Title: The legend of a Warlock who Served the Once and Future King
Author: Lamiabellascrittore
Rating: M+
Warnings: Violence, sexual content, adult situations and more- deal with it. There is more to come.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, or any of the characters. If I did, there would be seasons six, seven, eight, and so on, and a movie, of course.
Edited leave a review and give me your thoughts on the new changes. Please be kind.
The Legend of Emrys
We can't start this legend at the very beginning
for the very beginning is lost in the void beyond memory-
So, we start with a Warlock...
A man born with tragedy in his blood-
After all, he was the one who lived...
Chapter 1
A Reckless Decision
The sun shone bright on Camelot. The city was busted with urgency as news of Morgana reached her walls. Arthur scrambled to be ready for the day. He was in poor form after the night he had. He, some of the Knights and Merlin went to the tavern for some light drinking, some games and gambling. A few drinks turned into many, many more. His head pounded something awful and his mouth was as dry as sawdust.
Merlin was in rare form last night. He won most of the coin. Arthur suspected he cheated. So Arthur kept half an eye on him. Something happened though, after the Knights left. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Merlin and Arthur didn't end the night on a good cord. Whatever happened, Merlin took the brunt of Arthur's ire.
"Merlin," Arthur hollered from across his bed chambers. "Merlin!" Arthur huffed. "Where are you?"
There was a loud thunk from under Arthur's bed. "Yeah," a muffled voice replied. "Yes, I'm here." Merlin crawled out from under it.
"What are you doing under there?" Arthur asked bewildered.
"Cleaning," Merlin frowned. "Why else would I be under your bed?"
Arthur's eyes shone with humor. He gestured at Merlin. "You, um, got some dust in your hair."
Merlin shook his head out with several agitated jerks. A small cloud of dust haloed him. "Do you know how dirty it is under there?" Merlin coughed. "It's like an entire world all its own."
Arthur's lip twitched. He couldn't help but laugh. Merlin looked ridiculous. Though, Arthur did feel a bit bad. He looked at him closely. The left side of Merlin's face was bruised and he had a split lip, and small limp.
The other night they went out to the tavern to celebrate Merlin's birthday, and things got heated. Arthur regrets the fight but he had good reason. He just chooses not to dwell on it. Merlin glared at him.
"That is not funny." Merlin snapped. "It would be entirely different if you were the one under that monstrous bed. I'm sure that if you were in my position, and cleaning my chamber's, you would feel much the same way." Merlin paused. "Why are you so messy? It's not hard to pick up after yourself."
He shook his head at Merlin's odd, yet completely normal rant. Arthur glanced at him over his shoulder. His gut twisted at the sight of him. He felt like such an ass having beat the ever loving hell out of him, and on his birthday of all days but they were drunk. Merlin confided in him and Arthur, honestly couldn't be held responsible for his actions.
Arthur was shocked, hurt and scared for Merlin. He felt betrayed and yet he felt like the betrayer. He didn't want to remember all of what happened but he remembered enough that it set him on edge.
Arthur pulled on his black leather gloves. There wasn't a thing he could say to what Merlin said. It was true. Arthur didn't know what it meant to be a servant who cleaned and cooked and served a King.
However, Arthur did know how to serve a Kingdom. He knew how to defend her. He knew what it meant to be beholden to something greater than himself. So, in a sense he was a servant to Camelot, and her people.
Arthur watched Merlin for a moment longer. He was quietly making Arthur's bed. Sometimes Arthur felt like Merlin deserved a better life than being a King's servant. He was destined for greater things perhaps, but he chose to be here serving Arthur for reasons that were still unknown to him.
Arthur sighed. "Merlin?"
"Hmm?" Merlin hummed.
"I need you to saddle the horses." Arthur announced. "Gather the rest of the supplies. The kitchen help already knows and has prepared our food for travel."
"Where are we going?" Merlin asked as he finished Arthur's bed. They watched, in silence, as the coverlet settled over the kingly bed.
Arthur cleared his throat. "More of Morgana's men have been spotted on Camelot's borders. She has begun to attack the outer villages. She looks for a man named Emrys." Arthur emphasized the name.
Arthur pressed his lips together in a frown. His eyes continued to follow Merlin. The name was familiar, and something significant happened last night for the name to send chills down his spine, and genuine fear for Merlin seeped from his pores. Faded memories fought through a fog in his mind. How drunk were they the other night?
Flashes of Merlin's scared eyes begging and pleading for Arthur to stop hurting him. He remembered the feel of his blood on his hand and the crunch of bone when his foot rammed his ribs and came down on his leg. Arthur was rather impressed that Merlin was even out of bed, and doing chores no less.
"We're to ride out and assess the damage." Arthur continued. It took him a moment to break out of his thoughts.
"Wasn't Leon and a few others going on patrol?" Merlin wondered aloud.
He limped around the bed and stood before Arthur. Arthur wanted to apologize for hurting him but refused untill he knew the full reason why he went off on his friend. Merlin doesn't seem to hold a grudge so it must not be a reason that didn't call for an ass whooping.
"They were." Arthur hedged. "Until I found out that the last four patrols I had sent were attacked. The last one never returned." Arthur said with little room left to debate. No way would he risk more men on something he was not willing to do himself.
Merlin didn't say a word. Once Arthur made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it, only joining along. The king turned on his heels and left his chambers.
Arthur worried. His gut was in knots. They were only going in another patrol's stead so that Camelot wouldn't lose any more of her knights. He has to let them know that Arthur and Merlin were riding out instead of the group formerly designated. He should have told them sooner, but they would have insisted on accompanying him.
Besides, Arthur needed them to guard the Queen while he was away. That way his mind was clear of fear for her. Whenever Arthur left the castle he feared what would happen to Guinevere here alone, even with so many knights.
What if Morgana attacked and Arthur wasn't there to protect her?
Today was no different. Morgana could easily bowl through the Knights to get to Guinevere if she so wished. Even now, as Arthur took the spiraling stone stairs two at a time to reach the armory, his doubts only intensified.
However, when has that ever stopped him from doing what must be done? Especially when it was for the better of his kingdom? Never.
Merlin had a bad feeling about this endeavor. Morgana has been strangely quiet these last few months after King Uther's death, and that wasn't like her. The frequent and sudden discovery of her warriors were more than troubling. She was either testing them, distracting them, or luring Arthur out into the woods, which was most likely.
Merlin sighed heavily. He turned and left the king's chambers with a ladened down heart. He needed to gather the supplies for the patrol. Even if he didn't agree with it, he was still going to follow his king into the ambush, Merlin was sure that is what this was.
He headed in the direction of the court physician, Giaus, who has become like a father to him. He also had magic, but seldom used it after Uther instigated the great purge. They were friends as young men, just as Arthur and Merlin are. The former king spared Giaus as long as he vowed to give up his gift and stay on as court physician. Not many knew of his past, and it was good to stay that way. At least until Albion came to fruition.
Merlin followed the winding stone staircase down to his shared chambers; the walls seemed unusually tight. As if they were closing in on him. Merlin entered his quarters and was immediately greeted by Giaus' warm and calming voice. It helped settle Merlin's nerves.
"Ah, there you are, my boy." Giaus greeted fondly. "I understand you and King Arthur will be leaving this afternoon?" He sounded troubled.
Merlin nodded. "Yeah." He murmured. "I guess word travels fast."
"No, I just know the King's patterns. " Giaus pointed out. "The last patrol never returned. I wager he wants to go on the next patrols instead of endangering more knights. Yes?"
Merlin nodded, despondent. "Morgana is making noise in the outer villages." Merlin frowned. "Arthur insists we go and assess the damage."
"Are you at least bringing some Knights with you?" Giaus asked as he helped Merlin gather his medical supplies.
"I hope so." Merlin grumbled. He sighed sharply, the feeling of unease worsening. "But, knowing Arthur," Merlin paused to make a face, scrunching up his nose. "He wouldn't want to endanger any of his Knights by taking them into a situation that could get them killed."
Despite the danger, Merlin bet that Arthur never even thought of leaving him behind. Merlin also wondered if it even crossed his mind that there was even the slightest possibility that Merlin would not return with him from a patrol, or even battle; and on many occasions, if Merlin hadn't had magic, he would have died a hundred times over.
"Even so," Giaus grumbled none too happily. "He should bring some men with you." Giaus worried, not even trying to hide his concern.
"What? Don't you have faith that I could protect Arthur?" Merlin jokes.
Giaus looked at him for a long moment. His heart was heavy and his soul ached at what he saw in this young man's eyes. Such strength, hope and light. But there was darkness too. A hollowness that Giaus didn't want to acknowledge. It was resignation...with a bitter twist. There was hate in the young Warlock's heart. Giaus had seen this look before. On rare occasions when a man feels the call of death more loudly than life.
This was exactly what he warned him of. He remembered Merlin smiling over his dinner bowl and joking that nothing could make him turn bitter and angry like Morgana, well, no one but Arthur. But it was no joking matter. Life has been non-stop, and up close, Giaus saw the toll of the weight of Albion on his shoulders.
"I have plenty of faith in you, my boy," Giaus assured. He was cautioned with his next words. "I have no doubt you will protect Arthur to your last breath, if need be. However..." Giaus looked pained. "Who will be watching out for you to make sure you come home?"
I'm not going to die, Giaus. Merlin wanted to say.
Instead, he turned away from him and gathered the last of his supplies. He sealed the medical pouch Giaus gave him for his travels and shrugged the straps of both bags over each of his shoulders. He turned back to Gaius.
Merlin looked at the man who took him in, even knowing the consequences of harboring a warlock, and still treated Merlin like kin, protecting him.
"I am Emrys." Merlin said simply. "It is my destiny to make sure Arthur assumes the throne, and help ensure he keeps it. Arthur is the Once and Future King. I will do what I must to protect him." Merlin squared his shoulders. He looked Gaius in the eyes. Pale blue on striking Cerulean. "Even if I have to sacrifice the last shred of myself to save Arthur, and Camelot." Merlin shrugged, the bags higher up in his shoulders. They bounced against his hips.
He had become resigned to his fate a long time ago. When he first stumbled into the crystal caves he wasn't sure how to take the information given. However, as time went on Merlin started to see the people around him for what they really were, not what they used to be or what they were supposed to be, but the damaged and broken people they let themselves become. It all became clear. Mordred was Arthur's bane. Merlin's eyebrows came together in worry. Or rather Arthur was Arthur's bane and that Morgana's betrayal went deeper than Merlin could ever imagine.
Not long after the death of Freya, when Merlin felt he would shatter from her loss, Morgana came into his heart and he began to heal. A love bloomed and bonded them in a way that he didn't, or rather couldn't understand until now, and the revelation that Merlin was Morgana's destiny and doom haunted him. But he had made his choice and there was no going back. The moment Merlin tried to poison Morgana was the moment everything changed. He had a choice to make, and her life was near to insignificant when it came to the well-being of an entire kingdom, and her King.
Merlin forced his gaze to meet the old man's cloudy blue ones once more. He hadn't even noticed he had been staring at the wall just beyond Gaius. "My heart be damned," Merlin rumbled, voice gruff. "Morgana Pendragon will die by the time this war has ended."
"For all our sake, my boy, I hope it happens soon." Giaus said, patting his ward on the shoulder and gave Merlin a tight hug before he left to finish his rounds in the castle.
Merlin gave a wistful smile to the empty air where Giaus had just been standing. Merlin shook himself and left their chamber with a heavy heart and twisted gut.
This feeling of dread, a dark foreboding cloud, still clung to him with sharp ragged claws. He couldn't shake it. He walked to the kitchens still swathed in that dense fog. He spotted the bags on a table filled with pots, pans and baked bread.
He grabbed for the two satchels that the kitchen help left for their trip. He shrugged the bags over his shoulders and grabbed a hot loaf of fresh sour-doe bread but paused as he brought the loaf up for a bite.
He suddenly had this uncomfortably strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked around, his arms back by his sides. The loaf of bread crushed with his clenched fist. He suddenly had this surreal thought, or rather knowledge, that he wasn't going to see the kitchens, let alone the palace, in a very, very long time, if at all.
He shook his head to rid himself of the weird thought. Merlin grabbed the last waiting bag with their food supplies, and piled them on his shoulder with the others and walked back out feeling much like a pack mule.
Merlin meandered through the corridors not really registering or caring that Arthur was waiting on him. Merlin feared what was to come. He had this dangerous foreboding that this was just a ruse to get Arthur away from the protection that the castle and the knights provided.
This annoying and oddly prophetic 'funny feeling' he has had him a bit skittish. IMerlin was so wound up by the time he finished gathering supplies that he was jumping at shadows. So when he rounded a corner too fast and he ran right into the Queen, his heart nearly stopped.
With a light curse he fell back into the wall, his bags fell to the floor in a messy pile at his sides. His magic stirred, jumping to his defense on instinct, wanting to protect him from even imaginary threats. Gold flecks danced in the depths of his sapphire eyes accentuating his power like a noose tightening around his neck.
"Merlin!" Guinevere exclaimed, jumping forward to help balance him.
"Gwen," Merlin said in relief.
He bowed his head in greeting, more to hide the look of a startled deer in his eyes and less a show of respect. Although he did respect her, he felt her equal and therefore didn't feel the need to bow like someone beneath her even though that's what his station demanded. They were friends first.
Merlin jumped when Guinevere touched his shoulder. His nerves would kill him long before Morgana had the chance.
Merlin knelt down to gather his spilled supplies "I didn't mean to- I wasn't paying attention-" Merlin stopped. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, irritated with himself. "I'm sorry I knocked into you."
"Are you alright, Merlin?" She asked as she bent down to help him gather the four bags on the ground surrounding him. "It's not like you to be so out of it." Guinevere gently prodded. "Clumsy, maybe," she chuckled melodically. "But never be so distracted." She handed him his things to repack.
What could he say to her that wouldn't lead to more questions. Questions that he couldn't answer? So, he shrugged. He tied the four bags shut, slung them back over his shoulders and stood up. He offered her his hand. She took it gently. He helped her to her feet.
"What are you doing in this part of the castle?" She asked. She watched him closely.
Merlin looked around as if he just now realized where he was. He had been headed to Arthur's bed chambers, not the square where he was supposed to be. He shook his head, trying to clear it. It was dangerous for him to be so distracted. It could get him killed. It could get Arthur killed.
"Do you want to talk about what has made you so distracted?" She asked gently. She looked breathtakingly elegant in her gold and red gown and gold ruby studded crown.
Merlin shook his head mutely and released her hand. He couldn't dim her day with his sour feelings. Guinevere was a gentle soul, even if she could handle herself in a fight as well as any knight, she was ultimately a lover not a fighter. That was Arthur and Merlin's job. Arthur with his sword and strength and Merlin with his wit and elemental magic. Quite a formidable pair. Merlin only wished Arthur was able see his worth without prejudice. Merlin frowned. He needed to keep his concerns to himself when it came to the Queen. Merlin didn't feel bad about souring Arthur's day.
"Okay. You don't have to." Guinevere murmured softly. She took Merlin's silent frown as his unwillingness to discuss what was troubling his mind. "Just know that I'm here if you need to talk."
Merlin nodded again, mutely, but a smile graced his handsome face and lightened his eyes immediately
"Merlin?" She hesitated. "Can I ask you a favor?" She asked after a short pause.
"Of course." He said without hesitation.
"Promise me that you and Arthur will be safe." She said seriously. "He has to come home. Both of you have to come home."
"Don't worry, Gwen," Merlin assured with his signature goofy grin. "I'll always take care of Arthur." He said devoutly. "I swear to you, My Queen, on my life, he will come home."
Gwen opened her mouth to reply but a booming voice interrupted.
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice rang down the hall. "There you are." He huffed.
Merlin turned to acknowledge him once before he turned back to the queen, completely aware of his King's glare drilling a hole into the back of his skull. Merlin felt him standing behind him, arms crossed, glaring at him from down the hall, waiting impatiently.
"I'm sorry, Gwen, I have to run." Merlin said apologetically. He turned away, only to pause, and look back at her.
"Well, come on." Arthur rushed.
Merlin ignored him like he so often did and looked into Guinevere's deep emotional brown eyes and saw clearly the poorly concealed dread she harbored in them.
Guinevere waited for Merlin to speak. He seemed like he needed to say something. Merlin's normally bright eyes were dark and cloudy, and something dark thrashed about like a raging sea.
Merlin grit his teeth, his jaw flexed from the force. He knew all too well the feeling of dread. He felt it with every heartbeat, with every moment that the battle of Camlann drew closer. That's how he recognized the look in Guinevere. He saw it in himself.
"Don't worry, Gwen. I promise Arthur will return." Merlin did his best to reassure his Queen. He turned and walked to Arthur's side.
No matter what happened, whether Merlin lived or died, Arthur would return. Merlin would do anything he could to ensure Arthur stayed alive to fulfill their destiny. For as long as he could hold off fate, that was. Fate had a nasty way of catching up with you, and if you weren't careful, while trying to alter it, you could become the very cause of the demise you were trying to avoid.
"I love you, Guinevere. We'll be back soon." Arthur said fondly to his wife. Complete love and adoration in his deep voice. Arthur turned to Merlin as he came up to Arthur's side.
"We haven't got all morning to waste." He said lightly and shoved Merlin on the shoulder, nearly making him drop the bags once more.
Merlin glared and huffed, and Arthur rolled his eyes, as if telling Merlin not to be such a girl. Merlin shook his head, and together they started walking, steps aligned, to the Square where their horses, Hroegen and Llamreil, waited.
"We need to be out of Camelot's borders by tomorrow night," Arthur started. Merlin just nodded along as they headed out of the castle to their waiting horses. Neither ignoring his King, or paying attention.
Guinevere frowned as she watched her men walk away. She hugged herself and shivered. What had Merlin been omitting? His words played over and over in her mind.
I always take care of Arthur. I promise you he will come home. Arthur will return.
That lopsided grin was not as carefree as normal, but sad and guarded. Her gut twisted in fear, more for Merlin, than her husband. She knew Merlin would protect him. But what of Merlin? What would become of the loyal manservant who had no regard for self preservation? She had this feeling that he knew something would happen to keep him from coming home. Her heart squeezed. She feared that she might not see Merlin again. After all, he promised Arthur would make it home, but made no such promise for himself.
Merlin hurried to check the horses; he loaded up the gear and supplies he had hanging over his shoulders. He double checked that they had enough food, and triple checked that he had all the medical supplies he needed just in case they ran into trouble. Which was more than likely to happen at some point considering Arthur and Merlin's ability to attract danger wherever they went.
With an ease that all knights envied, Arthur mounted his Acheronian stallion, Hroegen, in one fluid move. Merlin followed, smoothly jumping into the saddle atop Llamreil, a strong Dapple mare, just as gracefully.
They started their journey east, in a rare silence, that didn't last long. An hour in, Merlin was buzzing with questions.
"Arthur, why didn't you bring any Knights along?" Merlin asked, unable to keep shut any longer. "What kind of suicide mission are we on this time?" He asked, hoping to get a straight answer.
"There are no other Knights because they are home guarding the kingdom as if I were still there." He said as if it was obvious why he didn't have any knights with them.
"Why?" Merlin demanded a bit too harshly for his status.
"Because, Merlin, you can't have a stealth mission when there are dozens of large Knights trampling through the woods. Guinevere needs to be protected while I'm gone." Arthur pointed out with exasperated patience. "Besides, you're an excellent tracker; for the most part. We only need the two of us for this mission."
"Thanks." Merlin said dryly.
After all these years he still hasn't gotten used to Arthur's two sided compliments. It was as if he had a talent for insulting someone while complementing them at the same time.
They rode in companionable silence for another seven hours or so. Arthur longed for Merlin's idiotic babbling and hated the silence around them. It was almost too silent. Only the odd birds call or mewl of woodland creatures put his nerves at ease. It wasn't long before he couldn't take it any longer and this time Arthur broke the silence. He was sick of staring at the back end of a horse.
"What's got your trousers in a bunch?" Arthur asked. He shoved at Merlin's shoulder as he rode past, heading the trail. Merlin stayed a few feet behind him watching their surroundings.
Something had him squirming in his saddle. He still felt something staring at him, and it didn't seem friendly.
"Arthur, something doesn't feel right." He felt eyes follow his every movement, something or someone was watching them for sure.
"One of your funny feelings again, Merlin?" Arthur's laughs softly. Arthur may treat it lightly but he has come to rely on Merlin and his 'funny' feelings.
"Yes," Merlin said, looking around as naturally as possible for what set his instincts roaring. Another bout of silence before Merlin piped up again.
"I don't think that coming out here without any Knights was a smart idea." Merlin said cagily.
"What are you talking about?" Arthur scoffed. "I'm a knight. There's at least one." Arthur grumbled.
"You don't count, Sire. You're the King now. Not just the prince waiting for the throne." He looked at Arthur seriously. "You are a leader to a kingdom in need of peace."
"Yes, and-"
"You're taking unnecessary risks, Arthur." Merlin interrupted, a scowl on his face. His fists tightened on the reins, leeching his knuckles of color.
"And I cannot sit around whilst thousands of innocent people, my people, lose their lives endlessly. My freedom lies in theirs." Arthur said stubbornly. "You don't know what it's like to have this destiny, you can't out run no matter how hard you try. I have my whole life written out and I have no say in any of it."
You'd be surprised, Merlin mumbled, internally scoffing.
Arthur just put words to what Merlin has felt for years, and if only the royal party knew that Merlin's destiny was as intertwined with Arthur's as the roots of a tree are woven into the earth's soil.
Fate had decided that the two needed each other. They were two sides of the same coin, and one cannot survive intact without the other.
Merlin, unlike any other, could relate to Arthur. Merlin got to choose what kind of a man he wanted to be. He could either be kind and merciful, or angry and bitter, like Morgana. Merlin was after all the fated King of the Druids. He was also the son of the last Dragon Lord and Prince of the Dragons. He is Emrys, the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth. His very name means immortal. He is not just a sorcerer, a man who is able to learn to harness magic, but a Warlock, a man born with magic and who is not a follower of the old religion, but a creature of the old religion; up there with the mighty Dragons.
"You're wrong about one thing, Arthur. You do have a say in it. You can choose what kind of King you want to be. Don't ever forget that. But this doesn't mean you have to do things alone. Going out here is not a good idea. You should have allowed Leon or Gwain or Percival, or all three to accompany us."
"You only had to saddle the horses." Arthur said belligerent.
"We shouldn't be here." Merlin huffed.
"No, you shouldn't be here." Arthur said. "I, however, have to. That's what happens when you give your life to serving a Kingdom."
Merlin scoffed. He wasn't even going to touch that sentence with a ten foot stick.
"Have you realized that you never ask me to come with you, or stay behind. I think that you automatically expect me to follow you into hell." Merlin said, defensively. He was caught between amusement and insult.
Arthur and Merlin stayed silent after that as they rode on. Neither of them are willing to break the peaceful silence until necessary.