Hidden Motives

A/N: Thank you muchly for the reviews! I've been so excited about posting this chapter. I tried to force myself to wait a few more days, just so that I gave myself chance to write a little more of the story, but as you can see, it didn't happen. I have no will power. It works out better for those of you who wanted a quick update however! The end of this chapter is the first part I wrote of the whole story! So, please, please let me know what you think!

Chapter 7

It became evident to Merlin straightaway why he had had no last visitors to his cell that morning. There were guards posted everywhere around the corridors leading to the dungeons. They were at every corner, beside ever door; all of them standing alert and ready. Evidently, Uther had more than believed Merlin's threat was true and had decided to ensure that no-one was getting in or out of the dungeons until he was dead. In a way, Merlin was glad. He didn't know how he would have coped with seeing people, especially in the state he had been. When it came down to it, he had said his goodbye's to Gwen and Gauis, and even Lancelot to a certain extent. He wouldn't want to draw out their pain anymore by forcing them through another emotional parting.

But it was the others that he thought of as he was lead out of the dungeons, the hands of the guards firmly on his arms with an almost bruising grip –they were taking no chances. The Knights. Although he wasn't particularly close to Elyan, Percival or Leon, he still would have liked to have said goodbye to them, to tell them that he thought they were doing an excellent job of protecting Arthur and Camelot and of showing the nobility of Camelot's knights, despite the fact that two of them weren't of noble birth. Gwaine, of course, was another who he had not had chance to say goodbye to. He was sure that the man would have come to see him today had his way not been blocked. Merlin had no doubt that he had searched with unrivalled intensity to find a way of proving and restoring Merlin's innocence. Perhaps by the time he realised that Merlin's plan was inevitable, it had been too late to come and say goodbye. Merlin would make sure that he sought him out in the crowd.

And then there was Arthur. That was the regret that was weighing most heavily on his mind as he continued forwards. They had reached the upper corridors and the bright morning sun streamed through the windows, almost blinding compared to the dull light he had grown accustomed to. It made his eyes water and he blinked furiously to clear them, worried that they would be mistaken for tears.

Arthur. They hadn't parted on bad terms yesterday, but it wasn't the goodbye that Merlin so desperately wanted. Not least because he knew how much he would have hurt Arthur with the stunt he had pulled last night in getting the guard to report him to Uther. He wanted to apologise for that, wanted to make Arthur understand that he had done it for the right reasons and that he wasn't just being his usual disobedient self. On top of that, was their last conversation; it wasn't representative of their relationship; it didn't allow them to remind themselves of the ease in which they spent time in each other's company; it hadn't given a throwback to their many times of laughter and shared amusement; it wasn't a salute to their constant bickering and banter that ultimately spoke only of affection, even if it was disguised behind ridiculous comments and insults. No, their conversation last night had been unusual and unfamiliar and lacking all of their usual camaraderie. He wished he could go back and do it over. He wanted to say thank you to the Prince for making him see that his perseverance had all been worth it; he wanted to tell Arthur how proud he was of him, even if the Prince would only take it the wrong way.

And he wanted to hear Arthur's side of that conversation; wanted to listen to one of Arthur's nonchalant backhanded comments which actually spoke of a deep appreciation and gratitude. That was what he had always envisioned their last conversation being like, and yet it had been nothing of the sort. He realised, sadly, that it was a regret that he would carry with him for the rest of his life, even if that life was only to continue for a few more minutes.

The walk up to the courtyard was quick, much quicker than he had expected. He'd always thought that a final walk would go slowly, as if your mind was trying to hold on to your life, giving you the chance to take in a few last images in detail, or give you the chance to listen to sounds of birds singing, the wind rustling, the murmur of voices, and appreciate them one last time, but before he knew it, he was heading down the final corridor which led to the courtyard. Perhaps the naturalness of death meant that your mind was drawn to it; not wanting to prolong life any longer once its end was inevitable.

It was as he reached the doors which led out onto the courtyard that he unexpectedly met the first person that he had wanted to find in the crowd. Gwen stood at the door, waiting for him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she wrung her hands together, twisting and turning the favour that was held in them. She watched Merlin's every step and he managed to smile at her, just a small smile –it was all he could manage-, but she returned it, with a sad smile of her own that made her eyes look even heavier than they already did.

She stepped forwards as the guards approached and then looked at them.

'Please,' she whispered. Much to Merlin's surprise, the guards, after a moment's hesitation, stopped, although their grip on him didn't loosen. Gwen had that effect on people. It was hard to refuse someone who radiated such gentleness and empathy in every move she made. She moved towards him slowly, trying to stretch out the moment, and then, as best she could with the guards in the way, she hugged him. With his hands bound behind him, Merlin was unable to reciprocate as much as he wanted, but he put his head down on hers and whispered a thank you to her.

'We'll look after them, I promise. Arthur and Gaius.' she replied, moving back to look at him, her eyes strong and full of love. 'I'll really miss you.' He smiled at her and kissed her on the top of her head. She reached up and carefully folded the favour that she had in her hand into his neckerchief and then kissed him on the cheek. With that, the guards gave Merlin another push forward and Gwen reluctantly stepped to one side. Merlin kept his eyes fixed on her for as long as he could; trying to convey his thanks to her for everything.

Soon however, she was out of sight and Merlin felt himself being pushed out of the doors and made to stand still at the top of the stairs of the courtyard while Uther made his entrance onto the balcony. Merlin had seen the courtyard set up for execution on several occasions -the worst time being when it had been set up for Gaius- but never like this. Never with such clarity. Every detail seemed to be driving its way into his mind, until the whole place seemed so real that it became unreal.

In the centre, stood the place of execution. Merlin was surprised to see that a gallows had been set up; he had been expecting to be burnt at the stake, but then they only killed sorcerers that way and as far as anyone knew Merlin wasn't one. A gallows at least would be quicker and less painful. It did of course mean that he wouldn't be able to see anything in those last few seconds; a sack would be placed over his head. He didn't like the thought of that, but equally he didn't want his friends to have to watch his face in those final moments. In the end, he decided if he was going to pick out of the two deaths, the gallows was better; he had just always thought that if he was executed it would be because they had found out about his magic; being burnt at the stake was what he had prepared himself for.

It wasn't on a very tall platform –only a metre or so off the ground-, but it would provide everyone with a good view. And there were a lot of people. Beyond the rope, which swung lightly in the breeze, and the stool, which stood below, waiting to be pulled away, the courtyard was full. From the steps down to the gallows it was knights, soldiers and castle servants who lined the route, but beyond that, towards the gate into the city, the courtyard was filled with the city-folk. Men, women and children of all ages; the muted colours of their clothes looking almost bright in the light of the day. Merlin realised that the majority of them would have seen him with Arthur hundreds of times. What would they think when the charges were read? He forced the question from his mind. The people who mattered to him knew the truth.

Up on the balcony, Uther had appeared, dressed in his full kingly attire and looking every bit the monarch he had been a few months ago, rather than the despairing, helpless man that he had seemed to be of late. He stood looking down, his body turned slightly away as if he would not deign to face the prisoner fully. Arthur wasn't up there, however, and Merlin felt a small sense of relief at the fact. It would not seem right if Arthur was up their, seeming to condemn him as well. He would be in the crowds, close to the front, offering what little he could. Above them, Uther gave a nod and Merlin felt himself being pushed forwards.

Here it was then, the final journey he would take. But he rested in the knowledge that he wasn't taking it alone. No, definitely not alone. He saw Percival first, dressed in his full battle attire, standing tall and strong above his fellow knights. He looked at Merlin and gave him the smallest of nods. A nod of understanding; of respect. He understood why Merlin was doing what he was, even if he didn't like it. Merlin nodded back.

Then Elyan. The same eyes that had just looked at him when Gwen stepped forward now looked at him from her brother's face. There was the same sadness, the same attempt at reassurance. He could see it in the way Elyan lifted his arm and crossed it against his chest. A promise that he too would be there when Merlin couldn't be, to help the people he cared about. Leon copied the gesture when Merlin looked at him and then lowered his eyes before looking up again, a mark of respect from a knight to one in authority above him. Merlin echoed the gesture to all three of them.

It became harder after that. First was Lancelot, right next to Gwaine. The two watched him with completely different expressions on their faces. There was anger in Gwaine's; not at Merlin, but at the situation. He held himself stiffly, as if only the tinniest of voices in his head was stopping him from jumping forward and pulling Merlin away from the situation. Indeed, as Merlin looked at them properly, Gwaine began to move forward and only Lancelot's hand enclosing tightly around the other man's forearm kept him still. Merlin shook his head imperceptibly at Gwaine and managed a small smile, trying to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't, of course, and both he and Gwaine knew that, but some of the fight went out of the knight and his face became still and sad. Merlin took the opportunity to smile at Lancelot; a thankful expression this time. A ghost of a smile slipped across Lancelot's face, an apology and an understanding and a goodbye.

He was led forward a few more paces, past Gaius, who watched him with a pride that shone in his face, but Merlin was soon stopped and made to turn round and face Uther. Much to his relief, Merlin found himself in the line of sight of Gaius, who, when everyone else turned to look at the King, stayed resolutely looking at Merlin. Merlin locked eyes with his mentor, feeling the shared gaze anchoring him and giving him strength as the King spoke his decree.

'Our land has oft' been plagued by those who would befriend and then betray us,' Uther began, his voice strong and sure. Merlin didn't look at him, he looked at Gaius whose gaze never faltered. 'And now this man, manservant to Prince Arthur, has proven to be such a person.' In front of Merlin, Gaius shook his head, a firmness in his eyes that said I know your loyalty, I will never forget. 'Two days ago, this traitor was discovered attempting to poison Prince Arthur.' A collective murmur rose up in the crowd; they evidently hadn't been expecting that. It was hard to tell from the low humming of voices, but Merlin got the impression that they didn't believe the charges. 'Since then he has made further threats against my son and also against myself.' This time Gauis' expression changed to affectionate scolding, he raised an eyebrow at Merlin, and the move was so familiar that Merlin almost forgot where he was. Almost.

'For his disloyalty,' Uther continued, 'for his deception and for the high treason he has committed, he will be hung and buried in an unmarked grave.' Through every accusation, Gaius held his gaze firmly, shaking his head, keeping his eyes firm and unwavering. And to the last comment he took a tiny step forward and mouthed, 'No,' to Merlin.

'Thank you,' Merlin whispered, hoping that if Gaius hadn't heard, he had at least managed to read his lips. Before anything else could pass between the two of them, Merlin was turned roughly around. Somewhere beyond the gallows, the drums began, and now time did seem to slow down as he searched out the one remaining person that he had to see before he died.

It didn't take him long to spot Arthur. He had only taken a single step when he did. He stood at the foot of the gallows, waiting for him, offering him support. Or at least that's what Merlin guessed. He suddenly became aware of all the friends around him. Gaius was still just behind him on his left, Lancelot, Gwaine and the others were a few steps further back. This was the closest he would ever come to having them all together in the same place. He searched Arthur's face trying to work out whether he was angry with Merlin for making sure that Uther would execute him, but there was no anger on his face, it was expressionless. Merlin looked at him intently, trying to read his emotions and eventually he saw the muscles in Arthur's face begin to mould themselves into something less neutral.

He felt relief run through him that, while they wouldn't have a verbal conversation, there would be some final form of communication between them.

But as he looked, and as he took a second step towards Arthur and the gallows, he felt his relief begin to trickle away and something different took its place. He realised with shock that it was fear, because Arthur's expression was not the stoic regret that he'd expected, or the final nod of friendship that he'd assumed the Prince's would use when looking at him. No. The man's lips curved into a smile. No, not a smile, not quite. It was smirk. Arthur was looking at him, smiling smugly at him, watching him with victorious self satisfaction.

Merlin faltered, and stopped in his walk, his foot stopping short of his third step. Up until now, Merlin had walked with no resistance at all and the sudden change took the guards by surprise. They halted as well, momentarily confused by his new hesitancy. Merlin felt the crowd bristle at the movement, but he barely noticed them. Something else had his attention entirely; a memory that had, over the last few days, been assumed to be lost, was slowly working its way back into Merlin's mind. Tiny pieces of it sliding into place, like threads of a tapestry being pulled through material to create a clear picture.

Merlin could feel the guards trying to move him on and couldn't compete with their strength. They ushered him forward. Two more steps. But the tapestry was nearly complete and Merlin could feel a chill running through his body, covering him and consuming him.

He'd been wrong. The revelation made him stop again. He'd been so wrong. There had been no poison; there had been no attempt on Arthur's life. He had lied. Neither of those things had happened. But there had been an imposter.

Merlin looked up again at the smirking Prince who watched him with hatred and contempt, a thinly veiled amusement winding its way into his features.

Feeling the weight of his mistake choking him, just as the noose would do in a few moments, Merlin allowed the last thread of the tapestry to slide into place; allowed the truth to fully settle into his mind.

The man in front of him wasn't Arthur.

.

.

.

.

.