Disclaimer: I don't own it. Not Merlin, not Angel, not any of the characters. No money is made, yada, yada, yada
As usual, many thanks to dieticlast for being my beta-reader. Without his help, the story would be noticeably less readable.
The Ruins of My Kingdom to Come
By Alkeni
Chapter 17: The Witchfinder Falls
Aredian wasted no time in getting down to the main event.
Well, that was perhaps how he saw it. From Wesley's perspective, Aredian was still beating around the bush.
His mind flashed back to Faith's brutal grin as she hit him the first time...
Now, we've only done one of the five basic torture groups. We've done blunt - but that still leaves sharp, cold, hot and loud. Have a preference?
The look of almost...orgasmic pleasure on her face when she cut him, threatened him with the homemade flamethrower right before Angel had come in...
As much he might have liked to forget that entire...night with Faith had remained vivid in his mind all these years since, the images, the words – even the sensations, to a degree – all fresh. He'd been using those memories to steel himself against what he knew was to come, as much as a matter of principle than for any need, in the...perhaps an hour since he'd been dragged away, still chuckling, by the obviously freaked out – just a little – guards and the locked into this cell.
Of course, Faith had been wrong about how many torture groups there were. She'd forgotten bright, which was something he'd deployed against Justine to great effect. And of course, perhaps the most powerful: true isolation and dependency.
Of course, that last one took a rather long time to be effective.
That aside, however, the splash of cold water over his seated form did its job in forcing a small shudder of shock at the sudden cold sensation. He turned towards the door, shaking the water off best he could, standing up and seeing Aredian there with two guards, one holding the now empty bucket.
"Ah. Interrogation time?" Wesley offered.
"Time to confess." Aredian replied in a correcting tone, with a strange note of faux-friendliness.
"Confess to what?" Wesley replied with a soft smirk as the guards grabbed his arms. Rather than let them drag him, he simply walked between them as they took him to a room not far away and settled him into a chair, standing just behind him on either side, as Aredian sat down across from him.
"Confess to breaking the laws of Camelot, of course," Aredian supplied. "You've been caught red-handed with implements of sorcery in your possession," The Witchfinder's tone was eminently reasonable. "You've broken the laws of this kingdom in practicing magic, and you're an enemy of the realm. Confess to your crimes and name your conspirators in whatever plot you had against the King and his kingdom, and I shall be merciful, and intercede with the King, requesting a quick death for you."
Wesley cracked a small smile, "Did you really expect that to work?"
"I am not a cruel man," Aredian replied, unfazed. "I take no pleasure in death or in whatever methods must be taken to uncover the truth. I am merely trying to give you a chance to make this easier on yourself. Why do you not take it and spare yourself?"
"Why," Wesley shot back, waiting for the actual torture to begin, "did you decide to call what is obviously a bracelet an amulet? Are you so-"
"Insolence will only hurt you, Wesley." Aredian kept cool in his replies, a firm but icy tone delivering his words levelly. "What actions were you plotting against Uther? Who were you working with? The Druids? Your 'Lady Illyria'?"
"I wasn't working with anyone because I'm guilty of nothing. You know that as well as-" Wesley replied, then trailed off. He'd considered cracking a grim joke of some sort but...well, he didn't really find it that funny. The sheer absurdity of everything had indeed gotten to him with the bracelet being called an amulet, but...
Well, very little was really that amusing to him now. Not recently. Some dark amusement at times, but even then, it was amusing because it wasn't...not that such a thing made sense.
Of course, I'm somewhat in doubt about my own sanity at times, so there is that.
He'd begun questioning himself after crashing the Orlon Window...but he suspected Fred's death was what had unhinged him, if his sanity really was off at all.
"You are a magic user and an enemy of the realm," Aredian repeated, and Wesley realized that he'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he'd missed what Aredian had been saying. "You've broken the laws of this kingdom, and you will name your conspirators." He turned to the guards, "Tie his hands behind the chair, and leave us. I must have privacy to conduct my work."
Wesley raised an eyebrow at that, and the guards set to work at binding his hands, wrapping the thick rope around his wrists, the knot surprisingly good for one tied by the Camelot equivalent of rent-a-cops, so far as his experience had shown.
"So now we'll see if you turn out to be better than Faith at torture," Wesley told Aredian as the guards left.
Aredian stood up, looking down at him, "Faith?"
"A young woman – eighteen at the time," Wesley replied, "something of a murderous little bitch, then."
"And this...girl tortured you?" Aredian chuckled grimly. "A rather interesting life you've led, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."
"In a fight, I'd put my money on her rather than you, Aredian. She was an exceptional fighter. Her skills as a torturer were those of an amateur, I'll grant, but she was a very...enthusiastic amateur."
"And you're going to tell me you didn't break for her, which is why you know you won't confess your crimes to me?" Aredian sounded amused. "You just told me she was an amateur. No amateur, no matter how 'enthusiastic,' is any competition for a man of my skills." Aredian selected a small, flat metal strip with a wooden handle on one end – it wasn't sharp. It probably would have had trouble cutting butter, in Wesley's estimation.
"And just how did you end up with such an expertise? Being a fraud can't exactly afford you much in the way of experience in anything productive."
"No one has ever failed to confess after I've determined their use of magic as fact," Aredian replied, and Wesley wondered if the man would keep up the charade for the entire time he was in the man's tender mercies. He couldn't believe that Aredian believed his own lies – he'd planted the damn 'amulet', after all, which was hardly the act of a man with any conviction that he could find magic-users...
No. He's probably just too clever to let anything slip under any circumstances. A pity, but Wesley's plan didn't hinge on Aredian acting like a Bond villain.
No, I'm relying on history's most powerful and wisest wizard.
Unfortunately, said most powerful and wisest wizard was barely twenty years old, and acted like a teenager at times, and certainly lacked the maturity to qualify as the true Merlin of legend.
On the other hand, Morgana may get involved as well, and she's got a cunning mind. He hoped his plans could succeed where Morgana was concerned, but either way, Morgana had every incentive to want the Witchfinder dealt with, and she was likely just as able – if not more able than – as Merlin when it came to making the connection.
They could use magic too, and since Wesley suspected Merlin was the one responsible for the smoke-horse that had started all this, they knew that Aredian had arrested the wrong spell-caster. They had to know that something was off for Aredian to settle on Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.
And I'll be quite insulted if either of them believe I would have been stupid enough to hide magical artifacts in my own chambers.
It was then that Wesley saw Aredian holding the dull metal strip over a torch, which the Witchfinder held in his other hand.
So, from cold to hot. At least he's not going to sharp or blunt yet.
That was his first thought. His second was far more sane and normal for any human in his situation.
This is going to hurt.
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Morgana swept into Gaius' workroom and saw the physician at work, mixing some kind of potion or poultice – she wasn't sure, to be honest.
In no mood for pleasantries, and still furious at Arthur, Morgana's tone was curt when she demanded of Gaius, "Where is Merlin?" She knew she was being impolite, and that Gaius didn't deserve her rudeness-
Well, he did try to keep you from knowing about your magic...tried to get Merlin to lie to me...
Morgana shook those thoughts out of her head. She didn't have time for them, and the real reason she was being terse with him was unrelated to them anyway.
"He's in his room-" Gaius' voice cut off from whatever else he'd been about to say when Morgana stalked past him, opening the door to Merlin's room and pulling it closed behind her.
Looking up, Merlin raised an eyebrow at her entrance, "Morgana-"
"The Witchfinder has arrested Wesley," she interrupted, locking the door and speaking in a low tone, but making no effort to hide her anger.
"He- he found evidence?" Merlin sounded as incredulous as she had been at the very idea of 'evidence' being found in the man's chambers.
"If he found something, it wasn't Wesley's, or it was only 'evidence' in Aredian's imagination," Morgana replied scornfully, "We both know there wouldn't be anything to find."
"Not necessarily," Merlin cautioned. "It's not as if I don't have the book-"
"Which you've hidden with magic, correct?" Merlin had to admit that. He nodded, and Morgana let out a soft sigh of relief. That was a good thing. She'd wondered if he'd gone that extra step to make sure, "So even if Wesley did have something, he would have hidden it with magic as well," Morgana pointed out.
"Alright." Merlin let out a sigh himself, "You're right, the 'proof' he's found against Wesley is probably fake. But that doesn't mean he didn't figure out Wesley used magic and just planted something so there'd be no doubt for anyone else."
"Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that Wesley doesn't deserve to be imprisoned and probably tortured until he gives a confession!" Morgana forced herself to stop before she raised her voice, taking a deep breath.
"Wesley doesn't deserve to be put in prison for using magic anymore than you or I do. I'm – I'm just so..." Morgana just let out a breath, her anger flowing out of her, leaving her feeling... just... drained. Not much, but it was noticeable. "I'm just tired of letting Uther kill people. I know – I know you're right about what killing him would do about Arthur's opinion of magic – but... he's not protesting Wesley's imprisonment."
"He was willing to help rescue Mordred though," Merlin pointed out insistently, "Arthur is a better man than Uther-"
"I'm not going to argue it with you again," Morgana told him softly, "because whatever else, I don't think I could really kill Uther." She hated him, truly hated him, and had ever since she'd discovered her magic... and she feared him – every time they were in the same room, she had to control her panic, her terror...
"But I can't just let him keep doing this. Not if there's something I can do about it."
"Then what do you propose we do about it?" Merlin asked softly. "Even if we break him out, he's going to have to flee Camelot. And so will the Lady Illyria." Not that it wouldn't make my life much easier... still, I'd rather have them around than out doing whatever it is they're planning somewhere else...
And given the Great Dragon's insistence that more demons would come, now that Illyria had come and vampires had followed...
Wesley was the best source on demons – Gaius had done his best to find out more, but just didn't have the kind of experience that Wesley did. Nor his memory. Wesley's ability to recall things he read was almost scary in terms of how good he was at it.
"I don't think we need to worry about that," Morgana replied softly, cracking a soft smile. "I don't think the Lady Illyria will be content to let Wesley remain in prison... or in the Witchfinder's hands for long." She frowned, "But she also would be willing to kill anyone who got in her way."
"Then what are our options? We can't prove that Wesley is innocent. He's not, even if what the Witchfinder found in his room is fake." Then, Merlin looked up, an idea coming to mind. "Uther is paying Aredian find a sorcerer. It's what he's been doing in the time since the early days of the Great Purge, right?" Morgana nodded. "If he really could find magic, wouldn't he have found me?" He spoke softer now, "I'm the one who made the horse in the smoke. That's the evidence he had to start with – the witness..."
"But he had all those other witnesses."
"After he got here," Merlin pointed out, and Morgana's eyes widened, seeing where he was going.
"He's faking all of it," She said softly, a note of disgust rising in her voice. "He's just-" Uther at least had no interest in executing the 'innocent', though his expansive guilt by association meant fewer people qualified as innocent than just those who didn't use magic... but still...
Uther was a small-minded man, and a prejudiced tyrant...
Aredian...
He sent people to the stake, tortured them, knowing he'd framed them – all for money...
And this is how he makes a living... he's been doing it for years... ever since the Great Purge...
Just how many people had Aredian sent to die to fill his pockets with gold?
"He's just picking people at random. Killing them so that he can make his money – torturing them..." Morgana felt angry bile rising in her and forced it under control for the moment, "torturing them until they'll confess, name their own mothers as conspirators..." The cruel, soulless logic of the Witchfinder's methods unfolded in her mind.
"But we need proof," Merlin said softly, "Something we can bring to Arthur. Or even the King."
"No," Morgana said softly, then, more firmly. "No."
Merlin looked at her confused, "We don't need proof? We can't just-"
Morgana interrupted him, shaking her head, "No. Proving that he's a fraud is too good for him," Morgana kept on, not letting Merlin interrupt her, "He's sent...God knows how many people to burn at the stake for his own greed. Framed them all." She looked Merlin in the eyes, her anger flaring back – but this time colder, with a focus and direction her earlier anger hadn't had. "He should get the same treatment."
Merlin didn't get it for a moment, then, "Morgana. Are you – we can't! That's... there's no-" He trailed off when he saw the look of determination on Morgana's face... when he realized that he wasn't going to convince her that this was a bad idea.
And if I don't help her, she's going to try to do it on her own... Maybe Morgana could manage it on her own, but she was still working on controlling her talent, to get it to do exactly what she wanted...and if she got caught and he hadn't been there to help her...
Merlin took a breath. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"
"I'm not sure yet," Morgana admitted.
"We don't have much time if we want to get it done before Wesley either confesses or Lady Illyria breaks him out and kills dozens of people in the process," Merlin pointed out grimly.
"Couldn't you stop her?"
Merlin shook his head, "I don't know. I'll be honest: Maybe. But she – well, with how fast she moves, she might be able to kill me before I could do enough to stop her. And I think she can use magic too." Or it could just be that she's a demon I'm picking up.
Morgana remembered that vision she'd had the day Illyria and Wesley had arrived. "She can. And we can't let her leave Camelot. Not yet." She reminded him of her dream, of the blonde woman she'd seen waging that magical duel with Illyria. "Whoever that woman is, she hasn't come here yet..." Not that I know who I'd rather win... but better the known devil than the unknown one.
"I- I hadn't thought about that part," Merlin admitted. "But that doesn't solve the problem of how we're going to frame Aredian."
"We'll need to plant some evidence of our own," Morgana pointed out. "After that..." Her voice trailed off a moment. "It would be easier if we could figure out just how he got those women to confess to what they saw."
"Paid them, or threatened them, likely," Merlin replied softly. "And... well, what evidence would be plant? It would have to be fairly... there'd have to be a lot of it. The King trusts Aredian." There was a silence for a moment, then Merlin said, only half-serious, an almost amused note in his voice, "I could always make a toad come out of his mouth." He didn't know exactly how such a spell would work, but for something like that? He should be able to accomplish it.
"That's a start," Morgana agreed. Merlin looked at her in shock.
"You're serious? You think I should?" He sounded incredulous at the idea. "I was only joking-"
"Why not?" Morgana countered. "He's accused Wesley of the same, with those witnesses. But we can't just do that..." She looked to the floor, wondering just which floorboard the book was concealed under, what spells Merlin had used to hide it. "The book. It has information on... enchanted items? 'Implements of Sorcery'?"She quoted Arthur's phrasing, even if she thought it made no sense. Merlin seemed to need no items to use his magic, and hadn't suggested she needed one either.
Merlin nodded, "Yes." But then he shook his head. "But they take time to make – even a simple wand for directing minor spells takes a week to make properly, to let the magic settle correctly." That wait was why he'd never bothered to make anything – that and carrying around any sort of wand, or staff to help direct his magic would have been far too conspicuous. "And you can't just conjure the physical object either. The spells won't take on something conjured." That too the book had been rather clear on.
"But it doesn't have to be made properly. Uther won't know that it isn't really magical. It just has to look suitably magical. Couldn't you conjure something like that?" Morgana's mind was racing, already on the next thing – if they could plant the evidence, how would they bring it to Arthur? They'd need to give Arthur some reason to search Aredian's quarters...
There's always the toad... if Arthur sees it happening...
That was a long-shot though – somewhat. Or it might not be. It was hard to say.
Merlin nodded. "I suppose I could." Conjuring items into existence was complicated, and something he only did rarely. Gaius, and the book both warned about the potential consequences of conjured items – they were more physically fragile than a real one, even if they didn't look it, and it was conspicuous. And... well, they had a tendency to crumble into dust after a few days. They didn't have to, but it was common.
Of course, we don't need it to last a few days, and if they do crumble into dust... Well, it would only support the idea that Aredian was a sorcerer.
Merlin couldn't believe that he was contemplating this course of action. It was... sentencing anyone to burn at the stake, by framing them no less...
But Aredian needed to be stopped, and... he wasn't as... angry as Morgana, but the thought of Aredian dying for what he'd done...
Merlin remembered how he'd felt when he'd killed Nimueh, after what she did first to his mother, then to Gaius...
Violence and killing may not be the best solution... A small voice in the back of his mind murmured, But sometimes, its the most satisfying.
What scared Merlin most was that with Aredian... he was agreeing with that little 'voice'.
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Merlin stood off to the side of the dining hall – Arthur, Uther, Morgana and Aredian were having lunch together. Morgana looked more than a little uncomfortable, but she was managing to keep it together – and managing to not denounce Aredian openly.
Part of that might be because she knows what's going to happen.
Once they'd actually settled on a plan of action, they'd needed to select what magical objects would be found in Aredian's chambers. Wanting to avoid being too over the top, but something that would be immediately suspicious, they'd settled on two objects.
Now Merlin only hoped they'd do the job.
Breaking into Aredian's chambers had been surprisingly easy, and casting the enchantment on the Witchfinder himself...
I'll find out if it worked soon, I suppose. Merlin thought to himself. And if the toad didn't come out... well... then he'd have to make sure it did, or find some other way...
"How does the interrogation, Aredian?" Uther asked the Witchfinder as he set down his goblet.
"Well, if rather slowly. He is unwilling as of yet to name any conspirators, but it has only been one day. Not unusual for men to hold out for a short time," Aredian spoke of torture as calmly as one might discuss buying bread.
"How can you be so sure he has conspirators?" Arthur pointed out. "Very well, he's a sorcerer, but that doesn't mean he's working with anyone."
"He is almost certainly working with the Lady Illyria. They arrived together, and he is her sworn man. Soon enough, Wesley will admit it, and we may be getting somewhere," Aredian disagreed. "But as I told you when I arrived, Uther, the stink of sorcery is heavy on your kingdom. Such can only be when there are many at work plotting against your kingdom and its people."
"And we are all grateful for your assistance in eliminating this threat," Uther agreed. Aredian put a hand on his throat a moment and cleared it, taking a deep drink from his own goblet.
"And you have shown that gratitude amply." Aredian agreed. He put his hand on his throat again, trying to clear it. A sort of almost gagging sound could be heard.
"Aredian! Are you well?" Uther immediately stood, staying away from his own food and drink, his first thought poison. Had he already ingested enough, or was it only in what had been provided to Aredian.
"I-" Aredian started. He stood, trying to moved, but he staggered, catching himself on the back of the chair, bent over like a man about to vomit – his mouth opened, and something green started to... almost push its way out...
With another choking, gagging sound, Aredian managed to get whatever it was out of his throat and mouth – and a small toad landed on the floor, croaking contentedly, as if the fact that it had just come out of a human's mouth bothered it not a bit.
"Sorcery!" Uther said after a moment, looking at Aredian in horror – could this man whom he'd trusted for so long -
Aredian had his voice again, "A trick! A curse set upon me by those who practice sorcery!" He managed to get out, as two guardsmen rushed towards him.
Arthur, for his part, had his hand on his sword hilt. Was this why the Witchfinder seemed...off? He'd been trying to understand just what it was about Aredian that had bothered him so much – was it this?
Uther didn't seem convinced by Aredian's protestations, "Arrest him!"
"Father," Arthur cut in, "You've trusted Aredian for many years. He at least deserves a chance." Arthur believed it was his duty to try to keep his father from rash decisions... though he also hoped a search of Aredian's quarters would turn something up. "A search of his chambers will prove it one way or the other."
"I have nothing to hide, your majesty," Aredian told the King.
That wouldn't be as true as you'd like it to be, Witchfinder, Merlin found it hard to not smile – and he noticed that Morgana was in fact smirking ever so slightly, unseen by everyone else's attention on the Witchfinder.
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Wesley moved stiffly, pain his primary sensation as he made his way to Illyria's chambers.
I underestimated them. He'd only been under the Witchfinder's 'care' for a day, and not only had Morgana and Merlin discredited Aredian, they'd done it in a way that had never occurred to him. It was just a pity that he'd fallen out of a window, rather than burned at the stake, but he had died in a suitably gruesome fashion either way.
It hadn't taken long for Uther to order Wesley's release, and Gaius had tended to his injuries – all small burns up and down his arms. Aredian hadn't moved from 'hot', but he'd done quite well with just that 'torture' group as it was. The burns may all have been largely superficial, but...
That doesn't stop them from hurting now any more than it did then.
It had hurt – but in many ways, it still hadn't bothered Wesley. But.. .the pain had bothered him more than he'd thought it would. He didn't quite understand why.
It wouldn't have occurred to Wesley that part of the reason it had affected him was because he wasn't quite as dead inside as he'd been... it had been months. And he had objectives, goals, plans.
The guards on Illyria's chambers were already gone, and Wesley walked in, unimpeded by a lock. Illyria saw no need – the unwelcome didn't come into her presence, after all. Not if they intended to keep their spines.
Illyria was there to greet him as he entered. She approached him and placed a gloved hand on the side of his face for a brief moment, "You are intact."
"I am," Wesley agreed softly.
"But you are not undamaged. The Witchfinder has done you harm. I will enact my-" Illyria began, moving quickly to something she could truly process – violence.
"He's already dead," Wesley interrupted. "He fell out a tower window."
Illyria frowned – actually frowned – at that news. "His punishment was mine to deliver." She looked to Wesley again. "Remove your shirt."
"Excuse me?" Wesley quirked an eyebrow, wondering what on Earth Illyria was saying that for.
"You were injured. I have not fully adapted to the use of magic in this shell, but I am capable of healing your injuries."
"Just like that?"
"It will require an amount of my energy, but I will recover it." Illyria placed a hand on his shirt, "Remove your shirt, or I will remove it for you."
That sounds more like her. After a moment, Wesley nodded. Moving slowly, he removed his shirt, leaving the burns up and down his arms clear. Gaius had treated them with a salve, but they'd be there for a while, and they'd hurt for just as long.
Wesley watched in fascination as the armor simply...melted away from Illyria's left hand, showing that the flesh underneath was just as blue-tinged there was on her face. She placed the hand on his right arm. Her touch was cold, but her skin was much softer than he'd have expected it to be.
"Be still," she commanded, "If you move, it will take longer to address the injuries – and it is unpleasant to see you injured."
For a brief moment, Wesley felt as though he'd heard a note of concern or perhaps... upset, in her voice. But he banished the thought from his mind. He was merely useful to Illyria, and less so while injured. That was all.