Work Text:
Cream colored marble made up the walls of Camelot, travertine stone tiles lined the floors in intricate patterns. Candelabras stood in the corners and alcoves while torch light from sconces near the leaded glass windows gleamed off hanging tapestries. Merlin had been fascinated by the woven pictures since his arrival in the great city many years before, especially at night when the shadows would make it appear that the scenes in the tapestries were alive. Growing up in a small hovel like Ealdor he had never seen life sized embroideries. In fact there had been many things the warlock hadn’t experienced before he came to the citadel. Kings, executions, a rich marketplace with such a large variety of wears and food, knights, cabbage-head princes, armies of dead men… dragons, or what exactly a rotten tomato feels like when it pelts you across the face. He snickered as the observations from his life the past years played through his head.
“Is something funny, Merlin?” Gaius questioned as the two men made their way to the small council chamber, breaking the young man out of his daydreaming.
“Uh, no, just letting my thoughts wander is all.”
“As much wandering as your thoughts do, it’s a wonder you have any left inside that head of yours, my boy.” The old physician chuckled.
“I think they go off, get lost, find some more thoughts, and come back to multiply.”
“That would explain a lot,” He gave his ward a comforting pat on the shoulder. “So, do your wandering thoughts have any idea why Arthur would be summoning us to the small council at this late hour?”
Merlin shrugged, “No one had come to speak with him since Princess Mithian and her father left, so I can only assume it has to do with what happened on the mission. All I know is that he asked me to quietly gather the small council for an urgent matter.”
King Arthur, his queen, and the most loyal of knights were already gathered in the chamber when the elderly man and his ward arrived. They were all seated around the small table waiting. Typically covered in maps and battle plans, this night the wood grain lay exposed. Gaius took his seat after offering a slight bow to his lord while Merlin took up his position as manservant, standing quietly behind Arthur.
“Thank you all for meeting me at such a late hour.” The king looked around those gathered, his eyes coming to rest on each of the ones seated. “I’m sorry to have summoned you all; however I have realized there is a matter we need to discuss.
“I’ve noticed for quite some time that we have been rather lucky in, well, a lot of things, but in the tomb when Percival and I were facing Morgana and King Odin we appeared to be more than just lucky. Having the earth shake at the very moment Odin was about to exact his revenge seemed to be an act of the Gods. I have spoken with each of you and it appears that the quake was only inside the cavern.” The king once again looked to each of the men gathered. He allowed them time to digest the information.
Gwen sat forward, she had known from his mood, that some sort of internal struggle had been taking place for her husband since their return, he had yet to divulge any of his thoughts to her. “Are you suggesting someone caused it, purposefully?”
“I am,” Arthur stated somberly. “And I realized that wasn’t the first time. Reflecting back over the years many occurrences come to mind. I think that if you all take a moment, you’ll realize what I mean.”
Sir Leon narrowed his eyes; he grew up in Camelot under the laws of Uther, “Are you suggesting magic, Sire?” The thought that someone would use magic around the King of Camelot in a good light was a very foreign concept to the eldest of the Knights gathered and it didn’t sit well with him. “Perhaps if a person was using magic it would explain all the trouble we’ve had. Who’s to say all this would have even happened if they weren’t around casting spells to begin with?”
“Let ‘em use magic, I say,” Gwaine leaned back in his chair, “I have no personal issues with it and if it’s been keeping me alive to drink another day, all the better.” He ended with a trademark roguish grin as he flicked the hair out of his face.
“Magic is outlawed for a reason, Gwaine. Look at all Morgana has done with her spells? The number of times she has nearly killed each one of us,” Leon glared at the scoundrel.
“Our father died because he was trying to make a living and happened to pick the wrong person to work with. Hell, my sister has even been sentenced to death, TWICE, simply because she was suspected of it,” Elyan gestured towards the queen then brought his fist down on the table with a thump.
“That was different; the queen never actually did anything!”
Arthur held up his hand for silence, weighing the words of each of them carefully, “Percival?” he asked quietly.
“I’ve seen what Morgana has done, but I also know the druids have magic and are overall very peaceful. After my father was killed, my mother took me away from towns and villages. We rarely saw anyone, but I know she traded with the druids and they never brought any harm to us.”{1}
The others looked at the largest of the knights, realizing how little they actually knew of the quiet giant. The king breathed a silent sigh of relief, “Gaius,” he addressed the court physician, “you have been around since before the time of the Great Purge, what do you have to say about all this?”
The old man took a deep breath, folding his hands in his lap being careful not to look at Merlin. Choosing his words carefully he spoke, “There was a time, Sire, when magic was welcomed in Camelot. Your father, rest his soul,” he pointedly stared at Arthur implying recent events that the gathered knights weren’t even aware of, “seemed to have a very biased point of view on the use of magic. I will admit, I, myself, have limited training in the actual use of magic. Because of this, I understand it is the wielder, not the magic that chooses its course. IF there is someone with power, as you are implying, then he, or she, has obviously been using it to aide you in bringing peace to Camelot. However, the laws in place have kept this person hidden for fear of execution.”
Arthur nodded, digesting the words and understanding what the physician was inferring when it came to the recent haunting. “Guinevere, what do you think of all of this?”
The queen pursed her lips, raising her chin slightly, “I really don’t know, Arthur. You all have seen more of this than I, yet from my personal experience the laws of your father were rather... one-sided when it came to this subject. I have experienced times I thought were hopeless, only to have another one of these miracles assist me. It was Merlin who tried to keep me from the pyre the first time.” She looked lovingly on her husband, “and another time, there was the weird old man who saved me, saved us both really. Although, if it hadn’t been for magic I may not have been there in the first place.”
Only due to his years of training as a knight, did Leon keep his seat, “And that old man helped to kill King Uther, and stole a horse, knocking all of us senseless, among other things.”
“That ‘old man’ probably could have killed you, instead of just leaving you dazed!” Gaius put in, showing his true point of view for the situation. “He tried to heal Uther, but due to Morgana’s magic and Aggravaine’s betrayal, was unable to do so!”
The gathering erupted into a shouting match, no one but the dark- haired manservant standing in the shadows behind his king noticed when Arthur stopped paying attention to the tensions at the table. Merlin felt torn listening to his friends yelling at each other about magic. He cried out silently for the acceptance he craved, but the fear kept him silently in the background. It was when Arthur slowly turned in his seat to face him that the warlock knew his gig was up. He gulped audibly, or what would have been, had the others not been arguing so loud. He felt his heart racing, crystal blue eyes wide, wondering if this night might be his last.
“You, who ALWAYS has something to say, have been a little too quiet during this discussion,” Arthur’s voice broke through the shouting, and they all turned to gaze upon the, for once, quiet servant standing in the shadows.
Merlin did his best not to fidget under their scrutiny, “I’m just a servant, Sire, from a small village. I really don’t want to get involved in this matter.”
“Bollocks!” Arthur erupted, causing his chair to fall back with a crash, his arms moving around frantically. “It was you who convinced me magic was evil when Morgause summoned my mother’s form.”
Merlin’s eyes widened and he felt his temper spike, his nostrils flaring slightly, his nervousness forgotten. “If I hadn’t you would have killed your own father. My own beliefs be damned, I refused to let you do that, Arthur Pendragon.”
The king pounded his fist on the table, breath heavy and uneven. “How long?” Arthur bit out through gritted teeth.
“How long what, Sire?” Merlin responded sharply, his own body quivering with adrenaline. Years of anticipation for this moment barely keeping him rooted to the floor. If Arthur truly, finally, wised up to the situation, Merlin wanted to be absolutely certain.
“God, quit playing the fool, Merlin! I want to know, how long have you been doing magic? It’s the only thing that makes sense! The ground shakes, and you are just around the corner. Branches fall on ruffians, and you are hiding around the tree. Not even in the city for two months and your only friend’s father is magically healed when you burst into my father’s council chamber and proclaim it was you who healed him. When the Knights of Medir were attacking, who was it in the chamber when they fell with Morgause and Morgana? My quest to the Perilous lands, who followed me? You, Merlin! You are the constant in all of this!”
The tension between the two men burned through the room. Glaring at each other, saphire blue eyes locked with hazel blue, the power in each other’s stances matching, pressing against invisible walls like a spring wound to tight waiting for the pressure to relieve or all hell to break loose. The gathered council didn’t dare even take a breath, not only fearing the wrath of their king, but now of his manservant as well.
Moments passed when Merlin finally allowed his eyes to close. He yielded to the man his destiny lay so heavily entwined with. Lifting his hand he ran his fingers through his dark hair and steadied his breathing before allowing his arms to drop to his sides, relaxed and submissive. “I have always had it. I was born with it, and I don’t want to die,” his eyes raised to meet Arthur’s, glistening, pleading, “simply because of it.”
Arthur clenched his jaw, the veins pulsing his neck “Leave us. All of you.”
The king refilled his cup with wine, not bothering to look towards Merlin. He took a long drink as the others quietly made haste out of the room.
As Gwen softly closed the door behind them, she met each of their eyes, “What was said in there is to be kept in the utmost confidence until Arthur says otherwise.” Waiting for a nod from each of them, especially Sir Leon, who seemed to be having the hardest time processing all that transpired. Finally satisfied she dismissed them, “Gaius, please accompany me, if you would.”
“Of course, My Lady,” The old man gave a slight bow, ready to follow her and hopefully answer the many questions he could feel coming. The two wandered off down the shadowy halls.
The four knights glanced at each other, Gwaine reached out to place a brotherly hand on Leon’s shoulder, “I think we could all use a drink after that. Who’s buying?”
“You, obviously,” the elder knight narrowed his eyes at the rogue.
“Gods, they were like two sides of a coin or something in there, did you see that?” Elyan questioned his companions as he stood looking towards the door, his jaw slack and dark eyes wide still from the display.
“Hmph,” the noise came from Percival. The others looked at him skeptically. The large man smirked, obviously knowing something the rest did not. “There was a legend among the druids about two men of power. ‘Two sides of the same coin’ is actually how they are referred to. One is said to be the most powerful of any magic user ever born, and the other is destined to be the greatest king to ever live.”
“Well, then,” Gwaine spoke up cheerily, “I guess I am buying the drinks, I want to hear this story!”
(*~*~*~*~)
Back in the council chamber Arthur finally turned to look at his manservant. He took a measure of the man quietly leaning against the side wall, all the tension released. He’d grown even taller and finally began filling in around the shoulders and face, not looking quite as gaunt as he did upon arriving in Camelot. Hair and clothing still kept the in the same fashion. Although younger than Arthur by nearly two years, in the shadowed room lit with candles, Merlin appeared older than he should, a weight of destiny carried heavily on his shoulders. The king ran through quips and insults in his mind, yet in the end finally decided the time for joking needed to be set aside, “You are my closest friend. I trust your advice Merlin, always have.”
“Well then maybe you should listen to it more often and quit acting like a prat so much of the time?” Merlin grinned, anticipating a flying goblet aimed for his head. He could see Arthur’s fist clenching the stem in preparation. The blow did not come, and for the first time in many years Merlin allowed himself to feel hopeful that despite his deception, their friendship might remain intact. Arthur sat the goblet on the table and held up his hands in an offering of peace.
“I happen to agree with what Gaius said about the wielder, especially considering recent events, which we will never speak of. I just wonder how I have been so blind not to see it before.” Arthur looked down at his chair; he could see a fresh crack in the wood from the fall. Carelessly he pushed it aside and instead took a seat in the one his wife had occupied. A heavy sigh and he motioned for Merlin to join him at the table. “You won’t die, hell I won’t even banish you for this. I might be first in line at the stocks tomorrow with a few rotten eggs, but you won’t die.” He looked his companion directly in the eyes to assure the younger man of his promise. “We have a lot of things to discuss, I imagine.”
Merlin poured a cup of wine for himself and sat down, for the first time feeling truly as an equal to his friend. “Yes we do. Where would you like me to start?”
{1}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percival