A/N: Hello again, everyone. I want to apologize for the absurd amount of time I spent writing this next chapter. After the last chapter, I wanted something a little lighter, but I wasn't sure how to write it without it sounding cheesy. I'm not entirely sure I succeeded in that regard, anyway. Also, school has started, so I'll update as often as I can. Thank you to everyone who has supported this fic so far, it makes me so happy to know that people are reading my work. All mistakes are mine, as always.
Disclaimer: I do not have the privilege of claiming ownership to this wonderful show. Namaste.
4. Heights
Merlin woke up gently, layers of dreams falling softly away from his mind like feathers drifting on the breeze.
He opened his eyes to see the sun rising through the little window of his room in the Physician's chambers. The young warlock sat up in bed, a smile quirking the edges of his mouth.
The various colors were exquisite, and the light danced along the edges of the clouds, highlighting everything from soft pink to a vibrant orange, all seeping from the same dark blue color that the night sky always took.
Merlin went to the window and looked out. The others in the kingdom were beginning to stir, but everything was still relatively quiet, not yet into the hectic bustle of life. The raven-haired young man sighed in contentment, relishing the silence, only broken by the quiet snoring of Gaius in the next room. Still smiling to himself, Merlin started with the day's chores.
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Merlin walked briskly to the Prince's chambers, greeting everyone as he passed. The people of Camelot all smiled and called back to him, wishing him well. The day was clear and warm, and was promising to be a fall day which seemed to last forever, the kind that were so lovely you wished they would.
From the moment Merlin walked into his master's chambers, he could see that the young prince was in a mood. He was already awake for one, and he was scowling through the darkness, not having drawn the drapes himself. Merlin sighed inwardly, and mentally gathered every ounce of patience and composure that he could muster this early in the morning.
When Arthur was in a bad mood, it didn't bode well for anyone in the surrounding vicinity. Particularly so for the dark-haired manservant.
"Good morning, sire," Merlin said, crossing the room towards the window.
"I don't see what's so good about it," Arthur grumbled bad-naturedly, wincing as the sudden light from the window blinded him.
"It's a beautiful day, Camelot is peaceful, and the weather is very nice," Merlin tried for encouragement, watching the red and orange leaves dance on the autumn winds in the courtyard.
"That doesn't change the fact that I didn't sleep well," Arthur snapped. "Or that my room needs to be cleaned, my armor polished, the tack mended, the floors mopped, and the laundry done."
"As you wish, sire," Merlin said, carefully keeping his features arranged in a display of polite respect.
Arthur glared at him, as if his lack of argument was somehow vexing to him. Merlin just smiled, refusing to give in. It was a beautiful day, no matter what Arthur said, he decided. Arthur, suddenly sat straight up in bed. "Wait. What day is it?" he demanded.
"The fourteenth day of September," Merlin answered dutifully.
"Today is the meeting with the delegates from the Argentus kingdom!" Arthur yelled, flying out of bed, and hurriedly running behind the three-paneled changing screen, not bothering to order Merlin to help him dress.
"So?" Merlin asked, not understanding the reasoning.
"So, Merlin," Arthur shot him a glare as he hastily pulled a shirt on, "I was supposed to have written a speech welcoming them to our peaceful kingdom and recommending action for some policy changes that will affect both our lands! I haven't written it yet," he trailed off, now hopping on one foot as he struggled to put his boots on.
"Okay, well, we've still got a little time before the meeting later today," Merlin said reassuringly, trying to calm the agitated prince.
"I need you to go to the library and get me a book, Merlin," Arthur ordered distractedly, engaged in an epic battle with the buckles on his tunic. Merlin rolled his eyes and gently knocked Arthur's hands away, deftly fastening the toggles with long, nimble fingers.
"The book is titled, "Principles of Decorous Statecraft: A Definitive History of Camelot's Political and Procedural Rights and Practices in Regards to Adjacent Kingdoms and Contiguous Legislature," Arthur continued, running a hand through his hair.
"Dreadfully boring, I know," he acknowledged, catching the bewildered look on Merlin's face. "But I need that book to finish writing my speech, because it will give me information on exactly what I can and cannot offer the delegates in our agreement."
There was no reply from Merlin for a few moments. Then, "You mean to tell me that you can remember the title of a book so unwieldy, and yet you don't have sufficient knowledge of the neighboring kingdoms for a three minute welcoming speech?" he asked incredulously, a slow grin spreading across his features.
Arthur's scowl darkened as he caught the irony in the statement. "Now, Merlin!" he shouted, hurrying to buckle on his sword.
"Well, maybe I should get started on the chores first—" Merlin began and then had to duck as a metal plate came flying at his head. Taking this as a sign of extreme stress, Merlin set out for the library before Arthur decided to come at him with a sword.
When he reached the steps of the library, he took one last, longing look at the sky. The library would be dry and dusty, with none of the life and energy that the day had. He slipped quietly through the door, boots hardly making a sound on the stone steps.
He took a few steps forward, uncomfortably mindful of how loud his steps were, echoing throughout the building. Everywhere, there were tall bookshelves stacked with heavy tomes and treatises on every imaginable subject. They lined up neatly in immeasurable columns, silent sentries waiting. The sight of all those white, soundless rows was unsettling. The high ceilings and lack of windows reminded Merlin of a forgotten cave. Or a tomb, he thought, and a chill ran down his spine.
"Hello?" he called, not wanting to surprise Tercius, the Head Librarian. The man was ancient; much older than even Gaius. He had a bad habit of sneaking up on the people who came in, seeming to materialize from between the columns, then disappearing back into the shadows with a swirl of dust. Worse, the library was gigantic, and tracking down the book he needed without Tercius would take Merlin several weeks. One was very likely to get lost, only to have to call out to the enraged librarian to lead them to the exit.
"Tercius? I need to get a book for the prince," Merlin called, taking a step further. The echoes of his voice eerily amplified were his only answer. "Please, it's urgent!" Merlin called, desperation coloring his tone. Suddenly, he heard the rush of a cloak, and whirled around to see Tercius standing behind him, from nowhere.
The Librarian's hands gnarled over the heavy cane he carried. Legend said that he didn't need it to walk; he hit people who got lost or mistreated the books under his protection. Merlin gulped, staring at the small but intimidating figure in front of him.
"Well, boy?" Tercius demanded. "I haven't all day, and neither do you." He cackled as if he had said something extraordinarily witty, and Merlin suddenly wished he were somewhere else—anywhere else—besides locked into a creaking old building with a half-mad old man.
"I—I'm looking for a book on kingdom procedure," Merlin began. "It has a rather…cumbersome title," he said, unable to remember the exact wording.
"Many of them do," Tercius snapped, losing patience. "I'll take you to the section, but your description is much too broad to find it myself. You'll have to do that," Tercius said, setting off into the nearest column of books without waiting to see if Merlin was following or not.
Merlin hurried after him, stunned at the speed Tercius was able to travel. They walked through the endless rows for some time, the way lit by the dim light coming from the small candle the Librarian had produced from his pocket. The young warlock began to feel that time had stopped, and he would continue walking those identical, white rows of bookshelves, never finding what he needed. Abruptly, Tercius stopped. "Your book is somewhere on the top of this shelf, boy," Tercius said irritably. "You are permitted to find it, but mind the ladders; they're quite rickety. And one other thing," he said, leaning closer to Merlin, who fought the urge to shrink back.
"If you damage a single book in any way, shape, or form, I'll see that you wander the halls of my library for eternity. " He paused for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear. "There's someone at the door, I have to go. If you get the urge to try anything clever, think about the size of this building. You'll never find your way out alone, boy. Remember that," the old man grinned evilly, then stepped back into the darkness of a row. Merlin, wide-eyed in terror, rushed forward to find Tercius, but it was too late; the decrepit man had disappeared again. Merlin, shaking, turned back around to face his shelf of books to search, and groaned in frustration. There were easily seven hundred books on the top shelf alone, all of them looking so old they might disintegrate when touched. Fighting despair, Merlin closed his eyes. Suddenly, he had the answer.
"Áscian." Merlin felt his eyes briefly burn with energy, the magic flowing from his fingertips. The magic sorted through the books quickly, until it found the correct one, about three-fourths of the way down the shelf. Merlin didn't want to risk using magic to get the book down because he knew that Tercius had frighteningly good hearing, and could reappear without warning. The last thing he wanted was to get executed because his secret had been revealed by a senile old librarian with a bad temper.
With a fair amount of trepidation, Merlin put a foot on the lowest rung of a ladder. The wood whined lowly under the small portion of his weight, and Merlin quickly removed his foot. Sending a quick prayer out to whichever deity of the Old Religion was listening, Merlin stepped onto the ladder, holding his breath. It creaked alarmingly, but held. He continued up, the ladder groaning and making minute cracking noises as he climbed perilously higher. His fingertips ached with the tension of white-knuckled force, terrified that the ladder would break at any moment, and painfully aware of how high he now was from the ground. A random thought popped into his head, something an old man had once said to him while on an errand in town for Arthur. "Seek not the things that are too high for thee," he had admonished solemnly, then turned and walked away.
Merlin was sure that finding a book on the top shelf of the library had not been what the old man had meant, but it fit the situation quite nicely, and Merlin almost laughed.
Seek not the things that are too high for thee. Arthur wouldn't accept that, and neither would his faithful manservant.
Finally, he reached the top shelf, and started ghosting his fingers over the spines of the ancient books. He saw the one he needed, and groaned. The book had to be at least five inches thick, and looked heavy. Getting it down the ladder without falling to his doom was going to be an ordeal in itself.
Steeling himself, he grabbed the spine of the book, and pulled to no avail: the book was stuck. Years of sitting in one place on the same shelf had adhered the book to the surface of the shelf, and the dust that arose from the slight disturbance was blinding.
Tears streaming down his face, coughing, Merlin tugged on the book again. He felt it move a little, but his heart lurched when he felt the ladder sway disturbingly under him. Anxious to fulfill his task, he yanked on the book harder still.
The book came free, but the weight was unbalanced in his hand, and he had to lean backwards in order to save the book from falling from his grasp. Unfortunately, the ladder was stressed past its breaking point, pardon the pun. The ladder gave way with a loud CRACK! and plunged both the book and the hapless Merlin towards the ground.
As he fell, Merlin's head connected hard with the edge of a lower shelf, leaving him dazed in midair, unable to even think about casting a spell to save himself. Arthur stepped into the row, just in time to see his manservant hit the ground hard with a sickening noise, eyes closed.
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Arthur stood transfixed, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. He had come to the library to see if Merlin had found the book. He had been stopped by Tercius, who had told Arthur with no small amount of contempt that Merlin had not been able to remember the title and was searching for it.
Arthur had demanded that Tercius take him to where Merlin was, but Tercius had refused to be rushed, and Arthur had consented to the time that Tercius had taken, persuaded in large part by the numerous threats involving a certain wooden cane carried by the cantankerous guardian of the books. Eventually, he had led the prince to the same section, grumbling all the while about arrogant young men who thought they could traipse into a library looking for books.
Arthur had snorted. Heaven forbid, he thought sardonically. The librarian had spookily disappeared without a word, and Arthur had stepped between what felt like the billionth row of shelves when he saw Merlin.
Arthur rushed to Merlin's side, checking for a pulse, feeling enormously relieved when he found it. Arthur dully noticed that the book lay near him, just inches from his servant's outstretched hand. "Merlin!" he shouted, giving the young man's shoulders a firm shake. Merlin's body was limp in Arthur's hands, head lolling to the side. "Merlin, wake up!" Arthur said in a commanding tone, hoping this would shake his manservant out of it. Merlin remained oblivious throughout the ministrations, increasing the young prince's concern.
"Clumsy fool," a voice came from behind Arthur. Arthur jumped, hand going to his belt, were the hilt of his sword was. Seeing the hunched form of the Librarian, his hand fell back to his side.
"Good lord," Arthur muttered, not wanting to admit how much the old man had startled him.
The old man snickered, as if he had heard Arthur's thoughts, and stepped forward to examine Merlin.
"Hey—" Arthur began, not wanting the old man to touch Merlin.
"Oh, please. Who do you think helped Gaius find the books on medicine he needed when he was but a young man training to be the Physician, boy?" The old man said testily.
"Who do you think talked to him about the content in these books, helping him further his education? I know just as much about medicine as Gaius. I daresay maybe even a little more," the old man stated, running his spidery fingers carefully over the cut on Merlin's forehead, then examining the bump on the back.
"Your friend will come to in a little while," he announced, standing up. "Tell Gaius to give him a mixture of tripweed and coltsfoot. He'll be tired and disoriented for a little while, but he should be alright in the morning. I would give him the day off, was I in your place. Of course, I wouldn't be such a conceited dunce in the first place," he continued, muttering to himself.
The effort was entirely meaningless, because noise traveled extraordinarily well in the large building, and the young prince caught every word.
Arthur frowned, but didn't say anything. "Is there anything you can do to help us—" Arthur trailed off as he saw that Tercius had once again vanished. Fighting the urge to curse, Arthur settled himself down to wait until Merlin regained consciousness. After a few minutes, Merlin began to shift, moving slightly. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused. Slowly, they began to clear. "Arthur?" he asked fuzzily. "Wha's goin on?"
"You had a pretty nasty fall, you idiot," Arthur said, tone belaying the heat the words held. "You alright?"
Merlin's brow furrowed, as if he was trying to remember the answer to an especially hard question. "I…think so?" he said, making it sound like a question. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Come on, Merlin." He grabbed the raven-haired man's hand and hauled him to his feet. Merlin swayed, leaning heavily on Arthur.
"Let's get out of here," Arthur said, unnerved by the oppressive silence of the crypt-like building. "Don't forget…..forget the book," Merlin said, still not quite in the present time.
Arthur scooped up the book, then started the arduous process of finding his way out of the labyrinthine rows of shelves. Fortunately, Arthur had kept a small scrap of flint in his pocket, making small discreet markings on the shelves so that he could find his way back without Tercius' help if he needed to. The light was bad, but eventually, he found the trail of his markings, and followed them patiently to the exit with Merlin in tow, still heavily leaning on him.
They made it to the exit without incident, and Tercius was absent from his place at the front desk. Arthur was immeasurably grateful for this fact, and burst through the door of the library. He was blinded by the mid-morning sun, and quickly moved towards Gaius' chambers.
The cut above Merlin's eye was still bleeding profusely, and the injured young man suddenly started giggling.
"What are you laughing about?" Arthur asked, baffled.
"The old man—he told me not to seek things too high for me," Merlin answered, still snickering.
"Old man...Tercius told you that?" Arthur said, trying to avoid crashing into a passing hay cart.
"No, the other old man," Merlin said, as if it was perfectly obvious. "I thought he was talking about it philosophically, to stay humble. Knowing your place, not to wonder about things beyond the sky. Beyond the stars. I like stars. Stars are pretty," Merlin mused, making absolutely no sense in his ramblings.
"Are you seeing stars?" Arthur asked, torn between laughing and running for Gaius immediately.
"Not right now. It's morning," Merlin replied, sounding completely confused as to why Arthur would ask such a stupid question. "I saw them when I fell though. Lots of stars, all different colors, and beautiful patterns…" he rambled on, losing more and more coherency every second.
Arthur picked up the pace, and they made it to Gaius' chambers. Arthur pushed open the door, and Gaius looked up to see Merlin being supported by the Prince.
"God, Merlin, not again." Gaius rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
"Arthur got yelled at by the librarian," Merlin said, not sounding the least bit repentant.
Gaius raised an eyebrow at Arthur, who was getting tired of feeling intimidated by old men.
"He fell while fetching a book for me," Arthur informed Gaius, who was wiping the blood from the cut on Merlin's face.
"How far did he fall?" Gaius asked, looking at Merlin, who was still smiling peacefully.
Arthur hesitated. He didn't know how Gaius would react, and didn't want to be hit with a book. Old men were prone to hitting younger men with painful objects.
"Arthur." Not a request then.
"Arthur."
"Forty feet or so," Arthur said, bracing himself for an attack.
"Forty feet?" Gaius yelled.
Arthur winced. "I had just reached him when I saw him hit the ground. Tercius came and said he would be alright, that I just had to bring him to you. He said to give him a mixture of coltsfoot and…and tripweed," he said, floundering for a moment.
Gaius' eyebrow shot up again. "Tripweed and coltsfoot? Are you sure?"
Arthur nodded firmly.
Gaius turned to the bench and started mixing herbs together, forgetting that Arthur was even there.
Arthur looked at Merlin, blissfully unaware of what was going on.
"Hey, Arthur," he said suddenly.
"Yeah?" Arthur asked apprehensively.
"Why did you look like that when-when we walked past the front desk? You looked so scared," he said, snickering now.
Arthur pulled himself up straighter and said with all the dignity he could muster, "Tercius is scary."
Merlin burst into wild, uncontrollable gales of laughter, and Arthur swore he could hear Gaius chuckling from the back room.
"I'm leaving now," Arthur called, making sure Gaius could hear. "Tomorrow, I expect Merlin to be early. And I'm giving him double chores to make up for everything he missed today," he added.
The threat fell flat when Merlin's laughter continued, free and unabated.
Arthur stepped out of the chambers smiling.