A/N: BOY, IT SURE HAS BEEN A LONG TIME. I'm really sorry for taking so long on this, especially considering it's more of an aftermath chapter and not a whole lot happens in it. I hadn't dropped the fic at all, I've just been taking an extraordinarily long amount of time to finish chapters lately. Hopefully I can get the next one out this lifetime.
Anyway, please enjoy.
"Used you? Exactly how have I used you?"
"You don't know?" the tone was decidedly not one that a manservant should be using in regards to a prince. "Well, what about forcing my younger self to help your father live, and to help him kill a man? Or, perhaps, it's the fact that you decided to make me reveal my magic to the both of you, and that you allowed the king to lock me up in a dungeon."
"I had no other choice!"
"Didn't you?" the next words that came out of the commoner's mouth were spoken in such a matter-of-fact manner that he'd have sworn he misheard. "The very first thing you do after you're sent back in time is alter the course of history in the most drastic way possible. Did you not think once of the fate of Camelot, Arthur?"
"Really? You're blaming me for changing this kingdom's destiny, after everything that's happened? And you call me a prat - Merlin, if you've somehow forgotten, and I have my doubts that you have, it was you in the first place who sent me back here!"
Agravaine had played the conversation over in his head.
It was the sole thing seeping through his veins.
He wrote the words down exactly as he remembered them three - no - four times, analyzed each letter and thought and overthought a hundred scenarios, then promptly burned the parchment. He recalled his previous meals, checking in wide paranoia that he hadn't been poisoned with some hallucinogenic herb. He'd thought of the various ways he could have perhaps misconstrued what was said. Perhaps there was another explanation for what they'd been speaking of. Perhaps their words had a different meaning altogether and they were possibly talking about something, even that which was somehow more incriminating than what was already implied yet at least more in the realm of plausibility. Perhaps Agravaine had stayed in the sun too long and made up the exchange altogether.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
He resisted the urge to pace and instead focused on his steps through his way in Camelot.
It was known that Uther's judgement had been less than optimal as of late, even on top of his already trigger-happy attitude towards the possibility of sorcery within his ranks.
But that conversation?
There were few conclusions he could draw from that.
Key words stuck out in his mind, yet focusing specifically on them only made his headache burn and beat.
Reveal my magic.
Back in time.
It made no sense.
No matter how he tried to rationalize it, there was no way that it made any amount of sense.
In the event that the boy truly had magic, and that he indeed manipulated time - though, in what way remained unclear even through Agravaine's rampant thoughts and assumptions - then what could that mean, exactly? What would that have entailed for anyone, let alone for Morgana? Agravaine searched his mind endlessly for an answer, yet he could find none. Each time he attempted to find logic behind what was said, he ended up contradicting his own reasoning or debunking his own theories. He'd barely had time to process it all, even through the last couple of nights. It plagued his mind to an impossible degree.
He knew immediately that he needed to inform Morgana of the servant's trial.
When he'd brought it up to her, however...
"Accused of sorcery?" a wry smile graced Morgana's dark and fair features. "I do hope you've brought me news other than that. We both know of Uther's tendencies - exactly what should I glean from an accusation he's made towards others countless times? On a commoner, no less. On Merlin."
As he trudged through the hall, his feet were solid steel against the stone.
She'd dismissed him entirely.
He could barely blame her.
For just a moment, he considered telling her of the conversation he'd overheard. If it all proved true - the boy being a sorcerer, using such advanced magic as to manipulate time , and Arthur of all people being completely aware of it - Agravaine may have stumbled into a conspiratory nightmare, one which he could not avoid nor turn a blind eye to. A political storm was brewing right under his nose and Agravaine felt there was little he could do to stop it or even come close to understanding it. At the same time, the reveal of one who may very well be a powerful magic user seemed somewhat too convenient for the current set of events.
Far too convenient.
Really, he could already imagine in his mind's eye Morgana jumping to the possibility of this serving boy being the one she's come to fear, the source of her growing paranoia, Emrys. It seemed highly unlikely in Agravaine's eyes, but he could not risk her increased instability without the manservant's head already presented to her on a stake.
He needed evidence.
Above all else, he needed Merlin's life in his own hands before anything happened.
Regardless of his identity, the likely threat he posed to their cause was evident. The threat to Morgana herself was even more important to consider. Uther still in power already proved it more and more difficult to meet with her, let alone protect her as carefully as he'd have liked.
Even that was not at the forefront of his mind, however.
The idea that his blood nephew could be knowingly protecting a magic user filled Agravaine with conflicting emotions. His better judgement wanted this to solidify his contempt for Arthur, as it was clear proof of him following in Uther's footsteps through willful hypocritical ignorance. Though it was the manservant himself who'd cast Agravaine's thoughts in doubt. Merlin was a civilian and before that a man with an obliged loyalty to Arthur, but he at least seemed sensible and quick to question or even talk back to the prince. In fact, he at times appeared to be a bit too observant. A magic user with his amount of defiance condoning that behavior certainly made the situation...questionable.
Everything was questionable, at that point.
Agravaine couldn't quite shake an overwhelming unease as he passed through the castle halls. His rapid steps seemed in sync with his heartbeat.
There was but one solution.
He had to kill the boy before he posed a threat to Morgana.
It was not a matter of choice. There were too many variables in play for him to allow the manservant to live, and even the smallest chance that Merlin may mean the doom of Morgana made Agravaine's skin crawl with utmost disgust and anxiety.
Merlin could not, under any circumstances, be left to his own devices no matter what they were.
That was why he'd hurried directly back to the castle once he'd spoken to Morgana.
Just as his body turned the corner, however, he came face-to-face with yet another he's grown to harbor deep disdain for.
"A pleasure to see you again, Agravaine," Uther greeted with an ease in his voice that the other man wanted to choke right out on the spot. Calm down, he told himself immediately at said thought. "I see you've returned to the castle just in time to greet Arthur. I've just received word that the knights were spotted near the outskirts of Camelot; they're well on their way back from the mission. I do anticipate the results, though with eagerness or trepidation I'm sure you can imagine I've...yet to decide."
Agravaine stopped himself and attempted to properly register the king's words.
There was an absent air of upset that he tried to mask. "I - I see," he responded carefully, swallowing before allowing the words to tumble out of his mouth. "In fact, I'd nearly forgotten about that. I'd originally come to further interrogate Merlin, to see if I can push any needed information out of him, if permitted."
The way that Uther's face automatically fell made Agravaine's stomach follow in suit.
Even his shoulders fell, and the king let out a sigh. "It may have slipped my mind to inform you while you'd been gone," and with each word, anxiety further filled agravaine. "The boy accompanied my son and my knights on the mission to retrieve and destroy the egg."
Agravaine could no longer contain his outrage.
" What - "
"Believe me when I tell you that I want with all of my heart to permit you to interrogate the sorcerer. Unfortunately, that is - well, it seems out of the question. My...my son's persuasion was rather difficult to argue against," Uther admitted, cutting through Agravaine's protests with a mixture of defeat and pride. "The trial is to be dropped if the mission is successful. I cannot stress enough my worry for Arthur's life when I am certain of the boy's guilt yet...if the egg is indeed destroyed, there is little I can do to convict him."
The dark haired man shook his head in disbelief. "You...you would choose to back down now?"
"I am a man of my word, my brother," Uther replied simply, though his voice was lined with regret.
At those words, Agravaine's unease quickly turned to a drained sickness. "I see," he responded again simply with a weak nod.
Just as he was to turn away, Uther stopped him.
"Agravaine, I fear my son's attachments to commoners is clouding his judgement," the king spoke lowly and with an odd vulnerability, reaching a hand to his brother. "He seems convinced of the sorcerer's innocence but trust that I know what I saw. I implore you to talk some sense into him when you get the chance, will you? He should be returning soon and if for any reason the boy has managed to retain Arthur's misguided trust, I believe that I alone may not be enough to sway his judgement. This...combined with the uprisings around the kingdom - well, it is all very stressful, you may imagine. History seems to be repeating itself and my people grow more restless by the day."
Coming to a steady resolve, Agravaine swallowed. The hand on his shoulder burned. "I will speak with Arthur. That much, I can promise you. Though I don't think it is any good complaining about what has happened in the past, my Lord," he attempted to word himself with caution. "We can't expect the whole of the masses to side with us when the long history of our land is all so complicated. All we can do is work with the now and the later. That, I will leave to you."
He hadn't even waited for Uther to respond before pushing himself through the halls.
It occurred to Agravaine as he retreated to his quarters that he had quite a few enemies within the very walls he regularly slept and that it was only a matter of time before all parties were to be fully aware of just that.
It subsequently occurred to him that even the little sleep he'd already been getting would be decreased dramatically in the coming nights for that exact reason.
Took some time for Merlin to realize just how utterly unprepared they'd been for something like hiding a dragon egg directly under the nose a kingdom so opposed to magic. Of course, it'd been much easier the first time around, but reenacting that would have required counting on Kilgharrah to not burn the warlock to a crisp the first moment the dragon saw him, or at the very least not giving him a stern and booming lecture about destiny and abusing magic. Because neither was particularly enticing to deal with, exactly. Perhaps the Kilgharrah of that time wouldn't be able to tell just how entirely hopeless Merlin had evidently rendered the world.
Right. The sorcerer gave a snort at the thought. If only.
Far from worth taking that chance.
"And where's it at now?" Lancelot sat slouched over on Merlin's bed, brows furrowed in deep thought.
"Gaius has it, said he'd find a place for her," he responded, closing his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall if his quarters, head pointed down in deep thought. "Don't trust Arthur with it. Definitely don't trust myself with it. I made sure he wouldn't tell me where he'd put her. The way I am now, there's no possible way I could guarantee I'd leave her alone if I know full well where she's being kept."
It dawned on Lancelot the sort of expression on Merlin's face was that of a protective parent. It seemed a bit too personal for him to witness, and he tried himself at changing the subject. "Well, speaking of Arthur," he started with a raised eyebrow. "Does he know about what you did? Well - he clearly knows - but you said your people have been turning your back on you. People of magic, yeah? What's that mean, exactly?"
In response, Merlin shook his head, frustration evident in his movements.
"Nothing I could tell you with confidence, that much is true," he sighed and averted his eyes. "Gaius tells me the world will right itself regardless of how I've tried to alter it, because that's how time magic always works, but the world seems to be treating me like I've committed a crime. I'm being rejected by the only thing I could have ever called my true home, or at least the one thing part of my true identity! There's also the fact that I'd by technicality killed myself. Suicide evidently isn't a very noble thing to do in any culture, regardless of what it really entails or even if it's truly suicide."
"Okay, slow down," Lancelot stood in alarm. "Suicide? What's this all about?"
Yet again, Merlin sighed. "The spell I used was...specific," he began a bit more calmly. "I didn't know it when I'd used it on Arthur. It must've been at the back of my mind, something I'd read somewhere. It is one that switches one's souls at two different periods of time. I tried desperately to save Arthur's life and must have used that to send him back. I imagine that since you're alive, the Cailleach instead chose the life of Arthur's past self as a sacrifice before he could enter the body of his future self. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered regardless, because I'd sent Arthur back just as he'd been dying. His past soul would have died no matter what happened to it, in the end."
"...I want quite badly to question that," Lancelot stated bluntly. "But I've absolutely no idea of where to start. I really was meant to die, then."
"Yeah, sort of. Appreciate that you didn't. I quite like being able to rely on a friendship with someone who isn't Arthur again," Merlin shrugged helplessly before continuing. "Once I realized what I'd done, that I'd sent him back, I tried doing the same to myself. I killed myself and sent my soul back just before I died. That way, my younger soul would've died along with my older body. Can't have another version of myself running around in some... alternate future. Don't trust myself enough to let something like that happen."
At that, Lancelot kept quiet for a moment. He was entirely unsure of how to respond. The fact that he'd evidently originally been a dead man may have turned out the least of his worries. The entire situation seemed impossibly morbid, yet he could understand why it may have appeared the only logical solution in Merlin's eyes. Still, he had some reservations about the situation, and even more inquiries about the consequences.
"And, you're sure that you died?"
Merlin paused, clearly not expecting that question.
"What?" he asked.
The knight donned an inquisitive yet worried expression. "When you'd...when you killed yourself," he specified. "You're entirely sure that you were to die before you sent yourself back?"
"I cut my own throat," Merlin stated simply, a bit too casually. "I have doubts that I could have survived something like that."
Lancelot winced in response. He was used to death and events of gore, of course. He'd killed and maimed men before. It was part of his everyday work to be well versed in both of those things. Though, imagining either of those things in regards to the people he cared about proved to be difficult even for him. Imagining it about one of his closest friends, about Merlin, proved even worse.
"Well, I believe you two should have a conversation with each other," Lancelot suggested. "You and Arthur. A real one, not a shouting match. You have to talk to each other like men sometime or another to get this straightened out."
The sorcerer nodded. "Right."
"And," the knight continued, a bit slower. "Perhaps attempt to have some privacy, whenever you do."
"...Right," Merlin replied again, averting his eyes sheepishly.
Something in Uther seemed to have changed.
As Arthur explained the situation to his father, he was more than glad to have his men to back him up. The laid-back attitudes and occasional quips of the others through his report - Gwaine and Leon specifically - did a touch to calm Arthur's nerves as he thoroughly lied about the fate of the dragon egg.
Where it had actually gone, he had no idea, and quite frankly didn't care enough to have directly asked Merlin himself. Once it was quite literally out of his hands, he promptly considered the entire ordeal to be in the same respect, though it was still a secret he'd more than planned to keep. He went through the motions of describing Borden's fate, their trek through the forest, and the eventual collapse of the tower after they'd "attempted" to retrieve the egg. It hadn't taken much altering to make the story convincing, but Arthur would have liked for Lancelot to have been there to back him up instead of excusing himself once they'd entered the gates of the kingdom.
Moments passed after Arthur concluded, each man waiting for the king's judgement.
The expression on his face was nearly unreadable, though the prince could see slight apprehension.
"My knights, you are all dismissed," Uther spoke, raising a hand. "I wish to speak with my son alone."
Here we go, Arthur groaned to himself.
Even Elyan seemed to shoot him a sympathetic stare as he and the others filed through the doors.
The sound of them closing was deafening in the silence as father and son made eye contact.
"I don't like it," Uther stated bluntly. "Understand that I did not want for you to fail in your mission by any means and that the egg's destruction is tremendous news for the future of Camelot, but this arrangement you've pushed has put me in a rather compromising position. I cannot fathom how you see this as a wise decision."
If Arthur knew one thing, it was that he wanted more than the world to end the conversation. He bowed his head and leveled his voice. "Believe me when I say that I understand your frustration, father, but Merlin has proven himself countless times to be an ally to Camelot. In times like these, we have to keep those loyal to our kingdom, not drive them away. Surely, you must know this."
Uther inched himself closer and shouted in a burst of anger. "The closer we allow magic users into our quarters, the easier it is for them to wipe us all out!"
"If Merlin possessed any magic to speak of, why would I still be alive and well after all this time?" Arthur challenged, raising his voice to the same level as his father's.
It crossed his mind that he technically wasn't either of those things, but he put that from his thoughts for the time being, as it seemed at least to resonate with Uther in a small way. Or, at the very least, he seemed to be unable to immediately argue against it. Of course, that didn't mean that Uther was happy about it, just that he was silent for the time being, and Arthur nearly felt ashamed to think that either was for the moment equally as appealing. Merlin would never be a purposeful threat to him. Not in any universe, not in any circumstance that permitted Merlin to have full control of his actions. That much, Arthur was absolutely sure of, and he would defend such to his dying breath if his father dared to dispute against it.
The prince hadn't noticed how close his father was until Uther backed away, turning his back on his son and bowing his head to the ground.
"Leave me," Uther said simply.
Arthur couldn't get out into the hall fast enough.
Unfortunately, he had no time to relax as he realized his uncle was standing by the wall, arms folded behind his back.
It was evident from the way Agravaine was standing that he'd been waiting specifically for Arthur to finish his conversation with his father, which really just made him even more exasperated. No - not exasperated - absolutely fatigued. In all reality, Arthur wanted more than anything to have avoided his uncle at any and all opportunities. Whatever it was that Agravaine wished to speak about, he hoped in his head that it wouldn't take up too much of his time. Time he could be spending with people he could actually put his trust in. Time he could be spending with people who likely didn't want him dead. Far preferable, if you asked him.
"I'm sure you've much business to take care of," Agravaine said in a way that made it clear he hadn't actually cared about that, a smile that Arthur identified as fake adorning his face. "I will make this brief. Your father wished for me to speak with you."
In an automatic response, Arthur groaned and rubbed a hand on his cheek. "If this is about Merlin, let me tell you, I am far past the point of wanting to hear it."
His uncle frowned.
"The king is understandably rather distressed. I would like to trust his judgement fully," he prevaricated with an ease that set the prince on edge. "Unfortunately, I fear he's been put under much...strain, especially in the recent years. The tribulation with Morgana, his various experiences with magic as of late - I am sure that you can empathize, yes? This, on top of Camelot's forces suppressing raiders from our civil enemies, I am unsurprised that Uther would conclude that any number of his allies are secretly his enemies regardless of reason or logic."
Arthur's eyes widened in vague remembrance. "Caerleon?"
He recalled the ordeal with them, with the rulers themselves. It ended up resulting in one of the biggest mistakes of his life, looking back with a clearer head.
Ah.
It'd been under Agravaine's influence that Arthur was strayed from his path to ruling a stable kingdom.
A certain anxiety filled his stomach as he wondered what that influence could do to a man like Uther.
"That, and I would be lying if that all was the end of Uther's worries," Agravaine continued, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts. "That woman you're often seen with - the servant - you cannot be under the impression that you are at all subtle. A future king, courting a common civilian? A servant, no less. Your father is rather unhappy with the possibility of that, though how he's not figured that it's a reality is beyond me."
Arthur resisted the urge to literally shrug him off and opted for averting his eyes instead, speaking in a reserved and dejected tone. "Yes, well, my father is rather unhappy with many things regarding me at the moment. And in the case that you've forgotten, one of the men I trust most happens to be both of those."
It wasn't hard to notice how Agravaine visibly faltered.
"That, I assure you, I am fully aware of," he responded cryptically before turning away, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Your father is, as well."
Before Arthur could respond, or even hope to ask the meaning behind his uncle's words, Agravaine was already halfway down the corridor.
He knew well that what his father wanted for him was nothing like the direction he'd been going, but he wondered with dread just how far off course he was.
Yet, by the time he began making his way to Gaius, Arthur felt that he was far more willing to collapse in a heap of exhaustion instead of think anymore about what his father wanted for him.
A soft breeze blew against Guinevere's skin as she stared out the open sill.
It had been a few days since she'd last spoken with Arthur. Though she'd wanted to have seen him off when him and the others departed, she couldn't bring herself to approach him. There'd been a strange tension in the air that she couldn't quite describe, one that didn't stop with just him. She'd felt it with Lancelot, as well. Something felt off, an underlying sense of wrongness that Gwen could feel in her bones and blanketing the entire kingdom. Yet no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much thought she put into figuring it out, she just couldn't pinpoint the source.
A hand on her shoulder made her jump.
When she turned around and saw who it was, she let out a huff of relief and familiarity. "Elyan. I have to say, I wasn't expecting you here."
"Weren't you?" he responded with a grin, one reserved for only her. "Figured I'd drop in - give you some information on what's going on - because I imagine Arthur hasn't."
Immediately, her smile disappeared and she rolled her eyes. "So you've noticed."
"Hard not to've."
Letting out a sigh, Gwen's shoulders sank low. "Arthur's been...he's pulled back lately, I think."
Her brother nodded in understanding.
"Yeah. Noticed he didn't even see you off when we left. I thought that was strange, but I have to admit, the king's seemed to have gotten a bit more strict on his relationships. If I blame anyone for Arthur's distance lately, Uther's my first bet," Elyan set down his equipment on the ground and paused, then began shaking his head. "You know he accused Merlin of sorcery? Merlin. Isn't the first time, sure, but after all these years? The fact he hasn't cursed Arthur yet is proof enough of his innocence, in my book."
Her attention was quickly taken off the initial issue and her head jerked toward him in alarm. "Merlin was accused of sorcery? When? And why on Earth - ?"
As he formulated a reply, she took a quick look at his carefully placed armor and sword, analyzing the chain links and chipped metal. It wasn't the first time she'd wished to herself that she'd be given an opportunity to improve that which the knights protecting her home used on a daily basis; to be perfectly fair, the work of her late father was nothing short of masterful, but she knew better than anyone else the upkeep needed for such metalwork was not being performed properly. Her knowledge as a blacksmith's daughter was often both a blessing and a curse.
She understood better than anyone that Uther would never allow her to. Not after putting her father to death.
She shook her head. No time to be worrying about such things.
"Your guess is as good as mine, I'd say. The king was...vague, I think the right word would be. Said he saw Merlin perform magic but didn't tell much other than that, except that the mission being a success meaning he'd drop the trial," he averted his eyes and gave a sigh. "Didn't think to ask Merlin or Arthur about any more details than that when we were out looking for the egg."
Gwen promptly raised an eyebrow at him.
He gave a relenting huff.
Somehow, despite them not having much opportunity to spend time together, Gwen still managed to be the only one able to see through his passivity.
"Yeah, alright, I did think to. But you should've seen them, Guinevere. I can't begin to explain what the tension between them was like, let alone figure out the reason behind it. I thought it was just because of the trial, but..."
She frowned in response. "It wasn't?"
After letting out a short laugh, he shook his head. "Not that I'm aware. I might not've even noticed if I didn't see that Lancelot noticed."
He didn't miss her head perking up when he said the knight's name, but he refrained from commenting on it. Before he had the chance to, however, Gwen began her response with a far-away look.
"I worry about Uther. I have worried about him for quite some time, but it's gotten worse in the recent years. No - not about him, exactly - but his rule," she leaned her side against the wall, hugging her arms. "Social tensions are high. There's unrest everywhere, you know? You should hear the men on the pave and in the taverns, all talk of class revolts throughout the Five Kingdoms. Tír-Mòr seems to have fallen the same way as Southron, from what I've heard about the feuds surrounding the heir. They're both in near anarchy, now, and I still hear those who say it's worse here. They compare Uther's recent actions to how Sarrum treats his people over in Amata, and I can't even bring myself to blame them, Elyan!"
To both stop her and console her, he put a hand on her shoulder.
Her voice died down, as did her hysteria, and Elyan rubbed his neck. "I'll...I'll be honest, I hadn't heard about all that."
Gwen let out a noise that sounded either like a laugh or a scoff, though he wasn't sure what difference it would have made. "I likely shouldn't be telling this all to a knight. Could be thought of as treasonous if it reaches the wrong ears."
"Well, I could be tried for treason myself for saying this, but I believe my loyalties to family are my first priority," he paused and allowed a small smile to work its way across his face. "And if you asked Leon, I'd imagine he'd agree."
Taken aback, Gwen jerked her head up.
"Leon?"
At her confusion, Elyan's eyes softened. "Yeah. He's missed you, you know? We've been speaking more lately. I think he wants you to know that you can confide in him if you wish; I'd definitely recommend it, really. He's surprisingly wise. And don't forget that he sees you as nothing less than a sister, alright?"
Her heart warmed at that.
In truth, she'd missed Leon, as well. The thought that her childhood friend could have felt even the slightest bit empty without her presence in the same way was touching and, at least temporarily, allowed her to push aside the worries of the world.
"If you'll pardon me," Elyan turned to grab his belongings. "Got an audience with the pub."
Gwen smiled and crossed her arms. "Leaving already?"
Ignoring her quip, or perhaps in response to it, he turned to pull her into an embrace, hitting her with a wave of surprise. Yes, her and Elyan had been close. Very close, in fact. Yet, she knew Elyan wasn't too often one to instigate affection unless in certain situations. Though she supposed this, them having not seen each other for a time and being alone, was one such situation. It always felt nice to connect with each other, no matter how rare it was that they'd have any chance to.
"Try not to pull away, too, now. I've missed you."
It only occurred to her later, long after her brother had left, that her concerns over Arthur were temporarily entirely forgotten.
"From your expression, I imagine you've spoken with your father."
It was Gaius's voice which stopped Arthur just as he was entering through the doorway.
He wondered just how weary he must have appeared for the man to have noticed right away. Though, to be entirely truthful, Arthur would have insisted that it was his interactions with his uncle that tired him out far more than those with his father. Paranoia regarding Agravaine had only continued to plague his mind and, unfortunately, they seemed not to be getting any easier to handle. Whether his father approved of his actions and decisions or not, however, seemed to be growing less and less important to him. He figured that came from his time having dealt with Uther's passing and decidedly pushed the thought from his mind.
The prince closed the creaking door and kept himself from rolling his eyes at the scenes replaying in his head. "He's kept his word. That's what matters," he spoke simply, not wanting to go into it any further than he needed to.
"Good news, at the least. On a lighter note," the older man began, thankfully changing the subject. "Have you learned anything helpful from that book you borrowed from Merlin's quarters?"
If Arthur could have given Gaius credit on anything concerning social skills, it was his ability to read the tone of a situation and react accordingly. If only Merlin took that on while working under the man, he found himself thinking, and thought back instead to the book itself than to anything else concerning the sorcerer. He'd skimmed through it briefly, yes, but he'd been rather preoccupied since obtaining it and was unable to do much more. He'd also noticed the emphasis put on the word borrowed, and promptly ignored it. If Merlin asked for it, he'd return it. Not like he had much other insight into the world of magic that was more or less unbiased and at least somewhat objective.
He shrugged and looked to the side.
"Haven't had time for any light reading," though he certainly wished he did. "Concerned the Old Religion more than anything and I can't say I know too terribly about that. And, well, magic - that exists everywhere in the world - but the practice of it? The creation of structure surrounding it all? That stems from the Old Gods and Goddesses, that much I know. But do you really believe in all that?"
"Many who use magic do. Your sister was particularly religious."
Arthur snorted in response, rolling his eyes. "Well, that's a word. I'd say fanatical fits just a bit better."
Predictably, Gaius cocked his head to the side, words and tone considerably more leveled. "Hard blaming one of the Nine for her devotion."
One of the Nine.
Arthur couldn't have been less interested in involving himself in that aspect of his sister's life.
He shook his head and furrowed his brows in confusion. "No, but you," he specified, pointing to the older man. "Those beliefs, what do you make of them?"
"There are many theories, as I'm sure you've gathered," Gaius gave a light shrug and began rearranging the bottles on his shelves, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the prince. Arthur imagined it was likely on purpose. "Some say the gods are part of this Earth, right beneath our feet. Others believe they live in the heavens, some plane above us we can't even fathom, or the air around us. Still others claim they existed in mortal form many centuries ago; that the Triple Goddess herself sleeps among this Earth - or, at least, that she had before. People of Albion rarely follow the Old Religion, so finding a consistent belief is nigh impossible in this day and age."
"You still haven't answered my question," Arthur pushed, curiosity now burning intensely. "What do you follow?"
Gaius's hands faltered, glass clinking together.
Just before the man could respond, a door swung open, and Arthur looked up in alarm.
His surprised turned to a mix of confusion and a strange frustration once he gathered who it was. Well - both of who. Merlin, he was expecting, and the warlock's presence didn't disappoint. It was technically the one place in Camelot that could be considered his home, after all, and where else would he have gone off to after their return from the mission? Perhaps to hide the egg, he reasoned in his head, but the sorcerer likely already had plenty of time to have taken care of that. On top of it all, Gaius was one of the only people who knew full well their situation and could give decent advice, all things considered.
Lancelot, however, he was not expecting.
"This is where you'd gone off to, then?" Arthur asked rhetorically, not even trying to hide the vague sense of enmity in his voice. He wasn't sure what he was actually mad at or why, but he at least knew that he was mad.
"Sorry for leaving you to the king," the knight responded, evidently choosing the reason for Arthur. Right. That was why he was upset. He latched onto that idea. "Couldn't risk having to go to sleep without getting some sort of explanation for what exactly's going on. I was a bit confused after all that. Still am, really."
It seemed Merlin was more than ready to move on from the conversation, for whatever reason, and he directed his attention to Arthur.
"Had to talk to you," he stated flatly. "Agravaine is a traitor."
A moment of silence passed.
"Right," Merlin nodded slowly, expression unchanging. "Yes, we know that."
To the side, Lancelot scratched the back of his neck and coughed, "News to me."
While Merlin shot his friend an apologetic look, Arthur's gaze remained fixated on the wall, clearly deep in thought. It was often easy to forget all that Lancelot wasn't aware of.
The prince ran a hand through his hair. "I'd been so blind, Merlin. Was it not obvious? I'm so...obsessed with surrounding myself with trustworthy people that I put my absolute devotion into those clearly undeserving of it."
Where this borderline humbleness came from, Merlin had zero idea.
Was that why he'd come? Why he wanted to talk to Merlin? Ever since his death, Arthur seemed far too ready to admit to his faults, especially those in the actions he'd made in the past.
Perhaps it wasn't humbleness, having thought about it for a moment. Perhaps it was simple self-loathing.
Merlin could relate.
"He's family," Merlin said simply, swallowing. He wasn't sure why he'd wanted to comfort the prince after he'd stated something as accurate as that self-observation. "Perhaps not the closest, but it is difficult to blame you for wanting to trust your own blood."
In response, Arthur gave an incredulous look, eyebrows shooting up to the heavens. "Is it? In - in case you haven't noticed, blood or no blood, my family hasn't had quite the best history with trustworthiness. At what point am I finally meant to learn from that? Just how many times must I be betrayed by the people closest to me before I start looking into blatantly suspicious behavior, exactly? Tensions between Camelot and the other kingdoms are higher than ever - what exactly is it that we should expect to happen? That it'll get any better under my father's rule? While he's got Agravaine as his advisor, especially!"
To be fair, in retrospect, it began sounding more like his turmoil had more to do with his father than his uncle, but the idea of dwelling on the implications of that made Arthur's stomach churn in a disgust solely directed at himself.
With a blink and a shrug, Merlin's expression hardened and he narrowed his eyes. "So, I kill Agravaine. Problem solved."
There he went again.
It wasn't, 'we kill Agravaine,' it was a rather definite, 'I kill Agravaine.'
"Oh, let's just kill all of our problems, while we're at it," the prince hissed with far less disdain than he'd intended to get across in his tone of voice. It wasn't as if he was one to talk, and the idea that Merlin would have murdered his uncle without question or issue in response to Arthur's vocalized worries made him feel both annoyed and something else that was, for the moment, unidentifiable, and he went with conveying the former. Annoyance was much easier to work with.
In his opinion, at least.
"Arthur, you know perfectly well what I mean," Merlin huffed in irritation. "The longer we stay here and change things, the less we'll be able to predict. And I, for one, wouldn't want Agravaine to be anywhere near the list of unpredictable things. Would you?"
Though the former king was more than ready to give a quick retort, the question stopped him.
His glare softened and nearly disappeared altogether. "No, I suppose not," he answered.
"Right," Lancelot quickly slipped past Arthur, giving a short wave to Merlin and a pat on the shoulder to the prince. "I'll be seeing myself out for the night, then."
The two only acknowledged him with a nod, not even taking their eyes off of each other.
Above all else, Arthur knew within himself that Merlin was right. He hated it, but it was true. Everything from that point on would become increasingly difficult to predict the more they altered events, not that it was entirely avoidable by that point. Still, he couldn't quite say that he had any idea of what exactly they would be getting into or what they would encounter as a result of their combined actions. He wouldn't have said that he was against the idea of Agravaine dying all over again, but there remained something inherently wrong about it. And on top of that, the traitor would likely only grow more insidious as the days passed of him being seemingly undetected.
That uncertainty was quite possibly what frightened him the most.
Merlin was the first to break eye contact after what felt like an eternity. It took Arthur a moment to realize that Gaius wasn't in the room with them anymore, either, and he wondered how that happened without him noticing.
Before he could wonder for too long, though, the sorcerer began speaking.
"We have to…" Merlin trailed off, as if he'd wanted to say something and stopped himself from doing so. "We need to make a plan of what to do next," he finally decided on.
Though the bleakness of where Morgana had been hiding out was a given every time Agravaine stepped foot inside, it truly showed when she was particularly unhappy with him.
And, in this case, it was quite the understatement to claim that she was merely unhappy.
She eventually let go of his throat, but only once he'd nearly passed out.
He was fairly sure there were marks under his chin where she clawed her nails into his skin.
"My dear brother, protecting someone of magic?" she scoffed and averted her eyes, gaze filled with intensity. Thankfully, she'd decided to keep her distance and leaned a hand on the far wall. "That's either laughable or infuriating. Both, even. You're certain you hadn't misheard?"
Before she even finished asking the question, he'd already started shaking his head. Agravaine readily anticipated her utter disbelief long before confronting her for the reason that he'd honestly still been feeling it as well. Though Arthur was never quite as forceful nor vocal about his opposition to magic as Uther, it came out clear in the way he spoke of it when given the chance and thus made the idea of him knowingly working alongside one of magic nigh unfathomable.
Agravaine wanted to have heard the conversation incorrectly, but the more he replayed it in his mind, the less he could justify the words as meaning anything else.
"I can assure you that I've made no mistake in simply relaying to you what I heard, my Lady," he responded, only telling the partial truth in retrospect. "I'd planned to take care of him immediately so as not to worry you with irrelevant forces, but as I'd already explained I was unfortunately unable to seize an opportunity."
Her lips pursed in consideration.
It was at that point before that she'd completely lost her temper at him, so he considered it a drastic improvement.
A few moments passed as she seemed to wrack her brain for a possible solution. Morgana brought a hand to her mouth and bit her nail, letting out an audible breath.
"Magic or no magic, Merlin may be of use to us regardless," she suddenly stated, head perking up with what appeared to be newfound inspiration. There was a peculiar spark in her eyes as she continued. "We're both more than aware that Arthur is rather fond of the boy. It shouldn't prove difficult to use that to our advantage. Our best outcome is Merlin has no magic after all and we can harm Arthur through him, yes? Worst outcome - well - in that case, we can eliminate one threat and damage another all in one go. It carries more risk yet more reward."
Agravaine resisted letting out a sigh of relief. "Then, you understand the threat he could pose."
"Well, you will understand that you haven't convinced me," she spoke at the end of a biting laugh, clearly a command more than a request, "but you've certainly piqued my curiosity."
That was far better than nothing, he decided.
"In that case, we must act quickly," he insisted, wishing to the Gods that she would see where his distress was coming from. "If the boy is allowed to live much longer, there is no telling what he could do or what he could do to hinder our plans."
With a huff, she turned to him and gave a smile that seemed a gorgeous sort of wicked.
"Now, let's not be brash. We need him in our grasp before we decide exactly what to do with him."