sighed, rubbing a salve on the deep cut in the warlock's side. "I just need you to be careful."
"I will be. I promise," Merlin said with a comforting smile, but flinching when Gaius pressed on the wound.
"Idiot," the old man breathed.
"So this is what it's come to. Remember when we fought together? Why is it that now we fight on opposite sides? Tell me, what went wrong?"
"You chose him, over me. You chose them, over us. You chose to leave me in the dark, to betray your kind."
"No, it was you who betrayed us. Magic is supposed to be used for good that is its true purpose, not for glory."
"Yes. Right from the mouths of old professors. Don't you understand? No matter how much you protect them, no matter how much you serve them, they will never truly trust you. You are the thing that they cannot understand, and that shouldn't be something to be ashamed of."
"Don't—"
"You've pretended for so long that you've forgotten who you are. You may be willing to spend your days as a servant, to serve them and answer to their every command, to pretend that you are less than them, but that is not something I will do. I will not apologize for who I am. It's time those with magic fought back, it's time for a blow to be dealt for the likes of you and me, and if you are too weak to do it yourself, then it falls to me."
"Then I am sorry to say that we will fight on opposite sides tonight, and for the battles to come until you give up this madness."
"How will you fight against me? You have no magic, you have nothing."
"That's wrong."
"Then pray tell me what you have?"
"Your heart."
Merlin shot up awake, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He looked around him-everything of his had fallen to the floor. Drawers empty, bookshelves toppled, the bedside table overturned. The warlock made his way weakly to a mirror, and saw in horror that his eyes were burning gold.
"No, no, no," he murmured, collapsing to the floor. Remembering Edwin's words, he put his head between his knees, focusing on his breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Slowly he got a handle on the magic, and its departure left a hole in his chest. His white shirt was soaked through with sweat, and the cut on his side had bled through the bandages and was seeping through the fabric, leaving a growing scarlet stain. Merlin leaned against the side of his bed, closing his eyes. His back was killing him, and he was sure the wounds there were bleeding too. He made his way to the table at his bedside on wobbly feet, taking a gulp of the tonic, and waited for it to ease his pain.
Going back to sleep wasn't an option, and despite the fact that he was still exhausted, he removed his night shirt and pulled on a red tunic over his sleeping trousers. Tugging on his boots, the warlock opened the door quietly and softly padded his way to the door. He turned to look at his guardian and mumbled a spell to right the old man's blankets. Smiling, he made his way out the door, closing it slowly, and stepped out into the castle. After walking about in the darkness, he made his way to the roof.
Gwen has shown him the way on the third day of his arrival, and from that moment it had become their place. He climbed the wooden step ladder leading to the trap door in the ceiling, opening it and pulling himself into the brisk night air. It was a beautiful evening, and the breeze cooled the warlock's feverish skin. Despite the fact that he was always there, the sight never ceased to take his breath away. Glendale was a thousand twinkling lights, a thousand fires that burned before turning to smoke at the sun's first rays.
When finally the sun rose from behind the mountains, the warlock returned to his room and spent the rest of the morning cleaning, and his room was pristine by the moment Gaius came to wake him. Work that day was canceled in order to let people prepare for the masquerade—it was to be held at sunset, and that gave Gaius ample time to take the young man to a fitter. The day went by faster than he could have imagined, and an hour before they were meant to go down to the ball, Merlin found himself seated on one of the many wooden benches in the physician's chambers. Gaius was un-wrapping his wounds to see how they were. The old man grunted at the sight of Merlin's back, and the warlock winced.
"How bad is it?"
"Not bad at all. They are healing, and new skin has grown. However I fear that they'll scar and I can do nothing except heal them. They won't remain this red forever, though, but I'll start putting on this salve to help them pale."
"Thank you, Gaius."
"There's no need to thank me, boy. I'm just grateful you still have that head on your shoulders—a mystery though it is."
Merlin laughed meekly and was quiet while Gaius gently covered his back with a cool cream. When the physician rose to his feet, walking away, Merlin looked at him questioningly. "Don't you need to bandage them…?"
"No, the cream will keep them covered and protected, so you'll only need a bandage for that cut on your side."
"Yes!" The warlock shrugged on his shirt, enjoying the lack of bandages for the first time in what seemed like ages.
"Now go get dressed. As members of the court, we are expected to be early."
Merlin nodded and made his way quickly to his room. He had bathed earlier and taking a look at the costume Gaius had laid out on his bed, Merlin knew that he wouldn't feel like himself when he put on the rich fabrics. Sighing, he began the painstakingly-long process of pulling on the many layers.
When he was finished, the warlock moved to look at himself in the thin, long mirror at the corner of his room. What he saw surprised him. The costume was made up of black trousers, and a pair of borrowed black boots that were laced up to his knees. His tunic was made of the darkest blue silk, silver embroidered at its neckline. A black cloak was fastened by a beautiful silver brooch, and it was paired off by an ebony mask that covered half of his face in elaborate design, the dark velvet covered in silvery detailing. The costume was finer than anything he had ever worn, and as Merlin looked at the figure in the mirror, he couldn't help but feel that this was the Emrys people expected. His ivory skin was set off by the dark fabric, and it accentuated his cheekbones. Tinted blue, the top made Merlin's eyes look bluer than they usually did, and when he pulled on the mask, the warlock felt like he looked like a creature who had walked out of the night sky.
The young man was itching to take it off.
But Gaius's call sent the warlock out the door, and he stood awkwardly under the physician's gaze.
"Well…" Merlin asked hesitantly.
The old man looked him up and down, walking towards the boy and smoothing down the warlock's midnight black hair. Satisfied that it would stay down for at least five minutes, Gaius stepped back and looked at the young man.
"Well, you don't look like a bumbling idiot, which is an improvement."
Merlin smiled. "Thank you, Gaius."
The old man nodded. "Let's be off. We can't be late."
Following him, the ward appraised his guardian's costume. The physician wore a long deep crimson robe, embroidered with gold. He held a simple gold mask in his hand, and Merlin knew that Gaius probably felt like he did—out of place. Walking down the lowly lit corridors of the castle, the warlock refrained from pulling on the mask until he could hear the ball. Then, with a few scattered butterflies and a sense of excitement that he hadn't even realized he felt, Merlin pulled it on, tying the black silk ribbons to the back of his head.
Taking a deep breath, the sorcerer stepped into the gardens, or in better words, stepped into another world.
It was a world filled with alien creatures adorned in fineries that would have hundreds weeping with jealousy. Every costume was more exotic than the next, every figure more graceful than the next, every face more disguised than the next. Masks adorned the foreign beings, kohl darkened eyes, a flash of rouge, an upturned smile the only hints to who they might be, the bizarrity of their appearance leaving their identity to the fevered mind.
Violins played at the far end, and the sounds of singers broke through the harmonies, giving the creatures something to dance to. Servants in scarlet costumes handed out wine and small foods for those who wished it, but who could eat in the company of such outlandish impossibilities? Hair was pulled up into towering styles that defied the laws of nature, and feathers fell from the jewel encrusted fans held in ladies' dainty gloved fingers. Their gowns were of all kind and color, ranging from boldly striped to simple dark velvet with sweeping necklines. And their masks, oh their masks, people would dream of them for nights to come. Some were shaped into the faces of animals, some held on long poles, some made of pure gold.
But somehow, the creatures seemed at home, for this was their world. The gardens had been done so beautifully, so exotically, that they would be the envy of all those who saw them. Bushes were cut into stunning shapes, the shapes of dancers, the shapes of animals, the shapes of the impossible. Flowers were everywhere, and many had been painted with color and glitter, making them more beautiful than any could have ever dreamed.
There was a rose painted with checkered black and white squares, lined with silver glitter.
There was a lily, its petals the colors of the spectrum.
There was sunflower, painted a deep blue as it reached towards the sky—lit up with the soft hues of a sunset.
The color that makes the eyes doubt themselves, the feel of the soft grass beneath feet, the smell of rich perfume intermingled with red wine that leaves the inhaler dizzy, the sound of the music playing. They all make for a sight that many will dream of for years to come. They make for something that brings tears to the eyes of all those blessed with the ability to see this beautiful world. For ages words will attempt to capture such a moment, but words can never be truly mastered by man nor beast, so words, no matter how eloquent, are vulgar in comparison to that which they seek to capture.
Merlin walked into the crowd of dancers just as the dance ended, and so joined the line of men that waited for their next partners. The tune was struck, and with a quick beating heart, the warlock extended his hand to his first companion. And so the evening went on in such a manner, twirling and dipping and spinning and laughing with unknown peoples, some good dancers, some atrocious, some ladies, some men. Sometime through the evening, a copper skinned dancer fell into his arms, wearing a crimson colored dress embroidered with flowers up the bodice and sleeves. Hand on her waist, he twirled her around, and when they came close, whispered in her ear.
"So how is my dancing, Princess?"
"Good, as it should be, considering I'm the one who taught you, magical farmboy," Gwen giggled back, and he spun her around once more before they switched partners.
All the while he was dancing, Merlin felt a strange tug, a magical awareness of someone or some ones in the crowd. Occasionally, his eyes would meet those of a lady in a black and blue midnight velvet dress. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and its strands framed her face as they were pulled from orderliness by her dancing. The costume itself was stunning, layers of checkerboard black and white, striped black and blue, rings of silver metal adorning her shoulders, and a sweeping neckline that showed a wide expanse of snowy white skin. Though a mask covered most of her face, Merlin knew in his gut that she was the Lady Morgana, dancing just out of his reach.
Then, out of nowhere, she spun into his arms. His heart beat faster at her proximity—she smelled of rose and some exotic scent, and her full lips were pulled into a wide smile as he danced swiftly and effortlessly with her. Merlin held Morgana close as they spun, and the moment seemed to last forever, all the while the warlock nervous that he would step on her toes. He bent her down, so low that strands of her hair brushed the pressed grass. She laughed out loud as he pulled her up and hoisted her in the air with the other dancers, her weight forgotten at the sight of her bright eyed smile. Suddenly, the music stopped. The couple slowed and then stood to the side, arms brushing with each other and other dancers as they made a path for Uther Pendragon.
The king had shed his mask and went to stand next to King Leodogrance before he began to address those present.
"Our actions over the next few weeks will hopefully bring years of peace and prosperity. It is sure to bring our two kingdoms many pleasures, but few could compare to the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."
Filling with applause and eager murmurings, the gardens were abuzz with excitement. Merlin had heard of Lady Helen's great talent- it was rumored she had the finest voice in the seven kingdoms, but the warlock had never had the pleasure of hearing her first hand. All around him, people were craning too see the lady as she walked from the castle into the ball, but Merlin was lucky, standing at the edge of the human-made walkway and near the high table where the Kings of both kingdoms sat with the heirs to their thrones, and so he had a perfect view.
The sound of a harp filled the air, and Lady Helen, dressed in a golden gown with a light blue collar and over-coat, brown hair pulled into a tall elaborate hair-due, began to sing. Her arms opened as her enchanting voice spread through the gardens. She began to walk towards the high table, moving her arms gracefully as her song rose in volume and power.
But something felt...off.
As Merlin looked around, he noticed that Lady Helen's voice was actually enchanting, and all around him, people began to nod off and fall to the floor in sleep. Quickly, he covered his ears, watched in horror and shock as everyone fell into a deep slumber, cobwebs appearing from thin air, drooping over them and growing from the far reaching bushes. The candles and torches blew out, and the warlock looked around, noticing that the Lady Helen was approaching the high table. From the folds of her gown she pulled a long dagger, which she lifted in the air to throw at none other than the sleeping Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon.
As her eyes narrowed and her voice rose to a high trill, Merlin uncovered his ears and held out his hand, eyes burning gold as he attacked the singer. She flew back, and smashed into the ground.
"Forbearne," he incanted, and the candles and torches relit, shedding light on what happened to the newly-awakening guests. Cries of fear and surprise filled the air, and all around him, people were getting to their feet. But Merlin didn't have time to worry about them, because the so called "Lady Helen," too, was rising. She was not, in fact, the famed singer, but an old lady clutching a golden stone around her neck. Eyes narrowing at him, she screamed a spell which Merlin easily blocked. Guards moved to apprehend her, but the warlock stopped them.
"Leave, everyone stay back."
The old lady looked at him in shock, but then her wrinkled face pulled into what could only be described as the creepiest smile ever recorded in known history. She began murmuring words quickly, the stone gripped tightly in her hand beginning to glow. Merlin had never heard of the spell she was saying, so didn't know what to do except begin to approach her slowly, arms held out, prepared to mutter a counter curse.
But the old Lady wasn't chanting a spell at all.
The warlock was violently thrown back as six other sorcerers rose from the ground, having been called by their leader. Each wore a black suit and ebony masks. Well,at least their dressed for the occasion, the warlock thought sarcastically to himself as he got to his feet. This was going to be a problem.
He quickly listed what he needed to do in his head, heart racing as adrenaline surged within him:
Protect the people around you.
Kill and/or imprison the unwelcome visitors.
Stay alive.
However, the warlock didn't have time to begin, because one of the sorcerers threw a fireball at him. Merlin quickly countered, making a shield of water to protect himself and those behind him from the impact, and steam quickly filled the air. Another fireball came, then a bolt of energy, then another fireball, from all the sorcerers, and sweat poured down his face as he struggled to defend himself. Then he realized what they were doing: they were tiring him out so he couldn't defend the royals.
Merlin moved as fast as he could to stand in front of the high table, shielding them with his body. With a deep breath, the warlock went on the offensive. As the next onslaught came, his eyes burned gold and he repelled them, sending them back to their makers. The power with Merlin replied to their attack knocked several of the sorcerers off their feet.
"CHIATIN!" The warlock shouted, hand outstretched.
A silver bowl began to grow from the floor to the sky, surrounding Merlin and the attackers in an impregnable bubble of energy. But one of the attackers quickly realized what that vapor was, and before they were completely enveloped, he grabbed one of the nearby dancers—trapping them inside with them. Merlin cursed but continued the spell until they were completely encircled. He quickly changed his priorities.
Keep the shield spell up.
Get the lady from the hands of the sorcerers.
Protect said lady.
Kill and/or imprison the sorcerers.
The warlock put the shield spell in the back of his mind, aware of how much it was taking from his energy reserves. He wouldn't be able to control such an advanced spell and fight the sorcerers for long, so time was of the essence. Turning his attention to his enemies, Merlin watched in horror as one of them pulled the dancer tightly against himself, using her as a shield between him and Merlin. The costume looked familiar. He pulled out a dagger and put it at her throat, the blade digging into the exposed skin, blood seeping from the cut. Then he ripped off her mask and Merlin's heart dropped.
The hostage was the Lady Morgana.
Ooooooo cliffie (not bad though, come on! Not compared with other writers leave you with!)
I'd like to thank you guys for all the reviews! Gahhh! More and more people are reading the story and I hope that you guys are enjoying it. If there is anything you want me to change, add, or fix, please please pleaaaaaaaaaaaase let me know!
Now for some announcements:
I will be traveling during Christmas holidays, so next Wednesday. I will have a scarce amount of internet where I'm going-i'll have to rely on trips to the library. It's going to be a bit difficult, but I'll see if I can post. Because I won't have internet at a scheduled time, my publishing dates are going to be off. So either I'll post more, or less, than usual. Just thought you should now.
And since I won't have internet, it means I won't be watching the finale. SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NO SPOILERS IN THE REVIEWS! (begging)
Onward to the reviews I couldn't respond too via messaging (sorry, I know many of these are late)
Ganos Lal: Yeah, it's terrible when you find a fic and it's like GAAAHHH YOUR STORY LINE IS BRILLIANT BUT DID YOU EVEN EDIT THIS? I can assure you these chapters get read over...a lot, a lot, a lot, yet sadly things still do fall through the cracks. Ultimately I try to keep the writing good and I try to take care of spelling and grammar, I hope any mistakes aren't too distracting! Tell me if you notice a change and I'll try to pay even more attention!
Jade: I apologize for not publishing over the weekend (I hope I haven't let you down) I'll try to make up for it though, I promise! Though writer's block shall attempt to stop me, I will stand upon a hill and shout FUCK YOU WRITER'S BLOCK I AM WRITING THAT GODDAMN CHAPTER IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!
Okay, others are a bit too old, but I'll be sure to reply to those chapters I can't respond via messaging more often...
...
by the way, do you even want me to reply to your reviews? Or am I just being annoying?
THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND I SHALL SEE YOU ALL SOON!
-ladywarlock