Arthur. Arthur's voice. Arthur was alive.
Merlin's heart beat wildly in his chest, joy cursed through his veins like quicksilver. He'd done it. He'd gone back.
Even just this was enough. If he could freeze time in this moment and hold it here, with Arthur alive and Merlin by his side, he would have been content. He slowed his breathing, hearing his own heartbeat, and held on to the moment.
But time slipped on.
"You are arrogant and rash, and your doom is at hand unless you heed our warning, and cease persecuting those that follow the old religion," one of the Disir spoke, her face half covered under the cowl of her cloak.
"You will not speak like this to the King!" Sir Gwaine spat stepping forward.
Words of warning rose in Merlin's throat, but one of the Disir waved her hand and Gwaine was tossed backwards against the cave wall. The knights drew their swords.
The Disir's staff flew towards Arthur and Mordred caught it in the chest as he threw himself forward to protect his king. The knights retreated with a clatter of armour and swords, and Merlin, left behind, deflected the second flying spear aimed towards Arthur's back.
A flash of silver glinted from under the Disir's hood, and Merlin locked eyes with her for a brief moment.
"Nothing will change, Emrys, if Arthur does not submit to this court's judgment," came the Disir's warning.
…
The ride to Camelot was grim and tense, just as it had been the first time around. Merlin's head swam with possibilities and dead ends. So far, nothing had changed. They were plummeting arrogantly and unknowingly to their downfall once more.
Once inside the stone walls of Camelot, Arthur and the others made quick work of bringing Mordred to Gaius' chambers. Merlin, under the dragon's warning, and doubly now under his knowledge of the future stood well away as the discussion over the magic wound progressed. And in due time, Arthur, consistent in his resolve to move heaven and earth for his men, informed Merlin of his decision to ride back to the Disir and beg their help.
Hours before dawn when they were due to depart, Merlin made his way down the silent corridors to Gwaine's room. He rapped on the door until he heard a reluctant "Enter."
"What is it, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, jumping right out of his bed. "Is it Mordred?"
"No, no, he hasn't changed," Merlin began. "Look, Gwaine, there's something I need you to do."
Gwaine raised an eyebrow.
"There is a tower on the Belvin plain on the far edge of Odin's land …" Merlin began.
…
Arthur and Merlin rode in silence, and Merlin remembered the doubts that had consumed him on this trip the first time around. Mordred's life, Arthur's future, it all hung in the balance. He'd made a bitter mistake the first time around by turning his back on magic in order to insure Mordred's death, and had paid for it dearly. The closer they rode, the more he felt the drawing near of destiny, like a noose around his neck. He'd chosen this moment to come back to, but now he feared he had left it much too late. He should have gone back further, given Arthur and himself more of a chance, a chance to right more wrongs than this. Perhaps then, the Disir's judgment would have never happened.
"You're awfully quiet. You're not going to badger me about risking my life for one man?" Arthur asked breaking the silence. "It's not like you."
Merlin gave him a sideways look. He had badgered Arthur about it the first time around. But it didn't matter now. He had no words and Arthur, weighed down with dark thoughts of his own, didn't press him.
Their interview with the Disir went as he remembered it. The choice between magic and doom was laid at Arthur's feet. Later around their campfire, Arthur and Merlin came again to the fateful conversation that Merlin looked back on as his biggest mistake.
"What do you think I should do?" Arthur asked him.
Time stood still. In that strange place where everything felt more alive, the very air vibrating around him like the earth's living heart, Merlin drew in a breath, hearing his own heartbeat, and Arthur's, and the pulse of the future meet in that moment like a node of history.
"You must think of Camelot's future, Arthur," Merlin said, and this time around the words came from his heart. He poured into them all his pent up longing for the future Arthur's reign promised. "You believe in freedom for all people. Why not also those that have magic? Magic in itself isn't evil. It is only a tool. If their magic is used for good, people deserve the right to practice freely. They deserve to be accepted for who they are and not live in fear and hiding."
"You think there are those that live this way?" Arthur asked.
"I know it."
"How do you know such things?"
Merlin hesitated. "From Gaius," he said evasively.
He fell silent. Arthur watched him in earnest then sat looking at the flames deep in thought.
"If I do this, Merlin, I am afraid of unleashing a power that is beyond me to control."
"You're not alone, Arthur. You have friends and allies who will help you."
"Witches and sorcerers? Would they forgive and forget and swear allegiance to a Camelot that's persecuted them?" Arthur broke a twig and threw it on the fire. The sparks flew up into the dark canopy around them.
"They would swear allegiance to you, Arthur," Merlin said softly. "You are a good king."
Arthur fell silent.
Merlin felt the anxiety flutter and grow in his chest. The fate of the future hung in the balance, fragile like moth's wings. The night grew dark and silent and the hours passed and Arthur and Merlin sat awake, each caught in their own thoughts and fears and Arthur spoke no more until it was morning and they stepped back into the Disir's cave.
"Choose your words well, Arthur Pendragon, for your doom is close at hand," the Disir spoke.
"I believe in a free Camelot," Arthur started, "A free Camelot for all. And that includes those that follow the old religion." He paused and Merlin drew in a shuddering breath. "I accept your judgment."
"Do you promise to stop persecuting those that practice the old religion?" one of the Disir asked.
"I promise it. If their magic is not used to harm others or for evil purposes, they shall be free to use it."
"Do you promise to make magic once again lawful in the land of Camelot?" the second Disir asked.
"I promise it."
The words sent shivers down Merlin's spine. He'd never thought he'd hear Arthur speak them.
"Do you promise to bow yourself before the Triple Goddess?"
Arthur hesitated. "That, I cannot promise. It is not a belief I share."
The third Disir hissed her displeasure.
"You are still arrogant Arthur Pendragon, without knowledge of your own smallness."
"It is all I can offer," Arthur said, his words heavy and final.
"You have nothing to offer, Pendragon," the Disir spoke, "and everything to lose." Their anger was once again rising.
Merlin reached across and put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He met his gaze to plead with him but realized full well that Arthur would not bend to this last request. He had already conceded much. He could not go further.
"Great Disir," Merlin said stepping forward. "Your judgment is fair, and your anger righteous. I ask you to give the king a second chance."
"Merlin! Be quiet." Arthur protested, trying to pull Merlin back.
"No, Arthur, let me speak." He turned again to the Disir. "You passed judgment on a man who was willing to listen. He cares more for his people than he does himself. I have seen it every day. I believe that he will deal justly with those with magic, just as he does with his other subjects. You have heard his promise. Please give him the chance to prove it. I pledge my own life that he will not fail."
Arthur stared at him wide eyed.
The Disir grew quiet. Their bodies were still visible in the cave, yet their presence seemed to depart. Merlin's heart almost stopped beating. He had lost. He had failed to convince them, failed to redeem Arthur's fate and now he would have to watch Arthur die all over again.
Suddenly, the presence of the Disir returned. Merlin took a step back.
"The Triple Goddess has spoken," they said in unison, their voices filling the cave, bouncing off the walls and magnifying. "Your doom will not be lifted. The blood that is on your hands cannot be cleansed Arthur Pendragon. You refuse to bow to the Goddess."
Merlin closed his eyes, feeling the walls spin around him. He had failed.