.iii
When Merlin was six, he made Will a pendant to wear off harm and bad luck. It was made of dark, sanded wood off an age-old oak at near the fringe of the forest Ealdor was nestled against. As Hunith absolutely refused him anything remotely dangerous (this ranged from sharp objects to feeding the chickens) he had to find some other way to shape it.
Even as a small child, Hunith had discouraged him from playing with the other village children. Something about his wings being a secret and his magic even more so. They were strange. And Ealdor didn't like strange things – it liked the ordinary, the mundane and it was best if every day was like yesterday. She didn't exactly keep him in the house – but frowned worriedly every time he disappeared from her sight, so Merlin, wanting ever to please his mother, obeyed. It didn't help. The other children thought him strange for it, quiet until he started talking and then he didn't stop. They laughed at his pasty complexion and his large ears and Merlin thought that wings wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.
Will was his best- and only- friend. He deserved something Very Nice for his birthday.
Merlin stood beneath the trees, his magic stirring, always eager to leap out of his skin; uncontrolled and wild, gold and dusty on his fingertips as he pressed both palms to the wood of the oak. The tree seemed to chuckle, leaves a sea of rustling in the summer air. An acorn dropped and hit his head. Something…something…
And out of the trunk it came, slowly, slowly, like the growth of the tree itself, emerging like a fruit from the face of the bark. He wasn't quite sure what it was, his magic shaping the wood as if it had a mind of its own. Merlin knew no spells – only the whispering of the forest in a language he didn't know but felt as if he had simply forgotten, like one waking from a pleasant dream. The earth called his name, beckoning with curled fronds and benignly swaying branches and Merlin pulled at the magic, pulled and pushed it into the oak. Then with a creak and a pop, the wooden bauble dropped into Merlin's cupped hands.
It was intricate like nothing his young eyes had ever seen, tiny wooden leaves wound around miniature wooden branches in a tangle that formed a water drop. He took it home with him, after thanking the tree, found a piece of black leather string in his box of Things and threaded it through. Then he wrapped it up in a scrap piece of cloth and hid it away.
When he gave it to Will a week later, Will laughed at him then teased him, calling him a girl.
Merlin snatched the necklace back, wings and bottom lip quivering with hurt and anger.
"I hate you," he said, face hot with embarrassment, "And I didn't want you to have it anyway."
Will stopped laughing and stared at him for a moment, looking guilty.
"Come on, Merl. I was just joking. Give it here."
"No."
"It's my birthday present!"
"Not anymore."
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? Really."
Merlin glared at him, though the effect was lost when his fringe of hair got into his eyes and he had to rub at them to get the itchy feeling away. He held out the necklace by its cord, silently. Will took it, immediately looping it around his neck. The pendant hung there on his chest, the string a little too long.
"It's like, a protection charm," said Merlin.
Will looked up.
"I'll wear it forever," said Will, and then ruined it by adding, "Until it falls off anyway. T'string isn't very strong is it?"
*
Merlin had never, ever forgotten about the incident with the rabbit, and true to his promise to Hunith, he had never tried to heal animals again. Arthur, however, was a different matter altogether.
Merlin often doubted how much Arthur actually enjoyed the tournaments. Between the king's unreachable standards and the expectations of the entire court and audience, Merlin thought Arthur should have collapsed from the stress already. In the days preceding the competition, Arthur would rise earlier than Merlin, often skipping breakfast if his manservant was (inevitably) late. His shoulders would be in a permanent, tense line and he would act more of a prat than usual.
"Don't you get nervous?" Merlin asked once, sneaking a look at Arthur's face as put on his armour.
"I never get nervous," the prince had replied stiffly.
"Really? Because I thought everyone-"
"Merlin!" exclaimed Arthur, a vein throbbing, "Shut up!"
As Gaius's apprentice, he would stand with the physician at the edge of the arena, ready to help the injured. Personally, Merlin thought it all a bit brutal and the crowd's bloodlust a little too strong but he couldn't help feeling a swell of pride and giddy happiness every time Arthur slammed his defeated opponent into the dirt, cheering loudly along with the rest of the crowd. This happened rather often, and he didn't have to worry about Arthur getting mortally wounded. Usually.
Today was different though.
"Sire, you have to let me tend to the wound," said Gaius urgently.
Arthur winced and waved him away with a jerky motion of the gauntlet.
"Don't. It's just a scratch."
Over his shoulder, Merlin could see the time-keeper holding the large hourglass horizontally, ready to begin again once the time out was over. Arthur's opponent was drinking out of a large water skin, spilling droplets everywhere. Merlin reached for Arthur's right side, where the sword had nicked his thigh where the mail shirt ended. He could see a wet stain of blood, dark and red.
"Leave it Merlin!" said Arthur irritably, glugging his own water. Merlin persisted. Arthur whacked the top of his head.
"Ow!"
"I said leave it!"
Taking a deep breath, Merlin placed three fingers on the gash. Magic welled up in his chest.
"It's alright Gaius, Arthur's-" he stifled a gasp of pain, "-right. It's just a scratch."
Arthur gave him a grateful glance before striding back into the arena to loud cheers from the crowd. Banners and ribbons fluttered high in the wind and the time keeper tipped over the hour glass with a flourish.
Merlin knew Arthur would never back down, even if his entire leg had been hacked off. His father's pride was far too important to him to risk, though Merlin sadly. And what was important to Arthur was important to Merlin – even if the warlock didn't agree. Sometimes, he wished Arthur didn't care so much about what his Father thought so he could see how much others loved him. But the prince would do anything for the approval and affection of a distant father and an even more distant King.
That afternoon, after Arthur had won the day's rounds and Merlin had helped him out of his amour and drawn him a bath, Merlin limped back to Gaius' chambers.
*
Will gave Merlin a kerchief, bright red with green thread, for his seventh birthday.
Merlin knotted it around his neck like a scarf and Will's pendant reflected the warm sun like amber.
*
Gaius did not know what was wrong with the Lady Morgana and Merlin could tell the King was going to snap soon. His brow was thunder dark with worry, and the tension in the room was almost tangible. Morgana lay still as death in a sea of white linen and silk blankets. And Merlin could not tell what was wrong with her except the faintest suggestion of-
"…magic, sire," said Gaius gravely. Merlin pulled himself back to the scene at hand, eyes flickering between Gaius and the king and then to Arthur, standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed and expression dark. Gwen hovered, fretting. He itched to lay a hand on her cheek and heal her with his particular brand of magic…but without knowing what was ailing her, he could very well die. Or worse.
"Are you sure?"
"No. I need to conduct more tests before I am sure. We may be able to find a cure for her."
"Then you will make haste," said Uther, in dismissal, returning to his ward's bedside.
All Merlin heard was the distracting magic as it scuttled.
*
The first time Merlin saw the scarred man, it was standing by Gaius in the king's council chambers. The man had been granted audience after he had sought out Arthur, claiming he had a cure for all ills. Merlin stared at the man in fascination, his scars at once horrendous and unforgettable.
"Well, without seeing the patient…" he finished, trailing off. In the past few minutes, he had bowed at least eight times. Merlin was counting. The King, desperate now to save his only ward, gave him permission immediately to see to Morgana. Beside Merlin, Gaius was frowning in a way that drew his eyebrows simultaneously together and up.
"What's wrong?" asked Merlin in a hushed tone.
"I'm almost sure I recognize this Edwin Muirden," said Gaius, "But I can't quite recall where…"
"Really?" said Merlin, interested. A pause. "Is it really possible to create a cure for everything?"
Gaius looked grave.
"I don't know, Merlin. I don't know."
For a strange, impossible moment, Merlin wondered if his wings were something that could be cured.
*
The scuttling and the wrongness of the echoing magic nagged at Merlin for the rest of the day whilst he did all the chores Arthur threw at him in a fit of bad temper. Merlin knew he was worried for Morgana, even after she had been miraculously cured by Edwin. The suspicious niggling at the base of Merlin's spine simply would not go away, itching at his wings.
There was really only one thing to do.
After all of Arthur's swords in the armory were shining (he may have used a little magic to speed up the process) he wiped his hands on the surface of his breeches and went inside the castle. Only one wrong turn later, Merlin arrived at the door of Edwin's door, shut and locked. Looking quickly up and down the deserted corridor, he passed a palm over the gap in the doorway, imagining the lock turning…turning-
The handle gave a satisfying click as his eyes flashed gold and the door opened silently on well oiled hinges.
Be stealthy, Merlin thought to himself. Stealthy…
The room bore similarities to Gaius's chambers, though it was tidier. There were less papers strewn around, everything lined up on one large wooden table near the far end of the room. Cautiously, Merlin inched forwards into the room, wings slightly spread as he walked quickly across the room, past a long travel stained clock hung on the back of a chair.
Light filtered through the two large windows, reflecting off the strange apparatus on Edwin's desk and countless polished metal surfaces. There were books and other boring things, but Merlin was drawn to the tall, spindly instruments gilded in gold. There were fine glass tubing and small, sparkling crystal bottles. He was almost holding his breath as he bent closer to the delicate metal levers and things that turned with a whirr when Merlin touched them with a curious finger. Then he came to a carved wooden box and his hands paused, instinct twitching it's ears. He lifted the lid.
Beetles. Dark, small – they came alive suddenly and the grating of their scuttling seemed to be too loud to be normal, Merlin wanted to throw the box against the wall and shatter it, drown them-
"What are you doing?" came an unfamiliar voice just behind him and Merlin closed the box with a sharp snap and whirled around.
"I. Er. Sorry, I just-" Oh gods, he couldn't lie to save his life- literally even, to save his life.
But Edwin's scarred features abruptly twisted themselves into an indulgent smile, and he reached past Merlin's arm (Merlin suppressed a flinch) and righted one of the golden instruments Merlin had been fiddling with moments before.
"Saw something you like?" he asked, gesturing at his apparatus. Merlin's mind was still frozen at the shock of being discovered. When he didn't reply, Edwin continued.
"It was all originally designed for alchemy."
Merlin's ears perked up. "Making gold?"
Edwin's smile widened. "You have an interest in science?"
"Well," said Merlin shrugging, "Science is knowledge."
"It has the answers to everything," said Edwin but in a strange tone. Merlin couldn't decide whether he was agreeing with him or testing him.
"Maybe," said Merlin, "But it can't explain love." where had that come from? thought Merlin, eyes widening. Edwin chuckled, as if aware that Merlin didn't mean to say the last bit out loud.
"So you're in love."
"No," said Merlin quickly, "I mean, feelings and emotions. You know."
There was a pause. Merlin kept his eyes firmly on the bright glass bottles on the table.
"You seem too bright to be just a servant."
Merlin laughed, embarrassed but pleased at the compliment.
"Oh, don't be fooled. I'm not that bright."
Since Edwin didn't seem to mind, he played with one of the golden levers for a bit, watching the compressor inside a clasped glass vial go up and down, up and down, up and-
One of the bottles – full of sparkling blue sand, suddenly tipped over with a soft click against the wooden table. It happened so quickly Merlin wasn't sure what had happened but one moment everything was still and the next, blue sand was spilling across the table.
"Oh, no- sorry I must have," floundered Merlin, trying to sweep the sand back into the bottle with cupped hands.
Edwin said nothing for a few seconds, then:
"I think we both know you can clean that up much more quickly," said Edwin, a smile in his voice. Merlin froze.
"Er. I can?"
Edwin cocked an eyebrow, the expression disconcerting upon his scarred face and with a murmured word, the blue sand twisted and swirled through the air, nearly back into the bottle. Merlin stared, shocked.
"You're a sorcerer!" he exclaimed.
"So are you," replied Edwin, calmly. "Aren't you? I've been watching. I know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," denied Merlin, desperately. Should he run, before he could call the guards?
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Don't worry. I'm sure we can keep each other's secrets, hmm?"
Merlin nodded mutely.
"After all, in these difficult times…we must look after each other, Merlin. I could teach you." At these words, Edwin floated the dust back into the air, made them swirl in dazzling patterns that made Merlin's head spin then set fire to them, flame that only tingled pleasant warm when it floated over to settle on Merlin's palm before the golden sparks winked out. Edwin's hand left his shoulder and he made his way slowly around the desk to face Merlin.
"I could teach you everything I know, teach you how to use magic instead of reading about it in dusty books. We could help each other."
"You'll teach me about magic?" asked Merlin, warily.
For a split second, Merlin thought he saw something like surprise flicker through the sorcerer's eyes. Then it darkened to something much more dangerous before his face reverted back to the kind, smiling expression of a second before. The reaction was puzzling. Merlin blinked.
"If you like. Now, perhaps you could help me with some gathering of supplies tomorrow? Only if you're not too busy with Gaius, that is…"
Merlin grinned, "No, I'm sure Gaius won't mind."
Edwin inclined his head a fraction.
"Perfect. Off you go then; I have some work to do."
"Can't I help?" asked Merlin hopefully, looking at the golden instruments, their gleaming levers and buttons.
Edwin smiled. "It's nothing interesting I'm afraid. We can start on that tomorrow."
"Okay," said Merlin slightly disappointed, "I'll see you tomorrow then."
He turned and left the sorcerer's chambers, closing the doors carefully behind him, feeling light with excitement.
Long after he had gone, Edwin Muirden stared thoughtfully at the mirror that hung opposite the windows; where in two white wings had been clearly reflected, arching from Merlin's shoulder blades.
*
"Uther will be furious when he finds out who you are."
"Fine. Fine. Shall we tell him? Let's go and tell him. Let's tell him. Let's tell him everything. Oh, I know. We could also tell him about Merlin."
"Merlin?"
" You didn't know he was a sorcerer? Ah. I wonder what Uther will do. Probably have him… burnt."
"You would betray another sorcerer?"
"You did, when you turned a blind eye and let my parents die at the hand of Uther! At least Merlin doesn't have a son who will try to rescue him from the flames."
"You're here to take revenge?"
"Well. Among other things."
*
Merlin couldn't believe this was happening. On hindsight, many years later, he would wonder how he could have been so naïve, so eager to trust, so easily manipulated by kind words.
"But you tried to save Morgana!" said Merlin, horrified, "Uther can't do this to you!"
Gaius only looked sad and very tired.
"Uther's not to blame."
Merlin stood up from his chair, upsetting his spoon on the table and it clattered to the ground. He didn't spare it a glance.
"I'll speak to Edwin. You can work together-"
Gaius' voice was suddenly stern, "No, you mustn't do anything."
Merlin stared at him, incredulous.
"I can't stand by and do nothing! This is unfair!"
"Uther's right," said Gaius, "It's time I stepped down."
Merlin shook his head, dazed.
"What are you going to do?"
"I cannot stay here when there's no longer a use for me."
Merlin's heart clenched, cold and sick. He fought to get the words past the lump in his throat.
"You're not l-leaving?"
"I believe it's for the best," said Gaius.
"Then I'll come with you!"
"Merlin, you're like a son to me," said Gaius, expression soft, "I never expected such a blessing so late in life."
Merlin kept his eyes wide. If he kept the open, perhaps the tears gathering in the corners won't fall.
"And you are more than a father-"
"Then as a father, I must tell you, you must remain here. Camelot is where you belong."
"But I don't want-"
"You have a gift. A destiny to fulfil. You must promise me you won't let it go to waste."
Merlin shook his head. He was very so very sick of hearing the words 'destiny' and 'should' when all he ever wanted-
"No. No, don't leave, I need you to teach me, I-"
"I'm afraid I'm leaving here tonight, Merlin, and there's nothing you can do or say that can persuade me otherwise."
Merlin had never known his real father- Hunith had never mentioned him and refused to answer any questions and naturally he assumed that his father had left them –one way or another-, perhaps even before he was born. Then his mother had sent him to Camelot, far, far away from her without any promise of coming back. And Merlin simply did not understand what was wrong with himself, where he disappointed, and why both his fathers found it so easy to leave.
*
The great dragon shifted on his rocky perch.
"No, it is my jailer who stands in peril."
"Must Uther be sacrificed for the boy?"
"Their time cannot come until his is past," said the Dragon in a rare moment of clarity.
"But is that time now?"
The dragon chuckles. It is a hideous sound, grating across the stony cavern.
"That is of your choosing."
The court physician straightened as much as he could to his full height.
"I will not choose between them."
"Then turn a blind eye. That is, after all, your talent."
*
"You will die, slowly, painfully. And I can only regret that I will not be here to see you draw your last breath."
Uther did not reply. Could not reply.
Edward tucked the wooden box back within the folds of his cloak.
"Did you know Camelot was harbouring an angel, my Lord? With your death, magic will return to this land."
*
Arthur cornered him as he came through the archway, the morning's stack of clean sheets piled high in his arms, running so fast he nearly bowled Merlin over.
"Merlin! Come quickly. My father has caught Morgana's illness!"
Merlin dropped everything he was carrying and sprinted after his prince.
"Send for the physician!" Arthur shouted as they passed some servants in the corridor, flattening themselves against the stone walls to get out of their way. "Send for him now!"
The torches flickered wildly, throwing chaotic shadows as they ran around the last corner and came to the double doors of the King's private chambers. The door burst open with a crash and they tumbled into the room. The king lay on his pillows of red and gold brocade, still as death.
"He won't wake, no matter what I do," said Arthur urgently. "Merlin, stay here while I go and find Edwin. Try to wake my father." And with that, he was back out the door, and Merlin could hear his running footsteps and voice yelling for the physician. He turned back to Uther.
Perhaps he should just let him die… After all, wasn't this the king that had sentenced countless others, innocents, to death? He would send Merlin into the fires without a second thought. Merlin could do the same.
Couldn't he?
Shouldn't he?
Merlin's head hurt. His eyes were red rimmed from a night of fitful sleeping, and he was aware that any moment now, Arthur will be back, and then Merlin wouldn't be able to save Uther with magic, even if he wanted to. He thought back to Gaius' last warnings of Edwin, of scuttling and magic and black-eyed beetles in wooden boxes.
He thought of Arthur and Kings and Fathers.
Taking a breath to steady himself, hesitantly, Merlin reached forwards, cupping hands around the temples of the king, letting his magic well up within him like water from a spring. If it was poison, he could draw it out, literally, with his magic- remove it from the bloodstream like pulling a stray thread from a silk kerchief. If it was malignant magic, Merlin didn't really have much experience with it…perhaps he could right it somehow. A noise. The scuttling and scratching grew louder in Merlin's head until he wanted to scream with it, until…
A beetle crawled out of Uther's left ear and into Merlin's hand. He stilled it without a thought. Merlin felt dizzy, like he had been holding his breath for too long and had forgotten how to breathe, the details in front of him swimming out of focus.
He barely registered Arthur's presence at his side until the prince was shaking him by the shoulders.
"Merlin. Hey, hey- are you alright?"
Merlin gazed at Arthur blankly for a moment before he slowly returned back inside his own head, his magic thrumming beneath his skin, concentrated and hot where Arthur's hand brushed his collarbone.
"What?"
"I've been calling for the last-"
"Arthur," said a voice. It was Uther.
"Father?" Arthur was at his side in an instant, "Father you're-"
"Fine," said the King, struggling to sit up, "I'm fine."
"But how-" Arthur turned to Merlin, "What did you give him?"
Merlin hesitated, then said, "One of Gaius' tinctures…Sire, I think it was Edwin who- I mean, the current court physician-"
Uther held up a hand and Merlin fell silent at once.
"I know. His parents were sorcerers. They were sentenced to death…it seems as if he was here to avenge them. He told me so before he performed the magic."
"I could not find Edwin anywhere, Father," said Arthur, straightening up, "I will send for a search party immediately."
"And I will…" began Merlin, before remembering where he was and trailing off, "Um…um…"
"Where is Gaius?" asked Uther, as if Merlin had not spoken.
"He left last night, Father," answered Arthur.
"Left Camelot?"
Arthur looked at Merlin, and Merlin nodded in affirmation, eyes trained to the ground.
"Perhaps you could send a messenger after him, after we catch Muirden," sighed the King.
"Yes, Father."
Uther gave Merlin a last, piercing look before letting them go, Arthur striding and Merlin stumbling after him. They walked, side by side through the hushed corridors, the beetle still held in Merlin's hand. It wasn't until they were back in Arthur's chambers before Arthur spoke.
"I owe you thanks, Merlin. For saving my Father's life."
Merlin blinked. Arthur shifted slightly, uncomfortably, but there was no mistakening the genuine gratitude in his voice. And some of the cold in his chest that had frozen there ever since Gaius' departure melted. Detachedly, Merlin noticed the fire had sprung up, crackling merrily behind Arthur in a glow of amber warmth.
"It was Gaius' tincture."
"All the same, thank you."
"He was your Father," replied Merlin, meaning to have said of course I saved him.
Arthur studied his face intently for a few long moments. Then he said, "You may retire for the night. Get some rest, I get undressed without your help."
Merlin raised his eyebrows.
"Really."
"Hurry up and get out before I decide your excessive energy could be put to better use."
Merlin blushed at the comment and Arthur must have noticed because he added,
"For example, cleaning out the courtyard. Or my stables. Or my boots. And if you don't go get some sleep right now, it'll be all three, am I making myself clear?"
Merlin grinned at him.
"Crystal, sire," he said, before turning and walking out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
His smile was still on his face until his feet had taken him back to Gaius' chambers, a well worn route through the castle that he followed without conscious thought. He stared at the door for a long, long moment before opening it and stepping inside.
Everything looked the same: except there were less of Gaius' things on the tables. The shelves still held all it's jars of herbs and strange animal skulls, and many of Gaius' books still remained. Merlin wondered if Gaius would approve of what he did, saving the King. He thought the physician probably would, for they were friends, weren't they? As much as a King could be friends with anyone.
Would Arthur send him away, when he inevitably found out about wings and magic? Or would he send for the executioner? Merlin took the few steps up to his own bedroom and pushed open the door. He saved Arthur's father today, not the king.
There was a jug of water on his bedside table which Merlin didn't remember putting there. Eyeing it, he thought Gaius must have put it there before he left, and the thought brought another lump to his throat.
Merlin undressed without touching the cup, pulling his nightshirt over his wings and then over his head. The concealment charm was still in place whilst he slept, Merlin not wanting to take the risk of someone bursting in for whatever reason and discovering his secret. He flexed the wings in a slow stretched, clambering onto his bed and punching his flimsy pillow into a more comfortable shape.
He blew out the candle.
There was a shuffling sound and before Merlin could react, someone slammed his head hard into the wall. Light exploded behind his eyes, blinding him. Stunned, he reached instinctively for his magic, but he felt oddly sluggish and slow. Someone was using magic against him. His wings were pinned to the bed beneath him and a hand was gripping his jaw with bruising fingers, forcing them open.
"Gai-"
He felt the cold smooth edge of a bottle on his lower lip before a potion was being emptied into his mouth. He tried to spit it out but the other hand smothered him, and he couldn't breathe, forced to swallow the entire bottle.
Merlin choked. It tasted strangely sweet and bitter at the same time, the smell faint as it reached his nose. His thoughts seemed to be travelling slowly… slowly…
A voice, from far away, a voice he recognised, saying I will teach you everything I know…
"So careless, Merlin. Not a single protection ward – all it took was for me to weave a spell of silence and concealment and you never even noticed."
He struggled, trying to manoeuvre a punch Arthur had taught him, but his arm was a leaden weight he could barely lift.
"No…" he slurred. He wasn't capable of much else. The world was blurring alarmingly, his magic hazy and unreachable and he was so…tired. He could feel, as if it were happening to a body that did not belong to him, Edwin pulling him from his bed, a foreign magic tangling itself about his legs like a snake. He tried kicking out, but something tightened around his throat, threatening, cutting off his air for a few long seconds.
"Come with me," said Edwin in a hypnotising voice.
And Merlin did.
*
A/N: Who said I was going to follow canon? :P