A/N: argh, it's been a while! I'm sorry!

And, apology number two – there is no whump in this chapter, only another healthy helping of angst and tension-building-up-ness. It would have been included in this part, if it hadn't gotten so long. But I promise you that things will defiantly start getting exciting and whumpy in the next chapter. Promise! And, the next part is progressing much better than this one did, so will hopefully be up soon.

Title: Portents and Prophecies

Author: FlYiNgPiGlEtS

Summary: Merlin learns more about Camelot's mysterious visitors.

Ratings: T

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, the knights and Gaius. Also a few OCs.

Pairings: no slash. Gwen/Arthur.

Spoilers: no big ones, unless Gwen and Arthur's marriage counts. Set between series 4 and 5. A few quotes I stole from series 5 (including the finale).

Warnings: some blood… okay, lots of blood. But not in this chapter.

Disclaimer: unfortunately, I don't own Merlin; it belongs to the BBC and Shine.

VI: Portents and Prophecies: Part II

Arthur hated surprises. And this particular one was, to say the least, infuriatingly unhelpful and completely unexpected, not to mention unplanned. The citadel staff were only half ready for the arrival of Lord Lucius and, other than bickering with Merlin for the better part of that morning, Arthur was not very prepared to greet the warlord himself.

His previously good mood was diminishing at an alarmingly fast rate. First Merlin, now Lucius; he should have known his break would be predictably brief. Reality was catching up with Arthur, and he didn't like it one bit.

Suddenly, all at once, there were too many things to do. And, unfortunately, first on that damnable list was Lord Lucius and his annoyingly early arrival. He would have to spend the next few days securing Lucius' trust and ensuring he became an negotiable ally, which involved an awful lot of mindless chatter about things he couldn't care less about and certainly wouldn't leave him any time to check up on Merlin who, despite his earlier bravery, looked worryingly rattled by the warlord.

It was hard to focus on anything else, let alone Lord Lucius, when Merlin was standing just across the hall looking so pale and scared. Arthur was surprised at how venerable he looked and, in that moment, wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend somehow. Whatever it took to make him better, he would do it. He would do anything – was about to, even, when Guinevere squeeze his hand for the third time, bringing him back to reality, and despite the pain and anger and guilt that had taken sanctuary in his turning stomach, Arthur had no choice but to put duty first, like he had done too many times before, and greet Lucius unpracticed and annoyed.

"Lord Lucius," Arthur said finally, sure and certain, but still more focused on Merlin than the big, burly man standing in front of him, with whom he was now absently shaking hands. "Camelot is most grateful to you and your men for accepting our invitation. It is our pleasure to welcome you in peace and friendship."

Lucius nodded once, smiling in a way that sent shivers down Arthur's spine, and the king couldn't quite decipher the dark sparkle in his almost-black eyes. "The pleasure is all mine, my lord."

Arthur smiled slightly, praying that the caution slowly knotting its way around his stomach didn't show, and tensely observed as the warlord greet his wife, unnerved yet again by the way Lucius was grinning almost… greedily. Though, unlike the number of other nobles who had come to visit, he wasn't looking at Guinevere like he wanted her; he was looking around the throne room as if assessing it for some unknown task, and appeared incredibly pleased by what he saw.

Briefly, Arthur met Gwen's eyes and found the same apprehension there, before clearing his throat and motioning the nearest servant closer. "Gilbert, show Lord Lucius to his chambers and see to it that his needs are met."

The servant, Gilbert, bowed deeply. "Of course, sire."

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," Lord Lucius said. "My own servant will be happy to attend to me. Isn't that right, Edgar?"

Edgar stepped forward, to stand beside Lucius, and Arthur's feeling of unease increased tenfold. He was sure he'd never seen the tall, scrawny man before – he would not have forgotten the man's shadowed, haughty face and dark, haunting eyes – but there was something about Edgar that put Arthur on edge. The servant's smirk was decidedly sinister, filled with what Arthur could only describe as malice and the same curious greed as his master, and the king knew instantly that he could trust neither man.

"It would be my pleasure," Edgar replied.

Arthur did his best to ignore the growing feeling of dread in his chest. "Well, in that case, follow me."

Arthur's day was ridiculously busy.

First, he had had to ensure Lord Lucius was satisfied with his accommodation and that he had settled in well enough. It was a boring task and only served to put him more on edge about the warlord and his strange servant. Lucius talked about Camelot as though it was his, and Arthur was starting to wonder if it was his intention to make that true.

Afterwards, there had been a number of urgent matters of state to deal with. Then he had subtly put the citadel guards on alert and helped Gwen arrange a banquet on short notice, before holding a rushed training session with his knights and a few of Lucius' men, who were almost as alarmingly strong as the warlord himself.

Despite this, it hadn't felt like a very productive day. There was still one issue he'd been forced to leave unaddressed while he made mindless chatter with Lucius, or gave his knights a good enough workout to keep them on top form, or attended a banquet that was stupidly rushed and quite frankly a disaster. That issue was Merlin.

He'd managed to get a few moments alone with Gwen between their meeting with Audrey, the head of the kitchen staff, and the afternoon training session. Merlin had rather reluctantly gone to complete an errand for Gaius, leaving them to talk, and while they usually would have savored the rare moment of loneness, it was Merlin that dominated most of their conversation. Gwen had seen the way Merlin was acting in the throne room too and they both agreed it had gone on for too long – something needed to be done, and soon. So it was decided, over some debate as to just who should be the one to talk to him, that Arthur would find out what was wrong and together they would deal with the problem in whatever way they could.

It should have been simple, if Arthur wasn't so busy, but eventually, after Gwen had gone to personally thank the kitchen staff for their help, it was just he and Merlin – the perfect opportunity.

"Merlin," Arthur said, unhesitant – he knew exactly what to say. "Sit down."

Merlin stopped building the fire and turned to stare at him. "What?"

"We need to talk." Arthur dragged the chair nearest to his out from under the table and motioned towards it. "Sit down."

Slowly, looking slightly uneasy, Merlin sat down. Arthur shifted in his chair, clasping his hands together, and took a deep breath.

"Merlin, I've long since considered you a friend, someone I can confide in," Arthur continued. "And I know that I haven't exactly – I haven't… expressed that very well in the past, but… you are a friend – a good friend – and I hope that you consider me to be one too, or at least trust me enough to confide in me also."

"Arthur…"

"No, Merlin, I know something's been bothering you and, frankly, I've let it gone on for too long. Gwen and I – we want you to know that you're not alone and I… I want you to know that you can talk to me about whatever it is. You don't have to go through it by yourself."

The fire crackled softly, but other than that the room was quiet. Merlin stared at the table, shoulders slumped and head hung, and Arthur wondered if he'd said something wrong. Then, almost shamefully, Merlin's eyes met Arthur and the king was startled to see the tears glistening there.

"I can't… I can't tell you," he choked.

Arms crossed, eyebrows draw, Arthur watching as his friend swallowed painfully and flinched away from the monarch's scrutinizing glare. Suddenly, Arthur didn't know what to say. "I want to help. I don't… I can't watch as – as you change. Because you have changed… and I don't want that; I want you to always be you."

A look of hurt crossed Merlin's face and Arthur realized, too late, that he had said something wrong this time. Speaking too fast, he blurted, "No, I don't mean – it's not a bad change, just... you've been behaving differently. What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened."

"I'm not stupid."

"That's debatable," Merlin joked weakly, and Arthur would have danced in delight if it weren't for the tears still glistening in his manservant's eyes and the slight tremble in his voice.

"What happened, Merlin?"

"I can't…"

"Yes, you can! I'm your friend; I want to help you!" Arthur cried.

Merlin stood up in one swift, sudden movement. "I can't tell you!"

"Why not?" Arthur was on his feet too. "Whatever it is, you can tell. I will listen, and I will do everything in my power to make it better, I swear, just tell me!"

"Lord Lucius is going to kill you!" Merlin snapped, finally, eyes widening in fear at what Arthur would say next.

Arthur sunk back into his chair, tried, and dragged his hand over his face. "I don't trust him either, but…" he looked up at his friend just in time to see the defeated, crestfallen look on his face, and quickly continued – he liked to think he knew better than to ignore Merlin by now. "What makes you think that?"

Arthur was sure the mixture of fear and forlorn Merlin seemed to be feeling was responsible for his sudden truthfulness; it was almost as though he didn't even realize what he was saying when he whispered, "I've seen it" so softly Arthur almost missed those three pivotal words.

"What do you mean?"

"I had a dream – a proph-a dream, and I saw Lucius kill you."

"If…" Arthur took a deep breath. Humor him, Gwen had said. But Merlin claimed he had dreamed Arthur's demise at Lucius' hand. "The citadel is on high alert; if Lucius makes any move to harm me, he will be stopped and arrested immediately. I can assure you that Camelot is safe."

"No, Arthur, he-"

"I want you to take a few weeks off," Arthur said with a dejected sigh. "You need some time to... to be alone - to relax. Just look after yourself, please."

"No!" Merlin shouted.

"I'm sure Gaius will agree with me. Please, Merlin, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, but I think you need this. I will come and check up on you in a couple of days – and if I find out you've disobeyed my orders, I'll put you in the stocks." The threat fell pathetically short.

Merlin stood and stared at the flickering fire for a while, swaying slightly and visibly trembling, and when his silence and shaking became worrying, Arthur got up too. The king put a hand on Merlin's shoulder and, after a brief moment of quiet, smiled slightly, sadly, and said, "Come on; I'll take you to Gaius."

Arthur didn't listen to his weak protests. He walked Merlin to Gaius quarters and tried not to give away how much his chest and his throat hurt, and how his eyes had begun burning with tears. Guinevere realized, though, but the pain eased slightly in her loving embrace.

It came as no surprise to Merlin that he couldn't sleep.

He had made a mistake, letting Arthur dismiss him from work, and it continued to plague his restless mind until have gave up on any kind of rest and snuck rather stealthily from Gaius' quarters. Now, as he walked aimlessly though the palace, it was still all he could think about. How was he going to protect Arthur when he was supposed to be 'resting'? He shouldn't have told Arthur about the prophecy; he'd made a mistake.

Lord Lucius was here to kill Arthur, he was sure of it, and now Merlin had given him the perfect opportunity. He wouldn't be able to protect him for afar. He was going to fail and fate was going to win.

It wasn't fair. All his hard work, everything he had done to help Arthur, would mean nothing; destiny would mean nothing. Merlin would lose the future he had always dreamed about, but worst of all, he would loose his friend. He hated how useless he felt, knowing that, and he was starting to hate himself for not trying hard enough to convince Arthur to let him stay.

He didn't know why he had left his room, but sneaking out of the citadel to let his magic free was growing increasingly more appealing as he paced the corridors. Anger ate away at his constricted chest and he needed an outlet. His magic had grown restless since the prophecy, swirling desperately as if it was just as unnerved by what he'd seen, just as ready to jump into action, and trying to contain it was getting harder and harder.

Soon, Merlin found himself nearing the courtyard, deciding that the Darkling Woods would be a good enough place to let his magic loose and already letting some of it trickle excitedly from his shaking body. Freedom, however brief it may be, was beaconing him, his magic threatening to burst free at any moment, and it felt so good to let go, so good to-

"Restless, Emrys?"

Merlin jumped, magic snapping back into him with such force he nearly stumbled, and turned to stare wide-eyed at Lord Lucius' servant, Edgar. How did he know that name?

Unless… Merlin had known Lucius was allied with a sorcerer. Gaius had told him that it would take someone powerful and practiced to preform such enchantments as the ones placed - or, rather, tattooed on the warlord; if Lucius had such a sorcerer at his disposal, they best be careful.

Gaius had also said that this sorcerer had most likely accompanied Lucius to Camelot. As soon as Merlin had seen Edgar in the throne room, he knew there was something decidedly off about him. He couldn't be trusted, of that much he was certain, but was it possible Edgar was the sorcerer? There was a sense of something powerful about him, a slight swirl of magic surrounding his thin body, and he did know Merlin's druid name.

"They told me you were powerful, but I didn't expect this," Edgar said thoughtfully. "How agonising it must be, to hide your true abilities and play the role of a mere servant. Do you never long for more?"

Studying Edgar cautiously, he said, "No."

"No?" Edgar echoed, almost surprised. "You have never considered seizing your king's power as your own? You have the ability, I'm sure."

"I am loyal to Arthur."

"I understand what it is like, to play a sorcerer in servant's clothing. And I understand temptation." Edgar smirked. "Yes, temptation and I are well acquainted."

Merlin said nothing.

"I have always wanted more, Emrys," he said. "Soon, very soon indeed, I will have it."

Edgar's smile was dark and twisted, filled with greed and spite, and he held Merlin's gaze for an uncomfortably long amount of time before turning slowly to leave. He walked with arrogance one wouldn't usually see in a servant, purposeful and driven, and Merlin was glad to see him go. But just before Edgar reached the corner at the end of the corridor, he stopped and looked over his shoulder, still smiling, and with a cocky click of his fingers lit a near-by torch that had flickered out.

The gold faded quickly from Edgar's eyes. "Perhaps you will join me."

Merlin said nothing as he watched Edgar walk away.

End of Part II

Okay, hope that wasn't awful. Did the bromance maybe, kind of make up for the blatant lack of promised whump? Edgar will be explained and explored some more in the next chapter, before we get to the good stuff.

Let me know how you're liking the story so far :)