A/N: I don't own Merlin. That was the luck of the BBC.
Hello everyone! I do appreciate the long gaps between chapters, but college is wrapping up for the summer as we speak, so that should speed things up a bit.
As ever, hope you enjoy!
The guard stood patiently, clearly waiting for Arthur to deny knowing the man at the gate so he could remove him as quickly as possible.
"He's a friend of Camelot." Arthur murmured, a frown set into his features, alongside a worried contemplation. "Why on earth-?" His voice was low and questioning, his query seemingly directed more towards himself than the guard.
"My lord?" The guard started, not usually one to question orders, but in this case the king's comment had made little sense. He could think of no reason this seemingly ordinary man would be considered a 'friend' of Camelot. From the way he was dressed, he was clearly not nobility, nor did he seems to have status of any kind.
"Bring him up immediately." Arthur motioned to the door, then ran a hand through his hair as he began to pace slowly.
"Er, very well sire." The man gave the king once last puzzled look, then turned on his heel and barked an order to a fellow soldier further down the corridor, his instruction bouncing and reverbing off the walls.
Arthur's pacing grew a little more frantic as the guard left him to contemplate why the physician would be in Camelot, and especially why he was in an urgent need to speak to him. From what little he'd gathered about Petch whilst they were in Redferran, he wasn't one to just leave his small community. Those villagers relied on him, from cuts to broken bones, he was their healer, no one else. If he'd come all the way out to Camelot, something must be seriously wrong.
"Arthur!" Petch almost fell into the room, moving at a pace no man of his age should. He was draped in a pale grey cloak that looked well-worn, if the patchwork mends were anything to go by, and had a small leather satchel slung round his side. His shoulder length wispy hair was blown around wildly, presumably from the ride to Camelot, and his spectacles were perched askew on his nose.
"Petch," Arthur half forced a smile, slowing his worried gait to greet Petch warmly. "It's good to see you." It had not been a month since they were under his supervision, but during their brief stay Petch had quite literally been a lifesaver, and Arthur wondered if he could ever repay the physician for his kindness. Though in all honesty he'd assumed their paths would never cross again, and somewhat hoped; he was a tie to their ordeal, and a reminder they did not need nor want. "However, I fear this is not a social call." He let his smile fall; the worry in heart forming a lump in his throat. There had to be a reasonable explanation, and not some world-altering news. They could take no more of that.
"I came the moment I heard; I just had to tell you..." Petch wheezed out, unable to catch his breath having hurried from his horse all the way to up the council room, desperate to meet with the king. His elderly frame was not designed for such movement at such speed, and it was showing as he looked close to collapse.
"Come, sit down." Arthur showed the physician to one of the seats at the council's table, concerned he may pass out if left to stand a moment longer. He let the man rest for a pause, until his breathing had slowed and evened out, and his wheezing had all but gone. "Now," Arthur tried his best to keep a casual tone to his voice, and iron out the worry, "what is so urgent?"
He braced himself for the next word out of Petch's mouth, wishing it to be any but the one he heard.
"Drin." Petch finally breathed out, regretfully. "There's been a sighting of him, on the border between the Lowlands and Essetir, a most worrying location." He clasped his hands and rested his chin on them; his demure demeanour suggesting that he was most remorseful of having to share the news with the king.
"You are sure?" Arthur caught his breath. It was all he could do to stop himself screaming at everything and everyone that met his gaze. This was the last thing anyone had expected, needed, to hear. They'd all assumed he'd died when Merlin had pulled down the tower; buried under the rubble of bricks and bad memories, but the old bastard was a cunning snake. They should've known better than to assume his demise. "We all thought him dead." All, including Merlin.
God this would break him.
"The source is reliable," Petch ruefully grimaced, "A friend of our villages, he's a Lord in Essetir, perhaps you know of him, Lord Geowin?" Arthur nodded in recognition. He was famously one of the few amicable nobles to live under Cenred's rule, and survive; the man was often a go-between for Camelot and Essetir, it was little wonder he also prospered in the lowlands. The man somehow excelled at diplomacy between all worlds, and lived a fairly peaceful life. "The word is that Drin has been recruiting men of little means, even less brain, but not lacking in brawn." He scoffed, though Arthur picked up a noticeable change in the way Petch was speaking about him this time. Whilst in Redferran he'd derided him as a delusional fool, he seemed a lot less certain in that diagnosis right now.
"He's started his campaign again, and if he's in Essetir there's no doubt he's also still in leagues with Cenred." Arthur rubbed at his tired eyes, his brain beginning to go into meltdown.
Today had been one of the most mentally taxing in his life; he'd started the day thinking all he had to deal with was one minor council meeting, and instead he'd had an ear-bashing from Gwen, another from Gwaine, the disastrous meeting with the council – who it turned out could quite easily form a lynch mob, fired one of his oldest Lords, consoled a visibly shaken Merlin who had revealed some terrible truths, and now he was learning that there was a maniacal warlord risen from the dead.
One day. Just one bloody day where nothing went wrong.
"Talk amongst folk is that he's headed for Camelot." Petch looked visibly uncomfortable at this, and Arthur knew there was something he was holding back.
"He'd be a fool to do so," Arthur scoffed derisively, "a handful of men alone cannot overthrow her walls." There was no way Drin and one or two bandits would be able to fight off Camelot's defences. He'd captured them all because they were caught unawares and were overpowered and slightly outnumbered, but an attack on the city would have to be strategic, not one of Drin's moments of opportunity. He'd station some extra guards around the gate for safe measure.
"No," Petch sighed, looking even more unwilling to continue, "but a very powerful sorcerer can." He'd lowered his voice so only Arthur could hear; despite being alone, he didn't trust speaking above a whisper when it came to discussing magic, especially in Camelot and especially with a Pendragon, no matter how open he'd seemed last time.
"What do you mean?" Arthur leaned in closer towards Petch. Surely, he couldn't mean Merlin, what kind of ridiculous notion was that? "Petch, I trust Merlin more than anything. He would never, ever betray me or Camelot like that." How could Petch even think that? He'd seen how much Merlin had refused Drin, he'd seen his loyalty in the wounds across his torso and fever on his brow. No, Petch was mistaken if he thought the warlock would ever collude with the madman.
"Arthur, the man's insane, he always has been." Petch implored. "If he thinks Merlin can win him Camelot, then he will stop at nothing to have him at his side. Nothing. Not to mention the lad escaped him once, Drin's now going to treat this as some sort of wicked game. The collapse of the tower's supposedly left him disfigured, and people are saying that the accident has made him crazier than ever before, if that's even possible."
"Petch," Arthur shook his head, "Drin tortured Merlin for days on end, and he still promised nothing to man. What could he do to persuade Merlin if not the cruelty that he endured?" Though the thought of Merlin going through any more torture, any more pain, than he'd already endured made his blood boil, there was a part of him that knew Merlin would still not break. He definitely did not want his beliefs to be put to the test though.
"Think about it, the only leverage Drin had during your confinement was you and your lack of knowledge. He thought Merlin would turn to his ways when he saw your reaction to his magic." Arthur felt a sting in his heart every time he was reminded of it, but as Gwen had pointed out, he needed to stop making Merlin's ordeal about him, and his heavy laden conscious. "When he didn't, Drin lost all control, except for physical pain, which Merlin was never going to succumb to, he's stronger than that." Petch paused for a moment, clearly considering his next words. "But now? Now he has a whole city of leverage."
"You think he'd threaten to out Merlin's magic?" Arthur's horrified voice trembled with emotion.
It was an idea that had never dawned on his until that very moment, but the repercussions of it would be severe. He didn't know how he'd protect Merlin if news about his magic wasn't handled carefully or delicately, especially if it was Drin. The kingdom couldn't just deal with the idea of benevolent magic overnight, they'd need to be brought around to the idea with laws and rulings. The thought of how to present Merlin's magic to the masses, in such a public manner, had given him more than one sleepless night. He knew it wasn't fair to keep it a secret forever, not that Merlin asked for praise ever, but Arthur wanted him to be able to be who he was wherever he was, he wouldn't have him skulking around in the shadows any longer.
"I'm sure of it. He had no qualms revealing his magic to you." Arthur thought back to the moment that had changed everything. To reveal his magic in such a heroic manner, saving his life from a sword that would've certainly run him through otherwise, to have that scorned and rejected was one of the cruellest punishments of all. Drin could've done anything to showcase Merlin's magic, he could've simply said the words 'Merlin has magic' (not that Arthur would've particularly believed him though), but having Arthur throwaway Merlin's most pure and selfless magic should've been a killing blow. Merlin was amazing for surviving that kind of mental torture.
"No, he did not." Arthur said quietly.
"The rumour mill is rife in the lower towns and villages, all he has to do is mention it to one person, who will spread it like wildfire, then all it takes is one of the higher ups to hear it, and before you know it, you've got a lynching on your hands." Arthur turned ice cold, the memory of not more than three hours ago still burning in his mind, how quickly they'd suggested sacking Merlin for a slight absence of his duties. If some of them understood he'd got magic, the results would be catastrophic.
"I've no way of stopping something like that, what do I do?" Arthur whispered, his mind frozen. Short of hunting the bastard down and running him through with his sword, as appealing as that sounded, Arthur couldn't do much about him, especially shutting him up about Merlin and his magic.
"My advice?" Petch leant back in his chair. "Get Merlin to go to Drin willingly." He countered with a wry smile. "Simple," He clarified, not understanding why the king was glaring at him, "you let Drin believe he has the upper hand; that Merlin's on his side. Then Merlin can take him down from the inside when he least suspects it." Petch held his hands out like it was the most obvious plan in the world.
"There are a few flaws in that plan, Petch." Arthur covered his face with his hands, letting out a muffled sigh. "One, why would Drin believe that Merlin changed his mind all of a sudden? He tortured him and Merlin wasn't even close to breaking, so why now would he just willingly join him? Two," Arthur pondered whether he should go on, but Petch was a friend, and he'd come all this way to give them forewarning, it was only fair he was truthful back, "Drin scares Merlin much more than we realise, it could do him a lot more harm than good putting him in that close proximity to Drin." Arthur didn't even know how he was going to tell Merlin Drin was back, there was no way he could even suggest to him to infiltrate his inner circle. "And three, Merlin had a chance to kill Drin before, and I stopped him."
"You believe he won't go through with it?" Petch frowned. He thought the lad would be wanting revenge more than anyone, he knew if he'd been on the receiving end of such severe wounding he'd want the man responsible to pay, never mind his Hippocratic oath.
"Part of me does." Arthur looked rueful for a moment, his face turning dark. "Part of me also worries that he will."
"I don't follow." Petch pushed his spectacle up his nose.
"Killing a man, even a snake such as Drin, it changes you." He knew only too well how it changed people. Though the job of a knight, and to some degree a prince, and then a king, was to uphold valour, it didn't always make killing easier. "Merlin's mind is precarious to say the least since we returned. He's jumpy, and I'm sure he's not sleeping nor is he eating properly. There was an… incident today and I found him sat on the floor of the corridor. He's not good Petch, and having Drin's death to deal with, by his own hand directly, would tip him over the teetering edge for certain."
"I see." Petch stroked the hairs on his chin thoughtfully. "The mind is fragile, almost like glass. It can fracture easily, and is most difficult to repair once damaged." He concluded. "Especially with torture victims." Arthur couldn't help but cringe at hearing Merlin referred to as a victim. He was trying as hard as he could to keep the thought of Merlin before Drin nearly broke him alive in his mind, determined they'd get that Merlin back. "To put him in a situation with Drin, I agree, that would be extremely detrimental to his health. Not that I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, mind you."
"You understand why I cannot carry through your plan now?" Arthur bemoaned. If only things were as simple as Petch thought they were.
"I do Arthur. And I know whatever you decide to do, it'll be the right choice. You're a good king, and you're an even better friend." He put a fatherly hand on Arthur's shoulder, giving him a warm smile for the first time since he'd staggered into the council room.
"Thank you Petch, and I cannot thank you enough for bringing us this information so we can prepare for… whatever it may be that faces us."
"There is nothing to thank. Merlin's a fighter, I learnt that in Redferran. He'll recover, just you wait and see. With all of you around him, he has all the support he needs." Petch sat up, a wistful look in his eye. "Now, is there somewhere I could get a bowl of something hot? An old man can't manage for too long on an empty stomach, you know." He laughed, as his stomach let out an audible rumble.
"Of course." Arthur stood, and helped Petch to his feet, the old man removing his cloak and draping it over his arm. The king then began walking with him in the direction of the guest rooms. "When do you plan to return to Redferran?"
"Eager to be rid of me already?" Petch jested. "I was hoping to stay the night in Camelot; the mare I rode here can't handle another ride today, nor can I for that matter." He still looked terribly winded, and his hair was still a wild mop of white locks. "I must return to Redferran soon though, I've left one of the lads in charge of the apothecary, and between you me, he's not the best." He let out a gentle laugh.
"Then it's settled," Arthur smiled, "I'll arrange a room for you in the castle."
"Thank you, your majesty." Petch nodded. "You'll see no arguments from me." Again, his stomach began to growl. "Not to belay the subject, but…"
"I'll talk to the kitchen as well." Arthur grinned. "Until then, I believe Gaius, our physician, is eager to meet you. I'm sure he will want to thank you personally for everything you did to help Merlin."
"I but offered what little treatment I could." Petch shrugged humbly.
"Still, Merlin is like a son to Gaius, and we are all grateful of your help." There's no way Merlin would've made it on foot towards Camelot with nothing but water and strips of makeshift bandages, had it not been for Redferran, and Petch, and Arthur truly wanted to show his appreciation whilst the physician was here.
So we now have some answers, but perhaps some more questions?
Thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story, and it's about to get REAL interesting very soon.