Disclaimer: I continue to not own Angel the Series or Merlin. Both shows are owned by people that love to tank my preferred ships. Actually, seems to be a trend – if I ship something, It generally never happens and usually ends very badly for the couple. I might have to stop shipping for TV shows, just so I don't curse the characters involved. :p
Thanks to Deiticlast for his beta-reading services.
I take the concept of the Old Ones (Illyria's people) entwining tentacles as a symbol of trust and association directly from Hotpoint's "Compelled" Series (which any fans of Wesley/Illyria should absolutely read. Actually, everyone should read it. The first fic is 'Compelled to Play Again'). All credit where credit's due – it just fit the needs of the story too well not to borrow.
As with the last chapter, I presuppose a certain basic familiarity with the events of episode 2x09, "The Lady in the Lake". There are events and scenes in the episode I don't intend to rehash 'onscreen', as it were, though the events of the episode will go differently than in canon, thanks to what happened last chapter.
The Ruins of My Kingdom to Come
By Alkeni
Chapter 26: A Plan
"So how do you propose that we aid Morgana in helping the druid girl escape the castle?" Wesley asked Illyria, sitting next to her by the window, holding her bare hand in his.
He'd never have expected it – not that he'd really given it much thought – but Illyria was a very...tactile woman, in a relationship. She was always interested in holding onto his hand, or touching his arm or neck or other exposed flesh, even under otherwise platonic circumstances. There wasn't anything inherently sexual or forward in the touching either, though she could do that as well, when she wanted to.
It was just...she seemed to like touching him. A lot.
He'd asked her about it, and the answer had made sense, though he would likely have never thought of it – she'd once told him that betrayal was a neutral concept for her people, but like any species, the Old Ones needed the capacity to trust others of their kind, under certain circumstances – the imperatives of the entire race's survival demanded it. But so ambitious and conniving a species couldn't trust easily, in the interests of personal survival. Thus, a compromise of sorts had been reached over time, among the Old Ones – trust and associations were made, under the rare circumstance they were needed, by the entwining of tentacles. The agreements were always of limited terms, duration and effect, but to break them during that duration, after that critical ritual, was to be anathema to the entire race and to seal one's doom.
And so, Illyria was a very tactile woman. The circumstances were hardly the same, and she knew that well, but the basic instincts of her own nature were something she could no more deny than the feelings and behaviors imprinted upon her by the shell.
In all actuality, Wesley suspected that Illyria embraced that particular part of her basic instincts as something of herself that she could hold onto. An aspect of her personality and mindset very much apart from her drive to control and dominate and conquer and possibly organize the odd genocide.
Wesley knew Illyria still planned to build a kingdom for herself, and he also knew she was planning to take over Camelot – eventually. But she seemed content to wait out the lifespan of Arthur and most definitely content to wait out the lifespan of Merlin. Arthur she almost managed to respect, a leader and as a champion.
Merlin she didn't so much respect as...well, fear wasn't the right word. Human emotions or not, Illyria still might very well not actually feel fear, and she would certainly never admit to it. But Merlin's magical power and potential was a threat to her, in a way that swords and axes and crossbows never would be.
The only other thing that she saw as a potential threat was the Great Dragon, chained up under the castle. Wesley had yet to interact with the creature, but Gaius had admitted, under some questioning, that Uther had chained the Dragon down in the caverns beneath the castle as a permanent symbol of his dominance over magic, the old religion, and all associated with it. As long as it stayed there, it was no threat to Illyria.
So for the moment, conquest of Camelot was not what she intended. Instead, from what she'd told him, she planned to capture the realm of one of Camelot's hostile neighbors. Which one was apparently undecided, and she was also either deliberately hiding when she planned to do it, or she didn't know when she planned to claim a kingdom for herself.
"The most efficient method would merely be to take her out of the castle and kill those who tried to stop me," Illyria replied, looking over to him. "However, you would not approve."
"Not especially," Wesley admitted. "Ethical objections aside, it also would involve us blowing our cover. Until you decide who it is you want to overthrow, I don't really see the point in abandoning our secure place here at Camelot. If nothing else, it allows us to keep an easy eye on Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur." He shrugged. "That limits our options, but it doesn't remove all of them."
"It does not," Illyria agreed.
"I wouldn't especially object if you killed Halig," Wesley told her, completely matter-of-factly. Even though he wasn't bothered by it now, it still struck him as remarkable, how casually he'd come to regard some deaths. He'd not even thought twice about killing Knox, and he'd made no special efforts since coming here to avoid human deaths.
And the fact of the matter was he hadn't been listening to whatever it was Angel had been saying to Illyria before shooting Knox. He wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind for that.
I should have asked him what it was he was saying then. Well, the option was lost now.
At his comment, Illyria actually smiled a little – it was a small, almost cruel smile that seemed out of place on Fred's face, but it was very much Illyria's smile.
"It would be very...therapeutic to beat that human into a bloody pulp before killing him." Illyria noted.
There was a word he hadn't expected to hear out of Illyria's mouth, though he had long come to grasp that doing violence was in fact a wonderful stress reliever for Illyria.
Not the only one though.
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Morgana didn't need to open the door to guess it was Merlin knocking on the other end. She couldn't be sure – but...
"Enter," she replied to the knock, and sure enough, it was Merlin. He walked inside and closed the door behind him. He didn't walk towards her, however, but stayed by the door.
As much as she was still furious at Merlin; still didn't want anything to do with him, it pained her to see him keeping his distance. She'd come to value his friendship, support and company. Something to hold onto, and now... now she didn't have that. But having it – it was too high of a price.
"Thank you," Merlin told her. "For interfering with Halig-"
"Arthur's the one who got you out. I just stalled Halig until he got there," Morgana replied from her position by her own window.
"You're also the one who sent the servant to find Arthur." Merlin pointed out. "So thank you."
"Did you really think I was just going to let him interrogate you?" Morgana asked stiffly. "Do you think that little of me now?" Merlin felt her righteous fury was merely a thirst for vengeance, not a call for justice. He can't think good of me if he thinks that.
"What?" Merlin shook his head, shocked at the thought, "No, never. I didn't think -" Merlin bit his lip, then took a breath. "I just wanted to thank you. For what you did." He put his handle on the door. "I'll-I'll go." He added, starting to turn the handle.
"Don't," she told him abruptly, not even sure why she was saying it. She turned to look at him directly, head on, and bit her own lip a moment, then: "You said the reason you stopped Arthur from killing Uther was because you thought it would destroy him, to kill his own father." She didn't phrase it as a question, because it wasn't. It's what Merlin had said, more or less. "And you won't let magic be responsible for Uther's death because you think it would embitter Arthur against magic for the rest of his life." Because you're convinced that Arthur becoming king will solve all our problems. It might solve some – Arthur, as he presently was, would never be so ruthless or enthusiastic about persecuting those who used magic or were associated with magic as his Father. But he still seemed to believe that magic, fundamentally, was evil.
"Because both are true." Merlin replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone – and she knew why. He was expecting to have to marshal the same arguments he'd used before to have the same 'discussion' they'd already had.
"But what if a normal assassin was responsible for Uther's death? No magic, no association with magic?" Now she was asking a question. The thoughts were coming to her off the top of her head.
"I- Morgana, you can't be thinking of having some-" Merlin started, sounding a touch horrified at the prospect of her hiring an assassin to kill Uther, his face screwed up in something resembling disgust.
"I'm not," Morgana replied. She was thought. Now that the thought had occurred, she found it...enticing. It would be justice for Uther, and suit Merlin's primary objections nicely. "Would you try to stop me if I did? Would you tell Uther? Or tell Arthur if I succeeded?" The thought was enticing...
I've no idea of any assassins to contact. That was the first problem with any such plan, though it was a correctable problem, if she put enough effort into it. But that wasn't the primary problem – the look of horror and disgust on Merlin's face was enough to put the idea of doing it herself to the side, just as killing him herself with magic had been put aside.
She was angry at Merlin. She didn't want much to do with him, but he didn't hate her. He didn't think her evil – she was fairly sure of that, at least.
And she didn't want him to think of her as evil. He'd been there for her, when no one else had.
Initially, she'd been swayed by his arguments about not killing Uther. But as her own rage and hatred had grown, those arguments hadn't been enough. It was Merlin that had stopped her. Well, Merlin's potential reaction.
As furious as I am – I cannot have him hate me. I want this distance to end. Eventually. She'd never admitted it in so many words as she was here and now in her head, but that was the truth.
"I-" Merlin started in answer to her unexpected question then paused for a long moment, "I wouldn't tell either of them," he admitted after a moment, sounding almost disgusted with himself at that. Almost. "But I would try to stop you, if you did."
"I'm glad to hear you wouldn't hand me over to be killed." Would either of them kill her? That was an open question, but only so open. Uther had shown no qualms about imprisoning her for short periods of time if she argued with him too much. But killing her? She suspected it would be far more likely that she be thrown into some isolated tower, permanent captivity in a gilded cage. But killing her... it was possible. Uther was as fond of the executioner's axe as he was the burning stake.
Arthur, on the other hand, if such an assassination succeeded... he might kill her. His sense of justice was stronger than Uther's in many ways. And in the immediate after math of his father's death...
"But as I said," she continued, "I don't plan on hiring anyone to kill him. But there are others who would – people with no connection to magic that wouldn't mind seeing Uther dead and gone. Cenred comes to mind. Would you stop those assassins?"
"Yes." Merlin replied almost instantly.
"Why? There'd be no magic involved. It would bring Arthur to the throne, bring about the better rule by Arthur you seem so sure will happen. Left to his own devices... Uther is a healthy man, and with Gaius responsible for any medicines given to him, he could stay on the throne for twenty years." The very thought of Uther remaining on the throne for twenty years both terrified and enraged her. It was unlikely – even Gaius couldn't cure every illness that might affect a man as he grew older, but Uther had always been a vigorous king.
"Because it would be wrong – wrong to just let him be assassinated!" Merlin protested, his responses seeming unconvincing to her. He sounded like he was saying just...just what he thought needed to be said in response to the concept. But she wasn't sure.
"It wouldn't. Not even remotely," Morgana disagreed. She looked away from him. "Go."
"Morgana!" Merlin started to protest but then he just looked at her, silently, clearly not sure what to say to her. Wordlessly, the man turned and left the room, letting the door swing shut lightly behind him.
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The news of the 'animal attack' in the lower town was enough to get Wesley out of his chambers for something other than working in the castle library, helping everything get and stay sorted, or researching what he could about Camelot and Albion, and what he could about dragons, though it was mostly unhelpful. The true prizes, on the subjects of magic, and dragons and magical beasts, would be among the tomes Uther had sealed away in his vault. Gaius had a small handful for the purposes of helping Uther and the Knights of Camelot against such creatures where needed, but they too weren't the most helpful tomes.
His first suspicion was that it was a demon at work. But when he drew closer, and saw no footprints in the mud but human ones, his suspicion changed to the obvious one. A werewolf, or some other kind of shape-shifter, lycanthropic or not.
And the deaths themselves were quite consistent with such creatures.
"Have your men been able to track this creature?" Uther asked his son. Wesley stood back and watched the King, his son and Gaius discuss the bodies.
"That's the strange thing." Arthur said by way of answer as he stood up from his crouch by the bodies, looking at the King. "The ground here is soft so obviously a bear or a wolf would have left some sort of mark – and that's leaving aside the question of how one would have gotten into the lower town without some notice. But there are no tracks anywhere around here."
"There are footprints though." Wesley commented, approaching. "Human footprints leading away from the body." He approached.
"Did someone escape from the attack?" Gaius asked, looking over to Arthur.
"No one's come forward," Arthur replied. He looked to Wesley. "I suppose you're here because you have a theory?" Wesley's 'mysterious' habit of turning up and knowing what was going on, despite not being seen outside of his rooms much had by now become something of a 'thing' – for lack of a better way to put it – among the Knights and the castle guards. He knew it was perhaps a little juvenile, but he played the effect for all it was worth.
Angel got away with playing mysterious dark avenger for four years. I think I can play something a little less over-the-top for a while longer. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he did enjoy the reaction his cultivated reputation got him. Such as the almost resigned assumption that he wasn't here out of idle curiosity or to learn enough to make a theory.
Obviously, he already had one.
"I don't think it was a demon." Wesley said. "They don't tend to leave human footprints. And the ones that do can't exactly tear people apart like that." He gestured half-handedly to the bodies, his eyes on the surrounding town rather than the victims. That wasn't entirely true, but he doubted it was one of the kinds of demon that could do those things. They were rare, and would have likely left more evidence.
"It is likely some kind of shape-shifter," Wesley concluded. "The nature of the shifting, I don't know yet."
"A creature of magic then," Uther finished. "Loose in the town. It must be found and apprehended."
"It won't be easy." Wesley informed him. "Any being that can transform from being human to some form that can leave these injuries will look human and seem human to any external study. You won't find them when they look human." Unless it was a werewolf, and then they could try something with silver, if they wanted to, but werewolves didn't transform back into their human forms in the middle of the night right after a kill.
Someone with some kind of spell or talisman that lets them turn into a bear or a wolf or something along those lines then.
"If it came out last night just to kill," Arthur started firmly, "then the odds are that it will come out tonight to kill as well. We'll double the guard on the lower town tonight. Increase patrols and send the Knights out in force. I'll lead one of the patrols myself." Uther almost looked like he wanted to object to his son putting himself at such risk, but then thought better of it. "Anything else to suggest?" Arthur asked Wesley.
"Not at the moment. I'll think on it, perhaps have a look at your books, Gaius if you'll allow me, and see if I can determine anything else of use." He looked over at the physician as he finished, one eyebrow raised.
Unsurprisingly, Gaius nodded. "Of course."
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Wesley had deliberately timed his visit to Gaius' chambers to when the physician would be gone, checking on some of his patients. And, thankfully, he hadn't taken Merlin with him, which meant Wesley could do what he'd been actually planning – talk to Merlin.
"Gaius brought the books out for you," Merlin said when he saw that it was Wesley who entered the room, then returned to sweeping the floor.
Wesley saw that the books that would be 'relevant' to this inquiry were in fact out on the table, but he wasn't actually after them, so it didn't matter.
"I'm not here for the books. I'm here to speak with you."
Merlin stopped sweeping and looked at him, caution written across his face. "What do you want?"
"I want to see the druid girl," Wesley replied. "And don't deny it. Morgana has already requested the aide of the Lady Illyria and myself in getting her out of the city. And I have an idea, but I need to speak with her first."
Merlin closed his free hand into a fist slowly, taking in a deep sharp breath, then, "What's the idea?"
"You don't want to know," Wesley told him, "Besides, it may be that it won't work. I need to see the girl, ask her a few questions before I make a decision on if it is actually possible."
"I'm not going to just take you to her so you can interrogate her!" Merlin shot back. "She's terrified."
"You want her out of Camelot, right?" Wesley didn't wait for an answer. "Then let me speak with her. This is an idea on how to get her out, and if we play our cards right, Halig will lose out especially on the exchange." Because Illyria will be able to beat him to death.
Merlin looked at him carefully for a minute, trying to study the expression on Wesley's face, then nodded. "Fine. Meet me by the caste gate tonight."