Hidden Motives


A/N: Thank you for so many lovely responses. They inspired me to do a lot of writing over the weekend and I'm quite far ahead with the story now (chapter 9), so I though I'd post this chapter a little sooner than I'd intended to for all you lovely people! Please let me know what you think of this one as well!


Chapter 5

They had argued with him for a long time. Well, Lancelot had argued; Gaius had stood by and watched, seemingly getting older and more tired with every word of refusal that left Merlin's lips. He knew better than to try and change Merlin's mind; knew that it would be futile. Lancelot didn't seem to realise this, or if he did he refused to accept it.

The knight had told him that he could just leave Camelot until the sorcerer was found; go far away so that he was no threat to Arthur, but Merlin had refused. There was every chance that he could come back at any time. The sorcerer would no doubt be watching him for an escape, especially if he did know about Merlin's magical abilities. All it would take was one command to the earth spirits that were currently a part of him and he would be heading back to Camelot with murder in his mind.

Admitting defeat on that point, Lancelot had switched to a more Merlin centred solution, suggesting that Gaius could just keep him knocked out with sleeping draughts at all times until the sorcerer was found. Merlin had countered that argument just as easily. The sorcerer would be watching him and could reverse the effects of a sleeping potion whenever he wished. On top of that, Merlin's body seemed to have an ability to fight the effects of said potions much more quickly than an ordinary person. His magic seemed to react to anything that made him vulnerable; it worked instinctively for him whether he was conscious of it or not.

More arguments rose on Lancelot's lips, but Merlin answered and refuted each one. He had made up his mind, he had considered the possibilities and he knew that this course of action was the only one open to him if he wanted to stand firm in his destiny and ensure that Arthur made it to the throne. Throughout his exchange with the, by now, angry knight, Merlin had remained calm, but Lancelot had soon changed tactics.

'Do you know what this will do to Arthur?' he asked; his eyes unusually hard. For a skilled warrior and killer, Lancelot rarely showed any aggression outside of the battlefield. He was gentle and caring by nature and his anger only showed the extent of his desperation.

'It doesn't matter,' Merlin replied, a bite coming into his tone, because that was the one factor that he was trying to ignore.

'It does matter. If you make him watch you die because of him, he will never let the guilt go.'

'I'm a danger to him; he doesn't need to feel guilty. Besides, it's Uther, not Arthur, who's ordering my execution.'

'Do you think Arthur will make that distinction?' Lancelot asked in frustration. 'If you do this, he will carry it with him for the rest of his life. You know how much he cares about you. I don't care if he doesn't show it. You know he does; we all do.'

'I know,' Merlin answered back, his voice sharper.

'Then how can you do it to him?'

'How is sparing his feelings going to help him if he's dead?' Merlin asked.

'Merlin; you can fight this. Now you know what's happened, you can fight it.'

'I don't know that for sure and it isn't worth the risk.'

'Merlin-' he was angry now. It was unlike him to continue into confrontations. He and Merlin rarely, if ever, fell out, and Lancelot was always one to know when to stop. He had insight into the feelings of other people; he knew when they were being pushed too far and right now he knew that he was pushing Merlin beyond what he could cope with. Merlin realised that he had to put an end to it.

'Don't tell me that it might not happen!' Merlin told him, authority coming into his voice. 'I won't risk it. I can not live my life knowing that one day I could kill Arthur without even having a clue what I'm doing. Don't you understand?' he asked, when Lancelot made to argue again. 'I am more powerful than the whole of Camelot's army put together. If somebody puts visions into my mind, changes my perception of the truth and uses my abilities, nothing you do will be able to protect Arthur or Camelot. And I can not risk waking up one day to find that I have destroyed the home and the people that I love. I won't do it. Nothing you say will change my mind. I will lay down my life to make sure it never happens.'

Lancelot looked at him then, his resolve crumbling. Merlin could see it in his eyes, could see the fight going on in his mind. He shook his head and bent to pick up the sack that he had brought in.

'I'm not giving up yet.'

'This isn't me giving up. This is me winning,' Merlin told him. He shook his head again, opened his mouth a couple of times and then seemed to think better of it. He looked at Gaius.

'The guard will be back any moment. I'll give you two a few minutes.' With that he walked up to the bars, reached out and placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. He still wasn't happy with the plan -that much was completely obvious- but the meaning behind the gesture was clear: I am your friend. Merlin nodded his thanks and then the knight walked down the corridor.

Merlin watched him go, unwilling to look into Gaius' face, but in the end he had no choice. His friend's eyes were heavy with emotion: sadness, anger, acceptance, pride. They were all emotions that Merlin had seen in him hundreds of times before, but never with such potency and such a sense of inevitable grief.

'You understand don't you Gaius?' he asked quietly.

'Yes, Merlin, I do. That doesn't make it any easier to cope with.'

'You know, better than anyone, how hard I've tried to keep Arthur safe. How much I've done to try and guide him to being the best King he can be.'

'I know.'

'I can't destroy it all because somebody puts a version of reality in my head where Arthur's the enemy.'

'I know,' Gaius repeated again, the same expression in his voice; the understanding that Merlin so desperately needed, but also the pain that he hated to be causing.

'I need you to do something for me,' Merlin continued after a few moments' silence. Gaius nodded his head and waited. 'I need you to show the spell to Arthur; the real one. That way he'll understand the danger.'

'I doubt that will be enough to convince him. He doesn't see you as a physical threat; he'll find a way of convincing Uther to keep you imprisoned until the sorcerer can be found.'

'Then you need to tell him that you think the sorcerer is close by and capable of getting me out of this cell. Which he probably is,' Merlin pointed out. 'Even if I couldn't do it myself, that would still be a valid argument.' Gaius stared at him for several long moments. 'Please.'

'Very well,' he nodded heavily, a sigh in his voice.

'And, if you can, try and stop Arthur from coming to see me. I don't know what I'd do if…'

'I can't guarantee that I'll be able to, but I'll try.'

'Thank you.'

More silence, more barely concealed desperation on both of their faces.

'I'm sorry,' Merlin eventually said, feeling his throat catch on the words. He opened his mouth to carry on, to try and explain again, but this time the words got stuck in his throat and his vision blurred. He backed up in his cell and leant against the wall, feeling tears begin to fall down his face. He couldn't look at Gaius, couldn't watch the man who was his father in all but blood have to say goodbye to him again.

'Open the door, Merlin,' he said gently. Merlin didn't even have to utter the spell; all it took was a few clear thoughts and a flick of his hand. Gaius slowly made his way in, but still Merlin didn't look up; it was too painful. How many times had he done this to his mentor now? He had lost count.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. But moments later, Gaius was pulling him into a strong embrace.

'So am I,' he said, 'but this is not your fault.' He pulled back and held Merlin at arm's length. 'You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm so proud of you, my boy.'

That had been a few hours ago now. Since then, Merlin had been trying not to think about too much. All his focus was on trying to notice whether he was being influenced by magic. His plan would be for nothing if the sorcerer impressed a false picture in his head now and made him kill Arthur. But nothing happened. There was nothing but him and the silence.

And Arthur. The thought of the Prince had been enough to make Merlin reconsider his plan on more than one occasion. A nervous expectation was beginning to fill him. Surely Arthur knew what he intended to do now, which meant that at any moment the Prince might storm in hear and begin calling him every name under the sun before getting him to change his mind. Gaius was right; there was no way he would be able to stop Arthur from coming down here if the Prince made up his mind to do so. Merlin had been preparing himself for it, working out what he would say to ensure that the Prince went away quickly. Chances were that at the moment, the sorcerer was far away; avoiding the hundreds of patrols that were after him, but Merlin didn't want to take any chances. And so, when the prison corridor resounded with the sound of footsteps, he sat up straighter and took several deep breaths, going over his rehearsed lines, but his visitor was not the one he expected.

'Gwen!' he called in surprise, but the joy in his voice and face soon died away as she looked at him and then promptly began to cry. She didn't try and speak, just looked at him and shook her head. He moved over to the bars and put a hand out to hold hers. She took it and then knelt to the ground, pulling him with her until they were at eye level.

'Who told you?' he asked gently.

'I went and asked Gaius?' she said, her voice croaking against the tears. 'I don't want you to do this, Merlin,' she said desperately. All arguments that he'd been rehearsing and going over evaporated; he hadn't thought about the emotions that would go with the conversation, not Gwen's anyway. He had planned for Arthur's response: primarily that would mean anger and a lot of shouting, along with a just about hidden desperation and denial. He had not been prepared for Gwen's heartfelt and heartbroken response to the plan.

'I need to protect-'

'I know,' she nodded. 'I know that; Gaius told me everything you said. I didn't come hear to try and change your mind.' She looked at him, and then reached up her free hand to join her first in enclosing his. 'You're so brave Merlin. And you're so good to Arthur.'

'Not as brave as you are,' he smiled. 'And I'm definitely not as good to Arthur as you are.' She managed a shaky smile at that. 'Does he know?' Merlin asked after a slight pause. She nodded her head slowly. 'I went to see him to ask if they'd found anything and Lancelot was in there asking him to try again to put back the date of your…' she tried to finish the sentence, but just shook her head, silent tears falling.

'It's alright,' he assured her, squeezing her hand. 'I'm fine.' She nodded. 'When you say try again, do you mean that Uther has already refused?' She nodded silently. 'And what did Arthur say?'

'Nothing really. Lancelot told him that you wanted the…that tomorrow you weren't going to try and appeal to the King, and then he went to rejoin the searches for the sorcerer. Arthur was…' she frowned. 'I don't know. He just seemed shocked, unsure. He didn't know what to do. He went and saw Gaius and I went with him. That's when he told us both what you said. He showed Arthur the spell and told him not to go and see you.'

'I suppose he didn't agree.'

'He didn't say anything; it's like he's…aimless…confused. I don't think he expected this at all.'

'Where is he now?' Merlin asked. Regardless of whether the plan had shocked Arthur, he still would have expected the Prince to march straight down here and begin yelling at him.

'I don't know; he said he had to go and think. He still didn't seem to really know what to do or say. I stayed to talk to Gaius for a bit, but then I thought I should go and find Arthur to see if he was alright.'

'And was he?'

'I don't know. I couldn't find him. Some of the servants said they'd seen him heading towards the armoury, but no-one's seen him since. I don't know why he'd go there.'

'He likes to hit things with swords when he's angry,' Merlin shrugged.

'I thought that, so I went to the training grounds, but no-one's seen him.'

Merlin frowned; if Arthur wanted to be on his own, he usually hid himself away in his chambers or went hunting. He voiced the suggestion to Gwen.

'I can check the stables in a bit; I'll be able to see if his horse has gone.'

'I wouldn't worry, Gwen. He'll appear when he's ready. And besides, the longer he stays away, the last likely it is that he'll come to see me.'

'You know he will.'

'It's too dangerous.'

'Even if the sorcerer does let you out, you're not going to be a match for Arthur,' Gwen pointed out. Merlin said nothing. 'You need to talk to him.'

'I don't really know what to say.'

'He will understand,' she assured him, 'even if he says he doesn't. He'll understand.'

'How do you know?' She looked at him and smiled.

'Because if the positions were reversed, he'd do exactly the same for you.'

A tearful goodbye ensued. All Merlin wanted to do was open his cell door again and hug her properly. Gwen had been with him since his very first day in Camelot; she had often been one of his co-conspirators during his many implementations of foolhardy plans. She had always been there with a gentle word -or a less gentle one when the situation called for it. A difficult hug through thick metal bars didn't seem to do justice to his feelings; it didn't show her the depth of his gratitude for who she had been to him in the last few years.

She left quickly and Merlin counted up the goodbyes he had said. Three so far. And there were several that he would never get to say: the knights, especially Gwaine, not unless they all marched down here themselves, but he had a feeling they would throw themselves into the search; determined to find the sorcerer so that goodbyes would be rendered unnecessary. Merlin didn't blame them for it. He knew the truth of their friendship. But the hardest goodbye was still to come, and he guessed it would be soon. He would not be able to stop Arthur from coming down here. He only hoped that the sorcerer was unaware of the Prince's movements.

How would he say goodbye? From what Merlin knew about Arthur, the Prince could refuse to give any sort of goodbye, just to make the point that he wasn't giving up and he was cross with Merlin for doing just that. It certainly wouldn't be straightforward and to the point. Nothing ever was when it came to him and Arthur.

Time wore on, the afternoon light soon dulling to a dusky amber. And still Arthur didn't appear. Merlin began to hope that he wouldn't turn up at all; that would give more assurance of his safety. Perhaps the thought of saying goodbye was too much for Arthur. He had never been any good at sharing his true feelings. Even Merlin -who was easily Arthur's closest confidant and had been witness to the majority of the Prince's major emotional traumas- could count on his fingers the number of times Arthur had given him an insight into his deepest thoughts, although in more recent years Merlin had begun to see an easier openness in his friend. It had given him hope that soon their relationship would move into the true friendship that Kilgharrah had hinted at so often. Merlin had been looking forward to it, had been waiting to see it develop and to see the two of them shape a future for Albion.

And now he never would. That was the grief that was tearing at him; all the things that he had been working for that he would not be able to see the results of. He would never watch Arthur become king; he would never see Guinevere become queen. He would never see magic being brought back to the Kingdom; Arthur would never even know that his friend had been the most powerful warlock of the age.

Funny; Merlin had always assumed that one day Arthur would find out. He had made assumptions on the way future events would pan out based on the results of that revelation. And all that worry had been for nothing. Arthur had never been going to find out. That too made Merlin sad. He knew it was stupid; chances were that Arthur would hate him for a long time if he ever found out about the magic, but it was such a big part of who Merlin was that he had hoped one day for Arthur to share in it. Until he did, he would never truly know who Merlin was or what made him the person he was. Now he never would.

The unfairness of the situation hit him full force in a way it hadn't done since he had found out what had been done to him; the enchantment that had been placed on him. Why was it that this sorcerer, whoever he or she was, had decided to use Merlin as their assassin? Why had they not had the nerve to complete their attack on their own or with someone else? Anybody else would have been fine; they could have been kept locked up and under guard and that would have been the only thing needed. Even if the sorcerer unlocked their cell, they would still have to get past the whole of Camelot's forces in order to harm Arthur. Meanwhile, Merlin would have been tracking down the sorcerer and finding a way to get him or her to break the enchantment, even if it meant killing them.

But this; this was the one scenario in which Merlin couldn't help. He could protect Arthur from a lot of things and he had done just that in the past: dragons, witches, enchantments, poisons, to name but a few. But he couldn't protect Arthur from this. And if that was the case, then his purpose within the Prince's life had been lost.

It was with those sad musings still going round his mind that he heard the sound of the prison door opening at the far end of the corridor. He moved to the bars of his cell and peered as far as he could in the direction of the sound. It was Arthur.

Merlin took a deep breath; he had to make this conversation count.


.

.

.

.

.