A/N: finally, action! And Gwaine! Just to warn you, this story is going to be long – I'm not sure just how long, but there are at least two more parts to it, I think. Enjoy :)
Title: Portents and Prophecies
Author: FlYiNgPiGlEtS
Summary: Merlin must stop his prophecy from playing out – but at what cost?
Ratings: T
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, the knights and Gaius. Also a few OCs.
Pairings: no slash. Gwen/Arthur.
Spoilers: Set between series 4 and 5. SOME (slight) SPOILERS FOR SERIES 5 - mainly just 'The Hollow Queen'.
Warnings: blood. Stab wounds. Some not so nice stuff – watch out if you're squimish.
Disclaimer: unfortunately, I don't own Merlin; it belongs to the BBC and Shine.
VI: Portents and Prophecies: Part III
For Merlin, the next three days were hell.
A large amount of his time had been designated to the seemingly impossible task of protecting Arthur from a distance, without being caught doing the exact opposite of what he'd been ordered to do. It had never been exactly easy, keeping Arthur safe, but this was taking improbable to a whole other level.
There were three very big problems. One: he had learned rather quickly that invisibility spells were a lot harder than made out to be. Two: Gwaine was incredibly (and annoyingly) observant when he needed to be. And three: Edgar was not a normal sorcerer.
With any kind of invisibility ruled out and Gwaine checking up on him every other hour to make sure he was 'using his break wisely', he had turned his attention to Lord Lucius' servant, who, it quickly became apparent, was a very real threat, though not to him, exactly – well, that was debatable, really. Edger posed no physical threat to him, per se, but the servant was becoming hazardous to Merlin's loyalties.
When Gaius was doing rounds and Gwaine at training, Edgar had sought him out to discuss their 'similarities', as he had put it. This involved Edgar making himself comfortable in Gaius' quarters and then talking about himself and Merlin for a great deal of time. It was unnerving and uncomfortable, but Merlin didn't turn him away for the sole reason that, during these talks, Edgar almost gave away all of his plans.
Edgar, while incredibly ominous and often cryptic, was not particularly secretive. During his first visit, Edgar quickly revealed he was a warlock, and told Merlin a detailed version of his past, a dark and disturbing tale of him growing up in the dungeons of a cold, northerly castle, raised by an imprisoned druid until the age of five, when he escaped alone and spent a further five years fending for himself. The snowy winters of the north had driven him to Lord Lucius' father, who Edgar, over the years, managed to manipulate into twisted and driven man, convincing him to ally himself with magic rather than prosecute it. He explained his yearning for the power he had seen so many others abuse, of the greed and hunger he had not yet satisfied, and of the fear of being killed for something he was born with. After finishing the thorough account of his haunting life, Edgar had concluded that they were very much the same – both forced to hide their talents and take lowly jobs, never able to exercise their abilities but always craving freedom and power and recognition. Merlin disagreed, but Edgar ominously told him, "we shall see."
The second day, Edgar's stories had moved to the present day. Not soon after he had taken a seat, turning a vial of blue liquid over in his scarred hands, Edgar had told him of his plans to target Camelot. It was because of Uther that those with magic were hunted down and killed, and he intended to right that. He wanted Arthur's power for his own and planned to take it any way he could. Lucius was just a pawn to use over the years to play his wicked games, gaining his trust through using magic to give the warlord anything he wanted – hence the tattoos. Lucius thought he would gain power with Arthur out of the picture, but Edgar believed it belonged to him. Before his departure that day, he had promised that soon he would rule Camelot, and asked Merlin to join him. Merlin had declined rather forcefully.
Yet, as the days passed, Merlin couldn't bring himself to stop Edgar.
If he planned it right, Merlin could easily have killed Edgar. Lucius would surely fail without his warlock and the prophecy would be forgotten. But on the third day, Edgar continued to try and gain Merlin's allegiance, and he found himself listening to, and almost believing in, the vengeful warlock. He refused to betray Arthur, yet understood Edgar's pain. It was confusing, his emotions horribly conflicted, but he forced himself not to think of what could be and instead focus on what was. It was rather easy to manipulate Edgar into giving Merlin a way to spy on Arthur, even if he guaranteed it would not stop him. With Edgar's help, Merlin learnt to scry. Whenever Arthur was in Lucius' presence, Merlin could watch what happened, always prepared to intercept, and managed to avoid getting caught every time. It was rather simple, really, and Merlin found himself wondering why he didn't think of it before.
Still, he refused to join Edgar. And, with no other choice, he was forced back into waiting for a prophecy he prayed would never come.
"You know," Gwaine said casually, as he put his feat up on Arthur's table and clasped his hands lazily over his torso. "You're driving him mad."
Arthur glared disapprovingly at Gwaine's muddy boots where they rested on the table. "It would have been worse, if I let him continue to work."
Gwaine's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
"I'm not." Dragging his feet off the table, Gwaine leant forward, a serious expression on his bearded face. "Merlin thinks he has to protect you, that it's his duty, and you've essentially prevented him from doing that. Like I said before, it's driving him mad."
The king remained silent, thinking over the knight's words.
"And you haven't checked up on him, not once. He needs to see that you're all right."
Arthur let out a soft sigh. "I know, Gwaine. And I will."
"Go on, then."
Neither of them made any move to leave. It was Gwaine who eventually broke the silence with a loud sigh and challenged, rather heatedly, "What is it this time? Important matters of state? Tax reforms? Gwen having one of her moments?"
"Lord Lucius, actually," Arthur replied, as though he had missed the angry sarcasm in Gwaine's voice. "This dinner should seal the treaty nicely."
"I thought you had already secured that."
"It's proving to be more difficult than Guinevere and I expected."
"I have a theory."
"Good."
"Do you want to hear it?"
"Not really."
"I think Lucius wants Camelot for himself," Gwaine continued. "I can see it in his eyes – he's power-hungry, and it's obvious he isn't here just so you can settle a few petty disputes over land. And that servant of his – Edward, is it? – I don't trust him either. There's something about him, something… off."
"Well, he should be leaving tomorrow, so long as everything goes to plan this evening."
Gwaine studied Arthur critically. "Do us all a favor: be careful. Don't give Merlin a real reason to worry, will you?"
"I won't," Arthur said. "But I need to ask a favor in return."
"What do you need me to do, princess?"
Arthur shot him a dark glare. "Take Merlin to the tavern, or something, just… make sure he's all right. Maybe I could shorten his time off." He didn't mention how much he wanted his servant back, how he had actually missed Merlin.
"He'd like that." Gwaine gave a slight nod of approval.
"Just don't get too drunk."
Gwaine grinned mischievously as he stood. "I make no promises."
"You know, Gwaine, I haven't put anyone in the stocks in a very long time," Arthur threatened.
"And I haven't eaten vegetables in a while. Perfect!"
"You can't eat…" Arthur gave up with a resigned sigh. "I'm not paying the bill."
"That's what you said last time!" Gwaine yelled on his way out.
It had been a rather uneventful day. Arthur hadn't spent much time with Lucius, so Merlin had little to do, and had even managed to relax slightly and read one of Gaius' books – until he found out about the treaty-sealing dinner the king had planned that night. Then things got complicated.
He had spent barely an hour thinking over just how he was going to handle this rather dangerous dinner – Lord Lucius was supposed to leave tomorrow, which meant his week in Camelot had passed without any kind of assassination attempt, though Merlin was still sure it was going to happen, and that night was his best guess as to the when of it all – when he got a (mostly) unwelcome visitor: Edgar.
Edgar didn't knock, of course, and instantly took a seat in one of the old, creaky wooden chairs. With a brief, surprisingly cheerful greeting, he picked up a vial of hemlock and a carving knife and studying them with equal intensity before smirking familiarly at Merlin. "Simple-" he placed the hemlock down on the table in front of Merlin. "-Painful." The knife stabbed noisily at the wood, the table shaking with the impact of Edgar's strong blow. "Which one?"
Ah. Another of Edgar's many philosophical dilemmas.
"They're both painful," Merlin noted absently, though it wasn't an answer to the question, and didn't look up from the book he was pretending to read.
"So Morgana tells me," Edgar drawled.
An image he had long tried to forget flashed before Merlin's eyes – Morgana, eyes wide and full of pain and betrayal, staring at him desperately after drinking the hemlock he'd put in her water – and he swallowed hard, meeting Edgar's steady gaze. "You're with her."
"No, no," Edgar replied casually. "But I was lucky enough to spend a night or two in her company. Spoke for hours about a servant who always thwarted her plans. I put two and two together."
Where is she? What is she planning? Merlin wanted to ask. Instead, he said nothing.
Edgar studied Merlin critically. "If you're worried about her posing a threat to your precious Camelot, then rest assured in the knowledge that she won't be bothering you for a while. The Sarrum has her, I believe, and is rather diligent about not letting her go."
"The Sarrum?"
"Interesting man," Edgar said. "Hates sorcery, though. We'll have to get rid of him at some point, I think."
"We?"
"Arthur will be gone soon, and you'll have to reassess your loyalties – sorcery, or the shadows? I have faith that you will make the right choice this time."
"My loyalties will always be with Arthur." He told Edgar the same thing every day.
Edgar flashed his teeth. "Perhaps. But I have big plans for tonight's dinner – plans that may change your mind."
"Don't hold your breath," Merlin snarled.
"I thought you would say that." Edgar focused on him suddenly, intently, and tendrils of gold begun to swirl in his dark irises. "As did Lucius. See, we've discussed you at some length and, while I need you alive, Lucius has no such need for you. We came to a mutual decision – or rather, I came to a decision that, for now, you should be kept out of the way. So when your friend Gwaine stops by, you're going to go with him to the tavern, and you're not going to return until after midnight. Is that understood?"
Merlin blinked, everything becoming suddenly hazy. He felt almost intoxicated. "Y-yes."
"Consider yourself lucky, Emrys. Lucius thinks you need to die for him to take Camelot – quite a compliment, really, considering he still believes you to be nothing more than a serving boy. He was rather charmed by Morgana, when they met; believed her every word, would do her beck and call." Edger chuckled to himself. "Fool."
Merlin only blinked again in reply.
Edgar seemed to enjoy the silence, and talking to himself, because he continued almost happily. "It's a good job he won't really be the one taking Camelot when Arthur dies – the man has the brains of a donkey, no matter how many spells I put on him."
Something registered as not right, but whatever spell Edgar had cast quickly buried it in the backs of Merlin's mind.
"And Arthur will die, no matter what you do, or whatever way I chose to do it – simply or painfully. But the good thing about this spell is that you won't interfere tonight, when Lucius kills the king, and with this prophecy of yours well and truly out of the way, perhaps, Emrys, you will reconsider your commitment to the war against magic. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Yes," Merlin answered instantly.
Edgar grinned. "Fantastic! Now, where is Gwaine? He's quite key to our plans."
As if summoned, Gwaine bounded through the door and bellowed, "Tavern time, Merlin!" The knight fumbled slightly when he saw Edgar, smile flickering. "Err, hello. Just here to… you know… get this one out and about."
The gold vanished from Edgar's eyes, but the spell remained. "Please, by all means, don't let me stop you."
Gwaine forced a smile in reply. "You up for it, Merlin?"
"Yes!" Merlin said, strangely enthusiastic.
Gwaine studied him though narrowed eyes, surprised. He'd been expecting a fight, or at least some protest. Merlin looked more relaxed than Gwaine had seen him in a while, a dazed kind of look in his eyes that made the knight wonder if he was already drunk, and if Arthur needed him at all. "All right then. Let's go."
Merlin practically jumped from his seat. "Let's!"
"Enjoy this night, Merlin!" Edgar called, as Merlin and Gwaine made their leave. "I know I will!"
Merlin couldn't really remember getting to the tavern. The last thing he remembered was Edgar coming to see him that evening, after Gaius had left to deal with an emergency, though he recalled little of what had happened then either.
Somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, he remembered Edgar's eyes swirling gold in front of him. A foggy memory of him holding up a vial of hemlock and a carving knife flashed before his eyes. Simple or painful? He had asked. Merlin didn't know how he had replied.
Gwaine was most defiantly drinking mead, even if Merlin was sure he was only pretending to be drunk, but it was him who felt intoxicated. Merlin found himself wondering if Gwaine had bought him mead instead of water, though he was sure he would have tasted the difference between the two liquids.
Nevertheless, he felt very much like he had last time Gwaine had dragged him to the tavern and sneakily forced him into consuming alcohol. There was an unsteady churning in his stomach and his vision was distorted, the townspeople nearest to him growing a few extra heads each time he looked at them. His own head hurt already and, if last time was anything to go by, it would only get worse.
Merlin giggled carelessly as Gwaine sung at the top of his lungs, a song largely made up of profanities and insults, but somehow incredibly catchy. He felt like there was something he should remember, but he couldn't recall just what it was. The image of a tattooed hand holding a large knife danced through his line of vision, but it was blurry and useless, and dissolved into nothingness as he joined in with the chorus of Gwaine's rude song.
Nearly an hour later, they were nearing the end of the song. It was mid-verse, while a particularly pretty barmaid was singing solo and Gwaine was drooling over her, when he heard the word lord. There was something so important about that word, something he had missed or forgotten.
Lucius.
Lord Lucius was with Arthur right now, discussing plans for the unclaimed territories of the western borders, and he was here singing explicit songs about events too disgusting to mention. Earlier, he had planned to scry on the dinner, to make sure things had run smoothly, and then… what happened?
Edgar.
Why had been at Gaius' quarters? Had he mentioned Morgana? The conversation was playing over in him mind, gaining clarity with each word that returned to his muddled memory, until it all came back to him in one mad rush.
The prophecy. Lucius was going to kill Arthur. Edgar planned to take the throne.
Gwaine yelped in surprise when Merlin pulled him off the table and swiftly out of the tavern. There was yells of protest inside, but all Merlin could hear was Guinevere's desperate cries as she begged him to do something, during the prophecy. Gwaine's questions barely registered with him either.
"Lucius is going to kill Arthur," Merlin said. "Tonight."
"What?"
Where was Edgar? He had altered Merlin's memory, made him go the tavern while Lucius murdered the king. Merlin didn't know why he felt betrayed, but he did.
Gwaine was shaking him slightly, hands on his shoulders. "Hey, Merlin. Focus. Look at me. What did you drink?"
"We have to stop him; he's going to kill Arthur!"
"All right, start from the beginning."
Merlin spun around, ducking out from Gwaine's grip, and took off running. He had barely gotten far when an invisible force slammed into him, sending him flying backwards. The cobbled floor scraped at his back as he skidded along it, coming to a stop near Gwaine's feet. The knight stared in shock at their attacker for a moment, before unsheathing his sword and charging forward with an almighty cry of anger. A moment later, he was on the floor too, and Edgar was standing over Merlin with a rueful look on his face.
"You weren't supposed to break the spell," Edgar said almost sadly, lifting his hand so his palm was facing Merlin. "I didn't want to do this, Emrys."
Edgar begun muttering the words of a spell, but before he could finish Merlin had used his own magic. Now he was standing over Edgar.
"You can't stop it," Edgar stammered almost madly. "A prophecy will always come to pass. You must let it, Emrys. Let it."
Merlin's eyes flashed gold and Edgar's eyes rolled shut.
Gwaine was on his feet now, gaping at Merlin. He had seen it all.
"Make sure he doesn't wake up," Merlin ordered, turning briskly. He could deal with the aftereffects of revealing his magic to Gwaine when Arthur was safe.
"Where are you going?" Gwaine asked. His composure surprised Merlin.
"To save Arthur."
Then Merlin begun to run again, hoping it wouldn't be too late.
Arthur's talks with Lord Lucius had been going well, but they were frustratingly incomplete. It was by no fault of Arthur's; the king had negotiated a reasonable treaty that benefitted them both and Lucius seemed pleased, but it was as though it wasn't quite enough. Gwaine, alarmingly, was probably right – Lucius did seem to want Camelot for himself.
It was subtle at first, but more noticeable as time went on. The warlord continued to speak about how he would rule Camelot, including a number of barbaric techniques that made Arthur feel sick to his stomach, and would discuss plans for the city as though Lucius himself had already secured them. Despite this, he never made a move to claim it, and Arthur doubted he would now. Lucius would have had the chance and not taken it. Was he really a threat? Truthfully, if it weren't for the way he spoke so possessively about Camelot, Arthur would have trusted him.
Still, Arthur had a bad feeling about the dinner. Guinevere had assured him there was no reason for it to go wrong and he wanted to believe that, but a strange feeling of wrongness pooled into his stomach as Lucius entered, sans servant, to dine with them. He had wondered absently where Edgar was, and then what his own manservant was doing – probably with Gwaine in the tavern, drinking away his worries. At least, that's what Arthur hoped he was doing. Chances were he was getting into trouble somewhere. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so sick or why something was telling him to get out of there and ensure Merlin was safe himself, but by the time food were served Arthur didn't have much of an appetite.
Thankfully, while Arthur's mind was somewhere else entirely, the dinner talks were going surprisingly well. Lucius had just about agreed to their own selected territories and so long as nothing drastically awful happened, everything was on track for the warlord's departure the next day.
"So it's decided," Arthur announced, wholly, completely, unimaginably relived not only that Lucius would be leaving tomorrow, but that the dinner would finish soon and he would be able to personally check that Merlin was still alive. He didn't know why he felt so unsettled, but he knew, somehow, that it had something to do with his manservant. "You will take four hides on the western border for your own, independent uses, and Camelot shall take the remaining five."
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to leave inappropriately early to put my idiot manservant in the stocks for making me worry over nothing, he wanted to add, and then run until he found Merlin. Worrying over nothing, worrying over nothing – that was his mantra as he pretended to care about what Lord Lucius had to say. Honestly, he was as bad as Merlin, getting wound up over a 'funny feeling'. Did this make him a colossal hypocrite?
Lucius nodded approvingly. "You have yourself a deal, Pendragon."
Arthur was barely listening. Under the table, Gwen gave his thigh a light squeeze and was looking worriedly in his direction. He managed a tight smile and an even tenser, "I would like to thank you for your cooperation these past days. It has truly been a pleasure to address these issues with such reason and friendship."
"Yes." Lucius' eyes sparkled dangerously. "Friendship."
"Will you depart tomorrow?" Arthur asked, trying to hide the hope from his voice.
The warlord took a long swing from his wine and made a soft, contemplating noise afterwards, as he pondered this idea, before murmuring mildly, "Hmm… perhaps."
Damn it. Arthur looked to Guinevere for something to say that would make him leave, for goodness sake, and she gave him a gentle smile before addressing Lucius herself. "This is a busy time for us all, I'm sure. I think it best you-"
"Oh, I don't plan on leaving anytime soon." Lucius lounged back in his chair, eyes still alight with greed and what Arthur thought was anticipation, and slowly he drew a long, wide knife from his scabbard. Though he made no move to use the knife yet, there was something quietly threatening about the way he threaded it lazily through his fingers. It would have been some party trick, if Arthur weren't so sure the warlord had every intention to kill them. "In fact, I plan on staying for a very long time."
Arthur opened his mouth to call for the guards, but Lucius shook his head slowly, clicking his tongue. "There's no one there. I had Edgar take care of them."
Guinevere's hand tightened around Arthur's thigh. Arthur gave it a reassuring squeeze before reached for his sword.
"Then I'll deal with you myself," Arthur spat, drawing his sword and rising from his chair at the same time as Lucius.
They were barely on their feet before Arthur had launched himself at Lucius, sword outstretched. Lengthier and lighter, Arthur's sword should have given him the advantage, but he had forgotten Lucius' strength in his angry haste. Without so much as breaking a sweat, the warlord dodged Arthur's attack and grabbed the king's wrist as though disciplining a child, twisting it at such an angle that the sword clattered to the floor. Unsatisfied with just disarming him, Lucius turned Arthur's wrist until there was a loud snap and the king cried out in pain. The grin on Lucius' face was mad and sadistic.
"These talks were rather successful, don't you think?" Lucius mused, sending Arthur tumbling backwards after one last bend of his broken wrist. He raised the knife again, excitement burning in his black eyes. "Very beneficial to Camelot."
Arthur watched from the corner of his eye as Gwen moved slowly from her seat and towards his sword, which now lay across the floor. Lucius didn't realize.
Heart beating painfully fast, Arthur wanted to tell her not to, to run instead, but he was terrified Lucius would kill her if he did. Instead, he tried to distract the warlord. "Why are you doing this?"
Lucius threw his head back and laughed. "Isn't it obvious? I want Camelot."
Arthur's sword, an ordinary replica of the magnificent one he had retrieved from the stone during Morgana's last siege of Camelot, skidded towards his feet. Shooting Gwen a thankful smile, he quickly picked up the sword with his uninjured arm and swung at Lucius. It missed again, this time because of Lucius' incredible speed. The warlord moved in a flash, so fast Arthur barely saw it happen.
"I have power beyond imagination, Pendragon," Lucius hissed. "You may as well give up now."
"Never," Arthur snapped, and attacked again.
He was rebuffed incredibly forcefully, from what would have appeared as nothing more than a slight push for Lucius, but felt like being hit with a battling ram. Stumbling backwards, sword tumbling to the floor, Arthur stared wide-eyed at Lucius, who had now raised the dagger readily and was advancing towards him. He barely heard the door fly open, though he could make out that Gwen was shouting something, begging someone, although it wasn't his name she was crying. Dimly, Arthur realized it sounded like she was yelling at Merlin.
There were no words to describe what happened next. Lucius plunged the knife downwards, towards his abdomen, but his movements became suddenly slow, before any impact was made. It was as though time slowed and Arthur could only watch as the blade got closer and closer to him, inch by painfully slow inch.
Then time resumed its normal pace, but not before Merlin, who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, threw himself in front of Arthur. There was nothing Arthur could do as Lucius stabbed the knife into Merlin's gut.
Silence. Long, dreadful silence. Lucius' eyes were wide as he stared at Merlin, shocked that he had missed, but more so at what had caused him to. Then a fresh smile curled his lips and he turned the knife over smoothly within the servant's abdomen. The warlord pulled, and the knife exited swiftly from where it had been embedded in Merlin's stomach.
Arthur heard a pained choke and then a loud, furious shout of "No!" that he didn't realize belonged to him until he had picked up his sword and put it straight through Lucius' chest. There was a thump, and Lucius hit the floor.
Soon after, Merlin's knees gave way. Guinevere fell to the floor beside him, sobbing a mad array of nonsensical words, and Arthur could only watch as the pool of blood around Merlin grew.
Merlin's eyes flicked closed a moment later, but not before Arthur saw what color they had been. Gold.
End of Part III
The Domesday Book state that a 'hide' is 'approximately 120 acres, depending on local variations in the acre'. Thought I'd use it.
As for the chapter... it kind of escalated quickly, and seemed a little bit disjointed to me. If there's not enough description, it's because I was rushing. More stuff should be explained in the next chapter, and some gaps properly filled. What'd you guys think? Good? Bad? Anyone want to take a guess as to what happens next?
Reviews greatly appreciated :)