A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

86. Chapter 86

Eight Hours and Twenty Two Minutes Until their Execution

Gaius carefully peeled up the page in the latest of the many books he'd looked through already as he tried to get a closer look at an illustration covering the parchment. Yes, he thought, seeing the hunch over figure drawn in a shimmering brown ink, that was it. It had taken him over an hour of digging in his bookshelves, and pulling out several books he had pertaining towards creatures that were more magical in nature than not. And make no mistake, Gaius had known the second the creature threw itself at his nephew from the water, claws flying as it tried to make his nephew's face minced meat, it was no ordinary creature. It didn't even seem to be any natural magical creature, one born before growing like the natural order of the world dictates itself, or at least none that he'd known of.

No. A creature like that didn't exist in their world, it was something that had to be made. Something in it had to be created. Had to give this dead lump of rotten claw life for it to move and react, for it to go so far as to attack to protect the territory the clay beast had marked as its own. Obviously, the old physician mused over something he already knew, this sorceress was no amateur. She'd clearly knew what she was doing, as something like this took a real effort to learn. To study. To craft. To master it. To execute it so successfully. Gaius could only be amazed they yet to come across such a powerful sorceress like this one until this week.

It must have taken years of practicing before they were able to pull off such a feat. For them to have been able to successfully create this af…he leaned in closer to better study the name scribed into the top of the page in dark blank ink. This would give Gaius an actual name to call the creatur…this loud thump came from somewhere above his head. So, Gaius' head snapped up, looking towards his own ceiling with a frown. But all he could see were the forming water spots after years of life had started damaging his roof. When nothing happened after a moment, Gaius assumed it could be nothing but his old ears trying to play tricks on him. He found himself going back down to his book, turning his head so he could read the description detailing all about this…

Afan-

The loud thump interrupting him again almost made him feel as if the roof was about to cave in on him. Which was something that had actually happened in his thirties not long after he'd moved in, after becoming the Royal family's personal physician. It wasn't the best 'welcome to the new position' and wasn't something he wanted to live through again. And there was no way it a second sound was just his ears acting up on him. No, this was…something else.

And that something else had just made the third thump on his roof, "What on earth!" Gaius started to grumble under his breath, rising to his feet. He was pretty sure the sound was coming from the direction of Merlin's room, now that he had heard it again and again. And if that boy had managed to wangle another blasted dog up the stairs and into his room…Gaius still had the bite marks decorating his ankle when Merlin had to herd out the dog that was once a statue from their chambers. It became apparent the dog didn't like the way Gaius looked at him, and had tried to attack. But this wasn't any dog, Gaius noted as the door to Merlin's room was flinging open.

"I'm back! Did you find anything yet!" Merlin called down, as he looked at Gaius over the railing at the top of the stairs. Gaius' frown deepened, seeing a new exuberance in his nephew that hadn't been there when he'd stormed off earlier, hell bent like a madman on getting Arthur. And speaking of the prince in question, Merlin was clearly alone. With no blonde haired prince climbing up his makeshift rope ladder to get into the fair Maiden's Tower to rescue her from the horrific creature waiting for a chance to devour her soul.

Luckily, this young maiden didn't need a hero…

"Arthur didn't return with you?" Gaius questioned him. With how Merlin had ran off, leaving Gaius on his own with a mountain of questions in front of the door to the water supply, he could truly feel the surprise when his nephew returned to their chambers empty handed. Gaius would assume his hard headed nephew would have dragged Arthur back here by the hair of his head, before returning here without.

Merlin's entire form seemed to soured at the mere mention of his husband, pausing in step halfway down the stairs. He scrunched up his nose with a hint of disgust, "Let's just say, he found his hands full with something more important." The cloying of bitterness was still strong in him. It was hard to pretend he was alright, when he knew he felt as if he was barely holding it together as it was. He had tried to ignore the bigger issue than anything, but ugh…Clarissa had her claws all over Arthur. Merlin had that image permanently carved into his retina, never to be unseen again. Merlin didn't even think he would ever be able to see Arthur again without seeing the 'leach' trying to cling onto his arm as if she was a makeshift wife for him.

Disgusting cow.

And then Arthur had gone and climbed on top of him again, pinned him down in a way that became their new normal. Merlin didn't want that to be the new normal in their relationship. Not after what he had seen…with her…his disgust roared up inside off his belly, having to force himself to be able to acknowledge that he was at fault as well. After all, he had 'allowed' Arthur to play those stupid mind games with him again, before he'd gotten his brain jump started again enough to kick him off.

"…Do I want to know what that means?" Gaius said following his nephew with his eyes as he made his way down the rest of the stairs. Something about it wasn't right, there was nothing more important at the moment then the sickness. So, what could Arthur have his hands full with, that was deemed something that couldn't wait until later. The death toll had already raised to ninety five in the last few hours alone. If they didn't stop this now, why they still had the chance, that number was going to rise into the triple digit range.

Merlin screwed his face up in disgust, "I didn't get a chance to even tell him whats going on. So no, I don't think you want to know." Merlin shook off his anger, deciding to focus on something that would be more productive. Like stopping this creature on his own. Besides, Merlin didn't want to admit how humiliated he was too his uncle, the sting of being rejected for the first pretty girl to show Arthur any interest since their marriage was still ever present and not something he wanted to address. Let the prince have his blond haired affair partner, Merlin thought with contempt. He would be content with having just Gwen at his side, "Did you find what it was, the creature?" He asked his uncle, hardening himself up so he could get the job done. Nothing was more important than this, not even the bloody prince trying to stay in his mind.

Gaius frowned, not sure if he should press Merlin for more details. His nephew seemed different in a not-good way, then he'd been when he left the old physician not that long ago. There was something colder about his eyes, something that was barely noticeable unless one was looking close enough to see it. "…I did." Gaius cleared his throat, coming to the conclusion that his nephew would tell him what was bothering him when they weren't on this time limit. Although he still asked himself, why his nephew didn't bother telling Arthur when he'd left, adamant on doing so.

"Great, what is it?" Merlin hurried across the great length of the room, side stepping a random chair or two flung randomly around the room. The slim boy reached the table Gaius was standing at, and tried to peer at the page of the book upside down, to see what they were dealing with. The hunched back creature on the page…Merlin's eyes moved over it as he memorized every one of the details it showed. Merlin's hands tightened from where he'd curbed them around the edge of the table, feeling his heart rate shoot up a notch in excitement. This was it.

Merlin could have stayed here and allowed every bit of his bitterness over Arthur consume him until he was nothing but a shell of his former self. Or he could do something about it. Harden himself from ever being hurt by Arthur again, channel the anger into something productive. And nothing was more productive then saving this entire city from its own destruction, the people who were supposed to be running it too caught up in their own dilemma's to see what was happening right below his feet. He was quite literally-or so it felt like to him-the last man standing. It was time for Merlin to pull on his big boy pants, get the fuck over Arthur, put some elbow grease into the real work, and learn how to balance his screwed up life.

"Here," Gaius said, turning his attention back to the book. He spun the hard covered book around so Merlin could see the details. Gaius tapped one of his fingers against the inked title at the top, "It's called an afanc." Something that not even Gaius, in his many years of studying magic before he set it aside as the Great Purge was starting up, had ever heard of. A creature so dark and twisted, he found it was no wonder it had attacked them. The monster had been forced to rise in this world, and given life when there had previously been none before. Merlin and him had been lucky to escape with their lives. The creature may have life forcing its movements, but there was no soul inhabiting its clay form. It wouldn't have hesitated to kill the both of them, before leaving their bodies to rot till the next unfortunate victims found them. Just one second before the beast would claim their lives as well.

"A-a what?" Merlin glanced up from the book, his frown deep and confused. He knew he didn't have the best reading level, even if he'd been reading in his spare time to fix that, but he didn't think he'd ever heard of an…afanc, before. Even the name itself was enough to spark something unsettling in his gut. For the creature that could kill dozens and probably wipe off the largest city on the map with only days under it's exposure. How many places had a creature like this roamed unchecked, before moving on after leaving destruction, chaos, and death in its wake. How many kingdoms have been destroyed because a creature like this remained undiscovered in their water supply? How did one even go about destroying something like this-so magically innate-could only magic be the answer to saving them?

"It's a beast born of clay," Gaius explained, as he remembered what he'd been reading before his nephew had returned. As well as the huge clumps of what could have passed for mud clinging to the monster's form, coming together until it formed a large and hulking creature. Bigger than any man could grow, with arms thicker and stronger than even a tree trunk. The sheer strength it had when compared to a normal man was immense, capable of crushing every bone in a man's body as the live beast crushed him to death. The only possibility of them winning, Gaius could see as he studied over the picture, was if they managed to take the beast by surprise. What it had in strength, it may lack in speed. Gaius figured it was not easy to be able to lug around that clay body without a few setbacks. Gaius looked up from the page, impressing onto his nephew how serious this was, "And it can only be conjured by the most powerful sorcerer."

They had already suspected the sorceress they were dealing with was powerful, the things she'd managed to cause without detection would be a testimony to that, but this was definite proof. This was something Gaius could bring straight to Uther and have him hear him out. Even Uther would not be able to deny this. Somebody who conjured up this beast had to have years of experience as well as magical training backing it up just to succeed. And to do it as effectively as they have…even the king would see Gwen was far too young to be able to do such a thing. No, a witch like this would have to have decades of experience, not anything any nineteen year old-like Gwen-would've been able to accomplish.

Merlin did not seem to share in his enthusiasm the physician noted, frowning as he saw Merlin staring at the picture of the beast. His nephew was quiet, and that in itself was also a bad sign. But he was looking at the picture with a strange expression on his face, one that Gaius couldn't pick apart. Gaius sighed, knowing something was on Merlin's mind, the only question was rather or not he would talk about it. But there was only one way to figure out if he was ready, "Merlin, what happened? Are you okay?"

Merlin looked up, already knowing what his uncle was really trying to ask of him. He wanted to know what had happened with Arthur, but Merlin wasn't about to start getting into all of that. He would've needed days to fill in Gaius everything Arthur had been doing. And that was only if he was ready to talk, his heart lurching at being able to finally spill his guts to somebody. To tell his uncle-who knew he was verging on some serious depression he did not know how stop-every horrid thing. All about how alone he's felt, how frustrated and angry, and hurt he'd been for so long, he almost felt one tiny stone's throw away from drowning in it. A growing temptation was a major thing, and Merlin wanted to ask if it was possible for him to get a divorce, if there was anyway to break the contract that might have been overlooked. But none of that mattered anymore, not with the beast laid out in front of him as he realized why…why he was so unlovable.

Why everybody seemed to hate him…

Why Arthur had hated him before they'd even met…

Hell, he was starting to wonder if even Gaius liked him, or if he was just putting up with him because it was his family obligation…

Merlin vehemently shook his head of those kinds of thoughts before they could take root and start forming fully in his mind. It was time for him to get serious, not for him to fall back into one of his own manic depressive episodes where all he could do was stare at the wall until something snapped him out of it. Merlin took himself a breather, before he looked back to Gaius who was watching him with patience, albeit concerned. "I know you told me once that my magic doesn't make me a monster…" Merlin explained what was bothering him, looking back down at the monster of the page. Now, that was a real monster with claws and fangs and even an appetite for death and destruction. But maybe Merlin was even more dangerous then it, at least people knew they should run if they saw such a thing. But with him, people didn't know how to run until it was too late. And he'd some something to ruin their life, "But…can you still say that when it's possible for magic to create..that…"

He gestured down to the monster illustration, so much like himself it felt like, only with this different form. Something so evil, he was able to feel all the sourness that came with it when it had lurched out of the water at him. Could feel the sourness of its breath as it screeched at him, could feel the wind as it's claws barely graced his skin. It was like this darkness incarnated, waiting in the background to continue its destructive rampage. And, Merlin was thinking in the back of his mind, how much longer would it be before he himself was turned into such a beast of similar proportions. The way Arthur was treating him, the way he acted as if Merlin was at fault for everyone of his poor choices-yes, Merlin had plenty to be at fault about but none of it had to do with what Arthur did-but he just made him so mad! How many times had Merlin resisted the urge to fling him into a wall, or to show him it was not a good idea to push him? His thoughts were getting dangerous, and with Arthur pushing him in this constant manner, how much longer would he have before he couldn't take it anymore?

And lashed out at him and his new 'friends'.

"Merlin, this is something that you have got to get out of your head." Gaius spoke up firmly, refusing to entertain for even a second that his nephew-a boy so bright and gifted who should be happy in life and not…this misery ball of angst and pain as he tried to work through his issues alone even if he had an uncle willing to do whatever it took just for him to talk to him-was anything but this type of goodness the world desperately needed but also didn't know it did. "You are not, nor will you ever be any kind of monster-"

"How can you say that!" Merlin blurted out before he was able to stop himself. But he didn't take any of it back either. He had so much stuff he wanted to unload on his uncle. He wanted to talk about so much more than his magic-to find out if Gaius was able to come up with different options for him, like how to get him away from Arthur and their life. He refused to be made a fool out of like this, so there had to be 'something' to get him out. Merlin didn't even care if he had to do something extreme and fake his own death…he wanted out. He wanted to let his magic work and burn this damn ring off his finger where Arthur wouldn't be able to stop him, and then leave the shouldering ashes on top of his bed as one final 'fuck you' before disappearing in the night, never to return. If Arthur wanted to have Clarissa, then fine, but Merlin wasn't going to stick around to watch. And end up getting tormented in the face of others when they got careless, and got seen by the wrong person-but he didn't dare even try to speak a word of this to Gaius. Merlin wasn't ready to open that door and wasn't ready to admit how screwed up his relationship was. He put all of it into a steel box in his mind to close it off, but the box wasn't big enough to contain the whole thing. And it leaked, his frustrations seeping out. Putting his misplaced aggression directly on an issue that had plagued his mind since he was only a young child. "How can you say I'm not a monster, when a monster is capable of…that…"

Gaius followed Merlin's gaze down to the image on the page, and Merlin fidgeted anxiously. He did not even want to look at such a beast anymore, its horrific image burned in the page was nothing like the real thing. Merlin was still able to make these awful comparisons from him and to the real thing. This 'afanc' monster not actually real, it was just clay and mud animated to make it behave with his aggression, but it had sure felt real when it tried to take off Merlin's head. Just like another who tried to rip out his heart for their own enjoymen…no, he was not going back there. This monster was their issue now, an issue that had been conjured to live in the world of men by an evil woman. Merlin may not be able to do the same now, but with his own 'destiny' as the dragon claimed him to have, and how Gaius spoke of his magic in awe the first day they met…how long would it take for him to grow to that kind of level. If it was possible for Merlin to be able to do the things this sorceress did, then whose to say he wasn't as evil as the woman who killed off almost one hundred people in the span of a week.

"Because," Gaius spoke up, knowing he would be the one to say this again and again if he had to for Merlin to finally get the message to sink straight in his fool mind. "I've seen you, and I have seen the way you use your magic. I've felt it," Gaius reached out to grab at Merlin's hand-Merlin hadn't realized his nails had been cutting into the wood so deep it was making grooves to fit his fingernails as he was struggling to remain calm. Struggling not to allow Arthur to get to him anymore, being weak instead of the strong he had been when he'd left him, now that he knew Arthur wasn't watching him-and the old physician waited until Merlin looked up and he had his full attention. "It was pure, nothing but this light energy to chase away the darkness, even the kind that clouds your mind even now."

Merlin felt his breath catch, looking with surprise at his uncle as his cheeks caught fire. Gaius spoke as if he thought his magic was beautiful, a light to be treasure inside his soul even as he hid it away like it was some dirty little secret. Even knowing he had not fooled his uncle, who obviously knew his problems had something more to do with then just his magic, but wasn't pressing him for details and waited for him to be the one to talk, wasn't enough to sway his brief relief. Because Gaius had said his magic was beautiful, something he'd been thinking as a child but grew out of as he saw the world for the fearful place it could be for a thing like him. So unlike Arthur, who had told him to his face how disgusting magic was. How disgusting his magic was…Arthur had told him right then and there what kind of person he was. And Merlin had been content to ignore it in the far recesses of his mind as he got caught up in the Gwen situation.

He should have listened when Arthur told him how awful of a man he was. He wouldn't forget about it again though. Somebody who made him feel bad about himself like this…wasn't somebody he could allow to have him.

"Nobody," Gaius spoke again, making sure he had fully captured Merlin's attention, impressing onto him the wise knowledge he'd gained throughout his lifetime. "Who has magic is evil. No matter the city claiming it, no matter what a soul tells you, it isn't true. And some day, the people will know the truth. When it is safe, you will show everybody the choices you've had to make. And it's through the path you take in the future, that determines rather they will see a sorcerer as bad or good. And you, Merlin, are anything but bad."

Maybe it wasn't fair to have something like that on Merlin's shoulders. The idea that it wasn't just his future he was fighting for, but the future of all who were like him. But that hadn't been the main point of Gaius' speech. He knew when Gaius had said 'people' he really meant Arthur. Someday, Arthur would probably know the truth and through what actions he took in the future, would determine his own path. And rather path would make him out to be the villain Arthur portrayed him as, or the-not a hero, because being a hero sounded hard, meant to suffer alone forever as one stood on a pedestal above the rest-good guy, he decided, he wanted to be. Just a good guy who happened to have this magic in his blood, desperate to use it to make the world a better place…but…this didn't mean he had to allow Arthur to treat him like he did, the consort realized. He didn't have to let Arthur pin him down like he did. Shoving him off would be showing the prince he was a coward who couldn't take it, that would be putting up a firm boundary in place.

Saying no more.

He didn't have to 'allow' Arthur to talk to him like he's been. Sure, Merlin had fought back plenty of times but…it wasn't enough if Arthur refused any acknowledgment. Wasn't enough if Arthur refused to acknowledge him and his wants, and his right to be treated with a dignity of respect. If the blond wanted to believe Morris…then Merlin would have to be the one that told him so. If Arthur wanted his hands on Clarissa, then Merlin demanded for him to tell him that instead of making him think he had no business in his husband's affairs. Because yes, whatever the prince decided to do 'did' have every little thing to do with him.

"Now," Gaius said, refusing to believe his nephew had the capability to perform such an awful curse even if he had the potential for the strength that was needed for such a spell, "We have to find the way to defeat it." The physician discreetly turned away, eyes wondering over his many books lining the shelves as Merlin tried to rub his eyes clean of any residue tears that might have formed, "But the question is…where?"

"This could take days." Merlin followed his gaze to the books, voice coming out hoarse from how the day had been so emotional. Merlin loudly cleared his throat-he'd been told all his life people like him were going to hell, nothing he did would be able to change that even if he'd saved hundred of people with the same wicked magic they would take their pleasure in spitting at him if they knew he was one of those they made villains in stories told around a campfire. His mother had done his best to shield him but as he grew older, it would be impossible and dangerous for him not to know. And now he had Gaius…he wasn't as alone as he thought. And maybe…there was somebody else. "Gwen, she will be dead by then."

Merlin whipped his head around to look at his own uncle with worry etched in his face. Worry not for himself-never for himself-but for somebody who'd been there for him. And now they were so close to getting Gwen her freedom back, but Merlin felt as if they had never been further away as well. Merlin just looking around the room made him feel like he was being overwhelmed. His uncle had thousands and thousands of books, more than any person he knew could read in one lifetime. There was no way the two of them could wade through mountains of pages waiting for them, no way they could narrow it down either as there was no telling which book could hold more information on the Afanc. Gaius had only found the book detailing one page about how the creature came to life. But even scanning the page again to make sure, Merlin already knew there was nothing about how to destroy it.

"Have you got a better idea?" Gaius asked him, as he followed his gaze up to the uppermost shelves built into the higher walls. They would need to get the ladder out just to reach them. But just pulling them down would take time, and that was time he knew they didn't have. Like Merlin had said, Gwen would be dead by then. And, Gaius thought as his gaze shifted to Merlin, so would his nephew.

Merlin tore his eyes away from Gaius as an idea hit him so suddenly it nearly took his breath away. He didn't know how he hadn't thought of it before but maybe all hope was not lost yet. He just needed to talk to the dragon. Surely a creature from religions of old would know something about an afanc. If he was wrong, then Merlin would'be just wasted what time they had left to search proper. But maybe he was right…he could get Gwen out of her cell long before the night ended. Was it worth the gamble it would take…?

Merlin didn't say another word to Gaius, spinning onthe toe of his foot and running back towards the stairs. There was a rope made out of beddings calling out his name.

X

Despite Merlin's determination to get to the beast living in the caves under the castle for answers to his problems, he didn't actually go there first. No, not with how things were beginning to feel like the climax of a story was here. Merlin knew there was only eight hours or so left before he faced being executed, and each minute that past seemed like it was hitting him in the gut. But none moreso then when he saw the pyre being built in the middle of the courtyard, just yards away from where they'd laid the dead down to rest.

Merlin stared up at the mounting pile of wood the knights-several of them hard at work-were piling up around one long pillar of wood in the center. He could only imagine the center piece was where he and Gwen would be tied, the flames from torches lighting up the fear in their eyes, before they were to be taken by it. Merlin felt his stomach twisting unpleasantly as he remembered the deal he had made with Uther. Watching as another knight was tossing a log onto the wood pit surround it, Merlin could feel the acidic taste of bile almost forcing its way up to his mouth, he was forced to swallow the horrid taste back down before he could spew over the courtyard.

How many people, Merlin thought as he brought a hand up to his weak stomach, had been burned at this stake? How much blood was on Uther's hand, that he didn't even blink an eye by having a stake built so quickly. Not even time was on their side of things, eight hours might seem like a bit of wiggle room for them to work with but Merlin had no idea what it would take to destroy the afanc. Or even if he would get back in time to stop Gwen from her burning. How many people who had been burned before them-the question rung like molted fire in Merlin's brain- were innocent? Burned because of people's irrational fears against things they had no hope of understanding…

Happy-go-lucky Gwen who didn't have anything to offer people but her smile. Reduced to an awful shaking mess as dozens of people would jeer and mock her as she was being tied to the stake. She was light in a way Merlin had darkness creeping in his soul, she was pure while Merlin felt destruction burning in his wake even as he tried to deny what he was capable of. One accused of witchcraft with no sorcery in her veins, the other a warlock in the making but free to walk among the people as if he was not the freak Gaius tried to deny him as. And the bile was back in his throat, the scent of rotting human flesh as it burned thick in the air seemed to be stuck in his nostrils, crafted from what could only be his own imagination. But the question was remaining: was it his own burning flesh as his skin shriveled from his bones? Or was it Gwen's, as her skin started to blacken and crack from the awful pressure of the flames against her skin. Screams he knew weren't really there echoes inside of his mind, as if preparing him for what he might hear if he failed tonight.

The sun was starting to creep below the horizon, and darkness would soon settle over the city. The time would be up come morning's light…the sound of crashing brought Merlin's attention to a familiar knight, Markus. The fading bruise Markus had left on Merlin's arm seemed to tingle as he caught the eye of the other man. Markus stood by the pit and was one of the men throwing logs around the post of it, and the knight stopped long enough to shoot Merlin a harsh scowl before going back to working as he ignored his witness.

Merlin's eyes hardened, not looking away from the man or his four companions as they continued on with their work. By orders of the king, they would need to have this pyre built so they may bare their witness onto a burning of epic proportions. It was awful how cruel people could be, nobody seemed to care how a life would be snuffed out. They did not plan on making them an easy death, having a chopping of one's head was horrific on its own but it was quick and painless if the executioner knew what he was doing. But a burning…that was meant for somebody they wanted to see suffering. It was meant for a girl who would love to play among the flowers, and for a boy who was never meant to be here among them…

Merlin turned his head and strode away from their forming pit as fast as he could, refusing to allow himself to give into his hitched breathing. He had no more time for crying or arguing, he was sick of it all anyway and it never did him any good. Eight hours…that was all he had, and Merlin would make sure not one minute of that time would be wasted.

Merlin would make sure Gwen would never have to feel the terrifying sensation as the ends of her skirt caught fire. Would never shriek in agonizing pain as the fire whipped up her dress, feel the way her skin was literally melting from her bones while she paid for misperceived sins not her own.

If it was the last thing he did.

X

There was something Merlin wanted to do before he sought out the great dragon's wisdom. If it was the only thing he did before dying, then it was too see Gwen again. Merlin didn't bother stopping for the one guard now stationed outside the doors of the dungeon, but the guard seemed content to be the one who ignored him as well. That was okay in Merlin's eyes, he didn't have anymore patience to deal with the tomfoolery of any man who might try to stop him.

He 'would' see Gwen, things were nearing the end of everything and within the hour, Merlin was fully expecting to be in a death match against a beast who was never meant to live in their world. Merlin wanted to do it with the image of Gwen burned in his retina's, one constant reminder of what it was he was fighting for. He would need the reminder if only so he wouldn't allow the beast to overpower him…dying in a fit of battle seemed like as a better way to go then watching Gwen die alongside him due to his own failings. He 'needed' to reignite the fires of hatred and strength in his soul to make the things he wanted go according to plan.

And this time, he was ready.

Merlin did eventually make his way to Gwen's cell, but it took far longer than he would have liked and was a huge time waster. Walking through mud and quicksand was no joke, or at least that was what it felt like to Merlin. The first time this had happened Merlin could have brushed it off as a fluke, maybe the strain he was under was finally getting to him and he couldn't take it no more. But then having it a second time…Merlin was under no delusions and feared a third time-if he ever had to come down in the pit again, would result in the sensation being anything but a coincidence.

Merlin made it to Gwen's cell, he was pretty sure it was so much worse than it had been the first time he was down here. Things were swimming in front of his eyes as the room spun, he wanted to leave if only to escape for fear he might fall over and land on his arse. But no…Gwen…Gwen was…Merlin fell against the bars of her cell just like he had the first time he came down here. For one heart-stopping moment, Merlin had to blink in rapid succession to get his vision to clear, he thought she was already gone. There was this splash of red across the hay in the far corner of the cell, his anger nearly came out thinking it was blood. Somebody had hurt his friend while Merlin had been busy arguing over an impossible fight he was never going to win against the thick headed Arthur.

And then he blinked, clearing his muddled vision.

…Oh. The anger halted to a shimmer as he noticed the red bloodstain across the floor was really only the back of Gwen's dress. She was laying onto the floor with her back turned to the door, not making any movement to indicate she even knew rather or not he was here. "…Gwen…" he called out, through gritted teeth as he gathered the strength to keep on his feet. He couldn't even touch the bars of her cell anymore, pushing himself off when he started to feel a stinging under the palm of his hands. The burn marks he'd had the first time he came down was trying to make an appearance, he knew there was something about the dungeons that caused a reaction in his body. And Merlin couldn't risk the chance of injury, not when he knew he would need every bit of strength he had if he was planned on destroying the beast.

But Gwen didn't budge at the sound of her name, he wasn't even sure if she was awake but he kept his voice low just in case. Not wanting to disturb her in case she'd finally managed to find herself a bit of peace for the time being. The only reason he knew she wasn't dead because of how still the girl laid, was because of the very subtle movement of her shoulder as she breathed.

X

Gwen wasn't asleep, but neither did she move to acknowledge Merlin's sudden presence appearing beyond her cell doors. She stared down the wall in front of her, something she'd been doing for god-knows-how long, her manacled hands tucked up against her as she curled in her ball. Time had this way of getting away from her in here, the only way for her to know the outside world was still moving on without her was the way the light streaming in through the window started to darken as the night fell. She'd laid down in this one spot when she felt her feet could no longer hold her up, and her dead eyes had not left the blood stain smeared on one of the walls.

And had never gotten back up.

What was the point? She had screamed to herself until she was hoarse, nobody but one of the guard yelling at her to 'shut up before he makes her shut up' to accompany her. Not even to face Merlin, the barest hint of his voice breaking through the tight fog of despair cast over her mind, was enough to pull her out. His voice trickled in her mind, but she knew it was hopeless, no Will left in her body that would force her up to face him.

"I'm going to get you out."

Gwen was pretty sure that was Merlin's voice, but she wasn't sure if this was real. Or something she might have conjured in her own mind to keep her company during her last night on earth. There was a guard here earlier, who had bragged about how her pyre was being built right this minute, how she might last the night but not much longer than that. She hadn't moved from her spot even as she was forced to listen to him, until he had gone away as taunting her still form had gotten too boring for him. So, while it was a nice thought that this brief illusion of Merlin was trying to help her, she knew it was all for naught.

She was going to die.

Alone.

In pain.

For something she didn't even do…

And her poor father would be left without either of his children there…

"You are going home, Gwen." The voice echoed from somewhere behind her, and Gwen could've smiled through her comatose fog. It was another nice sentiment, something the real Merlin might have told her if he was here. And not something she could stick her hand straight through like the illusion she was, if she could stand. But while the voice seemed nice, Gwen managed to pinprick in the recesses of her mind, it was entirely wrong as well.

Gwen didn't want to go home. Home was bad, she had something awful in her home. Somebody had came into her safe place, and that something had brought magic into her home. But for what could the purpose of that had been…her brain struggled to connect the dots through the fog. The poultice the king claimed was in her home…it must've done something to her father…had it healed him, or had it done something she couldn't see too him. Gwen had no way of knowing, no way of finding out. But magic was evil, everybody said so, and everybody she'd seen using it had hurt people…so who could have, when could they have…why was something like this happening to her?

…was magic evil…

If whatever had healed her father, then whoever it was…why were the leaving her to die…

"I swear Gwen, I will be back."

The voice was back, whispering like some kind of gentle caress across her skin. Gwen wanted to be able to seek shelter in that voice, seek protection that was being denied to her. She'd had plenty of time to think down here, hours upon hours on her own as she counted down the minutes until they'd come for her. And she knew the truth…whatever sorcery that had put her down here, whatever the true was hiding just out of sight…it was evil.

And it was punishing her for something she didn't understand, she probably never would.

"I will."

And then the voice was gone, sounding so real as her mind even imagined footsteps fading as they faded away from her. It took the warmth and the safety away with it, and Gwen wanted to call out for it to come back. To keep her company, please don't leave her in the dark anymore alone…but her mouth didn't open. She didn't say a word.

She didn't even blink.

The stain in her eye's view didn't change, and as she heard the sound of a door slamming shut far down the hall, Gwen started humming inside the depths of her mind, falling back into her comatose state. An eerie little tune her mother used to sing her to sleep with, and you know…

Gwen never realized how eerie it sounded before this moment. When she was singing alone, not a soul to meet her halfway as she started to fall into madness.

X

Merlin fell toward, grasping for desperate breath as he landed on his knees right outside the door of the dungeons, once again finding no help from the guard at the foot of the stairs. He tried to grab onto the door handle for purpose, needing to put his hand on something to steady himself. But, he must be worse off than he thought, his own depth perception muddled from the strain he was under, because he missed the door completely.

The pain escaped Merlin hissing through his teeth, jaw clenched tight as he rolled onto his back, laid out on the floor. One hand went up to cup around his shoulder, squeezing it tight as he tried easing out the burst of pain landing on it had caused him to face. Merlin didn't get up at first, squinting with a dazed expression up at the ceiling. Things were getting worse, Merlin thought as he reminded him self to keep breathing. He hadn't been down there in the pit-as he had taken to calling the dungeons-nearly as long as he had been the first time when this had happened to him. But the side effects he went through seemed worse than it had been…

Merlin hissed through his teeth again as he forced himself half-up on his back, the room was starting to still some. He didn't feel like he was going to be throwing up anymore, like one would if they were forced on a runaway cart bounding wildly down in the streets. But his hands ached and Merlin's was shaking in aftershocks of pain when he brought to his face, the hand not holding his shoulder. Merlin had to squint, hand shaking too much for him to see properly. There was a very faint burn mark on his hand-just like the first time-shaped diagonally down his palm in the perfect imprint of the bars to the cell he'd been clutching to keep standing.

The burns weren't nearly as bad, the skin a light pink as if he had the beginnings of a sunburn. And not the vivid red third degree burn it had been the first time, his magic being the only thing that had stopped it from scarring. Already thought, the skin was starting to heal and he watched as the faint discoloration started lightening to his normal skin tone. His hand still shook, and Merlin cradled it to his chest in an effort to stop it. The burns might be fading, but he almost felt the phantom pain of it still echoing up his arm-tingles as if his arm was asleep but somehow so much worse. More on the painful side than anything else.

Painful…Merlin gritted his teeth while sweat was forming on his hairline. He squinted through pain-swirled eyes at the opened dungeon doors. Right, he had somewhere to be. Merlin might not know what was happening to him, or why he kept having this reaction only when he was in the dungeon but it didn't matter either. Questions like that was only something he could bother with when he wasn't in a struggle against the forces of darkness.

"…Gotta get up…get to the dragon…" Merlin bit out through his clenched jaw, head whipping around to find something that could help him back to his feet. He ended up having to use the door to drag himself back off the floor, his strength returning to him as quickly as wading through the quicksand had been. But once he was on his feet, he started to run. Slow at first, awkward and still holding his hand against his shoulder, nearly tripping over his own feet and holding onto the wall for support. He ignored the sweat building up underneath his shirt and pooling in the base of his spine, struggling as he was.

But each step came down harder than the last, the steps came quicker as Merlin was fueled with the ever-present guilt of Gwen's situation. He 'needed to go faster, he needed to be smarter, and Merlin needed to not waist his eight hours crying on the floor as his guilt overpowered him, seeing Gwen so desolate in her cell. Crying wasn't going to get him anywhere, crying wasn't going to save Gwen, and crying…Merlin was dead sick of it. By the time Merlin got to the end of the hall, and rounded the corner, he was running at a breathtaking pace…so fast his feet pounded against the stone, the ache in his shoulder fading only from adrenaline.

Someday, Merlin swore on his life as he whipped himself around the corner, not stopping even as a maid shrieked in surprise, dropping her laundry baskets and the contents flying across the floor in ruin. Someday, he was going to change things that went on around here. Someday, Merlin would have a world where innocent people like Gwen wouldn't be prosecuted for things they had no hand in. He, someday, would see a world where the people like him weren't prosecuted at all for the gifts they had been born with. A world of peace formed inside of his turbulent mind…a world where magic wasn't seen as inherently evil.

And who knows…

Maybe someday, maybe Merlin would be able to see himself as anything other than the monster he knew he was.

X

Merlin finally reached the one place he should've gone instead of wasting his time thinking Arthur would be of any help to him. To the dragon's keep, stationed in the mountainous cavern the castle of Camelot had been built directly above. There was no light source this deep underground, and Merlin held up his fiery torch as if hoping the light would be enough to call for the dragon's attention. With a place so damp and moldy, the scent of old water wavered in his nose, overpowering and strong in his nostrils. Made even worse with the heaving of his chest as he struggled to breath after his race to get here.

"H-hello?" Merlin called up the cavern, his voice grasping as it echoed right up into the cliffs and mountains formed in the sides. And hopefully to the dragon. For a beast so big and mythical, the dragon was able to hide himself until he wished to be revealed. It was the chains he heard at first, a rattling that echoed throughout the chamber as the anklet keeping the dragon prisoner rattled in harsh movements. Merlin flinched back in surprise when a large gust of wind seemed to be trying to throw him back, his hair and clothes whipping in tandem around him. The powerful wings of this magical beasts could have caused a windstorm to ruin all those who had previously came before it. It had Merlin raising his arm up to shield his face as it stirred up the dust covering the cliff side Merlin stood on.

"Ah, there he is." The dragon's voice called down to his small form, as he landed on these cliffs that stuck out of the wall opposite of where Merlin was standing. Merlin's eyes followed up the great body of the giant beast, until he met eyes with emerald green eyes-each eyeball was larger than Merlin's head. And just like always, Merlin felt in awe to be in the presence of such a powerful creature of the old religion. He might not like what the dragon had to say to him most of the time, but he never forgot how much this dragon knew. How old and ancient he was, how much knowledge he had buried into his skull. Knowledge that Merlin needed, this was why he was here. With nobody else to turn to who could possibly know the answers he needed oh so desperately, without having to wade through what seemed like thousands of books to find the truth, it was the dragon who was his only hope. "Great Warlock indeed, returning to seek my council you have. Just as I knew he would."

Merlin didn't bother asking the dragon how it was possible for him to know he'd come back. He had no real support system other than Gaius, he's just a man though and there was only so much he was able to share with Merlin. It only made sense to be seeking out council-as the dragon had referred to it as-with the only other magical being he knew. It came out of Merlin quick, getting right to the point as to note waste either of their time "Do you know how to defend an afanc?"

Seeing council…that was exactly what Merlin had came here to do, even if he hadn't originally called it that. The king had an entire council of elder's to help him with the running of this kingdom. And the consort was positive those same group of elder's he'd accosted during his second council meeting advised Arthur when it was needed. Arthur might even inherit the group once he stepped up years from now to be the king, or replace them with the younger noblemen. If he was smart, he would do that, getting fresher and newer ideas from those who weren't yet set in their ways. There, Merlin decided on his own, was nothing wrong with him forming his own council in the shadows. Gaius and the dragon…it seemed very fitting for there to be a magical version of the council hidden just out of view, taking care of their own business and ruled by the consort, even as said consort watched his own husband seeking to destroy them all.

"Yes," the great dragon spoke to him, nodding his head in one sage motion. "I've sensed what was in the water, and I've waited to see how long it would be before you came seeking my guidance and my help on the matter." And Merlin jolted his head up in surprise, biting down on his lip before he could blurt something out. He had to be smart about all of this, and he couldn't piss off the one being who could help him stop it before he was too late. He could not demand to know why the dragon hadn't called for the second he realized what was going on, and tell him what was causing it. But, almost one hundred people were dead because the beast in front of him had been lax in doing anything that could have stopped it before it had gotten this far.

Merlin wasn't smart. And words he just swore not to say came tumbling right out of his mouth, "Why did you not call for me if you knew? You've called for me before. A hundred people have died in this past week! My friend is marked for execution, and you knew this whole time!" Merlin wanted to feel it as his anger stirred up in his veins. But he was just tired of being angry all the time, tired of feeling as if he was dismissed. Tired of everything. It would be bad enough if only Arthur and his army of men were doing it, but the dragon as well? The dragon Merlin had just considered to be apart of his own secret council, one that not even Arthur could be apart of, having no access to what went on when Merlin wasn't with him.

He wanted to feel betrayed…but Merlin also didn't know the dragon well enough for that. He thought the great beast was his friend, somebody magical just like he was, who could help guide him and tell him what to do when he was helpless. Like a sort of mentor on all this magical stuff, the deeper and more rare aspects of it that Gaius wouldn't be able to help him with.

"It's not my nature to get involved with the affairs of the humans. I only converse with yourself since we are one and the same." The dragon spoke with sage wisdom in his voice. He sounded as if he had no shame over his inactivity, the lives of all those people Camelot had lost had no bearings on such a great beast. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but is it not the fault of only yourself, that the young one is now marked for death?"

Merlin felt the heat rushing to his face in shame at the reminder, even the Great Dragon knew of what he had done and obviously disapproved. It was his fault that Gwen sat where she was now, he could not even deny it if he wanted too. The warlock-in-training ducked his head down, wanting to throw himself off this cliff to atone for his harsh words to the dragon.

The Great Dragon started to speak up again, and his voice came out like a great rumble, "Do not put your faults onto my shoulders, child." This caused Merlin to duck his head down further, feeling as if he was being scolded by the parental figure he'd never had. He nearly caught his hair on fire as the torch started drifting far too close to his head, the flames flickering and dancing on top of his stick. The flames unable to read a stiff room in which a dance would be inappropriate. "Besides," Merlin's head perked up when the dragon continued, thick purple claws curving around the stone it was on to keep balance. "Earlier this week, you were not any ready to prepare yourself to face something such as an afanc."

Merlin rolled that over inside his mind. He wanted to be offended by the dragon thinking he was too weak to face the beast in their sewers. But Merlin found it hard to be offended when he was almost able to feel the creature's chilled embrace against his skin as it attacked him, even now. He knew he hadn't been prepared to face it then, hadn't even known it was there for him to face. And he didn't know if he was anymore ready now than he had been a few hours earlier, but he knew he would have to try. It might be a suicide mission, but look at it this way, Merlin was already dead if he failed anyway. Did it matter if his death was because a creature from the black lagoon dragged him down to the depths of hell to forever remain in the icy hold of stale water. Or if his death would send him straight to hell as the flames of his pyre took him.

"And, am I ready to face it now?" Merlin couldn't help but ask the dragon, looking more mature with a firm look in his eyes than he felt. The dragon had said 'earlier this week' Merlin hadn't been ready to face it. He didn't know what the dragon saw in the past week to make him think Merlin had grown-he felt the same neurotic mess he's always been-but he would take whatever leeway he would be able to get.

"Hmmm, perhaps." The dragon said, scanning his eyes up and down Merlin's lithe form. "You being here now, asking for my help, already shows there has been some improvement in your behavior. It's no shame to ask for help when one needs it."

Merlin straightened himself up, wanting to be a bit proud of himself for making the dragon proud. But Merlin's asked for help before, usually from Arthur, and it was always Merlin who'd gotten burned for thinking Arthur would help him. For thinking trying one more time would be different, just one time to convince him to open his eyes and see what was going on around him. But he never did, and it was Merlin left looking like the fool. It would never be different, and Merlin was finally coming to accept it.

"And will you?" Merlin spoke up, craning his head back so he could look the dragon in it's large wise eyes. "Help me with the afanc, that is?" Gaius may have tried, he'd done great with finding out what it was trying to kill them all. But the man didn't know everything. Finding out what it was had just been the first step. Now he needed to know how to kill it for good. Now, he needed to know what he had to do to save the rest of the people still clinging onto what little life they had left.

"What you need to do," the dragon spoke, giving his help on the situation at neigh, allowing Merlin to do what he will with the information being given to him. "Is trust the elements that are directly at your command." And Merlin could feel his brows as they came together in the center of his face. It was not the kind of answer he'd been hoping for, he barely knew what the elements were. Yet along how he was expected to command them. Fire…he knew fire was one but to command it? Merlin may be able to light up a piece of wood, or make funny shapes within the sparks, but he wasn't so sure he could do something with it for combat. If that was even what the dragon meant in the first place, he had hoped for something a bit more direct. Would it kill the dragon to just tell him point blank exactly what he was expected to do with the afanc.

And that was exactly what he asked of the beast in front of him, what was he expected to do with these elements? If Merlin was more direct himself, then maybe the dragon would be as well. It could not hurt to try. Merlin had more faith in the beast coming through, then he did with Arthur learning the error of his ways and apologizing for being the metaphorical beast he'd been to Merlin.

The Great Beast looked down at Merlin wisely, and he could have been lifting an eyebrow at him. If he had such a thing buried underneath it's thousands and thousands little sharp scales jutting out of its body like rows and rows of tiny knives, ready for a day where the scales would slice into the hands of any man who tried to tame it after what its already lived through. "No," the great beast said, slow and sure of itself, Merlin almost felt as if the beast was trying to look directly into his soul. Would he find it as disgusting as Arthur had, the day he'd found the magic poultice he left before. "There's something else that is weighing on your mind, is there not, young warlock? You cannot go into your battle if your soul is in turmoil. Speak, what else is happening in the outside world."

Merlin stopped, point blank, wondering if he was somehow sensing the turmoil that still warred on his insides about Arthur. But that couldn't have been it, Merlin wasn't ready to speak so plainly of the things Arthur had done to him. And besides, Merlin was slowly making peace with what his life in Camelot would be. It was about bloody time, as he was slowly readying himself to move as far as he could from Arthur's general orbit. Vowing that he'd someday see the changes he wanted within the city, so people like Gwen would never have to suffer due to other's choices, wasn't the only vow he had made that day. He'd vowed never to return to Arthur, to never ask him for help or expect more than he knew the prince was willing to give. There would be no more turmoil or anguish between the two of them, the prince was free to make his own choices in life, even if they were wrong. Because Merlin didn't care anymore.

But there was something else that had plagued his mind. Something the great dragon might even be able to help with. Something he'd yet to bring to Gaius' attention.

"The dungeons." Merlin spoke firmly, looking dead serious in the dragon's eyes. His hands had long since stopped shaking from the pain, and Merlin didn't even bother trying to show the dragons his palms. He knew the burn stripes going along his hands were long be gone, healed over as fresher skin took it's place. "I've been there twice, and it seems to get worse each time. There's something about that place, I get sick as if I can't think, and my body suddenly feels as if I'm going to drop. My hands have been burned by the time I return up to the surface. What is happening to me?"

The dragon's expression had turned stiff the very second Merlin had mentioned that dreadful place by name. And it made Merlin worry if even a great beast such as this one, could show concern about the phenomenon. "The dungeons," said the great creature in front of him, wings flaring out to show his agitation at just the name itself. "Are a desolate and awful place to be. It's a place where only your young magic-users are taken, a place where those with magic are sniffed out for the pleasure of men who hold all the power. I shall advise you, never to return there. For if you do, it might be your last."

Merlin felt a cold chill erupting down his spine and goosebumps formed along his arms at the cryptic words of the beast. But that was all they were for him, cryptic words he did not understand. It was a riddle he couldn't hope to master, one without any direct answer for him to decipher. The dragon may have spoke of what could happen, but he hadn't said why it was happening. Only something was affecting him…because of his magic? That would explain why Gwen-as desolate as she herself was, she was fine physically, not experiencing anything like Merlin was going through every time he tried to visit her-was still okay. So what was it about the dungeons that would cause him such an intense reaction. The dragon wasn't lying, Merlin had felt almost as if he was dying after being in there for so long. Was this how all sorcerer's felt after they were put in there? Real sorcerer's, and not those like Gwen who were wrongly accused.

The dragon must have seen the pale expression on his face, because he amended his words as he shifted so he was more laying down against the stone sticking out of the wall, "Well, dying so soon might be harsh. I warn you, prolonged expression for our kind can be deadly when faced with those ignorance of our safety. And can be made even worse when one specifically knows how to make things that can harm us. Going into a place like the cells they have here in Camelot is not what I would do, young warlock. But be warned, if you must go down there, and I suspect you will have to given your role as consort, keep your time as limited as you can. Be brief and quick, and most importantly, do not allow others to see the results of what happens to you. Not everybody is blind, and some people might put the pieces together for what you really are."

Merlin could see how serious the dragon was, and he nodded in agreement even as he swallowed the large lump formed in his throat. According to the dragon, there really was something down deep in the dungeons, and this something was meant to cause him harm. But what was it specifically? Was it something magical that had happened after the years of sorcerer's being caught, some kind of energy built up of magic, lashing out in response to the sorcerer's and their depleting hope to get to safety. Or maybe something more sinister, the king could have implanted something down there as another added measure to weed out all of the sorcerer's. Back when the plague was just starting and dozens were being herded in like cattle meant for the slaughterhouse. Merlin would have to make sure he took the dragon's words with him after he left here. There was no telling if there were other places like that in Camelot…he would need to be more vigilant than he had been if these men had other ways to determine a sorcerer's identity.

Other than seeing them using magic with their own eyes…the chain attached to the dragon's foot rattled dangerously ominously as he shifted.

"Now that you have been warned, our discussion has swayed from the matter at hand. You need to know, you cannot face this afanc alone." Spoke up the dragon, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his hunches, claws digging into the stones to keep on the wall. Merlin's eyes furrowed deeper together, trying to understand the dragon as he was forced to remember why he had came here in the first place. Right, he was here to destroy the afanc. He could be concerned about the dungeon and the threat it might pose to him when he had the time later.

But what did the dragon mean, he couldn't do this alone? Had the dragon not told him just moments earlier that he was ready to strike out on his own, being matured enough to know when to come to him, seeking his help. But now that he thought on it, the dragon hadn't actually told him he thought he was strong enough to fight an afanc. The great beast had only started advising him on the what to do next. If one could call his riddles as, advice. But alone was all he was. He had Gaius but there was no way his uncle would be able to fight off a beast if the dragon thought even Merlin would have that much trouble against it. But what did Merlin know about afanc's, he'd never been against anything like this before. The creature had already proven-as it took a swipe for Merlin's head-that it would be prepared to kill. Merlin couldn't face him if he was not ready to do the same.

"You are but one side of a coin," continued on the dragon, giving Merlin a meaningful look. And their consort could already start to feel the dread form, sinking to his stomach like a stone the size of his fist. He had heard something like that before, as it came from the dragon's mouth as well. The words were different, but it was the same meaning, a half cannot hate one that makes it whole. The dragon was trying to pitch Merlin his whole 'his destiny is to change the world with Arthur by his side' crap again. Yeah, Merlin wanted to change the world, to make it safer for himself and people like him, but at the moment, it was nothing more than a fever dream to hope for while his reality crushed him further and further down the drain. And within his dreams…he was alone. Arthur had no part of what he wanted to do, and Arthur wasn't there while he forced the world into changing into the image that he wanted it to be. "And Arthur is the other. Arthur will be the key to helping end it all. For if you try to go alone…you will have no chance at surviving this encounter."

Merlin felt his mouth go dryer than the Sahara and he shook his head in this rabid motion back and forth, "No, no. Definitely not." Merlin had already drawn the line somewhere, he'd already vowed he would never go to Arthur for help again, they were literally his parting words to the prince as he left behind his chambers. And he had every intention of keeping his word. Unlike Arthur, who seemed to see nothing wrong with allowing Clarissa inside of his chambers after promising Merlin nobody was going to be allowed in that wing of the castle. He was a betrayer, a possible adulterer, somebody he vowed he would never become. Would never go to again…and here the dragon was, saying Merlin had to go back on his word barely an hour after he made it.

"You don't have any choice." The dragon told him strictly, not mincing his words as he flapped down his wings at Merlin. The dragon's eyes bore into his own, impressing onto him how serious Merlin's situation was. "If you want to save the kingdom as it is, then you need to work with Arthur. You have the magic, something that can destroy the afanc where it stands. But Arthur has the strength, and his presence alone gives you an alibi. How would you explain how you defeated a magical creature, without sharing your magical heritage? If you do not have Arthur, someone who can take the fall for defeating the beast itself, as long as you time your own attacks wisely."

Merlin's eyes widened, looking away from his new council is stunned amazement, "You…you think it should be Arthur who should take credit?" It was one thing for it to actually happen that way. Arthur had taken credit after Valiant 'apparently' lose his control over the snakes. But to actually plan it for that to happen…that would be something else on a whole new scale. But that didn't negate Merlin already telling Arthur he wouldn't be back, he was going to have to return as if he was a puppy with his tail between his legs, trying to apologize for mistreating his master so cruelly. There had to be another way, something else he could do or think of. Arthur didn't want anything to do with getting Gwen out of her cell, he was only interested with finding the magical 'tools' she had used to cause the enchantment. Why should he be involved and get the credit for her rescue?

"As horrible as it sounds," the dragon said, rolling his shoulders as his wings shifted above him. "You cannot reveal yourself to the people, they will not take too kindly to what you are. And I see no other way for you to do this, no lie plausible for how you could have defeated an afanc that you could have them believing."

Merlin looked down at the stone rocks at his feet as he rolled this around in his head. Was an afanc really so powerful, had Merlin been spending this time underestimating it for what it was? He knew it was strong, knew he would have to put everything he had if he wanted to return with his head but…it was hatred he felt, knowing the dragon was right with his words. Even if Merlin didn't want to hear it right now. He was done with Arthur, was supposed to be done with him. So how the bloody hell was he supposed to go back…Merlin didn't go around breaking his word like Arthur did.

"…I can't." Merlin called up to the great dragon of old, hiding behind the depths of his reasons with a weary sigh. He knew he had to fight for Gwen, but he refused to believe going to Arthur would be the answer. He's tried that, and it doesn't work for him ever. No matter which approach he tried, or tactic he went with, Arthur denied him. Because Merlin wasn't somebody worth going to bat for. "Arthur is refusing to listen to a thing I say. He won't follow me to the afanc." Arthur refused to even listen to him when he talked about something like Morris, refused to take his concerns seriously. Everybody came before Merlin, Arthur wasn't going to believe him now just because it referred to the water. He'd just think Merlin was making it up or something to bother him, or whatever it was he thought Merlin was doing when he tried to go to him. No, Arthur would rather break his word instead of listening to the truth spoken to him.

The dragon's wing's flared, and Merlin raised his arm to shield his eyes away from the sudden dust storm kicking up. The torch Merlin held above his head flickered for a moment, looking as if it's light was about to die before it reignited, the flame was even brighter than it had been before. "Then, I'll take a gander and say that is your next mission to complete." He spoke solemnly, not taking Merlin's words for the excuse they clearly were. "You need him, so figure out how to get him to open up. Get him to listen, and all will be saved."

Merlin would be the last person to say he 'needed' Arthur, as the dragon had said. He needed Arthur as much as the next person needed all their teeth to fall out from some incurable disease. There was no 'getting him to listen'. Did the dragon not think he hadn't already tried that! Merlin was only down here for Gwen's sake, he needed to know what he could do to save her. He didn't come down here to see a marriage counselor for a marriage he wasn't interested in trying to save. Arthur could stay right where he was, where Merlin would never have to see him again.

"Remember what I've said today, young warlock." The dragon said, and his wings started to pick up speed as if he was about to take flight, and leave their conversation. Merlin started to freak out, his mind scrambling to search through the what little information he had managed to get out of his new 'council' if that's what he was going to call it. The dragon had talked more about what was going on with him and the dungeons than he had about the afranc. The only thing he'd been told about that is how he 'had' to make Arthur see reason-far easier said than done-and… "You are two sides of a coin with the young Pendragon. And the elements, the elements are the key to what you will set out to do with the afanc."

"W-wait!" Merlin stuttered, nearly dropping his torch when he raced forward, toddling right on the edge of the cliff where he nearly fell over the rim. It was little of no consequence to him, eyes wide with panic as the dragon's wings flapped harder in preparation to move it's giant body. "You still have not told me anything! What am I supposed to do with the elements! How are they supposed to help me defeat it! Why is Arthur so important!" Merlin screamed these questions wildly, begging for the dragon to stay and answer each and every one of his questions. Give him a proper reason for using Arthur, the idea of having him near just for an alibi was unsettling to him. It didn't matter if he would just be using Arthur for his own goals and safety, it was needing the prince for something.

He refused to ever need Arthur again.

The dragon didn't seem to care for all the plights and concerns that plagued Merlin. He didn't seem to care that Merlin was in more turmoil and more conflicted than he had been when he'd walked in the cave. Merlin was forced to watch as the beast started to rise off from it's rocky surface, the thick chain attached to his ankle clanging wildly with his movements. "No, please!" Merlin exclaimed, voice nearly lost in the great gusts of wind the dragon had caused in his flight. "I need your help!" Just a single piece of information, just one more nugget of something he could use. He didn't care what it was, he needed 'something'. Something that didn't include returning to Arthur's side, a place he felt was as shriveled up and as cold as Arthur's heart was.

"I've already helped as much as I can, and I now leave the rest to you." The dragon called down to him as he started disappearing up the mountain. Merlin was sure there must have been some kind of cave up there, some kind of opening that was big enough for the dragon to crawl into and rest his tired wings. Because Merlin couldn't see him at all, as if he had disappeared quicker than even a ghost would have. It got darker the further up into the cliffs, and Merlin couldn't see anything more that the overreaching shadows stretching across the ceiling, no matter how hard he whipped around his torch wildly. Begging for just one more glimpse of the dragon, a flash of his fangs or even a glimmer of his scales reflecting off the surface of something else. Even the blink of shining green eyes to offset the darkness around him, so he was able to see where the dragon was, would've been good enough for him. "Think of it this way," spoke the dragon, his voice booming out and echoing its way down the cliffs. Merlin whipped his torch fast to look, but he couldn't pinpoint where exactly the voice was coming from. "This is a new test, to see how you react under pressure as a consort. I have given you all of the information you need, now you just have to use it. And face your latest trial."

"Oh yeah, right. I should have guessed that." Said the consort, sarcasm coating every word he spoke of. But really, he should have guessed this would have turned into 'what next will Camelot's consort do'. Would he try and strike out on his own, and go after the creature without the backup he would've needed to stop this. Or would he force himself to swallow his pride and return to Arthur's side. That was something he didn't want to do, but for Gwen whose life was in danger…shit. No. He couldn't go to Arthur. He could be this stupid consort, and he could save the bloody day, and he could do all of that without Arthur's assistance. Merlin called up to the dragon just to warn him, swinging his arms out on either side of him, "I'm not doing this with Arthur! I won't! You might think he's going to be this great king who will save us all, but you haven't seen what I've seen! He's never going to become some great kind! He's never going to be able to unite the lands or whatever you think is going to happen!"

Merlin waited for half a heartbeat for the dragon to say something. To give him some kind of proof or reassurance he wasn't making any of this up to get Merlin to take action with Arthur. Something that would give Merlin hope himself for the future he wanted to see, but…nothing. Merlin bit harshly on the inside of his cheek, figuring maybe this was all some kind of fever dream to work with for the dragon as well. The dragon probably wanted to be able to believe that this wasn't the only thing life had for creatures like them, and had convinced his own self that Arthur was the answer.

When nothing came from the abyss of darkness, Merlin shook his head with bitter disappointment. Some council he had, giving him riddles and even impossible choices, rather than giving him actual helpful advice. Merlin turned away from the rocky cliffs, heading back the way he came from. There was no reason for him to linger in a place he knew wasn't going to give him anything else. Merlin was almost to the entranceway, when the dragon was calling out to him from the dark.

"And you, young warlock, have not seen what I've seen." Merlin whipped back around, throwing his torch above his head to get a better view. At first, he didn't see anything, no matter which way he'd whipped his head around frenzied. But then that was when he saw it, the subtle shifting of one of the many shadows above his head. The form of a large dragon-like figure with it's tail curled around the base of it's body was barely detectable to his eyes. The thing he saw the most, were those vivid green eyes, sharp and dangerous and slitted like a snake's as it eyed him.

Merlin swallowed hard, stiffening his shoulders as he saw the way the dragon was looking at him. It might not be a good idea, he reasoned out inside of his head, to piss off a dragon that could most likely end him where he stood. If the dragon could think Merlin didn't have what it took to destroy the afanc, then how would he defend himself from the majorly pissed off dragon? Hell, it wasn't a good idea alone to anger the one thing in this entire city that could give him answers nobody else could.

The dragon spoke up again, easily gaining Merlin's attention back to him, "You have no choice when it concerns this, Merlin. This afanc is nothing more than one of the many adventures you will have to guide the young prince through, on his journey to being King. If you want to save all of magic, you'll need to learn how to work with Arthur. You must keep him alive long enough to become king, for he is our only chance at the survival of our race."

Merlin was able to feel the weight of those words as they settled on his shoulders, so tightly he was surprised he could still stand. Merlin wanted to be able to rebel, to say he didn't listen to the spoiled and selfish prince who thought he owned him. So why did the dragon think Merlin would react any different than he did with the prince? But this was different, very different. Arthur tried so many, far too many, times trying to correct him. Trying to be the one to control him, for his own selfish reasons. Merlin was embarrassing, Merlin couldn't involve himself even though his literal job as consort was to involve himself. He should stand back and make himself look pretty so Arthur could do the work or save the day. And the dragon was only doing this because he was trying to save everybody, Merlin himself be damned. Trying to save people who'd be burned alive in the future. Trying to save those who had a gift but were too scared of the life and prejudice they would face to develop it properly. It was one small step to stopping the prosecution of their people, and to honor those who have already lost their lives in this senseless war. It was shit for a whole community of people to apparently wait for him to get his act together, for him to be stuck with this responsibility that he never wanted, but what was he supposed to do?

Tell the dragon, and the whole community of people with magic that he didn't feel like helping them get their freedom someday? When it was all he wanted in the world, to be free, of both Arthur and having to hide who he really was. Somebody had to do something if they wanted to see the change in the world, and who else was going to do it, who else was in the position to do something, if not himself.

"You're supposed to be his protector, the one who hides within the shadows for the safety of us all." Said the dragon, reminding Merlin of the prophecy the dragon had recited to him the very day they'd met. Putting this extra responsibility on top of his shoulders when they've barely said 'hi' toward the other. The dragon continued to speak, voice low and solemn as he finished, his words coming out with a chilling embrace to them. "So stay hidden, and protect."

Yeah, Merlin thought discontented, that was easy for the dragon to say. The dragon got to stay there in the cave, apparently watching over what bit and pieces it could see, without having to get directly involved with the going-on's. But like the dragon had told him earlier, he wasn't human. And had no responsibility to helping them when there was this monster trying to slaughter the whole lot of them. And Merlin should be grateful the dragon seemed willing to help them at all. He didn't have to. Unlike Merlin who had his own responsibilities, and knew he needed to see this through. Not only as a Royal Consort he was never meant to be, and not only as a Sorcerer who knew he had the power to save all of these lives. But as a Friend, who needed to have the courage to drag Gwen out of the pit she was stuck in.

That still didn't stop Merlin from wondering rather or not it would be difficult for him to switch places with the dragon. This damn and musty cave was starting to look like a pretty good home to set up camp. Let the dragon fight the battles, and Merlin could stay here with a chain around his ankle that prevented him from leaving. Yeah…that would be the life. No more Arthur, no more things needed or expected of him as consort, no more fighting and arguing and stressing and pondering why he was even here. No more sunlight…no more Gwen and Morgana…no more Gaius…no more wondering or dreaming of what he would do the second he was free of this place.

Maybe it wouldn't be worth it after all. Especially if Arthur showed up, and Merlin was left with no way of escaping the chain around his ankle. He would 'truly' have been left in hell if he was forced to sit there and listen to Arthur and his complaining and moaning as he decided on his own that Merlin had embarrassed him by seeking asylum away from him. Clearly, the whole switching places with the dragon wouldn't be his best bet after all.

When the dragon said no more, only watching him with those vivid green eyes Merlin could barely see through the shadows covering them, he gave a sturdy nod. Hiding and protecting…this would be his life from this day forward, rather he liked it or not. Rather he wanted to work with Arthur or kill him with his bare hands mattered not, the fate of the city rested with them.

The dragon might not have given him information he wanted to hear, Merlin thought as he strode out of the cave with his head held high, but he had told him one thing. The elements were the key to destroying the monster, he just had to figure out how he was going to use that. And after he was done researching…

Then he could decide what to do about Arthur.

X

Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot and one of the great kings of the five kingdoms, was in a state of distress. For hours, he had kept himself locked in the safety of his throne room, allowing nobody an entrance inside. He didn't care the lower town had been cordoned off for the sheer purpose to keep the sickness contained. Uther hadn't became one of the great kings by being careless, he was a very paranoid man but he took pride with it. It was what had kept him alive for this long, and it would keep him alive for another decade to come, if he would have it his way. Nobody, even as night started it's descent and tiredness from a week of stress after stress was starting to wane on him, would breech through those doors.

He had two of his own personal guards standing at attention for a reason. The sickness could not reach him within these chambers, he'd made sure of that. Uther kept his hands on the edge of the long tabletop spanning across the grand length of the throne room. His back was to the door, while he waited with great impatience for the one and only person he would allow entrance during a time such as this. His heir, Arthur, fighting on the front lines of battle as they waged against a war across their land and on their people. Uther refused to let his gaze wander away from the lit candle poised in his eyesight directly, the fire on the wick dancing as if there was something to celebrate. There was nothing to celebrate here, as far as the king would be concerned.

He'd been watching the candle stick as the wax slowly started to melt, counting the tick marks on the side to keep track of all the hours to go before he could finally be rid of that blasted boy. He had barely eight hours left to go before he was able to order his men after the boy…but the longer he was watching the candle, the longer the king doubted his decision to wait. Eight hours was a long time to plan a double execution, that timeframe was able to cover an entire night where the consort could use this time to escape. He was probably making a mistake, and Uther did not like mistakes he was able to feel coming on. Within those eight hours of time left, hundreds of more people could fall down to the sickness, they were just wasting their time by allowing the girl herself to live until morning.

Uther could only hope his heir could have found any additional information in the hours since they went their separate ways. Uther needed the latest status report more than he needed freak water to run through their underground reserves. He would need it more than his people needed to have their own survival…he would die before he allowed that wretched sorceress to have the last laugh as their kingdom burned around them to the ground.

And speaking of his heir, Uther heard the doors as they opened up behind him. He knew there would only be one reason for him to be disturbed at this particular moment. Arthur had finally arrived, and the king let out a bone weary sigh and he bowed down his head, his shoulders straining under the weight of knowing what he would do should his heir give him bad news. "Have you found anything more?" The king asked, without turning to look at his son. There was no reason to, he found it to be very difficult to believe anything would be found to prove the boy's ridiculous claims. The witch he had in the cells would burn, and soon if he had it his way. Which he would, make no doubt about it.

"I've tried." Arthur said, refusing to bow his head to his father's back. He should be happy, thought the prince, because his father had not called him in regards to Clarissa's presence being in his room after his specific instructions not to have her seen near him again. He had been a fool to allow things to get out of hand as he did, and Merlin…the blond was able to feel the crinkling of the map he'd been able to stuff into his pocket on the way out. Arthur had been a fool to try and make this out to be only Merlin's fault. It had been a stupid move, and one he deeply regretted now that his temper, and his indignation at Merlin's interruption for seemingly nothing, had cooled. This was no time for them to play games, and the cost was far higher than he'd be willing to pay if things had taken a turn…Arthur needed to get his head on straight. Which is why he admitted to his father the truth of the situation running amok the village, "I can keep looking."

Looking, Arthur thought solemnly, would give him a purpose. Something to make him feel as if what he was doing was actually something that would help his people. The people, were all that seemed to matter. Arthur couldn't anymore sudden lapses in judgement, couldn't afford to waste his time in arguments with Merlin. Couldn't afford to piss him off either, or at least anymore than he already had within the hour alone. Stupid, he wanted to curse himself with his failings to be a good prince. The prince knew his own father would have not once allow a woman-a noble woman, at that-to distract him from protecting the city. No matter the stress he was under, that was nothing but an excuse the prince had used to make things right. But Merlin…Arthur knew the consort hadn't bought a thing he had told him during their fight over the lady. And after the way he'd walked out…Arthur had seen it in his eyes. The eyes of somebody who was done with him…Arthur feared he might have alienated the consort. Which wouldn't make his father any pleased with him should he find out. The situation would handle itself should Merlin be burned come the morning's light.

But should he survived…

Arthur feared he would need to do some serious damage control to fix what he had broken. Before his father discovered his failings and would most likely have him disowned for being so incompetent he couldn't keep one boy, with nothing but those clothes on his backside, content. Maybe disowned was a step too far, but Arthur feared what troubles Merlin could bring into his life, after truly realizing his gambling of the kingdom wasn't worth putting Merlin in his place. Not when Merlin held all of the unknown power within his grasp. His ignorance he knew, was their only salvation for Arthur's terrible plannings.

"And your consort?" The king asked, making the prince's spine stiffen with sheer horror at the mere mention of the boy he'd been thinking so hard of within the confides of his own mind. Not even this was safe though, the image of Merlin trying hard-so hard but failing-to crawl out from underneath him, wiggling his rump inappropriately as Arthur fought him to the ground-burned itself in his mind like fire. And Arthur schooled his features to hide yet another mistake he knew he made from being written all over his face, he knew he'd gone too far by pinning the boy down again so soon after he'd walked in on such an unseemly sight. Arthur was sure this contributed to the way Merlin had walked out on him. He could only be thankful for the king had yet to turn around, he would have known in an instant that Arthur had seemingly tarnished things completely with Merlin. "How has he been fairing in his own search?"

"He has…not been doing well, father." Arthur said in a slow tone, making sure his voice was as even as he could make it. One little hiccup or off sound verb would be enough for his father to detect the lies in his voice, and he would whip around before demanding proper answers from him. Arthur really did not want his father to discover the truth before he was able to make amends himself, and fix what had happened. Besides, Arthur could only assume Merlin was having as much luck as he was during the search for answers. He certainly hadn't done anything more than making his false accusations again to stir up trouble. Just because he'd been right the last time he accused somebody of doing something, didn't mean Merlin was above trying to falsify information against another. Arthur knew of many people who would lie for the pure enjoyment of starting drama. Merlin probably thought he was able to distract Arthur away from finding anything that could condemn Gwen. This was an admirable attempt, but one that ultimately failed. "He seems to have found nothing more than he had when he first approached you about his little deal…"

The deal…Arthur mused over in his mind, with his deep frown. How was he supposed to get Merlin out of his deal if he was spending all this time with coming up with fabrications. All Merlin was doing, was making his word meaningless. If he could lie about the happening's of a trusted service-Arthur had to admit, it was pretty good he had gone for something that had actually happened instead of just making some random event up-then anything be brought before the king as proof of his claims for Gwen's innocence could easily be dismissed. As nothing more than a boy who told stories to get his away.

"Aha!" His father suddenly exclaimed as if he had won something, pushing away from the table in a broad stroke of genius as he turned toward his son, "I knew he wouldn't be able to find anythi-" the king stopped suddenly, and Arthur froze. The king was looking at him with baffleness, and Arthur could feel a bead of sweat going down the nape of his neck as his heart gave a jolt of panic. His face was impassive before his king, and his arms were tucked behind his back as they should be, this was a good thing because it blocked the way Arthur was pressing his thumb on the cuts on his wrist Merlin had given him during their first fight over the flower. It sent this jolt right through him, heated as a dull throb of phantom pain shot through his wrist. He was sure his father knew the truth, and Arthur was as stiff as a bored as he held his breath, waiting for his father to start unleashing the full strength of the Pendragon's on him. "What on earth happened to your face?"

The question came out of the blue, and Arthur had felt tighter than a drawstring on a bow, let out this surprised but silent gasp. That was not what he'd been expecting his father to ask, and it took the prince a second to steady himself. His…face? The question repeated in his mind, what could the king have meant. Arthur thought maybe he had food on him from his late dinner, although he was sure he had cleaned himself appropriately, so…realization hit him like a bolt of lighting and Arthur's shot his hand straight up to his face. He could feel the torn skin directly across his cheekbone, shit. If Merlin had scarred up his face after throwing that stupid book at him, he was gonna bloody kill him. Forget about trying to make amends before his king was able to know what he did, he was gonna get some rope. Get one of his men to install a circular hoop in his ceiling, and hang Merlin there by his wrists to stare at and have his undivided attention on him for all hours of the day. It would be awkward, with his shoulders twisted at a weird angle so he'd sure to feel it. Hoisted up just enough to where his toes would barely be gracing the ground, and he would have to struggle, twisting and turned as he tried to get his footing.

Realizing he'd been tracing the scrape on his face for to long, Arthur cleared his throat and dropped his hand back behind his back where it had rested originally, and under the watchful eyes of his king and father, he lied. "…I hit a door." And then Arthur really wished he had hit a door, to escape the look of incredulity his father shot him. Yeah, he would have to admit, it wasn't the smartest lie he'd told his father when it came to Merlin. Why did he go this far for somebody who continuously scarred him up: the first lie had been about Merlin and his virgin status. But Arthur had told his father he had done it to protect himself, rather than Merlin, from having to go through with it. This was though, this wouldn't be such an issue for himself, only Merlin would face Uther's wrath for attacking his son and heir. Perhaps Arthur just didn't want to be seen as the warrior prince who got marked by somebody with no formal training. Although, that was an idea to hold…what could Merlin do if he actually had a formal training period…

"Our people," Uther said slowly, staring at Arthur still with this disbelieving expression, his tone was matching and Arthur shook those thoughts of any training out of mind. He might need to make some things right with the boy, but that did not mean he had to go the extra mile for him. "Are out there at the moment, breathing their last while dying out amongst themselves. And you've spent this time…getting hit by a door?"

Arthur almost felt like this was a trick question, the kind where he was damned if he did but damned if he didn't as well. His face contorted, not sure if he should commit himself to such a ridiculous story, or if he should correct himself with something that would be more believable. Arthur could feel when the new scrape pulled at his facial muscles, "…Yes, that's what happened." He said slowly, realizing he couldn't go back without his father picking up that the whole story seemed to be nothing more than a fabrication of the truth. Then it wasn't just Merlin's future being tarnished, Arthur's word would start to become meaningless to his father if he knew he had lied on such a trivial matter.

The King seemed to give up on his son, and shook his head with irritation before dismissing the story completely, "Things have obviously grown out of hand, we cannot delay what must happen for any longer than we already have." Uther put his hand back on the corner of the tabletop, looking weary and drawn out as he ignored his heir's relived sigh behind him when Uther was no longer focused on the facial scrape. Uther cared not for what his own son's opinion would be, the king had already seen nothing but a waste of time and manpower ruining his kingdom. They had the witch in cuff's, so why wait until morning's light, which would do nothing but put more and more of their people at risk with every passing hour where they'd done nothing to fix the problem. Enough was enough, and the king would not allow this witch's humiliation go on any further than it had. She, the handmaiden, had got herself much further past their defenses than any other witch had before. He would not allow such a trickery to go unpunished, knowing she had been near his ward unwatched for years fueled him with rage. She could have done anything to Morgana, and none of them would have known the truth if she had not been discovered before attempting it.

Uther ignored the obvious fact: if Gwen wanted to do something to Morgana, she'd had years worth of ample time to do it in.

Arthur locked eyes onto his father's back, feeling a new sense of dread as it started to pull into the pit of his stomach. He knew he was not going to like the answer one bit, but he also knew he could not leave this unasked, "W-what do you mean, my king?" His father's tone had shifted, with enough subtly only his heir would have recognized it. The king had sounded as if he had finally made some decision of something that had plagued him over many nights. And considering the circumstances of their fair city…an image of Gwen crying on her knees in front of the court before the guards took her away burned through his mind. A second one followed moments later in quick succession, only it was Merlin on his knees. Crying large tears right down his cheeks in streets before he was grabbed up by the same guards. Arthur shifted with great discomfort at the flash of red hot rage as it had momentarily flooded his body. And then it was gone before he had the chance to process it more properly, leaving him unsteady on his feet.

"We must kill the witch." Uther's voice run out like a gong, and Arthur's head whipped up, feeling him settle himself into place sharply. But Arthur's own father refused to look at him, content to stare with harsh abandonment at the floor, as if this pained him more than Arthur would ever know. But Arthur did know, and he should have seen this coming a mile away. His father's greatest law: thou shall not allow a witch to live. He was surprised Gwen had survived this long, and only because it took time to make the preparations and have the announcer past the new's among the townsfolk during a more public execution. This one: the handmaiden to the ward of the king's…it was a high profile case. The many death's suffered during this Sick made it so much more noticeable as well.

They probably could have kept this a private affair and disposed of Gwen quietly if there weren't this many death's. But his father would obviously want the word to spread that they'd caught the witch so her evil should be undone. The sick healing as the actual sickness disappeared from their land, never to bring suffering back onto his people again. That was the dream, but…this wasn't right either.

"Bring her execution forward. I wish to have all of the preparations finalized within the hour. You will get more soldiers and have them work on the pyre to pick up the pace. I wish to see the witch on her burning stick in two hour's time." Uther looked out the window at the darkening sky, a grim look was decorating his face. "She shall be burned on this very day, as the great bell strikes ten." Strikes ten, late at night but not so late it would be considered the witching hour. Legend says a witches power was made to grow, reacting to the lunar cycle on a full moon's night, becoming seemingly impossible to control during that one hour. It was even worse on Samhain, the night it was said that the thin veil resting between the world of the living and the world of the dead was weakest. And thus, made a witch far more powerful than the world have ever seen.

Hogwash, in Arthur's opinion, who didn't hold with such superstitious nonsense. Not unless his father told him it was true. He was almost surprised the king would not wait the additional two hours, just as a way of sending a message to other witches who might be watching. Not even their precious golden hour would keep them safe if they dared to practice their craft. His father already did this by throwing a huge party on their Samhain night, one more way of mocking those with magic and trying to prove the Pendragon's feared no witches or the magic they possessed.

"But you can't!" Arthur exclaimed before he was even able to stop the words from exiting his own lips, fighting through the cold shock that hit him like a fist. Or a book. This wasn't something that would happen later, something he didn't have an entire night to dismiss until morning's light when it became a reality. This was happening 'now' and even as he tried to fight it, he knew it was nothing that would change his father's mind. But still, the words kept tumbling through his mouth, "Did you not swear to Merlin that you would give him twelve hours to find something substantial as proof of her innocence? It's only been four!"

Arthur truly doubted Merlin would be able to find anything in the next eight hours, nothing that the prince couldn't have already found himself with an army working around the clock right at the tips of his fingers. But the principle of the matter stood, his father had given Merlin his word. Twelve hours to search for nothingness, and then they would've seen to the witch burning. It was a betrayal of his father's word! It was a lie when Merlin would show back up only to find the deed was done and over with. It was…him…Arthur's eyes widened when he mused over this. Remembering how Merlin fussed at him for breaking his word about somebody else being allowed onto their floor after what Valiant had done to him. Arthur hadn't thought it seemed much important, it was only Lady Clarissa. While she was dangerous in her own way, especially to his marriage, she wasn't 'actually' dangerous. But obviously, Merlin wouldn't know that. He would've just seen Arthur going back against his word…like his father was trying too…

Uther scoffed, rolling his eyes in a fashion he had only ever allowed when away from the rest of his subjects, "You and I both know the idiot won't be able to find one thing in regards to this. Rather I give him four hours, or twelve, or even an entire lifetime! No, we have to do this now. Before more of our people are dead."

Arthur could see how his father had a point-he'd been king for years and had the experience under his belt to back it up, his father knew how to make the hard decisions others never could. And some far off day…it would be Arthur standing there, and it would be him making these kinds of decisions in regards to somebody's life-but none of this would negate how sudden it all was. Words once again started to spill free of his lips with no mind of his own attached to them, "But father! What happens should Merlin actually find something? What shall happen if Merlin brings us something that will be proof of Gwen's innocence-"

Arthur didn't get to finish his last ditch effort with defending Gwen and her possible freedom, since his father whipped around. Arthur's voice died in his throat from the steely look his father shot right at him, and the king roared in his face, "I cannot, I will not, risk the lives of this kingdom because the boy wants the chance to play hero! I am the one in charge around here, not the boy making his deals and whatnot. The witch shall burn. Before this one night had ended. Is that understood?"

Arthur could recognize this wasn't a true question on rather or not he understood. It was an order to see it done, and like always, Arthur crumbled right under the weight of his father's steely eyed harsh disappointment, "Yes, father." He murmured under his breath in a soft tone, bowing his head lowly to the king. He knew he hadn't tried nearly enough to keep Merlin's deal valid in the eyes of his father, but he also knew better than to argue. Gwen's life was as good as forfeit the second Arthur and his men discovered that poultice hidden away inside of her home. No matter of Merlin's theories about how somebody could have planted it, there wasn't any evidence they could run off of to prove rather or not such a thing was true.

His father softened around the eyes, but that did not make him any less harsh against his one and only heir to the throne. "Think, Arthur," said Uther as we waved his hand around in a flippant manner of dismissal, "What do you think that consort of yours can do against us? He's nothing more than a boy, after this, he will learn how to keep his mouth shut and do what he's told. Rather than throwing himself front and center like some kind of foolish spectacle."

Arthur felt the cold creeping into his chest, almost feeling as if his heart had stopped beating for half a second there. For a second, Arthur could have sworn it sounded like his father…like his father did not care whether or not Gwen was innocent of her crimes. Or guilty. His father sounded like he'd be more than pleased to see her burn, just to send a message to Merlin. Something like: this is what happens to those who oppose me. Make a fool out of yourself again, and another shall burn in your place. Arthur shook his head frantically to get the thoughts out of mind, his father was not that kind of man, willing to kill innocents over one outburst from a boy they had been the ones to bring here in the first place. No, his father was only forced to take these actions because of Merlin and his own stupidity. His father knew better than his consort ever word. He couldn't imagine Merlin ever being brave enough to make the tough decisions. Uther was right, Arthur comforted himself, what would Merlin be able to do. He might have one of those outbursts of his, but as soon as things would calm down, Merlin would forget all about Gwen.

He was sure of it.

But there was one thing Arthur wanted to bring up to his father that was bothering him, something he knew he couldn't leave in the wind. Arthur would never be able to get any work done if he had this stuck in his head for an indefinite amount of time.

"Father?" Arthur said slowly, masking his voice to sound more conversational, rather than probing for the answer. "What do you plan to do about my consort and the rather…unflattering deal he made in front of the court?" Arthur's ears were straining just in case he missed whatever his father said but it was killing him not to know. Would his king force the deal to be valid, and have his consort burned next to Gwen? Or would he chalk this whole day to nothing more than a boy's overzealous nature and desire to help a friend.

Uther looked as if he was mulling this around and around in his head, tossing through the pros and cons of what such an action would cause. Arthur waited impatiently, his heart pounding louder and louder inside his eardrums as each moment past without a proper answer. Finally, when Arthur had thought he was about to burst and disrespect his father by demanding answers he shouldn't care to know, the king waved him off. "It's undecided as of now." Uther turned away from his son to look at the candle wick again, noticing how the wax had started creeping into the seventh hour.

Arthur released a breath he honestly didn't know he'd been holding, the tight squeezing of his lungs as they vied for air that hadn't been coming slowly relaxed. This wasn't the definite answer the blond would have preferred, but he also knew it was the best he was getting. Arthur knew better than even trying to push his father for more, and lowered his body down into a bow. His father never looked far from his candlestick, even as Arthur started a slow backing out of the room. Arthur needed to see his father's orders completed…

X

Arthur's features were stiff when he stepped out of his father's throne room, "Derrick," the Prince called out to one of the two knights standing right outside the door. Arthur's gut twisted unpleasant with what he was about to do, but Arthur couldn't go against his father's orders. Strangely enough though, Arthur felt as if he was sacrificing Gwen to save Merlin. But that was ridiculous, just because his father was considering nullifying Merlin's own deal, did not mean Gwen would be lost to them all over it. Gwen was losing it all because she'd made the mistake of playing with enchantments. It had nothing to do with Merlin.

Derrick appeared by his side, bringing his hand up across his chest and giving a little nod of his head in acknowledgement, "Yes, sire?" The knight said with a little grin. Derrick was a real funny guy, and was pretty laid back in most matters. Arthur could usually find the chilled guy's demeanor to be most refreshing. Especially when Arthur had finished up training the new recruits for the day, the ones who did not seem to know which way to hold their own sword, by the blade or by the pommel. But Arthur was in no laughing mood today, far more stressed than he ought to be given his father seemed to be showing leniency towards his consort.

"Go," Arthur said lowly, and Derrick's smile started to dim as he sensed the seriousness in the blond's voice. Apparently, even Derrick-the knight known as the most likely to crack a joke or be seen taking things easy-knew when it was time to get serious about his duties. "You are needed out front. I want you to gather any knights you see on the way and have them assist in preparing the serving girl, her execution has been moved on." By the time those last words uttered from Arthur's lips, Derrick had stopped smiling entirely. Despite the reputation of their wicked ways, an execution was nothing to be amused about. Very few knight's could see this as anything more than entertainment. But Arthur saw a citizen of his had been easily seduced from the righteous path. How blind Arthur had been, not to see Gwen's wickedness creeping in below her own innocent demeanor.

His father had been right. Witches really were the perfect masters of disguise, able to blend without being seen for what they really were. Merlin would be upset, Arthur numbly allowed to tumble across his mind for the umpteenth time. Vaguely, Arthur considered how much harder this would make for him to get back into Merlin's good side. Clarissa's presence probably tilted him into this unfavorable side, but Gwen's execution might make changing his mind irreversibly. Especially if Merlin would try to fight it, instead of moving on with his life when things became too late. Maybe once Merlin heard Arthur had bravely convinced his father to ignore his deal, it would make the process move on much more smoother.

Derrick didn't question him, and for that alone, the prince would be thankful. The knight bowed down much lower than before, "Yes, sire." He repeated in a solemn voice. And then Derrick was off down the hall, leaving his precious post behind to get to his new duties and put things in order. They would need to pick up the pace, if Uther truly expected for Gwen to face her own death in only a couple of hours time. Briefly, Arthur considered the fact that his father probably always intended to go back on his word with Merlin. Why else would the king had already ordered for the construction of the latest pyre in the long slew of witches that have passed their borders.

But no, Arthur ultimately decided. Obviously, his father hadn't wanted to waste anytime and must have decided the best option would be preparing for any outcome. Rather or not Merlin brought him anything pertaining to Gwen's innocence…Arthur strode out of the hall, every intention on returning to his room for a spot of privacy. Maybe among his things, he could ignore the false image trying their damn hardest to burn it's way into the forefront of his mind.

Merlin's face when he was delivered the news, the face of a boy who knew he'd failed. Somehow, the prince suddenly found himself not convinced over his consort's ability to move pass this. Somehow, Arthur imagined Merlin's face would look far more worse than it had looked the day he'd smashed his box of trinkets. Crying, screaming, and the sounds of a smashing box somehow still echoing inside of his eardrums.

No, Arthur considered. He had the drawing sense of fear slithering it's way down his spine. He knew, Merlin would not allow this to go by quietly…but…maybe….Arthur, disappearing around the corner of the hall, mused over the idea of getting ahead of this. Maybe if he warned Merlin of Gwen being executed soon, Arthur had the chance to contain the boy's outburst before it grew unmanageable…

This was his job as a husband, correct? Trying to ease Merlin into the burden's of what being Royal meant. How they couldn't allow any allowances for even their own friends. Arthur just needed to have his consort see sense and reason, surely he could convince Merlin the witch's death would obviously be the best course of action.

If only the prince realized what his father now had planned for his consort…

X

"You wanted to see me, sire?" The second knight who'd stood outside the doors, now stood on the inside. Knight Justin had his arm tucked along his chest in respect, and was bowing his head before the king after being summoned inside of his deep, dark chambers. The night had fallen deeper within the last few minutes, and the only light source that brightened up the room seemed to come from the single candle on the table. A candle the king was looking entrapped by, refusing to look up even to address his knight properly.

"Yes," the king said instead, staring intently down as the wax of the candle start dripping slowly past the seventh line marker on the side. This indicated his son's consort only had seven hours remaining on the deal Uther had agreed to. It meant, the boy had only been searching for answers for five hours only. This five hours seemed to be the longest five hours in the king's life, and who was he to make a petty deal with a child? Five hours was clearly long enough to make a nuisance out of himself, whose to say five hours wasn't long enough to find proof of the witch's innocence. And since the boy had yet to bring him anything, Uther had no choice but to assume said boy had nothing to offer up to the table. The king pushed himself away from his own spot at the table, although he did not look back at the knight awaiting his orders, still staring directly at the flickering light of the candle, as if he would consider his answers in the light of the flames, "I'll need you to gather the men, your orders is to find our most esteemed consort. Track him down like an animal if you must, and bring him to me. If our witch is to burn before the night's end, then so shall our consort."

Knight Justin didn't question these orders given to him, the king's word was law and if the king would like his son's consort on the side of extra crispy, it was not his place to ask questions. "Yes, sire." the knight said, slowly backing out of the room in his bowed over state. Knight Justin left the king alone to stare at the mesmerizing flames of his candle.